"A life of opulence is not always a life of happiness."

Happy reading....

Haider sat on a worn-out bench at the bus stop, the evening sun casting long shadows across the street. He watched the retreating figure of Safiya, who had just left after their usual banter.

His mind wandered back to the day's events, particularly to the internship that was set to begin next week. He had been fortunate enough to secure a spot at Azlan Shaik's prestigious company, a rare opportunity for students like him.

But as excitement bubbled in his chest, so did an undercurrent of anxiety.

Could he meet their expectations?

The thought of failing gnawed at the back of his mind. It was a big opportunity, but also a huge responsibility. He sighed, pulling out his phone to distract himself, scrolling through news and articles, trying to drown out his own thoughts.

Safiya, on the other hand, seemed to be on cloud nine ever since they found out they were interning together at Azlan's company.

Haider couldn't quite figure her out lately. She'd been acting so strange, almost dreamy, and her mood shifts were unpredictable.

He shook his head, smiling to himself. "That girl's been acting crazy recently," he muttered under his breath.

As he scrolled aimlessly through his phone, a loud sound snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw a sleek, expensive car pulled to the side of the road. The tire was flat, and the driver seemed to be stuck.

The car door opened, and a young woman stepped out, draped in a simple yet elegant white salwar, her head and shoulders covered with a soft golden shawl that shimmered under the fading sunlight.

She crouched down, inspecting the tire with a look of frustration, clearly not knowing what to do. Her hazel eyes scanned the road, searching for help, but the area around the bus stop was deserted.

There weren't any repair shops or mechanics nearby, and she looked increasingly anxious. She fumbled with her phone, likely calling for help, but her expression didn't suggest the person on the other end was of much assistance.

Haider watched the scene unfold from a distance. He knew he should mind his own business, but something about her situation tugged at him. He put his phone away and decided to step in.

He approached her quietly, trying not to startle her. "Assalamualaikum," he greeted politely.

The woman jumped slightly at the unexpected voice, turning around to face him.

She blinked, looking him over with a hint of confusion before she mumbled softly, "Walaikum assalam."

"I noticed you've got a flat tire," Haider said, glancing at the car. "If you have a spare, I can change it for you."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and then relief washed over her face. A smile broke through her tense expression.

"Ji, yes! I do. Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and disbelief.

Haider smiled back, nodding. "It's no problem."

Without wasting any more time, he walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. There, he found the spare tire and a toolbox.

He retrieved them and knelt on the dirty roadside without hesitation, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt. The dust clung to his knees and arms, but he didn't care.

The woman stood by, watching him work with growing admiration. He loosened the bolts with ease, his hands moving confidently as he swapped out the damaged tire for the spare. In the silence of the evening, the only sounds were the clinks of metal and the occasional distant hum of passing cars.

She bit her lip, feeling a little guilty for just standing there while he worked.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Haider chuckled, looking up briefly. "No need. I've got it."

Within minutes, the new tire was in place, and Haider stood up, wiping his hands on a rag from the toolbox. He dusted off his shirt, glancing at the car with a sense of accomplishment.

"All done," he said, smiling warmly.

The woman clapped her hands together in thanks, her eyes glowing with gratitude. "I can't thank you enough."

Haider shrugged modestly. "It's nothing, really. Just happy I could help." He turned to leave, offering a polite nod. "Allah Hafiz."

"Khuda Hafiz," she replied softly, watching him walk away. As he disappeared into the distance, she stood for a moment longer, reflecting on the kindness of a stranger.

As Haider made his way back to the bus stop, he felt a strange sense of fulfillment. Helping someone had lifted his mood, and for a brief moment, his worries about the internship faded into the background. He sat down at the bus stop once again, watching the sun dip lower on the horizon, the world moving on as if nothing extraordinary had just happened.

-----

Azlan sat in his spacious office, the light from the large windows casting a warm glow over the sleek, modern furniture. His brow was furrowed, his brown eyes narrowing as he meticulously went over the planning designs for their new restaurant building. His desk was cluttered with blueprints, sketches, and documents-each one scrutinized but none quite living up to his standards.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen thoughtfully against the desk. Something about the designs didn't sit right with him. They lacked the innovation and charm he envisioned for the new restaurant. With a heavy sigh, he pressed the intercom button on his desk.

"Ms.Sarah, can you come in for a moment?"

Within seconds, Sarah, his efficient assistant, stepped into the room. Her dark hair was neatly tied back, and her sharp, professional demeanor contrasted with the genuine concern in her eyes.

"Yes." she asked, standing at attention.

Azlan gestured toward the designs sprawled across the desk. "These won't work. I want you to compile a new list of top architects-ones who understand what we're trying to create here. This isn't just another building; it needs to reflect something extraordinary."

Sarah nodded, making a note on her tablet. "Understood. I'll get right on it."

As she turned to leave, Azlan stopped her. "Oh, and send me a strong coffee," he added, his voice carrying a weariness that didn't escape her notice.

Sarah hesitated, glancing at him with concern. "Azlan, are you okay? You look like you haven't slept at all."

Azlan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't. Same as usual. Couldn't sleep."

Worry flickered across Sarah's face. She adjusted her glasses and stepped closer to the desk. "This isn't good for your health. You've been pushing yourself too hard. The insomnia is getting worse, and all the coffee you drink isn't helping."

Azlan chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it. "I'll listen to you this time, don't worry."

Sarah wasn't satisfied with his dismissive answer. "I mean it, Azlan. I'll make an appointment with a doctor. You need to go this evening, no excuses. If you don't, I'll accompany you myself."

Azlan shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You and Haya always make it sound like I'm still a kid. For God's sake, Sarah, I'm 27."

Sarah pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose and smiled warmly. "Yet you're still careless about your health. Seriously, Azlan, you need a break. Go somewhere, take some time off. You've been shouldering so much responsibility, but you're not a robot. You're human, too."

Azlan's smile faded as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk, fingers laced together in thought. His expression grew serious, a shadow of worry crossing his face. "I can't," he said quietly. "I need to make sure Haya is happy. Zoya is still a baby. I can't possibly leave them on their own."

Sarah softened at his words, her heart aching for him. She knew the depth of his love and responsibility for his sister and niece. "Haya is doing fine, Azlan. She doesn't need a man to support her, other than you. She's managing wonderfully on her own."

Azlan shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "She's too young to give up on life. She acts like everything's okay, but I see the loneliness in her eyes. She's raising Zoya all alone, and it's not fair. She deserves more. She should move on... find happiness again."

His voice trailed off as he rubbed his temples, the stress of it all weighing heavily on him. A sharp headache shot through his skull, making him wince.

Seeing his discomfort, Sarah immediately rushed out of the room to fetch water and some medicine. Within moments, she returned, placing a glass of water and painkillers on his desk.

"Here, take this," she said gently, watching him with concern.

Azlan took the pills without protest, downing them with the water. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to push the headache away.

Sarah sat across from him, her eyes never leaving his face. "Azlan, you've done more than enough for Haya and Zoya. You've been their rock, but you're burning yourself out in the process. You need to take care of yourself, too."

Azlan opened his eyes, gazing out the window at the bustling city below. "I don't know how to do that anymore," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the room fell into silence, the weight of his responsibilities hanging heavy in the air. Sarah watched him closely, wishing there was something more she could do to ease the burden he carried.

"Just... promise me you'll go to that appointment today," she finally said. "If not for yourself, then for the people who care about you."

Azlan sighed, nodding slowly. "Alright. I'll go."

Sarah stood, giving him a small, encouraging smile. "Good. I'll remind you later."

As she left the office, Azlan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced, thinking about Haya, Zoya, the business, and everything in between. But no matter how much he tried to focus on solving his problems, there was always that gnawing feeling of exhaustion, both mental and physical, that he couldn't shake off.

The coffee arrived shortly after, but even that didn't offer much comfort. His life was a whirlwind of responsibilities, and it seemed there was no escape.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the noise of the world for just a moment longer.

-----

The afternoon sun bathed the streets in a warm, golden hue as Haya drove through the quiet neighborhoods, picking up Zoya from school. In the passenger seat, Zoya was in full storytelling mode, her small hands moving animatedly as she recounted her day. Haya listened with a fond smile, glancing at her daughter from time to time.

"Ammi Jaan, today Hamza didn't talk to me!" Zoya pouted, crossing her arms, her voice carrying the weight of her frustration.

Haya raised her brow and asked, "Why didn't he talk to you? What happened?"

Zoya huffed, her cheeks puffing out in indignation. "Because I told the truth!"

Haya chuckled. "And what truth was that?"

"I saw him giving his lunch to some other kids from another class," Zoya explained, her little face scrunched in annoyance. "I told him those kids aren't nice. I saw them taking other kids' lunches last week."

Haya smiled warmly, understanding where her daughter was coming from. "You did the right thing by warning him. But maybe he was upset because he didn't know how to respond. Don't worry, tomorrow I'll talk to your teacher about it, and she can help sort things out."

Zoya's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, Ammi Jaan!" she said sweetly, her earlier irritation forgotten as she beamed at her mother.

But then, as if remembering something important, Zoya shifted in her seat and spoke again. "Ammi, you know, Azlan mamu made a new friend! She's so pretty!"

Haya, who had been driving with a soft smile, raised her eyebrows in surprise at her daughter's words. "Really? Azlan has a new friend?" she asked, intrigued. Her brother wasn't exactly known for socializing, especially with people outside their family.

"Yes, Ammi! There's a grocery shop on our way home. She's there! She told me not to eat too many candies when I went to buy them this morning," Zoya explained, her excitement bubbling over.

Haya couldn't help but laugh. "That's surprising. I didn't know your mamu was making friends these days."

She found it hard to believe. Azlan was always so reserved, keeping to himself. He hardly ever interacted with women outside of their family, except for Fariya. It made her wonder who this mysterious new friend could be.

As they approached the small grocery shop that Zoya mentioned, her daughter suddenly pointed excitedly out the window. "Ammi, look! That's Shaziya didi's shop!"

Haya slowed the car down, glancing toward the shop. Just as Zoya had said, a young woman, wrapped in a modest scarf, was locking up the shop for the day. She had a calm, serene demeanor, her soft features illuminated by the fading light of the evening.

Zoya, unable to contain her excitement, rolled down the window and called out loudly, "Shaziya didi!"

Haya chuckled softly, placing a hand on Zoya's shoulder to calm her down.

"Zoya, calm down," she said, though she knew her daughter's enthusiasm was hard to contain.

Hearing her name, Shaziya turned around, a bit startled by the sound of the small voice calling out to her. Her eyes softened when she saw Zoya waving eagerly from the car. She smiled and waved back, her gaze then shifting to the woman sitting in the driver's seat. She immediately guessed that this must be Azlan's sister.

Haya parked the car and stepped out, her long, elegant dress swaying lightly with her movements. Shaziya suddenly felt nervous as Haya approached. Although she interacted with customers daily, something about meeting Azlan's sister left her feeling uncharacteristically flustered. It wasn't every day that someone like Haya-who was strikingly beautiful, with a graceful presence-stood in front of her.

"Assalamu alaikum," Haya greeted with a warm smile, her voice soft and welcoming. "I'm Haya, Zoya's mother."

Shaziya blinked, gathering herself as she greeted back. "Wa alaikum assalam. It's nice to meet you."

Haya glanced at her daughter, who was still beaming from the back seat, then smiled at Shaziya. "Zoya has been talking about you non-stop. She keeps saying how pretty you are." She added, with a playful look at her daughter, "And Mashallah, she's right."

Shaziya's cheeks flushed with warmth at the unexpected compliment. "Th-thank you," she stammered slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the kind words.

Zoya, who was eagerly watching their conversation, suddenly piped up, "Shaziya didi, will you come to my house?"

Shaziya's eyes widened slightly as she looked at Haya, unsure of how to respond. She wasn't used to receiving invitations from people she barely knew.

Haya gave her a reassuring smile, sensing her hesitation. "She's like this," Haya said with a light laugh. "She gets attached easily. Don't mind her. You looked like you were in a bit of a hurry just now."

Shaziya smiled, nodding. "Yes, I need to catch a taxi before it gets too dark. It's harder to find one later in the evening."

Zoya pouted at this, clearly disappointed. Shaziya knelt down to her level, gently caressing her cheek. "I promise I'll come next time, Zoya," she said softly.

Zoya, although still pouting, nodded. "Okay... but next time, I'll tell mamu to come pick you up! That way, you won't have to worry about taxis."

Both Haya and Shaziya couldn't help but laugh at her sweet innocence.

Shaziya pinched Zoya's cheek affectionately. "Mashallah, you're so wise, Zoya."

Haya smiled fondly at her daughter. "She gets it from her mamu," she said with a knowing look, making Shaziya smile.

As they said their goodbyes, Shaziya felt a strange warmth in her chest. Despite her initial nervousness, meeting Haya and Zoya had been a pleasant experience. For a moment, she thought about Azlan-his reserved demeanor, his kind words that day at the shop-and how he had such a caring family.

As Haya drove off, Zoya continued to wave until Shaziya disappeared from view. Inside the car, Zoya leaned back with a satisfied smile, clearly content with her new friend. Haya, watching her daughter, couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about this young woman who had so easily won Zoya's heart.

*****

Aww I love this interaction so much 😍

I feel bad for Azlan 🥺

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Allah Hafiz ✨