Meet-Cute

07. khayr

k h a y r
AHAMMED

chapter seven — ❛ I don't play around like that ❜
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KHAYR WAS ACUTELY AWARE of the penetrating gaze of four pairs of eyes fixed upon him. Despite the tension in the air, he was determined to remain composed, having been in similar situations in the past. In his youth, he had stealthily slipped out of his family's residence in Lahore, but the consequences of that transgression had never been openly discussed. Presently, he found himself in a comparable predicament, flanked by his two gracious sisters and feeling scrutinised to no end.

"I can't believe you hid this from us!"

"How long has this been going on?"

"How did she even agree to go out with you?"

Khayr let out another sigh, rolling his eyes. "If you two would let me speak, then maybe you'd get your answers?"

He heard his mother sneer, "Don't give me that attitude. As your mother, I am deeply hurt by this."

This won't go as smoothly as he had planned. Head heavy and mind blank, he prayed for time to quicken its pace. "I'm sorry, okay? It. . . all happened really fast. I never found the right moment to tell you about it."

Faiza scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah, right. You just wanted to keep it a secret."

Kahyr's patience was running out; this amount of talking was already tiring him out. "Shut up, just because you hid your boyfriend doesn't mean—"

"Does her father know?"

Those were his father's first words. Throughout the day, he remained silent—nothing new from him. "Dad, why else would I be sitting here?" He caught Sumayyah narrowing her eyes at his passive tone. "No, he doesn't; that's why I need your help."

"You sound serious about her." He conveys.

Khayr almost felt as though he was.

"Of course. I don't play around like that." He lied straight through his teeth. By now, his jaw was numb from all the clenching. Khayr was a man of his word. Honesty and truth were principles his parents integrated into his upbringing; therefore, deceiving them like this tugged on his heartstrings.

"And you like her?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Really like her?" He pries further.

"Yes."

Khayr could only grit his teeth tighter. The atmosphere was too unpleasant to handle. For his own selfish reasons, he was jeopardising a woman's life. Not any woman, his father's best friend—his business partner, his chosen brother—daughter.

"I have spoken to her mother." She pauses, staring right at him with a graceful smile—the same one that made his father fall head over heels for her. "She sounded very happy about it. I'm sure her father won't withstand that."

"I will speak to Hafiz myself." Khayr holds their eye contact, hoping they wouldn't see right through him. "If you're hundred percent sure about this, then we need to make this right."

"Might as well get married too." Faiza chimes in; mischief is written all over her.

"She's right. I haven't attended a wedding in years." Sumayyah follows up with.