Chapter 170 - Tea!

Farah marched down the hallway of the hospital. Yusuf trailed close behind. 

"Who do you want to see first, ma'am?" he ventured cautiously, unsure if he should even ask. 

She stopped abruptly. Her gaze fell on a small alcove at the far end. There were two staff member in a bright blue uniform stood behind a table, a steaming electric kettle beside them. They were pouring cups of warm tea for the worried relatives of patients. 

A plan seemed to solidify in her mind, "Prof. Syed first."

She marched towards the refreshment area, leaving a bewildered Yusuf in her wake. Reaching the staff member, she grabbed a cup full of tea. 

Turning back to Yusuf, she demanded, "Which room is Prof. in?"

"Room no. 129."

Just as she brushed past Yusuf, his voice stopped her again. "At least drink the tea first, ma'am. It'll definitely spill if you try walking with it like that."

She momentarily halted her determined march. "Who said this is for me?"

Yusuf watched her go. Shaking his head he muttered to himself, "No one can understand this girl's mind."

Farah slid the door of room 129 open. Professor Syed, perched on a wheelchair near a small table, looked up in surprise. A half-eaten lunch sat before him on the table. His left hand was wrapped in a bandage. And a part of bandage peeked out from under the loose pajamas covering his left leg, hinting at further injuries.

She marched across the room, placing the teacup beside his plate with a sigh, "Well, Professor. I thought you'd be in a much worse state. Bandaged up, lying in bed, moaning in pain. Looks like you just got a few scratches. A little disappointed, really. But a wheelchair? Now that's a sight for sore eyes."

Usama's gaze hardened in response to her obvious mockery, "Your sarcasm is hardly amusing, Miss Farah. You have no idea how many injuries I got." 

The truth was, the explosion had left its mark on more than just his arm and leg. Under the shirt he wore, his torso and back bore the red marks of burns.

He eyed the teacup with suspicion. "Did you bring that for me?"

She pulled a chair closer, settling herself directly in front of him. They were now close enough to reach out and touch, "Yeah, drink it." 

But he remained motionless. He wasn't taking any chances. The anger in her eyes, the unexpected visit, it all screamed of a hidden agenda.

Farah leaned forward, a sharp edge to her voice. "What happened, Professor? Think about it for a second. If we were actually married, would you question every cup of tea I served you?"

"So that's what this is about. You're here about the marriage proposal…" Prof. Syed paused, taking a deep breath. "Farah, I meant what I said. I would love to marry you."

But his attempt at 'sincerity' was cut short by a sudden, violent movement. She grabbed the cup of tea and flung it with all her might. The cup sailed through the air, the hot liquid splashing against Professor Syed's chest.

A searing pain erupted across his bandaged torso, the hot liquid scalding his already tender skin. It wasn't just the heat – a sharp, stinging sensation, like a thousand tiny needles, stabbed at his injured flesh. A choked gasp escaped his lips. 

Farah put salt in the tea earlier. The combination of the boiling water and the salt crystals created a burning sensation that went far beyond a simple scald. 

His right hand, the one that wasn't bandaged, instinctively flew to his chest, clutching at the burning spot. Through the haze of pain, he saw Farah towering over him, "What did you do?"

"If you ever think about marrying me again," she hissed, "I will burn you .... ALIVE. Remember that. I may be a good person, willing to help those in need. But when it comes to you, there's no limit. And believe me, you don't even want to know the depths of my hatred for you."

"You...you think this will scare me, Farah?" Usama stammered. 

"Oh Professor, You have no idea what you're in for. If you dare to even breathe a word about proposing again, I will expose everything. Everything I know about your and Uncle's human trafficking ring you've been running with Black Mamba for years. And don't forget," she added, "my boyfriend's a police officer."

"You'll pay for this! You've gone too far!" His scream echoed through the room. 

He lashed out with his one good hand, slamming his fist against the metal armrest of the wheelchair in anger. 

Farah met his outburst with a smile. The fear in his eyes, the desperation in his voice – that was the satisfaction she wanted to see. Turning on her heel, she left the room, the click of the closing door the final punctuation mark on their explosive encounter. 

Emerging into the corridor, she spotted Yusuf waiting patiently, "Let's go." She glanced at her phone, "Oh no, I missed the first lecture already."

"Sure, ma'am, but how did it…"

Yusuf trailed off midsentence as something in the distance caught his eye. Across the open space of the hospital atrium, he spotted Aqil and Nayla walking hand-in-hand along a corridor on the upper floor. The circular design of the hospital allowed him a clear view despite being on a different floor.

Aqil's arm was wrapped around Nayla's waist, gently supporting her as she walked. He was whispering something to Nayla's ear and she started to laugh. They were the picture of a happy couple, their easy affection evident even from a distance.

Yusuf couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Nayla laugh like that with him. Maybe if he'd treated her differently, things could have been different. Maybe they could have been that happy couple too. 

Farah's sharp eyes followed Yusuf's gaze. "Let's go, Romeo," she teased, "Looks like Nayla's found her happily ever after."

Nodding mutely, he mumbled, "She deserves to be happy,"

As they began to walk away, Yusuf cleared his throat. "So, are you going to visit Sir Rafi or not?"

Farah stopped short, "Nope. I'm not in mood now. And to be honest, I can't exactly act all emotional in front of Uncle. Well..... wasn't this whole car explosion Ibrahim's handiwork?"

"Yeah." Not another word Yusuf said.

She observed him with crossed arms, "You seem to know an awful lot about Ibrahim. Maybe I shouldn't be throwing his name around so casually. Should I be calling Ibrahim as your…..... new boss? I'm getting some serious vibes here. Like I'm getting the feeling you're the one who planted those bomb in Professor's car. Following orders from your precious new boss?" 

Yusuf looked at her in disbelief. He hadn't anticipated Farah putting the pieces together so quickly. Flustered, he stammered out a weak defense. "What? No! Your mind must be racing a mile a minute, Farah. Don't go making crazy accusations. You'll give yourself a brain aneurysm if you keep thinking like that!"

He quickened his pace, heading towards the hospital exit. 

"So I guessed right," Farah murmured to herself.