It was nearly 11 a.m. on Friday, and the room was already half full.
Mugs in hand. Laptops open. The kind of low murmur that always hung in the air before a full-staff meeting. The analysts looked alert. Emir was already at the end of the table, reviewing something I'd emailed him an hour ago. I stood near the screen, tapping through the opening slide deck. Clean. Structured. Ready.
Then Ayub walked in.
Five minutes early.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwrZV7W3jJ3
Confident. Not cocky. But lighter—like someone who thought a smile over coffee meant something more than it did.
And he'd dressed like it, too.
Charcoal suit. New, or newly tailored—finally sitting right on his shoulders. Crisp white shirt, top button done. Navy tie, the right width, clean knot. Polished oxfords. Matching leather watch strap. Not flashy. Not loud.
Intentional.
I knew what it looked like when a man dressed for power.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4j4NZGpvbg
And I knew what it looked like when a man dressed for me.
He caught my eye as he took his seat near the front. Held it for a beat longer than necessary. There was the hint of a smile there—quiet. Almost sure.
Like we were good.
I didn't return it.
Not because I was holding onto the café.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb8qB34ZICH
I hadn’t walked away from that table with anything I didn’t mean to leave behind.
But because my phone had buzzed two minutes earlier with an email from my father.
Subject line: Kovač timeline revision.
The body was short. Direct.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcOJjyQfidQ
"Inconsistent communication with clients is unacceptable. I expect better from your team—and from you. Leadership is an amanah. Treat it like one."
He'd attached an email Ayub sent.
I read it twice. Jaw tightening with every line.
Ayub had softened my numbers. Adjusted the Q2 delivery timeline. Framed it as a slight extension—measured, diplomatic.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjsHIYX5IgR
But he hadn't run it by me.
No clearance.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcr5CMZErwD
No discussion.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq3siDc4iyv
Just initiative dressed as insubordination.
He thought he was helping.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQxVeNPvGNJ
He thought he was showing leadership.
What he did was make me look inconsistent.
It wasn't just a mistake.
It was a misstep.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeuG9yaMKAf
And now it was mine to clean up.
My father didn’t care who sent the email. Only that it came from my team.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUmfgmU91Sr
Which meant it came from me.
Emir leaned in slightly. "Everything alright?"
I didn't answer.
Ayub must've sensed something, because when I glanced up, he was watching me—brows slightly drawn, eyes searching. The faintest shift in his expression, like he was about to ask.
What's wrong?
I didn't give him the chance.
I looked straight past him, back to the screen.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHU37MaKFzY
No acknowledgement. No signal.
Nothing.
He sat back.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzM4YWTBif5
Didn't ask again.
Good.
Because I didn't trust myself to answer without burning it all down.
I let the room settle. Let the conversations drop. Let the click of mugs and shuffle of chairs give way to stillness.
Then I stood.
"Let's get started."
I moved through the updates like usual—quick, direct, unbothered. A few minor redirections. Emir filled in where needed. The team was alert. Focused. Efficient.
And Ayub?
He was polished. Sharp suit, clean lines, perfect posture. His shirt collar was smooth, his tie properly set, and his responses clipped and precise. He spoke when prompted—measured, intelligent, completely in control.
And underneath all that—
Broad shoulders. Solid frame. The kind of strength you didn’t need to show off to feel.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzLckFfzQZE
A neatly trimmed beard. Strong jaw. Quiet confidence.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnaHIkbh4n7
Composure carved into muscle and silence.
He looked good.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnJMifUtCbx
Too good.
And that—that was what made it worse.
Because if I hadn't opened that email this morning, I might've looked at him and thought he was exactly where he belonged. Like he'd earned the seat. The respect. The authority.
But I had opened it.
And all I saw now was a man who looked like a solution—while quietly becoming a problem.
It didn’t matter how good he looked in a room.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqe6GScEWHF
Not if he couldn’t hold it together when it counted.
When we reached the implementation forecast, I paused.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVdn2zrnD4j
Clicked the next slide.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgb86H7T3UA
Turned my attention directly to him.
I took a breath. Not to steady myself.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLdSB7aAr77
To cut clean.
"Selimović."
He straightened. "Yes?"
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.
"Did you revise the Q2 target delivery timeline in your follow-up to Kovač?"
The room stilled. Every movement halted like someone had hit mute.
Ayub hesitated. Just barely.
"Yes. I gave them an extra week. Based on the supplier report we got Thursday morning, I thought—"
"Did you clear that with me?"
His jaw tensed. "No. But I thought it was minor enough not to disrupt the projection. The client seemed—"
"But it disrupted my promise to the client."
I stepped forward. Calm. Controlled.
"I don't care if you thought it was minor. I don't care if you thought it made you look smart or measured or diplomatic. What you did was undermine alignment, and make me look like I padded numbers I don't pad. Not ever."
He opened his mouth again—small, hesitant. "I was trying to protect delivery margins. I didn't think it would reflect—"
"You didn't think," I cut in. "That's the problem."
Silence.
And this time, he didn't try again.
The team was silent.
"I put my name on those targets," I said. "And you walked them back without consulting me. If you're going to dilute my delivery, do it in front of me. Not after I've stepped out of the room."
Ayub's jaw flexed.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG8Qh2azxB3
He didn't argue. Didn't offer another word.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoS5Vm1ielM
But I saw it—the flicker of something under the surface.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6wmX975nJj
Pride. Frustration. Maybe even anger.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKXVwzDdttf
He swallowed it down.
He nodded once.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡonQbWsbJqz
Tight. Controlled.
It was all he could do.
You’re supposed to correct in private. Preserve someone’s dignity.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrrirEgZpYF
But leadership wasn’t always about what you’re supposed to do.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy1W7POMlTn
Sometimes it was about what the room needed.
I let the moment hang.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGcKnevL0mj
Let it sting.
Then I turned away and kept going.
"Emir, pull the original projection into the deck. We'll circulate a revised brief by end of day."
"Got it," Emir said.
Ayub said nothing.
He stayed in his seat—shoulders tight, jaw locked.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8uXCXp8FJi
Not pale. Not shaken.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLEJjdtaaDm
Just boiling beneath the surface.
He didn't fidget. Didn't flinch.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmEYsVCwILX
But there was something in the way he stared at the table like it owed him an apology.
I saw it.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5NBK0BCwD0
I didn't let it sway me.
The rest of the meeting passed in silence. No one joked. No one lingered. By the time we adjourned, the room emptied faster than usual.
I closed my laptop. Stood.
He was still sitting.
Waiting.
I didn’t look at him, but I felt it—the weight of him wanting to speak. The tension radiating off him like heat.
“A word?” he asked, voice low.
I didn’t stop moving.
“Not right now.”
Flat. Sharp.
He didn’t move.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiQDXPieBrK
Not right away.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡplSe7yT6hu
Like he thought maybe I’d change my mind.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvNlZ1cZWwA
I didn’t.
I didn’t give him anything else..
Not until I heard the door open behind us.
“Th-there she is,” Talha said, all ease and grin. “R-ready for l-lunch?”
My shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“Give me two minutes,” I said, already grabbing my phone.
Talha looked tired—like the kind of tired that sleep didn’t fix.
He was in dark jeans and a black T-shirt. The jeans were expensive. Structured. Designer cut. The kind I’d bought him two months ago after telling him if he showed up to one more family dinner in sweats, I was going to set them on fire.
And now he was wearing them to load trucks.
There was dust on one leg, a grease smudge near the pocket. His T-shirt clung to his shoulders, stretched slightly at the collar. Boots scuffed from the dock. Every part of him looked like he’d just come off shift.
And still—somehow—it worked on him.
I crossed my arms. “Are you serious?”
He blinked. “W-what?”
“Those are not dock jeans.”
“They’re p-pants, aren’t th-they?”
I exhaled through my nose. “You’re unbelievable.”
Still, I reached out and dusted off his shoulder—cardboard grit clinging to the black cotton.
He didn’t move. Just let me do it, like he always had.
"N-nice tie," he added, teasing. "Y-you let h-him live?"
"Barely," I muttered.
But I hated how quickly Ayub looked away when he did.
Ayub stood slowly. Not a sound, not a word. Just gathered his things with careful precision.
As he reached the door, Talha looked at him—really looked.
"Y-you g-good?" he asked, low.
Ayub didn't look at either of us.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvhBEqhXsYj
"Not the time," he said. Voice tight. Flat.
Talha didn't push.
Ayub walked out.
I watched him go.
Talha watched me.
"Th-that bad, huh?"
I shrugged.
“C-come on,” he said, holding the door open with his shoulder. “I’m st-starving.”
I grabbed my bag, adjusted the strap, smoothed the edge of my blazer like it hadn't wrinkled.
"Let's go."
We stepped into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind us.
And I didn't look back.
But part of me wanted to.
Not to apologize.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmOkJRiXySt
Not to explain.
Just to see if he was still standing where I left him.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3XyosYhH4K
And if the fire I lit was still burning behind his eyes.
Ibtigha’a wajh Allah.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡME1xYO4KPL
Striving for Allah’s approval.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx68YscTmx6
That’s what it’s supposed to be.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡi7sOtWIpA7
Not anger. Not ego.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNUUBd9sL1S
Not the burn still sitting in my chest.
And definitely not the part of me that wanted him to hurt.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAJX0HsEK9D
Just enough to remember where we stand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lamija is calm.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbq9tKpw42B
Lamija is composed.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMIFzQkAvcV
Lamija absolutely did not torch a man’s soul in front of a full staff meeting because he made her look inconsistent on a Friday.
This chapter was brought to you by:21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAyVXT2Qvwc
✔ Public professionalism21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXtjTOtTUvB
✔ Private rage21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmJ002dLNbz
✔ And a leadership style somewhere between sabr and scorched earth
Ayub showed up dressed for war.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE7ZOPqpIVL
Unfortunately for him, so did Lamija.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNUl6dm23RM
And Talha? He showed up for lunch and accidentally walked into the fallout.
Thanks for reading.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡolP79QAzmH
Please make du’a for Ayub.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFKm6ZONwFV
He’s still standing—but just barely.
21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmlFktT9B6O
and then Add to home screen.