*Religious elements in this chapter*

We were driving halfway towards my flat when the gory images of dead John Doe that I saw the other evening flashed in my memory once again. It struck me with sudden shortness of breath, mild headache that I was beginning to see stars in my vision. I fought back, inhale deeply to calm myself.

"You alright?" Nick noticed my heavy breathing.

"I need some air," I panted. "Can you drop me here? I'll walk my way home."

He parked his X351 by a pavement next to the corner of Bronte Street. He suggested on walking me home, which I accepted as I was too tired to argue and felt safer when he was around.

We approached McDougall's Prayer Hall when we heard the adhan (call of prayer) of Zuhr resonate from its speakers. Nick suggested that I do my prayers here before reaching my flat.

"I can do it later when I reach home," I answered quietly.

"It's gonna be another 20 minutes' walk to your flat. Why wait when you can do it now? You need your God's redemption, aint' it?" he pointed out. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

"I didn't bring my prayer garments," I excused.

He rolled his eyes, pulled out his long and wide tartan neck scarf to cover my head. The scent of Tom Ford Oud Wood on his scarf rubbed on my nose as he tried to wrap it around my head like a hijab, securing it with a safety pin that was attached to it.

"Aren't you a divine specimen?" he took a step back, admiring his artwork. "Now, run along."

         ✨⭐🍀✨⭐🍀✨⭐🍀✨⭐🍀

After I'm done with my prayer, we resume our walk back to my flat where I initiated small talks with him to ease the queasiness away.

"You really don't believe in Allah or any other gods, Nick?" I asked boldly.

"Nope," he answered firmly. "I accepted the theory but not the existence."

"Why?"

"Because they didn't come to my prayers," he shrugged. "I once prayed endlessly for my mother's health and safety. In fact, I prayed for many reasons but none of them were answered. So, I stopped believing in them."

"Does it occur to you that the reason why we pray is not for the purpose of solely seeking something from God, but to also offer our devotion to the Almighty?" I questioned.

"I'm not sure I agree with you on that," Nick debated. "My devotion is to myself because when I'm at loss, God didn't help me. And what I did to achieve where I am today was solely based on my own set of skills, logic and strategies and perfect timing. Not by some sort of miracles descended from God."

"But these logics, your intelligence and perfect timing exist with God's permission," I countered. "I don't want to argue too much about God in detail because I'm not that pious either. But when you perform your prayers, you're getting an opportunity to speak to the Almighty who created everything in this universe. Not only that, it will bring a lasting effect of purity in your heart when done properly.

"Nick, I sympathised with what you've gone through. Seriously, I do. You lost your mom, you lost hope, you were angry. Hey, I lost my mom too. Even worse, I also lost my dad and my brother. All of us are going through pain and suffering, some are even more excruciating than others. But God doesn't burden a soul beyond that it can bear. You need to understand that every hardship that we faced in life is a test of patience, devotion and trust in God. If something was taken from us, it means we're strong enough to handle it. And God already promised us for a better future, a better life in return. So, when you're up on your own, it was God's doing. God doesn't tell you that, of course. You'll be freaking out if this happens."

I stopped talking, feeling breathless. I expected for his counterargument, but he didn't respond except to beam at me with his genuine smile.

"Any more rebuttals?" I enquired.

He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets as we walked side by side. "I think the real Zahida Jafri I know is back."

His response made me feel blissful, it was something that I yearned but couldn't feel before. All these while I thought Nick was being nice to me as an act of chivalry, something he was drafted with growing up. When Hussaini told me that Nick had a soft spot on me, I guess Milla could be right.

I was literally shaking with joy thinking about this. Unlike Abs or any other guys that turned me down, Nick is special. He really cares about me. And I think I'm in love with him.

"So, does that mean I can be your best friend?" I asked enthusiastically.

Nick chuckled, "I thought I already am."

I squealed in excitement, as though I just asked him to be my boyfriend. My elation escalated that I didn't realise I was tugging his arm tightly in between my breasts. He didn't budge but I sensed awkwardness between us, so I let go off his arm and continued walking.