Chapter 7: The Family Dinner Invitation
762 Words
Nour woke up the next morning with Adam’s kiss still burning on her lips. She touched them absentmindedly while making coffee in her tiny kitchen, replaying every second: the way he’d asked permission, the gentleness in his hands, the heat that had built so fast she almost forgot how to breathe.
Sara texted her at 7:32 a.m.:
Sara: So… did billionaire boy stay the night or what? Details NOW.
Nour laughed and typed back:
Nour: No. Just a kiss. A really good kiss. He drove me home and left like a gentleman.
Sara: Gentlemen don’t exist in his tax bracket. He’s playing the long game. Be careful, girl.
Nour didn’t reply. She knew Sara was half-right. But the other half—the part that felt safe with Adam—kept her quiet.
Classes that day were a blur. She took notes in Introduction to Literary Theory, doodled in the margins, and tried not to think about the fact that she was falling for someone who lived in a different universe.
After class, she found Rami waiting outside the lecture hall.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the wall. “You disappeared again.”
Nour smiled—awkward. “Just busy. Scholarship stuff.”
He nodded. “I heard. That’s amazing. Congrats.”
“Thanks.”
Rami looked down at his shoes—paint-stained Converse. “Listen… I know things are different now. But I still care about you. A lot. If you ever need a friend… or more… I’m here.”
Nour felt a pang. Rami was safe. Comfortable. He knew her before the money, before the kisses, before the confusion.
“I know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
He gave her a small smile. “Just… don’t disappear completely, okay?”
She nodded. “I won’t.”
He walked away—shoulders a little slumped.
Nour watched him go, heart twisting.
Adam texted her at lunch:
Adam: Dinner at my sister’s place tomorrow night? She’s dying to meet you.
Nour stared at the message. His sister. Family. This was moving fast.
Nour: I’d love to. What should I bring?
Adam: Just yourself. 7 p.m. I’ll pick you up.
She spent the rest of the day in a nervous spiral. Sara came over again—helped her pick an outfit (simple black pants, cream blouse, light scarf). Did her hair. Gave her a pep talk.
“You’re not going to meet the queen,” Sara said. “Just his sister. Be you. If she doesn’t like you, her loss.”
Nour laughed. “Easy for you to say.”
Adam arrived at 6:55. Black shirt, dark jeans, casual but expensive. He smiled when he saw her.
“You look perfect.”
She blushed. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
The drive to his sister’s apartment was short—downtown, high-rise, doorman who knew him by name.
Layla Khalil opened the door—petite, beautiful, long dark hair, same golden eyes as Adam but with a playful spark.
“You must be Nour,” she said, pulling Nour into a hug before she could react. “I’ve heard so much about you. Come in, come in!”
The apartment was modern but warm—art on the walls, plants everywhere, soft music playing. Dinner was already on the table: homemade mansaf, salad, fresh bread.
Adam’s mother was there too—elegant, silver hair, kind smile. She hugged Nour gently.
“Welcome, dear. We’re so happy you came.”
Dinner was loud and chaotic in the best way. Layla teased Adam mercilessly.
“So, big brother, how did you trick this beautiful girl into going out with you?”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I didn’t trick her. I asked.”
Layla grinned at Nour. “He’s lying. He probably sent a helicopter or something.”
Nour laughed. “No helicopter. Just coffee. And a scholarship.”
Layla’s eyes widened. “The scholarship? Oh my God, Adam, you’re such a show-off.”
Their mother smiled softly. “He’s always been generous. Even when we had nothing.”
Nour looked at Adam. He shrugged—almost shy.
After dinner, Layla pulled Nour aside in the kitchen while Adam and his mother cleared the table.
“He’s different with you,” Layla said quietly. “I’ve never seen him like this. Nervous. Happy. Real.”
Nour blushed. “I’m just… me.”
Layla smiled. “Exactly. That’s why he likes you.”
Back in the living room, Adam found Nour’s hand under the table. Squeezed it.
- Writer
