A/N: Make sure to read 40b after this!
Madiha
Buick LeSabres are the type of cars that people often label as the most reliable ones they have ever bought. The 2005 model I sat in, trying to catch my breath, had absolutely lived up to that reputation. From hauling my siblings and me to school every day to getting dented and painted multiple times as the three of us learned to drive on it, yet never giving us any major trouble, it was the trusted companion that always gave more than it asked.
Yet, a Buick LeSabres was not a Porsche. No matter how many bells and whistles it was embellished with or how loyal it was, it could ever match the refined elegance and soft leather seats of the luxurious German car.
Much like the intelligent woman within, who had reached heights few had despite her middle-class roots, couldn't metamorphose into the fair and graceful embodiment of impeccable tastes and sophistication so cherished by Mrs. Khan.
Those were just the irrefutable facts.
A reality that had to be accepted.
A reality that I thought I had accepted, even if the tears silently falling into my lap begged to differ.
It had been less than 10 days since I was on the phone with Omar's mother pleading with her to accept me for who I was, because her son had with all his heart. It had been even fewer days since she had called me asking for help managing her husband's BiPAP because her son was too exhausted. Yet, it seemed that tearful apologies and heartfelt thank-you's were nothing more than a mirage - an ephemeral awakening of the conscience only when Mrs. Khan needed something from me.
Jo family Naeem bhai ki itni beizzati karsakti hai woh tumhari izzat kabhi nahi karegi, Abu's words came to mind. My father's instincts had never been wrong. I had desperately hoped they were this time. I had even convinced myself that he was just being overprotective. (The family that humiliated Naeem bhai can never respect you).
How naïvely wrong I had been, though.
A tap on the window drew my attention. There, in her peach chiffon dress adorned with delicate pearls intricately woven into the golden embroidery, stood the woman for whom Mrs. Khan had so lovingly acquired that jewelry set. Even I couldn't help but acknowledge what a vision she was, with her flawless wheatish fair complexion and sleek straight golden-brown hair.
Omar chose you, a voice within me argued.
Yet, there were those irrefutable facts again: he loved her first, then she tossed him aside.
"Could I sit with you?" she asked through the locked door.
"Yes, of course Noor," I hurriedly opened the door for her, embarrassed at myself for being so lost in my own thoughts. She had been nothing but a good friend and whatever issues I had with my in-laws wasn't her fault.
She slid in, and I heard her sigh. "I am really sorry," she said in a quiet voice.
"What for?" I asked. "You didn't make my mother-in-law hate me."
"No, but I could have warned you about her narcissistic personality."
"It's not like I didn't know, Noor," I shrugged. I had known it the moment I sat with Omar outside his research lab. "I guess, I just hoped she would have change."
"Few people ever change, Madi. Especially, when changing means losing their position of power," she replied solemnly.
Power. This was a power move, it finally sunk in. It was her putting me in my place. Reminding me that I may have made a place in her son's heart but I would never be a part of their family in the real essence, because I hadn't been born in the right family.
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Mending Broken Hearts
Romance#2 in the desi medical romance series He couldn't get over his ex-fiancé who had unceremoniously broken off their engagement just five days before their wedding. She was engaged to a man who did not respect her or her work. Neither were looking for...
