I never had it easy.
From watching my parents succumb to the horrors of a car accident to craving the healing presence of the man I love-my entire life-I had navigated through this messy maze I call my life with a shard of hope in my heart.
Every da...
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Chapter 11 | Don't Let Me Go
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"Honey?"
"Hmm?"
"Can you go get the door please?" Vajeeha questioned, holding up her hands. "My hands are caked in mud."
"Who even knows where this sudden love for pottery sprang up from, " Wahdan muttered as he abandoned his cold, delicious glass of lemonade and the lawn chair he was sitting on, trudging to the gate begrudgingly.
I don't understand why girls think guys have it easy just because we don't have to cook and clean. NO. Milkman at the door? Wahdan, go see him! Electricity bill in the mail? Wahdan, go pay it off! Tired of your existence? Wahdan, go jump off a cliff. Or wait. Don't. That's a bad idea.
Wahdan neared the large 8-foot bronze gate, slipping his sunglasses over his eyes before he got his eyes permanently pinched close from all the squinting he'd been doing. The back of his shirt was practically plastered with sweat, and had it not been for Vajeeha grabbing his hand and hoisting him out of his dark and gloomy study for she had developed a sudden interest in pottery, he would've died a million times before ever coming out into the backyard.
He unlatched the gate to reveal a short girl, around Maha's age, holding up a plate in her hands. Wahdan snorted. She was even shorter than Saboor and just barely made it past his elbow.
Realizing it may have come off as offensive, he smiled apologetically. "Sorry, just remembered a joke."
The girl blinked. "What perfect timing you have."
"Um, I haven't seen you around here."
"Yes," the girl nodded, glancing down at her plate. "We just moved into the bangla next to yours. It has been under renovation for quite some time now."
"Oh, right. Yeah I remember being woken up in the middle of the night thinking someone had blasted my ears."
"Sorry."
"Would you like to come in?" Wahdan asked, stepping aside and holding the door open wider.
"No thank you. We have a lot of settling and cleaning to do. I just came by to give you this." The girl held out the plate hidden under another upside-down plate, and Wahdan lifted the top plate up to reveal three kachoris, the delicious scent wafting into his nostrils.
The foodie that was dormant in him awakened, and he took a gracious bite out of one of the kachoris, closing his eyes and humming in satisfaction.
"This is so good," he spoke through a mouthful. "Whoever made this is brilliant."
