SNEAK PEEK -
He shut his phone and got up, frustration bubbling to the surface. Walking over to where she was kneeling on the floor, stuffing clothes into her bag, he crouched down in front of her. For a moment, he just sat there, silently willing her to look at him. But she didn’t.
Finally, he reached out and grabbed her hands, gently but firmly stopping her frantic movements. Her hands froze in his, but her eyes stayed fixed on the half-packed bag.
“Meri taraf dekho,” he pleaded.
(Look at me)
Reluctantly, Aisha lifted her tear-filled honey-brown eyes to meet his. Omar was startled by the sight of her tears, guilt twisting in his chest.
“I’m really sorry, Aisha,” he murmured, his voice soft. “If I could, I wouldn’t stay back.”
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