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1 year later
"Yeah, but bhabhi. I'm just twenty one. This is no time to get married. Also, when I do get married I want dozens of kids which means a lot of diapers. I'm not ready to get myself involved right now so maybe later? Huh? Please agree, my cute little milky bar?" Laila nagged me by shaking my arm that she held as we strolled down the corridor and headed towards my office.
"Laila, your studies are over, sweetheart. Would you rather do a job?' I softly questioned her and she bit her lips in contemplation. She was actually alluringly beautiful.
"Only if I get to work with you." She beamed with a bright smile and I had to toll my eyes at her childish behavior.
I sat on the revolving chair behind my desk and she stood leaning against the counter.
"He dropped a parcel of chocolates at my doorstep again yesterday." She melancholically mumbled hanging her head down. My jaw grit at the mention of his and I halted my supersonic typing. Laila preferred living in the place where they had facilities for visually-impaired people and rejected my appeal of her staying with me. "Raihaan tries to make it up to me someway or the other, bhabhi. I know I shouldn't side with him but I can't live without him either."
"Them accept him." I firmly spoke, clenching my jaw sending the mail in unaccounted anger. She sighed and waved her hand in the air to find and press my palm.
"How long will this continue, bhabhi? Hasn't he sent the divorce papers yet? I feel guilty on his behalf for keeping you chained to his name this way." She warmly empathized, squeezing my hand with her remarkably soft ones. He doesn't let go of me, he doesn't come in front of me. Why does he frustrate me like that? One whole year passed by and I still can't help the way my heart burns at his name.
Ya Rabb, help me out of this.
"Ms. Abbasi. Mr. Raihaan Qureshi is here to see you. Apparently, it's urgent and he wants to meet you right now." Margaret, my secretary popped her head from behind the door and informed me in her American accent. I had to suck in oxgen when she told me it's Mr. Raihaan. My heart doesn't seem to learn the difference, does it?
After I replied in affirmative to her, Laila chuckled, covering her mouth with her palm. "What a coincidence!" She exclaimed with a rolling smile and I slid off my chair, smacking the back of her head slightly. She rubbed it with a pout and I chuckled this time.
"Someone hasn't tied their lace. That sound says so." She thoughtfully spoke, straining her ears and I frowned. How would she know that? I peeked out of my door and found a young guy, chewing gaudily on a chewing gum drag his feet. He had dishelved brown hair falling over his face with mammoth headphones sitting around his neck. He watched here and there with curious eyes and narrowed them when he spotted me.
