Chapter 27

Chapter 27, Two Stories

Mrs. Hanifah's heels clicked confidently against the polished marble floor as she led Anaya into the towering structure that would be her new workplace. The building loomed above them like a monument to power and success, all glass and steel, with a sense of modern sophistication pulsing through its very core.

It was breathtaking—far grander than even her father's company. The lobby alone gleamed with opulence: crystal chandeliers, leather couches, and a massive digital wall displaying global projects, from real estate towers in Dubai to tech headquarters in Singapore.

Anaya's eyes widened as she took in the scale of it all. "Mom," she whispered, turning to her. "How did you even secure me a position here… and a contract on top of that? Who do you even know in a company like this?"

Mrs. Hanifah smiled—but it wasn't an ordinary smile. It was knowing, confident, almost smug. "Just wait and see, my dear," she replied cryptically.

They stepped into the elevator, which whisked them up to one of the highest floors. The higher they rose, the more Anaya's anticipation turned to nervousness. What was her mother up to?

As they exited, a suited security guard stopped them at the glass double doors. "I'm sorry, but do you have an appointment or an ID to show?"

Anaya glanced at her mother, but before she could respond, a sharply dressed personal assistant appeared and smiled politely. "Sir asked me to let them in. Please, follow me."

Anaya's heart skipped a beat. Sir?

They were led into a massive office. It was a CEO's suite—designed with minimalist elegance and power in mind. The walls were mostly glass, offering a view of the city's skyline. The furniture was modern, in shades of charcoal and silver, and a long conference table stretched across one side of the room.

And seated at the desk, calm and self-assured, was someone Anaya never expected to see anytime soon.

Her breath caught.

"Haris?" she breathed, stunned.

Haris Adeel looked up from his laptop, his face unreadable but composed—as if her presence had been anticipated all along. That same calm gaze, that same unnerving confidence. A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips.

"Welcome, Anaya," he said smoothly.

Her lips parted in disbelief. "Haris Adeel…"

They exchanged a brief, polite greeting. He stood, shook her hand gently, and added, "It's really nice having you here, Naya."

She only managed a tight, awkward smile in return. Her mind raced. She could barely process the shock of seeing him, let alone the idea of working under him.

Without another word, Anaya turned to her mother and gripped her hand firmly.

"I need to speak to you," she said, her voice low but urgent.

Haris, noticing the shift in her demeanor, straightened in concern. "Is everything okay, Naya?"

Mrs. Hanifah quickly stepped in. "We'll be right back," she told him with a warm smile, leading Anaya out of the office.

They found a quiet hallway away from the main office space. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Anaya whirled on her mother, arms crossed, her eyes sharp with frustration.

"What's going on, Mom?" she demanded.

Mrs. Hanifah, unfazed, gently cupped her daughter's face. "Anaya, what's the matter?"

"Don't do that," Anaya snapped, pulling away. "Please, don't act like this is all a coincidence. You knew Haris was the CEO here. You knew what happened between me and Zayd. He was one of the main reasons my marriage almost fell apart!"

"And?" her mother said coolly, folding her arms across her chest.

"Are you seriously going to throw away this opportunity just because of your husband? Besides, you'll only be working with him professionally — it's not like I'm sending you back into his arms. So please, relax."

Anaya remained silent, fuming quietly.

"Anaya," her mother pressed. "Do you even realize the kind of favor you're being offered here? This company doesn't hire just anyone. Most of their staff have years of experience, international degrees, multiple qualifications. Yet Haris is offering you—a relatively inexperienced graduate—a top-tier contract, working with global clients. Do you think chances like this just fall into people's laps?"

She paused, letting the words settle. "I can see you're truly willing to live a quiet life with that poor husband of yours. Fine if that's what you want. But Anaya… this contract could change your life. You could be set for life. Even your children—your grandchildren—would never know poverty if you just take this."

Still, Anaya said nothing. Her mind was torn, racing through conflicting thoughts.

"Remember who you were before," Mrs. Hanifah added gently. "You used to travel. Enjoy girls' trips. Get gifts, live a little. Don't you miss any of that?"

Anaya's voice finally emerged, soft and conflicted. "Mom, it's not about the money or the lifestyle. I am leaving my life to the fullest with Zayd, and.... he won't accept this. If he finds out I'm working for Haris, it'll cause a huge rift between us. Maybe even worse."

"But he didn't clearly or directly forbid you from working with Haris," her mother countered sharply. "And if you can't tell him… then don't. He doesn't need to know. It's not like you're lying. You're just… withholding unnecessary information. And beside if he loves you enough, he would surely support you"

Anaya stared at her in disbelief. "Mom, no. I can't do that. That's complete betrayal. He will find out eventually. And when he does... it'll break everything."

Her mother sighed, then took a step closer, her tone lowering with intensity. "Then let me handle it. Don't worry about him. He has no right to deprive you of an opportunity like this."

Anaya hesitated again.

"You don't see it, do you?" Mrs. Hanifah continued. "This job won't just help you. It'll help him too. You'll be in a position to uplift both of you. To secure a future you can control. Do you really want to keep depending on him forever? You deserve a good life Anaya"

"I don't think—" Anaya started, but her mother suddenly snapped.

"Anaya, listen to me carefully," Mrs. Hanifah said, her voice hardening. "If you reject this offer, you're not just walking away from the job. You're walking away from me."

Anaya's eyes widened. "Mom, please…"

"No. Don't 'please' me," her mother said coldly. "I've tried to support you through everything. But if your marriage ever falls apart again, don't come running to me. Let your father keep babysitting your problems, sending you back to that house where no one sees your worth. You've already let them turn you into someone who lives without taste, without ambition. If you don't rise now, you'll keep being his obedient little toy, living a life of bland simplicity—something you were never meant for."

She turned to leave.

"Wait," Anaya called after her, her voice low but certain.

Mrs. Hanifah paused, looking over her shoulder.

"I think… I think I'll give it a try," Anaya said quietly.

A slow smile spread across her mother's face. Triumphant. Pleased. "Good girl."

___

Mrs. Hanifah had only spoken briefly to Haris before she left, just moments before Anaya walked into the office. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor, announcing her presence. Haris looked up immediately, and the moment their eyes met, a genuine smile spread across his face — one that lit up his entire expression.

"You're back," he said, standing with an unmistakable hint of happiness in his voice.

Anaya only gave a small nod.

"Good," he said, gesturing toward the chair opposite his desk. "Please, have a seat. Let's get you started."

She settled into the seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Haris leaned back, exuding a composed yet unmistakable excitement—more than what was expected from a CEO welcoming a new hire.

"Haris," Anaya said, her voice steady, "I have a request. I want everything between us at work to remain strictly professional."

____

Few minutes later.

"Well, I've always believed in nurturing potential," he said, as he typed a few keys on his keyboard. "You've been assigned to the 'Eclipse Project'—our latest major development initiative in the U.S. You'll be under my direct supervision, and you'll coordinate with eleven other team members."

He turned his monitor toward her, displaying profiles and photos.

"This is Sandra—your Project assistance. Sharp and very supportive. You'll love working with her. Then there's Malik, our lead architect, and Kareem from the International Liaison Office—he'll guide you on foreign policy and client communication. Each person on this project brings a unique skill set. You'll find your place quickly."

Anaya nobbed slightly.

"I'll be your primary point of contact for Eclipse," Haris continued. "That means we'll be in regular contact—meetings, site inspections, virtual calls… it'll be demanding but fulfilling."

She gave a slow nod, trying to absorb the new reality.

Haris checked the clock, then stood up. "There's a team meeting in twenty minutes. Come with me—I'll introduce you to everyone and get your ID sorted."

Before stepping away, he turned back to her, eyes more sincere than she expected.

"If you ever feel overwhelmed or unsure—about anything—call me. Don't hesitate. Even if it's just a policy document or something minor, I want to help. Personally."

"That's very kind of you," she said, quietly.

He tilted his head slightly. "I mean it, Anaya. I'm not saying this because of anything from the past. I just believe in you. Want you to succeed in life."

And with that, he led the way.

---

The meeting was brief but efficient. Haris introduced her to the rest of the team—everyone from analysts to creative leads. Thankfully, just as they were stepping out of the conference room, Haris got a call and had to leave immediately.

Anaya remained behind, working with her new team. Haris never returned, even well past closing hours.

---

By the time she got home, the comforting aroma of warm food greeted her. Zayd was at the dining table, carefully setting out the dishes. They had only exchanged a few brief messages throughout the day, but his quiet effort now said more than words.

"Anaya, you're back," he said warmly as soon as he saw her. There was a gentle smile on his face, but Anaya's chest tightened with quiet guilt. She is keeping the truth from him.

"Yes, I am," she replied, walking straight to the bedroom.

Zayd followed, concern edging his voice. "I didn't know you'd start today. How was it? Where's the place? Did everything go well?"

"All is well," she answered simply, heading into the bathroom. She took a long shower, prayed, and then returned to the dining area.

They ate mostly in silence, the sound of cutlery the only thing breaking the stillness. But she could feel his eyes on her—watching, waiting.

Finally, she sighed and met his gaze. "What is it, Zayd?"

"You've barely said anything about your job since you got back. Do you like it? Where exactly are you working?"

Anaya swallowed. "Yes, I did. And I like it, Zayd. You wouldn't believe how much I'm going to earn from it."

She began to tell him about her tasks, her team, the projects—painting an exciting picture. But when it came to the name of the company, she lied. She just couldn't bring herself to say she was working under Haris. Not yet.

Zayd smiled a little, clearly proud of her, even though he still have that sence of uneasiness.

Even though her chest still felt weighed down with the burden of half-truths. But the truth is that Anaya didn't plan to tell him—not any time soon. No matter what, she just can't bring her heart to.

___

The house was unusually quiet, yet every ticking second echoed like thunder in Zeenat's chest. Tomorrow, Rayyan would marry Sakinat. And tonight, the walls around her felt tighter than ever.

She sat on her prayer mat long after Isha, the Qur'an still open before her. She had read a few verses before finally closing it — that alone had helped her hold on till now.

Her lips trembled.

"Ya Allah..." she whispered, her hands raised in the silence of her room.

"I asked for peace. For Your mercy... to help me bear what I cannot change. Let me not lose myself in this pain."

"You gave him to me as a test, and You can take this hurt away too. Ya Rabb... strengthen my heart."

She sat back on her knees, her face glowing under the soft light of the bedside lamp. Her heart ached, but there was peace in her submission.

She didn't know what tomorrow would bring — but tonight, she gave her sorrow to Allah. And that was enough.

Not thirty minutes had passed when Rayyan knocked and entered the room. She barely saw him these days; he left early and returned late ever since the wedding was announced.

He sat at the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for Zeenat to finish her prayer. When she stood up and approached him, she asked, "You're back, Rayyan. Welcome. Do you need anything?"

"Your food is in the flask — should I warm it for you?"

They weren't fighting, but their relationship hadn't been the same since Sakinat came into the picture. Now, they only spoke when necessary.

Rayyan shook his head. "No, Zeenat. That's not it. I just came to ask if you're okay… or if you need anything."

She blinked. "Anything? Like what?"

He stood up and walked toward her. "Like… if you want me to buy you anything, or if you want me to take you anywhere."

"No need, Rayyan," she said quietly.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, and she nodded.

The only thing she truly needed — the only thing that could ease her mind — was for him not to marry Sakinat. But that wasn't going to happen she thought. So what was the point of hoping?

"Fine… but are you really okay?" he asked once more, and she nodded again.

He was halfway out the door when he paused, turned to her and added, "Because I don't want Dad calling me later to say you're not okay."

He was about to leave when Zeenat's voice stopped him.

"So, Rayyan… you only came to check on me because of your dad?" she asked.

"Can't you check on me in this marriage unless your father tells you to?

Can't you do anything for Allah's sake — not for your father, Rayyan?"

He stood still, staring at her. It was as if he lost his voice. A moment later, he left the room without saying a word.

---

The Next Day

Only one hour remained before Rayyan's wedding to Sakinat. Zeenat, who had tried so hard to stay composed in front of her guests, couldn't hold it in anymore. She left the living room and went straight to her room.

It was already the wedding day.

Zeenat had been dressed up nicely by her aunt and cousins — Aunt Khadija had insisted, even though Zeenat hadn't planned on making much of a scene. But it was no longer a secret. Rayyan's name as a CEO had already drawn media attention, and the wedding was printed in magazines. Unlike her quiet, hidden wedding to him, this one was loud and popular.

Now, her living room was filled with relatives and friends.

Inside her room, Aunt Khadija, Mariya, and Amira gathered around the crying Zeenat.

"Don't worry, my dear. Wipe your tears. You can do this," Aunt Khadija consoled gently.

"Please just keep praying," Mariya added.

Amira, sitting across from them, didn't say anything at first. Then she muttered bitterly, "I'm sure your husband would regret this. Who gets married again just one month after marrying a woman like you?"

It took them a lot of convincing — and Amira's constant shade-throwing at Rayyan — before they finally left her room with her.

Not long after they returned to the parlor, one of their friends read aloud from her phone.

"Rayyan is officially… Rayyan is finally married to Sakinat."