The Vesperine Heart

I woke to the pale gold of dawn spilling through my window. “Mmm…” I stretched my arms above my head, the blanket pooling in my lap as I sat up. The distant melody of birds drifted in from outside, and a soft morning breeze slipped through the curtains, sending my hair across my face. I smiled, gently tucking the strands behind my ears before slipping into my slippers. I padded over to the window and pulled the curtains open. “Oh, f**k…” The words escaped me in a breath. The dawn was breathtaking—soft, golden, almost unreal. I grabbed my camera from the bedside drawer and snapped several photos. Not my fault I’m a nature lover. Scrolling through the pictures, a satisfied smile crept onto my lips. Then I set the camera aside and headed to the shower to start my day—the daily life of a CEO. And not gonna lie, being the CEO and founder of a multi-company empire in a country like France is hella difficult. Hard in ways people don’t see. Thirty minutes later, I stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in joggers and an oversized T-shirt. I performed my morning prayer—because as a Muslim, completing prayers on time is non-negotiable—and then headed out for my morning walk. ***** After an hour of walking, I returned home feeling refreshed. Once I cleaned up, I stepped into my walk-in closet. “Mm… what to wear today?” I muttered, scanning the endless rows of clothes. Honestly, having too many options is its own kind of curse. Eventually, I settled on black high-waisted pants, a black turtleneck, and an oversized grey coat. A black hijab and YSL heels pulled the whole look together. I skipped breakfast, grabbed my keys, and headed to the garage—my Lamborghini humming to life as I drove toward the company. ***** I was deep in a stack of documents when someone barged into my office. I opened my mouth to snap, but the second I saw who it was, I stopped myself. “Girl, at least say that you are Alina before entering,” I said, rolling my eyes. She mimicked me perfectly, making me chuckle. “Why should I announce myself before entering my own best friend’s office? Heartbreaking, really, no?” I shook my head, sighing. “We—” My phone rang, cutting me off. I checked the caller ID and immediately answered. “Yes, Mom?” “How are you, Ms. Busy Businesswoman?” she teased, making me smile nervously. It had been a month since I last called. “Uh… Mom, you know I was busy. I’m fine. How are you all?” Her reply came sharp and mocking. “We’re fine. You didn’t call for a long time. So—what’s your age again? I think I forgot.” I scowled. I knew exactly where this was going. “Don’t start, Mom.” “What’s your age?” she repeated, this time with her serious-but-not-serious tone. I sighed. “Twenty-seven.” “Yes! You’re twenty-seven! When are you planning to get married and give me grandchildren, huh?” “Mommmm!” I whined. “Don’t ‘Mom’ me.” “Why are you scolding me? My cousin—uh, what’s her name… God, I forgot… Oh! Arohi. She’s not married either. She’s twenty-four.” “ANAYA SHEIKH!” she shouted, making me flinch and pull the phone away. “Arohi is also getting married. And you need to come to Bangladesh for her wedding.” I froze. “She’s getting married? Wow… okay, I’ll talk to her.” Not that I wanted to. I hated that girl and her mother—two-faced queens of hypocrisy. They smile in front and stab from behind. And of course, they couldn’t stand seeing me happy. “And listen,” Mom continued, snapping me back. “After her, you’re getting married. Find a man or I will, idiot.” “Fine, fine. We’ll see later. Bye! Mwah!” I hung up quickly before she could launch into Marriage Lecture Part Two. Alina burst into laughter. I shot her a side-eye. “Gosh… stop,” I muttered. “Aunty is so desperate to see her son-in-law and grandchildren,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. I scowled. She held up her hands. “Okay, okay—don’t make that face.” I returned to my documents, but she grabbed my wrist. “Uff, girl! Leave those papers. Let’s go to the café. And we’re going shopping.” I sighed, knowing she wouldn’t stop until I gave in. So I set the documents aside and stood up. Some battles simply aren’t worth fighting.