FOUND YET FORBIDDEN

2• Blood

Shifa (The Female Lead) — POV

Just as Raza left my cabin, I exhaled slowly and leaned back into my chair, closing my eyes for a brief moment longer than necessary. I can feel veins throbbing on the side of my head.

I hadn’t expected him to return.

And I certainly hadn’t expected that.

A day before yesterday..A couple knocked on my door.

For a moment, I had genuinely thought they were at the wrong address.

It has been so long since my mother and I have had visitors. Nobody in our colony talks to us.

I invited them in and served them tea. After a formal discussion including their introduction, they asked for my hand in marriage.

I didn’t respond. I was stunned by the suddenness of it.

I was genuinely not offended until they mentioned Raza's name.

God damn it.

I swear, for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

That Raza.. My student?

I had managed to maintain composure that day. I listened. I nodded. I said I needed time. That I would think about it.. Except I'll not.

The last absurd thing I would hope to happen in my life would be marrying my student.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of my cabin, the familiar cracks grounding me. I had spent years mastering equations, yet thia human irrationality was far more complex.

He hadn’t pleaded.

He hadn’t tried to impress me.

He hadn’t even tried to convince me.

He had simply stated his intention and accepted whatever consequence followed.

That unsettled me more than arrogance ever could.

Idiot.

I stood up and walked to the window, watching students pass by below.

I had built my life on structure, discipline, and distance. Feelings were optional; focus was not.

I'm currently not planning to marry anyone.

And if I had to marry someday, Raza was not even on the list (the list doesn't exist)

It is absurd.

My phone rang pulling me out of my thoughts.

Hayaam.

I picked it up and before even sparing me a chance to speak, she blabbered

“I know you have a free lecture. Come to the canteen before I drag you myself.”

and then disconnected the call.

A smile made its way on my lips. Hayaam had that effect, something like chaos disguised as companionship.

Locking my cabin, I head towards the canteen.

The canteen was louder as usual. Hayaam was already there, one leg crossed over the other, stirring her tea, lost in thoughts.

She looked up as I pulled a chair for myself and grinned.

Sometimes I wonder how effortlessly calm, happy and cute she is. 33. Twice divorced. Once widowed. A single mother. And still undeniably alive.

She didn't let the world take her smile away no matter what the circumstances were. And that's what I adore the most.

“You’re late,” she said, scanning me head to toe.

“I was grading some papers” I said, to which she replied with a scoff “Still pretending you’re married to your subject?”

“I came,” I replied, sitting down. “That should count for something.”

She rolled her eyes then shrugged it off. “You know,” she said, leaning back, “I’m thinking of dating again.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Not because I need a man,” she added quickly. “I’m stable. I pay my bills. I raise my son. I just.. want one. Out of choice, not liability.”

I nodded. I understood that language far too well. “Do you have someone in line?”

“Well yeah.. Kind off. I mean he is divorced too.. apparently his wife cheated on him I guess.” She said.

I nodded once again, “What does he do for a living?” I asked

“Umm..He actually–” to my utter surprise, she paused nervously.. Hayaam and hesitation are two different things, and the way she was hesitating right now I already knew something wasn't “right” , right.

I raised an eyebrow.. confused and concerned. She gulped down and practically forced the words out “Dr. Hamza — the psychology professor.”

Now I knew why she was hesitating. Dr. Hamza was in his early forties — 41 or 42 to be more accurate — which is not the concerning point.. what's concerning is that he was once “accused” of assaulting his wife… Though all those claims were denied by him, the court acquitted him with honor but there's still something unsettling about him.. I just can't put my finger on what is *unsettling* specifically.

“I personally do not approve of him for you Hayaam… How did you come up with him.” She smiled at my concern and held my hands “I don't know Shifa.. I used to think wrong of him too… Until I myself witnessed his wife's toxicity.” She inhaled sharply “She was insane.. Literally insane. I saw it myself.. She's in a mental asylum now.. I mean you know–” She finished.

I can feel her palms getting sweaty. I smiled, still concerned.. If she's happy, who am I to stop her from doing what makes her happy?

Still I planned to run a background check on him.

“Also he asked me out and I'm still thinking about it … I've run down a whole background check on him and I swear there wasn't anything concerning.” She assured..

“He might've gotten infatuated maybe?” That was literally the lamest excuse one can come up with. One way or another I just don't want her to end up with him..To be very honest she deserves better.

Hayaam rolled her eyes so hard I was afraid they might fall off. “For the love of God, Shifa..He is an adult, 41 to be specific, not any hormonal teenager..”

“Men will be men, 14 or 41” Only if the human eye had a capacity to throw laser beams, I might have several holes in my body right now.. that's hard she's glaring at me.

She turned her head with an angry scoff (Naraazgi) ..I smiled.. “I really want you to have all the happiness in the world Hayaam. you deserve every bit of it. Just let me know if he does something to piss you off.. I'll break his nose I promise.” She laughed and patted the back of my hand.

A moment later I felt her studying me, the way only a friend can…uncomfortably accurate. “You should find someone too.”

I didn’t answer immediately, just took a sip of my coffee trying to suppress the bitterness that a mere sentence caused inside my whole body.

“You’ve been alone long enough, Shifa,” she said gently. “You’re divorced, not expired.”

My mind betrayed me. For just a second.

Raza.

The name flashed across my mind. I pushed the thought away as easily as it had appeared. “No one would want this,” I said, gesturing vaguely at my life. “My mother is physically disabled. She cannot even speak and as she's my first priority, half my time belongs to her. Not every man can cope with that.. They would want a “family” for themselves too. And I cannot afford it right now. I have responsibilities already.”

Hayaam’s voice softened. “The right one won’t see it as a burden.”

“The right one is a myth,” I replied. “And I’m tired of explaining myself.”

She didn’t argue. She rarely did when she knew I had already decided something for survival.

“So you are agreeing with me on giving a chance to Hamza?” she teased.

“I'm afraid, Not” I spat.

We talked about lighter things after that students, departmental politics, her son’s obsession with toy trains.

We walked back together, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus.

As we reached the department building, Hayaam’s phone rang. She stepped aside, distracted.

That was when I heard my name.

“Dr. Shifa.”

I turned around.

Raza was running toward me, breathless, urgency written across his face and a stack of papers in his arms. He slowed as he reached me, stopping at a respectable distance.

He forwarded me the notes and I remembered I asked for them in class. Obviously he won't discuss our personal equation in the middle of campus.

But before I could reach for it,

Before either of us could speak,

Something fell between us.

A heavy thud..

And for a brief moment it felt like the air paused.

I can see the horrified expressions on Raza's face. And some splashed red on his white T shirt.

I can feel something sticky, wet and hot on my feet.

Students screamed. Someone dropped their bag. The air shifted, thick and unbearable. I looked down to understand the weight of what had just happened.

A student.

In the pool of her own blood.

Now dead.

Jumped from the 5th floor.

My face turned pale.

Raza moved instinctively, stepping in front of me, blocking my view without touching me. I felt the ground sway, or maybe it was just my body registering shock too late.. I looked up. His face was drained of every color.. expressions mirroring mine.

“Move,” he whispered. But I felt my feet rooted in my place.

Raza dragged me towards Hayaam who was standing a few feet away — equally stunned and horrified — handed me to her.

Looking at her lifeless body I realized, Life does not wait for certainty. And neither did fate..

I could hear Raza whispering “Get her cleaned up, Ma'am.” and that was the last thing I heard before blacking out.

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