"Will you cry as much when I leave too?" Jesima genuinely wondered, looking at Asma as she wiped her eyes.

"As in when you return to Palestine?" Asma's voice sounded almost broken. Her hands wheeled along the path her mother walked, after leaving her best friend and her newly wedded husband in the suite room they had booked for the night. "No.., not as much."

"I am offended, Asma. A friend's more important to you than your mother?" Jesima clutched her heart, faking nonchalance.

"Mama!" Asma groaned as she turned to face Jesima, "A friend's different from a mother in every aspect but the care she showcases on us sometimes doubles the care of a mother-"

Jesima raised an eyebrow, nodding her head smugly. They came to a stop near the entrance of the hotel just in time as a car parked beside them, Asad opened the driver's door and got out while Asma continued to talk, "A friend is where we lean on our happy and sad days, a friend is where we can be our original self without being ashamed about anything, a friend is a secret bank where we can share all our secrets, moreover, a friend is a go-to person for literally any matter-"

Jesima zoned out her daughter's speech to check whether she had her phone in her purse. Asad on the other hand was listening to the girl's rant, lowering his head to unclasp his shirt button and started rolling his sleeves.

Asma went on to speak about the importance of a friend and how when she gets married, it becomes hard to get a hold of her. Her gaze flickered to her mother who was not giving her attention, her cheeks scrunching in a pout. A gust of wind blew past her, making her turn towards the other recipient of her rants. She clicked her tongue at the sight. She saw Asad's long fingers grazing his elbows as he moved the white fabric of his shirt up. Then her gaze traveled to his face, the neat stubble grazing his cheek and the lowered long eyelashes concealing his black eyes. Gosh, she was a goner for long eyelashes.

Even though she had colored eyes, her lashes were short compared to the man in front of her. The creased eyebrows were midnight black and were densely thick, and perfectly arched. She regarded him differently at that moment. Like the way she had never before.

His lashes moved up the next instant, revealing his eyes. The warm lights of the hotel enlightened in those black skies, making her breath hitch. "Asma-" Jesima called her again, clicking her fingers.

"Huh?"

"Shall we go if your speech about friendship is over?"

Blood rushed through her face, "Yeah! Which you didn't listen to," she complained. Asad opened the door for her quietly, his lips forming a line - a smile he was supposedly hiding, Asma thought to herself as she wheeled near the door while he came to her back to hold the handlebars of her wheelchair. She put a hand on her mother's shoulder, putting half of her weight on her mother while placing her other hand on the car seat and climbing in.

Her eyes wandered to Asad one more time as he closed the door, and then he rolled her wheelchair to the trunk. "The color white suits him," she thought and soon, shook her head for even letting her eyes and thoughts wander over him.

Her heartbeats had eventually spiked up somewhere in between. She smiled to herself, face-palming her forehead.

You are meant for Saad, her mind reminded, not knowing that the fact was about to change.

If love is ever tangible to the naked eye, he was sure that's what he saw when she rolled her wheelchair in his direction. The melancholy of the wedding festivities blurred in the background as the clock trickled in slow motion. Dressed in a foggy white gharara, she looked like an angel descended into the earth.

God! If looks could kill, he would have been a dead meat by now.

Cracks resonated through his heart. For it was all in his head. Love was indeed tangible, real, and near to him except it was unreachable with his bare hands.

Asad looked away from the sight of the girl in the wheelchair, the girl who had effortlessly, unknowingly crushed him into love. Into a different realm of feelings. The painful fact of it all was, that he wasn't given time to nurse his heartbreak, even though almost a week had passed, the gush in his heart was still bleeding.

Everyone around him was catering with sheer joy, he would have been among them too had she not crossed paths with him. Reminding him of how much she mattered to him. To his heart. How it should be impossible for him to forget her for even a second.

He hadn't overcome her, yet he was supposed to take her to the hotel where her best friend - married to his twin - was staying, just so she could hug her one more time. Cliche, but it was her best friend aka his newlywed(Bhabhi) who called her to come because she was already missing her.

Asad adjusted the rearview mirror, cautiously avoiding looking at her. It pained him every time he had a glance at her beautiful face that she was his love but not entirely his. One of his hands clutched the steering wheel, and while driving, unintentionally his gaze traveled to the back seat where he found her crying for the hundredth time that day.

"Jessie, she is crying. Again." He informed her mother while Asma quickly dried her eyes.

"Asma, you will undergo dehydration if you don't stop crying." Jesima groaned from the passenger seat.

Asma's voice came out raspy, "Mama, it hurts. So much."

Sting.

"She just got married off, I don't understand why marriage makes you people so emotional. " Asad put forth, getting onto the highway.

"Marriage is like a funeral, we leave everything behind-"

"Jessie, at least you don't compare a dead body to a woman who has put all her life into the dress and makeup of her wedding day."

The car fell silent at Asma's loud gasp, "You are so judgmental."

Asad let out, "Please don't cry for that now."

Jesima then leaned to her right so that she could reach the gap between the front seats, that opened way into the back seat, "Is Aunty Scarlet visiting you?"

The car jerked as Asad pushed the accelerator a little too fast. "Mama!" Asma's voice was now horrified. "You can't address it so publicly."

"Well," Jesima shook her head, "What do I do? I am starting to get worried with all your tears."

"Then again-"

"Asma, it's not a big deal. I have been addressing all of these measly things in front of the opposite gender for a long time now."

"That's because you are a Gynac, and I am a civilian."

"Can you both stop?" Asad asked, his face burning.

Jesima patted his shoulder with her wallet, "Trust me, boy, you will grow over it too. Just a matter of fact when." She then looked at her daughter's face as hot and red as a tomato in the rearview mirror, "So tell me if that's the case."

"Now that I think of it, I think I misplaced the pain in my stomach to be in my heart-"

Asad stopped the car at a red light when Jesima further enquired, "Is it bearable? How do you feel now that you have realized what's happening inside of you?"

"When you imply it like that, then my pain is getting unbearable," Asma cried, a fresh set of tears spilling through her eyes.

Asad looked around to confirm what he heard, Asma was clutching her stomach, crying. Something inside him stirred at the sight. Even though the actual subject was cringe-worthy for him, his eyes glued onto her for a second as if trying to take all the pain away from her. "What should we do now?" He asked, turning to her mother.

"A hot or cold pack, dark chocolate-" Jesima was laying the options when Asma retaliated from behind, "I want chamomile tea."

"Really?" Both Asad and Jesima wondered in unison, turning in their seats to meet her eyes.

The grayish-green irises swam in a whirlpool of emotions, "Yes," she replied, licking her parched lips. "That's what helps me to ease."

Asad then skimmed his watch," Starbucks is going to close in a few minutes. I will check if there's any other coffee shop falls in our way-"

"May Allah reward you," Asma prayed, groaning with tremors of pain.

"May Allah ease your affairs," Asad chimed, "May Allah make you mine." His heart whispered.

"Aameen," Jesima replied, "Now, focus on the road."

They rode in silence as Asad opened the directions for the open coffee shops on his mobile, even though some of the shops were open, the stated "chamomile tea" wasn't available, so he had to drive to the next shop.

After three failed attempts, he finally got his beloved's aid for her ailment. He was almost grinning victoriously, crossing the door and walking up to them. His eyebrows shot up when Jesima opened the passenger seat door and rushed to her daughter in the back seat.

Asad's footsteps hurried, and he saw Jesima hugging Asma in a tight grip, crying her heart out. "What's wrong?" he asked once reaching them. "What happened now?"

Asma looked up from her mother's shoulders, her emerald pupils glistened in the rays from the dim street lights. He felt like he was getting transported to the Arctic, witnessing the northern lights. A shrill ran down his spine as if he felt the cold in there, seeped through his bones.

He licked his lips, "Asma?" The way he called her name. Every living cell in his body rebirthed. In her love. "Tell me."

"Nana Abbu suffered a cardiac arrest today, we just got the call-"

Asad nodded, moving his attention to Jesima, "Jessie, he is going to be okay."

Jesima broke the hug, "I can't lose another person I love-"

"Nothing is going to happen to him-"

Jesima's face was blank as if she wasn't in a state to believe his words. "I want to be with him now."

"Let's go there," Asma offered.

"Can we?"

"Yes, I will ask Phu to check if we can leave the country right away."

"Do you want me to accompany you both?" Asad made his presence known, looking in between the mother and daughter.

"It's your go," Jesima wiped her eyes, while Asma regarded him for a moment, "It would be really helpful if you do so," she stated.

Asad nodded, handing Asma her chamomile tea. "Then let's get moving. "

This chapter may not be wholesome but it's what I could make with all that is happening in the world. I will try to make the next chapter appealing, coz things are going to be more interesting now. Vote, comment, and enjoy.

Please pray for Palestine, every free air we breathe is an attestation to what they are going through. Let's stand on their side with whatever we can.