After switching off the engine, Nasseem remained seated in his car, leaning back against the seat as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. The weight of the day's challenges lingered in his mind, causing him to stare at the steering wheel, contemplating the events that unfolded.

It had been an exhausting day, filled with frantic efforts to rectify a single mistake—a mere number—that had wreaked havoc on various aspects of his tasks. The frustration of having to run around, navigating through the aftermath of that one error, weighed heavily on his shoulders. Feeling the need to physically release the tension that had accumulated, he hopped out of the car and stretched his limbs.

With a deep exhale, Nasseem pushed the front door open.

As he entered the house, he was greeted by dimness, with only the faint glow of a quiet TV casting intermittent flickers of light. The stillness was broken by a gentle aroma wafting through the air, hinting at the presence of food. His stomach growled in protest, reminding him of its neglected state. It had been deprived lately, and he had to fix his eating habits before collapsing from malnourishment.

Leaving his shoes by the entrance, Nasseem walked further into the house. Then, his steps faltered when he noticed the pervasive absence of light and the eerie silence that enveloped the space. A frown formed on his face, for it was unusual to find the house devoid of any signs of activity. 

Normally, Zahra could be found in her room, engrossed in her own world, chatting with his sister on the phone, or occasionally in the kitchen, tending to the evening meal. However, tonight, there was no indication of her presence.

Quietly approaching the living room, he peeked around the corner. There, he discovered her sprawled across the couch, her body contorted in an awkward and seemingly uncomfortable position. It was evident that exhaustion had taken its toll, causing her to succumb to a deep slumber. Nasseem hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to rouse her from her sleep or let her rest undisturbed.

Shaking his head, he retreated. She'd be too embarrassed if he woke her up.

With his stomach still grumbling, Nasseem made his way to the kitchen to quieten his grumbling tummy. As he entered, his attention was drawn to a note resting on the countertop that read: 'Check the fridge'.

When he opened the refrigerator door, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Inside, he discovered a plate filled to the brim with the most appetizing spaghetti he had seen in quite some time. His mouth watered involuntarily at the sight of the delicious meal, and he noticed another note placed atop it. 

'Tastes better when just cooked, but I hope you enjoy it still.' 

He couldn't suppress his smile even as he heated it in the microwave. Glancing at her motionless figure, he pondered once more whether she would be irritable if he woke her up. Curiosity surged within him, urging him to find out, but he resisted and focused on his plate.

Perhaps, he would be the one embarrassed, not her.

🏵️🏵️🍃🏵️🏵️

Halfway through, his self-restraint waned. Nasseem couldn't help but wonder if she had eaten. After switching off the television, he approached her with a measured pace.

"Hey, Zahra," he called out, but she remained unresponsive. Undeterred, he made another attempt. His hesitant hand reached out and gently shook her shoulder. He noticed an unusual warmth radiating from her. Could it be the weather, or was it due to her prolonged sleep?

She stirred slightly, muttering incoherently.

"Hey, Zahra, wake up."

As she propped herself upright, she momentarily wavered but managed to regain her balance. "Hm, what?"

His brows furrowed. Her complexion appeared pale, her skin slightly moist, and her eyes burdened with fatigue.

"Are you okay?"

"Who? Me?" She coughed and swayed again but he caught her this time and touched her forehead with his wrist while she waved him off. "Yeah, yeah."

"Okay, no, you're not okay. You're burning up."

Nasseem helped her up but her knees buckled, prompting him to swiftly enclose her in his embrace. Zahra uttered fragmented apologies, yet he remained silent, lifting her gently before carrying her to her room.

Her head nestled in the curve of his neck, her arms dangling lifelessly at her sides, and her eyes shut peacefully. Gradually, he eased her down onto the bed, carefully withdrawing his arms from beneath her.

Filled with frustration for not having checked on her earlier, he hurriedly darted around the house, snatching a towel and soaking it in cold water. Then, he gently wiped her face and the exposed areas of her arms, before re-soaking the cloth and placing it tenderly on her forehead.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, "It'll go away tomorrow morning."

"You're not fine. I can barely hear your voice."

Ensuring she was more securely positioned against the pillows, he readjusted the towel and then made his way to the kitchen to prepare a nourishing bowl of chicken soup for her. Nasseem couldn't shake off the surge of anger directed at himself, despite being unsure of its exact cause.

🏵️🏵️🍃🏵️🏵️

Reluctantly, he knew he had to rouse her once more. Placing the tray on the bedside table, he called out her name, prompting a groan to escape her lips.

"Come on, you have to eat."

"Tomorrow," she mumbled, "...eat...tomorrow."

Nasseem chuckled softly, amused by her adorable pout. He placed his index finger on her creased forehead. Her sleepy eyes fluttered open, causing him to hold his breath. They were drowsy, yet simultaneously unveiled and defenseless, captivatingly wide and beckoning, brimming with vividness and an enchanting allure.

When she glanced at his finger, he removed it and stammered, "Come on, sit, you have to eat."

This time, she followed obediently. Her hand shook slightly but she persevered until her soup was finished. Zahra consumed each spoonful solely driven by the desire to conceal the embarrassment that had sobered her up.

Nasseem returned to her room, presenting her with a cup of herbal tea. "I added a slice of lemon to it, so...I hope it suits your taste," he said, offering the warm beverage to her.

Zahra restrained herself from breaking into a grin and offered him a small, appreciative smile. "I do, thank you."

He placed a bottle of water and some medication within her reach, providing instructions on how to take the pills. After adjusting her towel once again, he left her to finish her tea.

Her heart swelled with warmth, touched by the exceptional care she was receiving. Aside from Warda, no one had ever tended to her in such a nurturing manner. She couldn't help but miss her best friend but understood the hectic life she was leading, balancing work, married life, and the responsibilities of being a parent.

Feeling significantly better compared to when Nasseem initially woke her up, she made her way outside. Though her body felt lighter, her head throbbed still but less than it did before, making room for her heart to pound against her ribs as she approached her fake husband who was scrolling down his phone while finishing the rest of his cold food.

"I'm sorry. I should've taken better care of myself."

Nasseem turned her way. Why was she apologizing for getting sick?

"No, it's okay. The weather is a bit bipolar around this time and the farm doesn't help." Relieved when she laughed, he smiled. "Feeling better?"

Thank God it wasn't serious. It must've been because she slept in a draft the previous night. Plus, she's always been frail, quickly falling sick but healing just as fast. It was almost supernatural.

"Surprisingly so, yeah. Thank you. I just need some time to get used to it here, I guess."

He nodded.

Zahra hesitated for a bit before setting the cup in the sink and leaning against it. "Nasseem, when do you think the papers will be ready?"

He emitted a thoughtful hum. Having already thoroughly discussed the matter with the immigration attorney, who had provided reassurance about the progress made thus far, he felt optimistic. "Not long, probably by next week."

"Good."

Satisfied, Zahra blinked sleep away as she headed back to her room.

"Zahra."

Zahra paused by the doorway and turned around, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "Hm? Did you need something?"

"Do you have anything to do tomorrow?"

Nasseem berated himself internally, regretting his question. It was a stupid question to ask someone currently unwell and unemployed, but the hopeful look on her face encouraged him further.

"Nope."

"I don't have work so, uh, I thought maybe I'd show you around the farm..."

Watching her eyes brighten and her smile broaden, Nasseem couldn't help but despise himself for having left her alone during the past week, especially after suggesting that they become friends. He's always been terrible at communicating.

"I'd love to," Zahra paused. "Hey, Nasseem."

"Yeah?"

"Sweet or salty?"

Tilting his head to the side, he pondered for a moment. "Sweet."

"Good night, Nasseem."

"Sweet dreams, Zahra."