I needed to learn from both.
One afternoon, I received another message from Zayd.
“Would you be willing to meet for coffee? Somewhere public. No families, no marriage discussions, and no expectations.”
I considered ignoring him.
But curiosity won.
We met three days later at a quiet café.
When I arrived, he was already there, sitting near a window. He stood when he saw me.
For a moment, neither of us knew what to say.
Then he smiled awkwardly.
“Hello, Layla.”
“Hello, Zayd.”
We sat down.
He didn’t pretend that our previous encounter hadn’t happened, and neither did I.
“I’ve been thinking about that night,” he said.
“So have I.”
“I should have told you my real name.”
“Yes, you should have.”
He nodded.
“I was trying to escape the expectations my family had placed on me. That isn’t an excuse. I should have been honest about who I was.”
