Chapter 56 : She is crying.

Ava pushed open the door to their bedroom, expecting to see the neatly ironed clothes she had left for Ibrahim to handle. However, the scene that met her eyes was something out of a comedy of errors. The room carried an unmistakable scent of burnt fabric, and her wardrobe lay scattered with dresses that now bore unintended scorch marks. 

She approached slowly towards the bed. And her gaze immediately fell on her favorite dress, the one she had planned to wear on a special occasion. It lay crumpled and marred by burnt streaks, a casualty of Ibrahim's ambitious ironing endeavor. Shock and disbelief etched across Ava's face as she tried to make sense of the unexpected chaos.

And Ibrahim was standing there with the iron still in hand, looked more like a perplexed businessman than the head of a criminal empire. He really lost his identity. 

"What on earth happened here?" Ava exclaimed, her finger pointing accusatively at the burnt dresses.

"I told you, this is not my forte." Ibrahim replied. 

Ava's eyes flitted across the array of dresses. Her favorite pieces, once carefully handed by her, now bore the unmistakable scars of Ibrahim's ironing adventure, "You burned my clothes!"

Ava began assessing the damage and she counted the burnt marks on each piece. The toll of Ibrahim's ironing adventure became painfully clear – 18 out of her 24 clothes lay victim to the misguided attempts at domesticity. Her eyes widened with disbelief. She was unable to contain her emotions, felt a lump forming in her throat. "Eighteen out of twenty-four," she whispered, the weight of the loss sinking in. 

Ibrahim, still holding the iron, watched Ava's eyes well up with tears. "Why are you crying?" 

Ava, her voice shaky, gestured towards the ruined clothes. "I bought these with my own money. They were more than just clothes; they were memories."

Ibrahim gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ava, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'll buy you new clothes, even better ones from other good brands."

Ava replied while sobbing, "No, Ibrahim. I want these clothes. You don't understand. They were unique."

"Okay, okay," he said, trying to console her. "I'll find these exact clothes for you. Just please don't cry, baby girl. Don't cry." Ibrahim requested her. 

Ava, still distraught. While looking at her burnt clothes she replied, "You don't get it. They were from a street market. They change their stock regularly. It won't be easy to find the same ones." Her tears were flowing continuously. 

In an attempt to console her, Ibrahim cupped her face with his hands and made her look into his eyes. "Ava, look at me. I'm sorry. You can beat me, scold me, do whatever you want, but please don't cry like this. I can't stand to see your tears."

He took a step closer, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away the dampness on her cheeks. "I figure this out.And I promise to make it right, even if I have to scour every street market in the city."

She hesitated before posing a question that seemed to hang in the air. "Promise you'll bring the same clothes for me?" This was the first time, Ava demanded something from Ibrahim. 

Meeting her gaze, Ibrahim nodded affirmatively. "I promise, baby girl. Don't cry." He was still wiping her cheeks. 

Ava gazed into Ibrahim's eyes, felt an unexpected softness in his brown gaze. His eyes held a depth of earnestness that seemed to cut through her fears. She found herself questioning why she was drawn to his eyes, their warmth oddly comforting.

Stepping back, Ava composed herself, using the back of her hand to wipe her cheeks. Her blush-painted cheeks now carried the traces of emotional turmoil. She stated, "I want my clothes back before our weekend getaway."

"Okay, princess, as you wish. Now sleep; it's 3 in the morning," Ibrahim replied, gesturing towards her bed.

Ava glanced at her bed cluttered with clothes and retorted, "How can I sleep when there are so many clothes?"

Ibrahim took charge, neatly rearranging her clothes back into the closet. Turning towards her, he offered a gentle reminder, "Now sleep, your bed is clean."

Ava, succumbing to the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster, lay down on her bed. Ibrahim couldn't help but smile at her undeniable cuteness. The question lingered in his mind: Why was she so cute? He mused silently about why she had such an effect on him. She always looked so innocent to Ibrahim.

"May I switch off the lights?" He inquired.

With a slight shake of her head, Ava whispered, "No."

Ibrahim respected her unspoken fears and left the lights on, pondering when the day would come when Ava could let him sleep peacefully with the lights off. Ibrahim also went to his bed without changing his clothes. He was too tired for that.

....

The soft morning light filtered through the hotel room's curtains, casting a gentle glow on the aftermath of the night's escapades. Jessica stirred, her curly hair tousled and hiding beneath the blankets. She blinked into consciousness, realizing she wasn't alone.

Prof. Syed sat on the sofa, legs crossed, a glass of wine in hand, and his gaze lost in contemplation beyond the glass window. The ambiance hinted at the shared secrets of the night.

With a sly smile, Jessica peeked out from under the covers. "Morning, Professor," she greeted him. 

He turned to her, the corners of his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Morning, Jessica. Sleep well?"

She chuckled, "You could say that. Last night was something else."

Prof. Syed took a sip of his wine, "Indeed. Though you did mention I was a bit painful."

Jessica, wrapped in the sheets, rolled her eyes with a teasing smile. "Well, sometimes pain is pleasure, isn't it?"

Prof. Syed leaned back, "True. Care to join me for some morning wine?"

Jessica glanced at the clock, "Morning wine? You're breaking all the rules, Professor."

He shrugged, "Rules are meant to be bent."

She slipped out of the bed, hiding behind the sheets, and joined him on the sofa. They clinked glasses, toasting to the night's adventures and the unusual relationship they shared. 

"What about my viva marks, Professor? I need a perfect score—20 out of 20. No even numbers less." Jessica asked. 

Prof. Syed chuckled, "Demanding, aren't you? We'll see what can be arranged."

Jessica, still wrapped in the sheets, playfully nudged Prof. Syed with a grin. "I'm not demanding, Professor. It's just my right after all the 'educational' experiences I endured last night."

Prof. Syed chuckled, appreciating her cheekiness. "Ah, the joys of academia."

She leaned back, still holding the sheet strategically, "Exactly. So, about those viva marks..."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. "Are you sure you want to talk about viva marks now?"

Jessica smirked, "Always. A girl has to secure her academic future, you know."

He clinked his glass with hers, a smirk playing on his lips. "Consider it your reward for enduring the 'educational experiences.' But, I can't promise a perfect 20."

Jessica laughed, "Fair enough, Professor. As long as you don't grade me on a curve."

Prof. Syed, swirling the wine in his glass, looked at Jessica thoughtfully. "So, what's the story with Farah?" 

Jessica raised an eyebrow, "Why do you ask?"

He leaned back, "Just curious. You and Farah seem to be in the same class. You're friends, right?"

Jessica chuckled, "Not really. We're in the same class, but I wouldn't call us friends. More like acquaintances."

Prof. Syed smirked, "Yet, you seem to know quite a bit about her. I hear she's skilled in some... unconventional talents. Hacking, I believe?"

Jessica nodded, "Yeah, she's good with computers. Helped a few friends out, including me once or twice. Why this sudden interest in Farah?"

He grinned, "It's my problem, Jessica. You don't need to know. Just a bit of curiosity. Any idea where she lives?"

"Why are you so interested in Farah's whereabouts, Professor?" Jessica asked.

Prof. Syed replied while looking at the window, "I just need to know something about her." 

Jessica nodded, "She lives in a shared apartment with some other classmates. Why?"

Prof. Syed paused for a moment, then leaned forward, "Jessica, how would you like a unique opportunity? There could be a significant reward in it for you."

Jessica was intrigued too, "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to live in Farah's shared apartment for a few days. Keep an eye on things, observe. There'll be a good reward for you, of course." Prof. Syed said with mysterious smile. 

Jessica furrowed her brow. "Live in Farah's apartment?"