A middle-aged woman sat on the couch, her gaze fixed on her daughter. Despite being in her forties, she was still beautiful—graceful, with tired eyes that held the weight of years gone wrong.
She looks at her daughter with worried expression and says in a persuasive tone. "Haya, don't be stubborn... You have to get married....."
Haya turns sharply.
" I said I don't want to get married! Why don't you understand? I'm happy with my life...!" She says in a frustrated tone. She was a young girl, and she carried the kind of beauty that turned heads without an effort. Her eyes held a weight far beyond her years.... They had seen too much for just a nineteen years old girl, and they didn't flinch anymore.
"Haya...why don't you understand? A woman is incomplete without a man..." Her mom tries to convince her.
She turns to her grandma. " Granny, tell your daughter to leave me alone! She's already played enough with my life!" She says harshly without looking at her mom and walks into her room and slams the door behind.
Her grandma puts her hand on Asma's shoulder and a tear escapes Asma's eyes. "Don't worry... I'll talk to her...." Grandma says gently trying to hold her tears back.
Asma hugs her. "Mom, I ruined my daughter's life....I ..I..made her feel the same pain I felt....she hates me...." Tears escape her eyes.
Grandma pulls away and cups her face. "She can't hate you.... she's just upset. And my dear, it's the matter of fate ...you never wanted anything bad for her..." She tries to comfort her. "And you're my daughter..you have to be brave.. understood?" She adds.
...HAYA'S ROOM....
Tears stream down her face. "Why..? Why!?" She asks herself. "What did I do this deserve it!? No one cares about me! No one!" She almost screams. She sits on the floor and rest her back on the bed.
Her phone rings. She wipes her tears and takes out the phone from her purse. It was an unknown number, but Haya recognized it. The phone kept ringing in her hand.
She stared at the screen.
Her heart dropped.
Why was he calling?
Her thumb hovered over the answer button, her breath caught in her throat. She hated him...no, she loved him...but she didn't know how to feel anymore.
She answered.
"Hello...?"
A long pause.
Then his voice—calm, distant, painfully cold.
"Haya. I heard about the marriage proposal. You should say yes."
Her throat tightened. She sat upright, her fingers gripping the phone. "What...?"
"You heard me," he said. "He's a good man. Better than I could ever be."
"Why are you doing this?" she says, trying to hold back her tears.
Another pause.
"I'm not who you think I am. I never was. Just move on, Haya. It's time."
The line went dead. She wanted to ask him hundreds of questions, she wanted to ask why he did this? Why is he doing this? But she couldn't say a single word.
She stared at the screen, her hands shaking. He was lying. She could feel it. His words were sharp, but his silence had screamed something else—pain.
She threw the phone across the room and broke into a sob. "Liar! You're a liar! Coward!" Her scream was muffled by the pillow as she buried her face into it.
Downstairs...
Grandma paused as she heard the muffled cries through the wall.
Asma's face crumpled again. "She's still in pain... and I can't take it away."
Grandma sighed. "Let her go through it once, let her cry and take it out. Only then she'll be able to move on."
"But , mom...." Asma was trying not to cry again. She was looking at her mom with hope, guilt, and sadness.
"Fine, I'll talk to her... But why do you want to marry her? She's just 19..and she..just got divorced." Granny asked, trying to reason with her. But deep down she knew Haya and asma both were right in there own place.
Before Asma could say anything her phone rang. She picked up the call and walked out of the room.
Naila, Haya's grandma was still sitting there trying to figure out what to do next, she was stuck between her daughter and granddaughter. She loved both of them, she raised both of them. She couldn't decide who to chose.