Scene 1: A Quiet Routine
The days rolled by like pages turning gently in the wind. Maryam's life found its rhythm again — mornings wrapped in lesson plans and school bells, evenings spent helping the children with homework, and weekends reserved for family. She was flourishing in her teaching role, her presence beloved by students and fellow teachers alike.
Irfan, on the other hand, was slowly adapting to his new role at Microsoft. The office kept him busy with meetings, deadlines, and coding marathons. But despite their hectic routines, there were still slivers of time that Maryam and Irfan found — small, golden moments that brought them together.
Sometimes it was a shared tea in the kitchen when no one else was around, or a walk in the garden under the fading light of the evening sun. These moments, however short, felt special — filled with unspoken thoughts, shy glances, and tentative smiles.
Scene 2: Sunday Evening in the Garden
It was a quiet Sunday evening. The scent of blooming roses drifted through the garden as Maryam sat on the bench, grading papers. Irfan joined her, holding two cups of tea.
"I thought you might need this," he said, handing her a cup.
"Thank you," she replied, her fingers brushing his as she took the cup. The touch sent a ripple through her, soft and unexpected.
They sat in silence for a moment.
"You're working even on Sunday?" Irfan asked, sipping his tea.
"I'm used to it," Maryam smiled. "But it doesn't feel like work when you love what you do."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad you found your peace here."
She glanced at him and smiled faintly. "And you? How's the office?"
"Busy. Challenging. But… fulfilling," he replied. "Though sometimes, I find myself looking forward to evenings like this."
Maryam looked down at her cup, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Scene 3: A Late-Night Conversation
That night, after dinner, the house fell quiet. Children were asleep. Imran was busy reading a book in the living room. Ayesha, sensing an opportunity, stepped out to find Irfan in the kitchen.
"Bhabhi, you need something?" he asked, noticing her presence.
"No," she said gently. "I just wanted to talk."
He nodded, putting away a cup and turning to face her.
They sat at the dining table, the kitchen light soft above them.
"Irfan," Ayesha began, her voice calm but serious. "I want to ask you something… and I want an honest answer."
He nodded, though a flicker of nervousness appeared on his face.
"What do you feel about Maryam?"
Irfan's eyes widened slightly. "I… I don't know, Bhabhi. I mean, I feel something — strong, real — but every time I try to say it, I freeze. I can't explain it."
Ayesha leaned forward. "You've been spending time with her, sitting together, talking, walking… She's not just a friend anymore, is she?"
He lowered his gaze. "No… she's not. I think I love her. But I'm afraid. What if she doesn't feel the same? What if I ruin everything?"
Ayesha sighed, placing a hand gently over his.
"Irfan, listen to me. Maryam has gone through a lot in life. She has finally begun to heal. And I've seen how she looks at you — there's something in her eyes, a quiet hope. She might be waiting for you to take the first step."
"I don't want to hurt her," he said softly. "What if this is just a phase?"
Ayesha shook her head. "Then you owe it to her to be clear. Don't let this turn into false hope. And if you do love her — if your heart races in her presence, if the day feels incomplete without hearing her voice — then speak, Irfan. Let her know."
He looked at her, struggling to find the words. "Why… why does time fly when I'm with her? Why does everything feel lighter, warmer?"
Ayesha smiled gently.
"Because that's what love does, Irfan. It doesn't come with grand declarations or certainty. It arrives quietly, like the call of the Fajr azaan in the early morning — soft, subtle, but it awakens something deep within. Allah places love in hearts not just for companionship, but as a mercy. If He has written her for you, no fear, no hesitation can stand in the way. But you must take that first step."
He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing her words. "Give me a little more time, Bhabhi. I just need to be sure… of myself."
Ayesha nodded. "You have that time. But don't wait so long that the moment passes you by."
Scene 4: Midnight Reflections
Later that night, Irfan stood at his window, staring at the moon. The world outside was silent. Inside him, emotions stirred like waves against the shore.
He thought of Maryam's smile, her soft voice, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her students or recited an ayah from the Qur'an. He remembered the moment she had wiped dust from his sleeve one afternoon in the kitchen, and how his heart had skipped a beat.
Could this truly be love?
And if it was, what was he waiting for?
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