The room had stilled.
For a moment, everything else, the ticking clock, the gentle breeze fluttering the curtain, everything, faded into silence.
Hadi’s eyes remained locked on the woman standing across the room. His breath hitched in his chest.
It was her.
Maira.
Shock tore through him like a sudden gust of cold wind. It felt like the ground had slipped beneath his feet.
Maira's expression mirrored his, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, but she quickly recovered, straightening her posture. Her throat tightened with panic. Of all people… Of all places...
She had not expected this.
Not him.
Ya Allah… she whispered internally, forcing her fingers to stop trembling.
But she didn’t break eye contact. She couldn’t. Not with the way Hadi was staring at her, as if trying to determine if she was really there.
Lubna, completely unaware of the silent chaos unfolding between the two, stepped forward with a warm smile.
"Meet my Husband, Hadi Ansari"
Maira felt a knot form in her chest, she knew him, she didn't need his introduction as someone else's husband, but she couldn't say anything, she just blinked then smiled politely.
“And Hadi, this is Maira. She’s the nanny I told you about.”
Hadi blinked, forced his chest to rise and fall evenly.
Control. He needed control.
He swallowed the tightness in his throat and shifted his gaze to Lubna with a faint, polite nod.
“Assalamualaikum,” he said finally, his voice slightly rough but composed.
(Peace be upon you.)
“Walaikum assalam,” Maira replied softly, keeping her tone neutral, her heart thudding in her ears.
(And peace be upon you too.)
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Maira looked down briefly, breaking the spell. She could feel his eyes on her, trying to read her thoughts, trying to make sense of what she was doing here. But she couldn’t afford to explain. Not now. Not in front of Lubna.
So she stood still, composed. A woman simply looking for a job.
“Do you live nearby?” Lubna asked casually.
Maira shook her head gently. “Yeah I do.”
“That’s great,” Lubna said, smiling. “Hadi and I are both full-time, so Zohan will need someone who can keep up with him. He’s very active, as you can imagine.”
Maira smiled faintly. “Yes, I understand.”
Hadi finally found his voice again.
“How did you meet her?” he asked, turning to Lubna, who had seated herself on the couch, his gaze deliberately avoiding Maira now. That small shift in attention made her exhale softly, relieved, but not for long.
His tone was calm, almost casual, but Maira knew better. He was trying hard. Too hard. As if detachment could make the moment less absurd.
Lubna smiled and patted the seat beside her.
“Oh that’s a long story, come, sit, I’ll tell you…”
She gestured toward the adjacent chair for Maira, who hesitated only slightly before obeying. Then, taking Hadi’s arm, she tugged him down next to her on the couch. Their shoulders brushed, he made no attempt to move.
Why would he?
He was her husband.
Maira looked away, feeling like an intruder. A ghost from a past neither of them had invited into this room.
---
Flashback: The Evening Before
The sun had just started dipping when Hadi called Lubna.
“Can you take Zohan out to the garden today?” he asked. “I have a late meeting. I know I was supposed to take him, but…”
Lubna was already heading home. “Of course. I’ll take him,” she said, not thinking much of it.
When she arrived, Wahida was seated on the living room couch, showing something to Zohan on a toy tablet. She greeted them both. Wahida stood quickly, gathering her things, it was almost time for Hadi’s father to return, and she needed to be home.
Lubna waved her goodbye and headed to her room to freshen up. She asked one of the staff to get Zohan ready for the garden.
Not long after, mother and son were strolling through the park, Zohan bouncing lightly in his stroller. Lubna scrolled through her phone absentmindedly while pushing it around, switching between work emails and messages.
After fifteen minutes of slow walking, she felt tired. She parked the stroller beside a bench and sat down with a sigh, her phone ringing just as she settled.
It was a business call.
As she answered, a small kitten had crept near the stroller. Zohan's eyes lit up. He clapped, giggled, and reached out with tiny fingers full of wonder.
In his attempt to touch the kitten, he leaned forward too far, teetering on the edge.
And then, he slipped.
But before he could fall, a woman rushed forward and caught him mid-air.
Zohan burst into loud sobs from the fright.
Lubna’s heart dropped as she turned toward the commotion. Her voice came out sharp and panicked.
“What are you doing!?” she yelled, hurrying over and snatching Zohan away.
The woman, young, startled, graceful, raised her hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry! He was falling. I just caught him.”
Lubna blinked, her pulse slowing. The situation caught up with her. Embarrassment flushed her face.
“I....thank you. I’m sorry I snapped.”
The woman gave a small shrug. “It’s okay.”
But Zohan was wailing now. Lubna rocked him gently, pressing his head to her shoulder.
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay…”
Her phone rang again. She groaned inwardly. Zohan wouldn’t settle. She rocked harder, her hand patting his back.
“Just five minutes,” she muttered, picking up the phone, then glanced at the woman, who stood watching.
“Would you…?” Lubna asked, already halfway holding Zohan out. “Just for a bit?”
The woman hesitated, then nodded and took the child gently.
Lubna turned around and took her call, pacing slightly. She needed to finish this.
When she returned ten minutes later, what she saw made her stop in her tracks.
Zohan was in the woman’s arms, laughing.
Actual laughter.
The stranger was making funny faces and babbling nonsense with such ease, Zohan had completely forgotten his tears.
Lubna blinked.
It was rare for Zohan to calm down like this. Usually, only Hadi’s presence could soothe him. And yet, here he was, giggling, reaching for the woman’s nose, tugging playfully at her dupatta.
Lubna smiled, deeply surprised.
“Thank you,” she said as she stepped closer.
“My pleasure,” the woman replied, her tone warm as she handed the little boy back to his mother.
“You’re really good with kids,” Lubna said thoughtfully. “He seems to like you.”
“Yeah… I love kids,” the woman said with a small, distant smile. “They’re… adorable.”
“I’m Lubna, by the way,” she said, extending a hand.
“I’m Maira,” the woman replied, shaking it.
Yes. It was her.
Maira had been sitting alone on a nearby bench, lost in thought. She had just walked out of an interview a few hours ago, the one that left her shaken and disgusted, an older man, with eyes that lingered too long and words that sounded polite but felt wrong.
When she saw the baby boy leaning toward the kitten, she stood up instinctively.
Her legs had moved before her mind could.
“If I’m not wrong, you look upset,” Lubna said, watching her closely.
Before Maira could reply, Zohan leaned again toward her, arms out.
Lubna laughed. “He definitely likes you.”
Maira smiled. “I like him too. And his eyes are beautiful.”
Something about them tugged at her heart, eyes like someone she had tried not to think about.
“I had an interview. Got… rejected.” Maira said quietly, omitting the worst part.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lubna said sincerely. “You’ll find something better.”
“I don’t think I’m meant for the corporate world. I’d rather be around cute kids like him,” Maira said, half-joking.
But Lubna paused, intrigued.
“Really? Because… we’ve been looking for a nanny for Zohan. My husband hasn’t liked any of the previous ones, but I think… you might be perfect.”
Maira’s eyes widened. “Me? I don’t know…”
“Why not?” Lubna smiled. “You’re a natural. Just come over tomorrow, meet my husband, and we’ll see how it goes.”
After a beat of silence, Maira nodded.
“Okay. If you insist.”
They exchanged numbers. Maira bent down and blew Zohan a kiss.
And they parted ways, completely unaware of what tomorrow held.
Flashback ends.
---
Hadi heard everything without interrupting, sitting still, his posture calm but his jaw tight. As Lubna finished recounting the unexpected meeting, his gaze finally shifted, drifting from his wife and landing softly on Maira.
She wasn’t looking back.
Maira’s eyes were glued to the carpet, as if its intricate patterns were a story she was deeply engrossed in. Her fingers trembled slightly as they twisted and untwisted the edge of her dupatta. Her whole demeanor was an attempt at invisibility, as if she could disappear if she remained quiet enough, still enough.
Hadi watched her for a beat longer than necessary. He knew the apartment he had let Maira stay in, bare, modest, tucked away like a secret, was barely five minutes from their bungalow. He was well aware of the garden that sat like a neutral zone between the two places. But never, not even in the wildest stretch of his imagination, had he expected that Lubna and Maira would cross paths there, of all places. And so casually.
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
What was she doing there?
What was she thinking?
Was this recklessness? Naivety? Or something else entirely?
Rage churned silently in his gut. He couldn’t decide if he was more furious at the coincidence, or the chaos it had stirred in his carefully maintained dual existence. Maira, who he had decided to protect, to keep hidden, to shelter from the world and, especially, from Lubna, until she headed had unknowingly walked right into the heart of everything he was trying to keep apart.
Worse yet, she hadn't told him a thing.
She had left the apartment, without informing him. Wandered out. Risked everything. Why? Did she not understand what he was hiding? And why he was doing it? His mind spiraled. If he had known, he would have told her to return immediately. He would have made sure they never crossed paths. But now? She was here. In his house. In the presence of his wife.
And she had the audacity to stay seated. Still. Quiet. Fidgeting, yes, but not apologizing. Not explaining.
His nostrils flared. This was the first time he felt extremely angry at Maira.
But he couldn't afford to explode. Not now. Lubna was watching. He couldn’t let her see the storm brewing within him.
So, instead, he inhaled sharply, controlled, quiet, and stood from the couch with deliberate calm. He reached for Lubna’s hand, his fingers warm as they wrapped around hers.
“Excuse us,” he said, his voice unusually steady.
Lubna looked up at him, surprised but not alarmed, and let him guide her away.
He led her down the hallway, past the staircase, and into the small side guest room. Once inside, he closed the door with a soft click behind them. Maira watched them disappear, her heart sinking a little lower into the pit of her stomach.
She didn’t need to see his face to know he was furious.
She could feel it.
But still… she hadn’t done it on purpose. She hadn’t known. How could she have? All she had known was the name, Lubna. And that too, only in passing. A name wasn’t enough. There were countless women named Lubna. She had no way of knowing that the woman at the park, the warm and kind stranger who had trusted her with her son, was his wife.
Maira closed her eyes briefly and let out a sigh.
She had been shocked too, when realization dawned upon her, when she stood in the living room as they entered hand in hand. How was she supposed to know it was going to be his house.
And what was she even supposed to do then? Run? Confess?
No. That would have raised questions she wasn’t ready to answer.
So she had remained silent. Let the coincidence unfold. Let it take its course.
Her fingers reached for her temple, and she gave herself a gentle smack.
Of course. The eyes.
Zohan’s eyes. The baby boy's beautiful, expressive eyes had tugged at her heart when she saw him. So familiar. So eerily familiar. And now it all made sense, why his eyes had reminded her of Hadi. Because they were his.
Of course they were.
Her stomach twisted in knots.
She had unknowingly held Hadi’s son in her arms. Had comforted him. Made him laugh. And somehow, in that moment, it hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt natural. Her heart had responded before her brain could process the absurdity.
Now, alone in the silence of the living room, Maira sat waiting for Hadi and Lubna to return. Waiting for the consequences to unfold. For truths to simmer or boil over.
The storm hadn’t passed. It had just moved behind a door.
And she was left outside, bracing for what would come next.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQaAFPOYDKH
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