Complicatum

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𝕸ornings like today made me wish I had access to a time machine so I could go back and slap the hell out of myself for making whatever decisions led up to this very moment

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𝕸ornings like today made me wish I had access to a time machine so I could go back and slap the hell out of myself for making whatever decisions led up to this very moment.

It was only six o'clock, but the skies were releasing a relentless rain over the city, and I was forcing myself to "enjoy" the only time of the day that I ever got with for myself. Fariha's engagement party had ended in a disaster. The first rumors about our financial crisis had already made the rounds, tarnishing our company. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to escape the onslaught of my wayward thoughts and those memories. What I escaped to was worse. How much longer until we'd be shunned by our social circle? I clung to these thoughts, the kind of quick judgments and forced solitude because they wouldn't betray me like my parents, friends and the people around me. Clinging to them was easier than facing the alternative.

I lay sprawled across the leather armchair, my forehead wrapped in a cotton headband, watching the alarm clock like a hawk. Waiting for the second hand to land on six so I could toss back my set of anxiety medication and deal with my "job" for another day.

The shrill noise of my phone going off halted the sense that I was moving—floating like I was on a raft on calm seas.

"Good morning, Jibran," I answered, fake cheer in my voice. "How may I help you?"

"I'm calling to make sure that you'll be arriving to work on time this morning since you were six minutes late last week," I have to do this for four more months. I can do this for four more months. Think about Nazia. Think about my mother. My father.

"Are you there, Daania?" he asked. "Am I talking to myself?"

"No, Jibran. I heard you loud and clear."

"Good. Now, besides the fact that you'll need to come in on time, Mr. Mughal has asked to see the progress you and the team have made."

"Oh did he not see the weekly ones I've been sending for the past eight weeks?"

"No."

"You're kidding right?"

"No."

"The man doesn't look at the progress reports, doesn't reply to my emails, doesn't bother to have a meeting with me and now he wants to see us?"

"See you," Jibran corrected, his voice full of compassion. "And it's in two hours. And before you think about it, no. Everyone knows you around the office so barging in unannounced or hiding in a secluded closet somewhere is not going to work."

Rage and relief washed over me. Relief that I was finally going to see the man who'd been haunting me for the past two months and rage because he could not be bothered to be concerned about the work I was doing.

"I wasn't thinking about that."

"Yeah, and it doesn't rain in this city."

"What should I..." the line went dead. "Damn it!"

𝔇𝔞𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔇𝔲𝔰𝔨 (The Legacy Duet - 2)Where stories live. Discover now