25th September, 2018

Shumail felt something missing the moment he stepped into his house. The silence in the mansion greeted him like an old ghost. A strange sting pricked his chest as he walked across the expansive, echoing hallway. For the first time in years, the space around him felt cavernous, not majestic.

He paused, taking in the grandeur his parents once filled with warmth. Their laughter. Their wisdom. Their presence. Without them, the mansion was a hollow shell dressed in chandeliers and velvet.

He couldn't deny it anymore—he wanted someone. Someone who'd wait for him to come home. Someone who'd nag him to eat properly. Someone who'd just... be there.

He exhaled heavily and muttered, "Being alone sucks. Maybe Aunt Aasiya's not entirely wrong... maybe I should just let her pick someone for me."

Shaking his head at the thought, he ascended the staircase two steps at a time and entered his room. He loosened his tie, tossed his briefcase on the couch, and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower and change into joggers and a hoodie, he returned to his room, grabbed his laptop, and slumped onto the couch. The new smartphone model needed his attention.

Halfway into designing the interface, his phone buzzed. Plugging in his earphones, he answered the call.

"Good evening, Mr. Chang. How are you doing?"

"Very good evening, Mr. Ibrahim! I'm doing perfectly fine. Hope you're well too."

"Absolutely, thank you."

Mr. Chang's polite laughter rang through. "Once again, apologies for the last-minute cancellation. I hope we can reschedule the meeting?"

"That's no issue at all. When would be a good time?"

"Actually... I'd prefer if we could meet in my hometown in Japan. I've been working remotely and can't travel to Canada for now. Would that be inconvenient?"

Shumail paused, calculating mentally. The team was efficient. He could delegate.

"Not a problem. I'll arrange the travel."

"Splendid! Once you're here, I'll give you a tour of the manufacturing unit. It'll be worth the trip."

"That sounds perfect. I'll finish the structural design tonight and send it across."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and ended the call. Shumail, now motivated, resumed work with new vigor.

The next day, after his Zohr salah, Shumail wandered to the neighborhood playground. Snow covered the swings and slides like frosting on a forgotten cake. In the center stood a snowman—lopsided, with twig arms and a carrot nose that tilted precariously.

A smile crept to his face.

"Praise be to Allah SWT. His creations truly are beautiful," he whispered.

As he sat on the swing, gently swaying, he couldn't shake the thought—he wanted to see Eram. It had been a month since their last accidental meeting. After the text he had sent, which received no reply from her side, he felt embarassed and didn't dare again.

He considered driving to her daycare but realized it was Sunday. Closed. Showing up at her house? Too bold.

He sighed. "Stalker alert," he muttered, imagining her horrified face.

But the urge grew stronger.

He looked at Eram's contact displaying on his screen. He stared at it, debating whether to call. Finally, his thumb pressed the green button.

"Hello?" Her voice.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Panic.

He cut the call.

"What are you? Sixteen?" he scolded himself.

Deep breaths. Then he called again.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Azam. Assalamualaikum."

"Mr. Ibrahim!" 

"Hi!" His voice barely came out.

"How did you get my number?"

"I have my ways," he said smoothly. "You didn't reply to my salam."

"Oh. Umm... Walaikum Assalam."

Awkward silence.

"Umm... can we meet, Ms. Azam?"

Pause.

"Ms. Azam?"

"I'm here. Just... wondering."

His heart sank. "It's okay. I understand. We're not exactly friends. Fee Amanillah."

"Mr. Ibrahim."

"Yes?"

"Can you pick me up?"

Boom. Heart explosion.

"Absolutely. Text me your location."

He raced out, a grin stuck to his face like glue.

Her message came. Fifteen minutes away. He was there in ten.

She stood in a long coat, a hijab loosely wrapped around her head, a light blush on her cheeks from the cold.

He got out of the car. "Salam."

She nodded, replying with a shy smile.

He opened the door for her like a gentleman. Once they were both seated, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

She eyed him suspiciously. "So... why did you want to meet?"

"I was bored," he said nonchalantly. "Needed a distraction."

Her jaw dropped. "Oh, I see. So I'm just your past-time now?"

He nodded solemnly. "Exactly."

"Pull over. I'm not your toy!"

He burst out laughing. "Relax, Ms. Azam! I was just messing with you."

She turned her face away, hiding the ghost of a smile. "You've got a horrible sense of humor."

"I'll make it up to you. The place I'm taking you to will fix everything."

She raised a brow as he pulled into the parking lot.

"An amusement park? Seriously? Are we ten?"

"You'll thank me later. Come on!"

He bought the tickets before she could protest. She tried to argue about paying for herself.

"Can you beat me in go-karts?" he interrupted with a smug grin.

"Try me!"

"Catch me first!" he yelled and dashed off.

She chased after him, breathless, laughing despite herself.

In the go-kart zone, they got into their cars.

"Ready to lose?" he teased.

"Not today, Mr. Ibrahim."

The whistle blew.

Shumail sped off like lightning.

Eram sat frozen.

"How does this stupid thing work?!"

A staff member guided her. "Just press the accelerator, miss."

She groaned and took off, ten seconds too late.

She chased him around the track like a storm. He blocked her every move.

"Naah, not so easily, Ms. Azam!"

"Don't get cocky. We still have two laps left!"

He laughed and nudged her car, making her veer off.

"You did not just bump me off the track!"

He was grinning ear to ear when they finished. She stomped out of her car.

"Wanna go again? I'll even drive one-handed."

"No thank you!"

"Aw, come on! It was fun!"

"You're mean, Mr. Ibrahim."

"You're just a sore loser."

"You cheated!"

"It's called strategy."

"You call bumping people off strategy?"

"You call driving into walls racing?"

"You—" she began, but he was already laughing, running away.

"Take it back or I'll chase you!"

"Make me!"

And just like that, he ran. She chased. Their laughter echoed through the park, swirling with the winter breeze like music only they could hear.

Maybe, just maybe, Shumail Ibrahim didn't need his aunt to choose a girl for him after all.

He'd already found someone who made his mansion feel a little less empty.

Salam guys!!

Ohk so amidst all the chaos going in my house due to the renovation+painting(I can't recognise my house lately) this is what I would come up with...It's a late update I know but I hope you guys understand how work increases tenfold during these times😥

How was the chap??

Comment down below your thoughts...believe your comments make my day ♡_♡

Untill next time...hasta la vista babies!! *flying kisses*