Mending Broken Hearts

9. Hard Truths

"Your shift is over Madi, you should go home now", he told me when I came back into Noor's room after signing out my patients to the evening team. 

"I don't mind staying, Salman. You shouldn't be on your own at this time"

He and I weren't best of friends like his wife and I. And he sure had his quirks which raised my blood pressure sometimes, but I respected him to no end. If for no other reason, for the way he treated his wife; with so much tenderness and care that seeing them together made me believe in a forever kind of fairytale love. 

"Well, if you're going to stay I think I'll grab something to eat from the cafeteria. Can I get you something too?"

"Oh if you want food, say no more", I told him chuckling as I remembered the stash Omar had bought earlier. Enough to last me a whole week. 

Pulling it out of my oversized purse, I gave Salman the option of energy bars, sandwiches and even a salad. My own stomach reminded me of the day I had had so I picked out a snack for myself too. 

"Do you always carry half the cafeteria in your bag?", he asked. 

"No I just happen to have a very kind intern"

He raised a brow, "Omar?"

"Yes, sweet guy"

"Uh huh", he smirked. 

That smirk was why I sometimes wished Salman wouldn't open his mouth, and kept his opinions to himself. 

I pursed my lips, "Ok what is that smile supposed to mean" 

"Nothing, its just that judging from that Jawad character your bar for men is usually very low", he shrugged and casually bit into his sandwich as if he hadn't just insulted both me and my fiancé in one short sentence. Though the man's ability to utter the honest truth had to be lauded. 

I suppose, I should be grateful that he only briefly shared his opinions the one and only time Jawad and I went out to dinner with Salman and Noor. 

***Flashback***

"Thank you for doing this", I told Jawad who looked dashing in a black suit with a black shirt whose top buttons were undone giving just a peak of his broad chest. His clean shaved chiseled jaw, hair that was perfectly gelled back and lips that framed pearly whites made him look like a runway model. 

In front of him I looked like a dull ugly duckling. 

"Of course", he said looking at himself in his Corvette's rearview mirror just before we got out of the car parked in front of the restaurant where we were meeting Noor and Salman. 

"Do I look ok?", I asked, peaking at the mirror myself. 

He glanced at me and laughed, "You don't look like a disaster the way you usually do"

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This was the first time he had acknowledged the physical difference between us and despite the fact that I was always well aware of it, it hurt. 

"That wasn't very nice", I told him quietly. 

His hand brushed against mine, and when I met his gaze it didn't have the warmth in it that I would yearn for, but he smiled, "I was just joking. Darken your lipstick and you'll be fine"

Fine. Not beautiful, or gorgeous or, pretty. Just fine. 

I looked at myself in the car mirror and knew that he was just speaking the truth, even if it hurt. I took a deep breath, told myself that I shouldn't be weak and feel sad at every little thing. And then I got out of the car, put on my smile and followed by fiancé into the restaurant.