CROSSED PATHS
1250 Words
The morning sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting gentle golden slashes across the small studio apartment. It wasn’t much—a narrow bed, a cracked sink, and a tiny kitchenette that smelled like yesterday’s coffee. But for Nargis, it was freedom. And freedom, no matter how small, was priceless.
Two days had passed since she arrived in Rome. Two long, restless days.
Her wedding dress, wrinkled and untouched, still lay in a heap inside her travel bag. She hadn’t had the heart to look at it. Or to throw it away. Not yet.
The bells of a nearby church chimed faintly as she rolled out of bed. She pulled on a soft lavender maxi dress with bell sleeves, modest but stylish, the fabric clinging gently to her curves before flowing at the ankles. A light chiffon scarf framed her face, and her dark hair, streaked with electric blue, spilled in waves over her shoulders.
She stared at her reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink. The mehndi on her hands had begun to fade, but the memory hadn’t.
She traced a finger over the ghost of his name.
Yusuf.
The scent of espresso drifted through the air. Outside, a neighbor’s café was already bustling, clattering with cups and casual Italian chatter.
A knock shattered the stillness.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Nargis jumped.
“Signorina Khan!” a sharp voice snapped through the door.
The landlady.
Nargis swung the door open slowly. An older woman stood there with a floral scarf tied tightly around her curls and judgment carved deep into her wrinkles.
“You were supposed to pay yesterday,” the landlady barked in broken English.
“I couldn’t find my credit card,” Nargis replied, calm but polite. “I haven’t unpacked everything yet. I’ll walk it off. I promise you, I’ll pay.”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “You Nigerians always say wait, wait. No plan. Just drama.”
The words hit like spit. But Nargis didn’t flinch.
“I came here with a plan,” she said, voice cold. “It just didn’t include surviving hell before landing.”
The landlady blinked, taken aback. Then, with a scoff and muttered Italian insults, she turned and stormed off.
Nargis closed the door, exhaling slowly. Her chest tightened—not from fear, but from the weight of being constantly underestimated.
She sighed. “I really need to find that card.”
Back inside, she unzipped her last luggage bag and carefully unfolded her clothes. Tucked deep inside a rolled-up blouse, she found her platinum black credit card, untouched. She held it in her hand, heart steady. Alongside it were her mother’s jewelry pouch, her father’s insurance documents, and letters granting her access to properties and trust funds.
She had money. She had everything. But she didn’t want to be that girl anymore.
“I just want to feel what it means to survive,” she murmured. “To live without relying on the past.”
She wrapped a cream-colored trench coat over her dress, slipped into simple nude flats, and stepped out.
Rome was alive. It buzzed around her as she walked down cobblestone streets, passing sun-warmed shops and flowering balconies. As she neared the open window of a bookstore, a title caught her eye:
"Burn Twice to Be Reborn."
She stopped. It felt like it was written for her.
As she reached out to touch the glass—
A presence.
Someone passed too close, brushing her shoulder. Her breath caught.
The chill was instant—deep, electric. Her heart slammed.
He didn’t even look at her.
She turned, stunned. “Hey, mister! You notched me—you should apologize!”
But the man in the leather jacket just kept walking, slow and unfazed, like a ghost with steel in his bones.
She stood frozen. “What... what was that?”
Her body buzzed.
“I’ve never felt this before,” she whispered. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to mess with it.”
Before she could move on, a voice called from behind.
“You okay?”
She turned. A tall guy with soft features, dark curls, and kind eyes approached her, carrying a thick literature book. He looked like he belonged in every campus storybook.
“I saw that guy bump into you,” he said. “Some people have no sense.”
“I’m okay. Just caught me off guard.”
“I’m Tej. First-year Lit student.”
“Nargis. Medicine. Cardiology department.”
“Cool. You seem… strong.”
“I try,” she smiled faintly.
“Mind if I walk with you?”
She nodded slowly. “Sure.”
As they strolled toward the university gates, the conversation eased. He was charming, respectful, and asked about her favorite heart surgeons and research projects. For once, it felt normal.
At the entrance, two girls sat beneath a tree sketching portraits. They glanced up.
“She’s beautiful,” Mei whispered.
“Yeah. I heard she’s Nigerian-Indian,” Xia added. “And she’s roommates with no one. Mysterious.”
Shina, walking past with her group of friends, noticed the attention Nargis was getting.
“She thinks she’s better than us,” Shina muttered, bumping her shoulder into Nargis as she passed. “Stay in your lane.”
Nargis stumbled but caught her footing.
She didn’t speak.
Instead, she gently pushed Shina aside, picked up the book Shina had dropped during the shove, and placed it back into her arms.
“Your book,” she said, cool and clear. “Hold on to it next time.”
She turned and walked away with Tej and her soft glow of confidence.
The next day in the lab, Nargis noticed Mei and Xia again, this time in lab coats, gathering around the heart model display. She hesitated before approaching, but Mei waved her over.
“You’re the girl with the blue streaks,” Mei said brightly. “Wanna join our study group?”
“Please do,” Xia added. “You looked like you knew your way around the ventricles.”
Nargis chuckled. “Thanks. I’d love to.”
They spent the next hour studying heart valves and murmurs, throwing in occasional jokes. When Nargis made a sharp comment about the arrogant anatomy professor’s terrible handwriting, they all burst into laughter.
“I swear he’s writing in ancient Roman code,” Xia joked.
Nargis relaxed into the moment, feeling safe. Connected.
Later that evening, Tej offered to carry her books across campus. “You always carry this much weight on your back?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“I’m used to carrying more than just books,” she said with a wink.
He laughed. “That was deep. Mind if I write that down?”
She didn’t answer, but the smile she gave was warmer than anything she’d offered in days.
By the end of the week, she, Mei, and Xia were inseparable in the lab. They had inside jokes about professors, shared lunch spots, and even a joint Pinterest board for heart anatomy memes.
She’d never had this before. Friendship without expectation. Without judgment.
That night, back in her room, Nargis sat by the window again, her scarf off and hair loose. She smiled to herself.
She had found her card.
She had met a kind stranger.
She had made a quiet statement.
She had made two friends.
Somewhere across the city, the man in the leather jacket paused.
Nargis Khan.
His lips curled slightly.
"Soon."
- Writer
