Mending Broken Hearts

1. First Impressions

Chicago, Illinois

July 2019

Omar

First day of intern year was here. A new beginning was upon me. An opportunity to start over, do better, go further. 

It should have been a good day too. I was living in one of the most exciting cities in the world, and about to start work at one of the best hospitals in the country, even if it wasn't my first choice of residency program. It was a means to a goal - a top tier surgery residency program. 

One year, in and out. Easy peasy. I kept reminding myself that I planned to only stay at the institution my ex-fiancé worked at for only a year before applying to surgery and hopefully getting the hell out of here. 

But as I stepped out of my apartment, my breath was still stuck in my throat and my clammy palms betrayed the sunny outlook I was trying to portray. My mind was still stuck on the possibility of facing her again. And worse, on facing him - the complicated man who took everything from me. 

That day I met neither. Yet, somehow my day just went from bad to worse. 

It was my rotten kismet at work, I swear!

*******

My phone rang just a few steps into my walk to work that day. Ami's picture was flashing on the screen like it had so many times in the last few days. Some of those calls I had ignored, others I had to cut short since I was in the middle of a move. But neither had discouraged her, so I gave in and accepted her call. Knowing full well that I had really just opened the gates to my own personal abyss of hellish misery. 

"Omar, did you look at the pictures I sent to you?" A shrill voice pierced my early morning peace. 

"Salaam Ami. Are you not even going to greet your only son properly?" I laughed, but only half-jokingly.

"Wasalaam. Now answer my question!" she insisted.

"I did look at the pictures but I don't know what you want me to do with them. They all look fine."

What I had really wanted to say was, stop sending me pictures of random young women. I refuse to find a wife this way. But I was the perfect, polite son. So I kept quiet, only silently sighing. 

"I am getting so sick and tired of your delaying tactics. What kind of a girl do you even want? And don't say an independent career-minded girl, you've seen what such girls do" Ami's voice dripped with hostility.

She had never been a fan of Noor, even when growing up. She was too out-going for her to be a good bahu, and too career-minded to be a good wife. There was no hiding that hostility now either when she painted every working woman with the same broad strokes. 

But I was in no mood to get sucked into an argument with her so I simply replied, "All I want is someone who is nice and easy to talk to. I honestly don't have any requirements per se."

"Fine", she huffed, "I am going to go talk to your dad and we and we are going to go meet some of these girls and their families and let you know who we like."

"Ami wait, you're going now? I am not ready" I all but panicked. My plea went unanswered because she had already hung up and I was left staring at my phone screen in the middle of the sidewalk as people all around me rushed to their destinations. 

Oh great! I resisted the urge to call back. It wasn't going to change anything anyway. Nothing ever worked out in my life, so perhaps it was time to leave the reigns to someone else.