In the bustling city of Abu Dhabi, the warm rays of the sun shone down on the vibrant streets, illuminating the rich culture and diversity of the United Arab Emirates. Zahra walked through the familiar streets, her bouncy brown curls tied up in a high ponytail, her bright brown eyes sparkling with excitement as she made her way to her mother's bakery shop.
As she entered the shop, she greeted the staff, a group of warm and welcoming women in their middle ages, who replied with friendly smiles. Zahra tied an apron around her waist and joined her mother in the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air.
"Good morning, Ummi," Zahra said, her voice warm and affectionate.
Her mother turned, a smile on her face. "Zahra, how was your rest?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with concern.
"It was nice, Mom," Zahra replied, feeling grateful that her mother had let her tardiness slide today.
"You know why I'm being lenient, don't you?" her mother asked, her voice playful. "You've been working so hard on your studies, and I'm proud of you for securing your admission to college."
Zahra, at nineteen, was the third child in her family. Her older siblings were already married. Her sister, Aliyah, at twenty-five, was married to the son of the affluent and esteemed Al Rashid family, known throughout the UAE, yet they preferred to maintain a low profile. This alliance was considered a blessing, and her father, who worked as a gardener for the Al Rashids, was promoted to butler.
Though grateful for her life, Zahra harbored deep sadness. It was her fourth attempt to meet the university admission score required to pursue her studies. Her father often attributed her struggles to a lack of focus, expressing his frustration with harsh words. "Don't bring shame upon our family name. Look at your sister, a blessing to our lives, while you are nearly a liability," he would say. Over time, Zahra grew accustomed to this criticism, as her mother echoed similar sentiments, considering it part of family discipline.
"Zahra, you mustn't fail this time. We always wanted a surgeon in the family, so don't mess this up. I know you're trying, but try harder," her mother insisted, speaking firmly while rolling dough. Zahra accepted their expectations in silence, knowing they were all her family expected of her. Despite a streak of stubbornness, she obeyed their wishes as they were the guiding force in her life.
While preparing cookies, a staff member interrupted her. "Zahra, you have a guest," the staffer said. With her mother's nod of approval, Zahra left for the main hall, where dishes were being served to customers. As she passed the counter, she noticed a boy sitting in the customer area. His solemn expression, unlike his usual cheerful demeanor with a lollipop in his mouth, suggested something serious had happened. This change went unnoticed by the customers, but the staff, who admired his cuteness and beauty, did note something amiss. Unbeknownst to them, he was Nahyan Al Rashid, the second youngest child of the Al Rashid family.
Nahyan was fond of Zahra, finding her as his favorite person, followed closely by his sister Mahya, who was around Zahra's age. They were considered the most vibrant and easygoing members of their family. Zahra quietly sat in front of Nahyan, who hadn't yet noticed her presence, heightening her concern.
"Nahyan? Are you okay?" she asked, gently tapping the table to draw him out of his thoughts. He turned to her with a sad smile.
"Hello, big pretty sis," he greeted, but his smile quickly faded.
"What's wrong? Please, talk to me," Zahra urged she saw the deep sadness in his eyes.
"It's Malik, Zee. He's... dying," Nahyan croaked, tears welling up as he struggled to keep them from spilling publicly. Zahra was taken aback. Malik was dying? She wasn't particularly familiar with him and realized she didn't know much about him.
She didn't really know Malik well. What she did know was that he was a rare sort hardly seen anywhere. He was someone who didn't care much for others or form attachments. Rumors described him as dangerous and quite rebellious. At seventeen, his reputation preceded him, but Nahyan's next words took her by surprise.
"He wishes to see you, Zahra. I don't know why, but he seemed restless," stated Nayan.
"But why? I don't even know him that well," Zahra said, baffled.
"Please, Zahra, just follow me. I promise it won't take long," he pleaded.
"You don't have to plead. I'll go. Remember, we're friends," she agreed.
Zahra informed a staff member to cover for her at the bakery and left with Nayan. She was driven by Nayan's personal assistant to the private hospital of the Al Rashids. Upon arrival, Zahra followed Nayan to the patient's room, where the PA stayed outside. Inside, she saw a figure on the hospital bed, connected to IV tubes, with a monitor beeping steadily. Despite his condition, he was exceptionally handsome.
The sight pained Zahra. "He's been seen by the doctor. This is his last moment. It's a rare, almost incurable disease. He ignored all warnings and skipped medications; now look at him," Nayan explained sadly.
Zahra watched as Malik weakly opened his eyes and turned to Nayan. "Here she is, brother," Nayan introduced.
Malik's eyes, though piercing, softened as he looked at Zahra with a small smile. "You came," he said in a smooth, attractive voice. His expression was like that of a child whose wish had come true.
"You called for me?" she asked, feeling a bit apprehensive despite his weakened state. He nodded, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"You might be curious. I don't have much time," he spoke weakly.
"You have all the time in the world, Malik. Please, don't give up," she reassured him. Her gentle words made him chuckle softly. He slowly reached for her hand, and as she started to pull away, he gently squeezed it.
"Please, don't," he said while Nayan watched them with surprise and sadness.
"I've always admired you, Zahra. Since my teenage years, your beautiful smile captivated me," Malik confessed, surprising Zahra. She had never realized the depth of his feelings.
"It was love at first sight," he added, disrupting her thoughts. His eyes held sincerity and certainty.
"What?" Zahra reacted in disbelief.
"Age doesn't matter to me," he said with a weak, sad smile. "Could you please come closer?" he asked, his eyes becoming teary.
Zahra leaned towards him. "Closer," he whispered, and she obliged. He finally said, "I love you," and softly pecked her cheek.
Zahra's eyes widened, and she quickly pulled away, noticing a tear slide from his closed eye.
'If we meet again, I will never let go, Zahra Al Mohammed,' he thought before releasing his final breath. The monitor turned to a flat line, causing panic. As Nayan moved to call the doctor, they entered already, with his mother, Maya, and his siblings.
"Doctor, will my son be okay?" his mother asked anxiously.
The doctor sighed, "I'm sorry. We did all we could. Malik's heart gave out due to his weak lungs. We've lost him," he said, leaving the family to mourn.
Nayan hugged Zahra in tears. "I can't believe he's gone," he said while sobbing.
Zahra, equally distraught, replied, "He said, 'I love you.'"
Nayan was emotionally overwhelmed, saddened by Malik's carelessness. After consoling Maya, Zahra left the room, finding herself in a large field within the hospital compound. She sat on a bench under a beautiful tree, reflecting on life's fragility and Malik's unexpected confession. As she thought about how she'd share the story with her mother, the gentle breeze and singing birds lulled her into sleep.