Under That Scarf (Editing)

3. The Talk

Monday, 5:00am

Harun turns off the alarm and groans into his pillow. Today is going to be a busy day bordering on crazy because he'll be seeing Dr. Brown's patients' as well. The middle aged man is out in Hawaii having the time of his life. Harun wants a vacation more than anything. Ever since he graduated medical school, he felt like he deserved one.

Then again, he chose this field all on his own so he can't exactly blame anyone for the pressure and constant exams- except himself. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and clears his throat. While brushing his teeth, he mentally ticks off the things he needs to do; text Ramla and Hafsah, tell Rashid he can never take my car out again because he can't seem to drive in a straight line but he might just laugh it off and take it anyway, meet with the director at the hospital and finally get a coffee on the way... Harun blinks rapidly at the thought of coffee and the incident yesterday. 

He'd be lying if he said it didn't bother him. Jamila, meaning beauty. Just like her name. He shakes his head, I'm acting like a teenager. The young woman looked the epitome of gentleness and composure beside her funny and erratic mother. Maybe that's why he's drawn to her. She dealt with her mother as calmly as she could despite her bluntness. Harun chuckles at the memory of her flushed and embarrassed face.

He steps into the shower, the water pouring over his sinewy torso. He spends a significant amount of time taking care of his body considering he's stuck in a room for about ten to twelve hours a day. It takes a toll on him but it's also more than that. At the age of 27 he's unmarried and just like any other man, the temptation is all too real so working out serves as a healthy distraction to keep his energy and blood flow relatively stable.

His mother-Ruqaiya- never fails to remind him about how he's not getting any younger and that it's time for him to settle down. "I only want what's best for you. Your sisters are married and have children. Rashid is married and will be moving into his new apartment soon. Only you're left."

"Mom if I leave, who will take care of you?" He'd joke.

"Harun stop with that. You always give me that excuse."

"Because it's true. I don't want to leave you here by yourself." He gestured to the immaculate house they live in. The big house was bought by his father-Omar- who passed away three years ago. Harun had graduated from medical school the night before his father's fatal car accident. It was a hit and run.

The PTSD slammed him like a truckload of trees. The pain was indescribable.

Harun handled the loss poorly. He was constantly angry and temperamental. The smallest things would set him off like; the very mention of his father's name, viewing old photo albums and even conversing in Arabic. Harun only did that with his father and when he passed away, the habit went with him. He'd yell and pick fights with Rashid, accusing him of not caring enough about their father. One night his mother finally broke down in front of him and begged him to see a therapist.

This was a wakeup call.

He swallowed hard at the sight of her so hurt and disappointed. Harun realized how selfish he'd been. He wasn't the only one who lost someone so beloved to him. He lost a father but his mother lost her husband. Her life partner. The love of her life as she once said.

From that day onwards he vowed to never hurt her like that again. He wanted to make it up to her by taking care of her as much as possible. He even saw a therapist and attended exactly 38 sessions to get his rage under control and to deal with the feelings of denial. It was after he recovered that he got a permanent job at the hospital and was able to offer his services with a smile.