My shy Wife, Neisha

“Good morning Mum.” Neisha’s voice was soft, almost shy, as she stepped out of her room. The house was quiet, the early morning light barely creeping through the windows. Her mother turned slowly from the kitchen, surprise flashing across her face. “oh Neisha, good morning, my dear child.” She paused, then frowned lightly. “Why are you dressed already?” Neisha looked down at her gown and adjusted the strap of her bag. “I woke up early.” Her mother wiped her hands on a towel and walked closer, studying her carefully. “You woke up early… and you’re dressed like this?” She raised an eyebrow. “Something is happening.” Neisha smiled nervously. “Yes, Mum.” Her mother’s expression softened. “Is it today?” Neisha nodded. “The interview.” “Oh,” her mum breathed, placing a hand on her chest. “That explains everything.” Now, before we go any further, you need to know who Neisha Hazim is. Neisha is the first daughter of Galel and Sir Hazim. She is quiet. Gentle. The kind of girl who prefers listening to speaking. People often mistake her silence for weakness. They call her timid. Too reserved. Too shy. But they are wrong. Neisha is not weak. She is simply soft. And soft people feel things deeply. My name is Adil Jafar. I am the eldest son of Musharraf and Nasal Jafar. Vice president of the Jafar Group of Companies. Engineer. Future CEO. I live a life filled with meetings, boardrooms, contracts, and power. But the truth is, none of that compares to the way my heart reacts whenever Neisha Hazim smiles. She doesn’t know it yet. But I have been watching her for a long time. Neisha grew up in a disciplined home. Her mother is a teacher, strict but loving. Her father is a civil servant, calm, firm, and respected. Rules mattered in their house. Respect came first. Voices were kept low. Mistakes were corrected gently but firmly. Then there is Azra. Azra, the second daughter, is fire where Neisha is calm water. Loud, expressive, playful. She laughs without fear, speaks her mind, and shows every emotion openly. Neisha keeps hers tucked away, hidden behind the soft smile she wears everywhere. “Mum,” Neisha said quietly, breaking the silence. “Do I look okay?” Her mother smiled and adjusted Neisha’s hijab herself. “You look beautiful.” Neisha’s eyes watered. “Thank you.” Her father walked into the living room then. “You’re leaving early.” “Yes, Dad.” He nodded approvingly. “Good.” Her mother turned serious. “Come. Kneel.” Neisha didn’t question it. She knelt in front of her parents. Her mother raised her hands, her father joined. “Allah,” her mother prayed softly, “guide her steps today. Calm her heart. Let favor speak for her where words fail.” “Ameen,” Neisha whispered. Her father placed his hand gently on her head. “Do your best. That is enough.” “I will, Dad.” She hugged them both tightly before stepping outside. The morning air was cool against her skin. Neisha walked slowly, her thoughts racing. She turned left at the junction, then continued straight until she reached the bus stop. She sat down and clasped her hands together. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself. “You studied for this.” The bus arrived with a loud hiss. Neisha climbed in, paid her fare, and sat by the window. Her heart beat fast. What if I fail? What if I can’t answer properly? She took a deep breath. When she arrived at the hospital, she stopped for a moment and stared up at the large building. “It’s so big,” she murmured. Inside, the air smelled of disinfectant. People moved quickly, nurses rushed past, patients sat quietly. She approached the front desk. “Excuse me,” she said softly. “The nursing interview?” The receptionist smiled. “Third floor. Room five.” “Thank you.” Outside the interview room, only three people sat waiting. A lady beside her smiled. “You look nervous.” “I am,” Neisha admitted. “You’ll be fine,” the lady said. “First day nerves.” Neisha nodded. One name was called. Then another. Finally— “Neisha Hazim.” Her heart jumped. She stood up slowly and walked in. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Good morning,” the panel replied. “Please, sit.” The questions came steadily. “Why nursing?” “I like helping people,” Neisha said honestly. “Even when it hurts.” “Are you ready for the pressure?” “Yes,” she said, though her hands trembled slightly. “I am.” After a brief silence, one of them smiled. “You’re hired. Resume tomorrow.” Neisha froze. “I… I am?” “Yes.” “Thank you,” she said quickly. “Thank you so much.” She left the room almost floating. At home, she rushed in, smiling—then stopped. The house was empty. “Oh,” she sighed softly. “They’re at work.” She changed her clothes and waited. That evening, her mother arrived first. “What’s that smell?” Galel asked. “Dinner,” Neisha replied shyly. They ate quietly, laughter filling the room. After dinner, Neisha cleared her throat. “Mum. Dad. Azra.” “Yes?” Hazim asked. Azra grinned. “Why do you look like that?” “Dad… guess what.” Azra gasped dramatically. “You’re getting married?” “Azra,” Galel warned. “I got the job,” Neisha said softly. “I’m a nurse.” Silence. Then— “My daughter!” Galel exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you.” Hazim smiled. “Congratulations, my dear.” Azra jumped up. “Big sis is officially working!” The next morning, Neisha prepared breakfast and left early. At the hospital, a nurse welcomed her. “This way.” She changed into her uniform, smiling at herself. In the ICU, she saw pain. Fear. Life. A child was rushed in. “Oh no,” Neisha whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, but she stayed strong. “You’re doing well,” another nurse said. Neisha nodded. “Thank you.” It was exhausting. But when a patient smiled and said, “Thank you, nurse,” Neisha felt warmth fill her chest. She smiled back. “This,” she whispered, “is where I belong.” And somewhere else, unseen, unseen eyes watched her. This was only the beginning.