~~~~
She couldn't stop thinking about Hamza the next day and when it was two p.m and her last lecture of the day was over, she headed in the direction of his office, unable to keep her curiosity at bay any longer. Why had he kissed her? What had he meant by calling her his? She felt like she needed to have all the answers right away.
"Come in," his deep voice sounded from inside when she knocked softly and Jasmine sucked in a startled breath.
What if he became angry with her for coming to see him about something so personal at his place of work? Shivers of excitement and fear ran down her spine as she clutched her books tightly to her chest debating whether to turn back or not. But then the door opened and he was there, staring at her in surprise.
After a moment, Hamza cleared his throat and smiled politely. "Jasmine. Aslamwalekum. Would you like to come inside?"
He stepped back and waited for her and she only hesitated for a second before entering. When he closed the door behind them, Jasmine's heart started pounding insanely. Before she could turn around, he placed his hands on her shoulders and she stiffened. Coming closer until she could feel his body heat, Hamza said her name exactly the way he had said it last night. It was her undoing. She dropped her books before turning to face him and next thing she knew, he was pressing his lips to hers once more.
Hamza groaned when she responded, lifting her up and placing her on his desk. He ran his hands all over her body but he did not touch her skin because she was wearing a long-sleeved cotton tunic paired with black leggings. Her arms went around his shoulders and he kissed her for ages before burying his dark head in the crook of her slender neck, his hands hesitating just below her breasts. She listened to his harsh breathing and felt a stirring of such deep affection in her chest that it brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to say his name more than anything else at that moment but words failed her and she ran her fingers gently through his hair instead.
"I want to touch you here," Hamza whispered, his hands coming up to brush her breasts through the thin cotton. "With my mouth. Can I?"
She was not ready for that kind of intimacy so she shook her head, feeling a little scared. He seemed to understand so he withdrew his hands and kissed her again, very thoroughly. Her response to his kisses was tentative because his tongue seemed to overpower hers most of the time.
Finally, Hamza leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. "You're mine, Jas," he murmured possessively. "Mine, do you hear me?"
She caressed his face which boasted of a stubble and kissed his cheek. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm yours."
What else could she say? He seemed to care for her a lot, had probably been hiding all his feelings for fear that she might reject him. Hamza was a good person who had shown her so much kindness after she'd lost her parents and Jasmine realised she could trust him with her well-being. This man would always keep her safe, always take care of her. She couldn't think of a more beautiful person to belong to.
As the weeks flew by, they saw more and more of each other. Sometimes, he came to her when she was at home and his wife and Zoya had left to go shopping or some place else. But mostly, they met in his office at the university where she spent all her time between classes. It was wrong. She knew it but she could not have stopped it from happening to save her life.
In a way, it was beautiful as well. The world would not understand. They would label their relationship as sordid. But it was not. It was love. And Jasmine glowed because of it. Her life brightened up because of it. She knew what heaven must be like because of it.
****
The Bad
6
At first, everything was perfect. Jasmine felt like the happiest girl in the whole world to have found someone who loved her this way. In their culture, it was acceptable for a man to marry more than one woman and she wished it could be possible for them in future. Although Hamza wasn't too keen on the idea since his father had married a British woman when his mother had still been alive and the unfairness Ahmed Qureshi, the senior, had shown towards his first wife and her offsprings still rankled.
The British wife had given birth to a son and Hamza's father had paid them more attention than was necessary for a man who had other commitments as well. Hamza had only been twelve when his mother had breathed his last in his arms and to this day, he blamed his father for it. Once he'd gotten a job, he'd kicked away his family fortune and taken Zoya out of their mansion to come and live at the university quarters. He'd married Alisha then and never looked back on his former life.
Jasmine felt kind of sad that there was this rift in their family. Zoya sometimes confided that she actually missed her father who had apologised to them multiple times over the years, asking them to return home but Zoya didn't say anything because she didn't want to upset her brother. For a girl like Jasmine who had no family to speak of, this seemed so unfair. Broaching the subject with Hamza was useless. He shut her down every single time she tried to get him to cave and forgive his father
