Chapter 105 : "So, friends do things together, right?" 

The sun's rays snuck through the blinds in Samir's bedroom, creating playful stripes on his face as if an imaginative child had painted them. He blinked, still feeling the heaviness of sleep clinging to him like wispy spiderwebs. With a gentle tug, his t-shirt stretched as he stretched his body, releasing a yawn that seemed to fill the room. Finally, he managed to pull himself out of his king-sized bed, ready to face the day ahead. But before that he wanted to talk to Farah.

He took the his phone from the nightstand and made his way towards the balcony. His bedroom nestled on the upper floor of the grand Rahman Mansion, provided him with a sense of solitude and tranquility. Only he lived in the upper floor while his mother, Aliya, and Ibrahim - Ava lived in the ground floor. 

And the balcony had the breathtaking view. Below, the Rahman estate lay bathed in the soft gold of dawn. A sculpted fountain gurgled cheerfully. The driveway stretched like a silver ribbon, leading to the watchful eyes of the guards. 

But the scenery held little sway over Samir's thoughts. His mind was occupied by one thing – Farah. Yet the desperate hope that one message, one call, might breach the wall.

His thumb hovered over the screen, composing and deleting messages in a futile ballet. "Good morning, beautiful, what's up?" seemed too banal, "Thinking of you" too presumptuous. Finally, he settled on a simple, "Good Morning, What are you doing?"

The seconds stretched into a suffocating eternity. No reply. A pang of disappointment stabbed at him, but he refused to give up. He tried again, this time dialing her number.

Three rings. Then the miracle happened.

"Is it a good manner to disturb someone this early?" Farah's voice, though rough with sleep.

Samir glanced at the ornate wall clock, "It's 8, Farah. Not early."

A soft snort escaped her. "My morning starts at 10, and today…" Farah trailed off, leaving him hanging.

"Today?" Samir prompted. 

Silence. He waited, the silence stretching like taffy. "Hey! Why did you stop?" Had she fallen asleep again? "Farah?" he called out again.

"What?" came her muffled response, confirming his suspicion. She had indeed drifted back to sleep mid-conversation.

"Today? You were saying something," Samir prodded.

"Today….I have to go to university," she mumbled, her voice now tinged with irritation. "Bye. I need more sleep. Don't disturb me."

And before he could utter another word, the line went dead. Back to sleep, it seemed, was her chosen weapon against his persistent advances. Samir frowned at the phone. Why? Why did this girl hold such power over him? Why did her disdain feel like a punch to the gut?

He couldn't help himself. His fingers, driven by an unknown force, dialed her number again. 

On the other end, the phone buzzed, jolting Farah awake. With a sigh, she answered the call, her voice laced with weariness. "If you call one more time, I'm leaking your number on every adult website I can find."

Samir's chuckle was light and teasing, "Oh, I'm so scared."

"It's better to be scared," she grumbled, "and please, just… don't call me like that. I don't like talking to you."

His smile faded. "Why?" he asked, his voice a touch too pleading. "What did I do?"

"Samir," Farah sighed, exasperation creeping into her voice, "go find another girl. I'm taken, Elara and I…"

Samir cut her off, "I know, I know, I know. But is it too much to ask for a little friendship?"

A hesitant silence stretched between them, then Farah spoke, "It's not that I hate you, Samir. We can be friends if you behave like a friend. I won't tolerate any… interference with Elara and me."

Her words were a sharp line in the sand, a boundary he desperately wanted to cross yet knew he couldn't. He swallowed his disappointment, choosing hope over desperation, "Deal. I'll keep things friendly, no worries."

"Good," Farah sighed, "because friendship is all I'm offering. Don't you forget it."

Samir decided to push his luck. "So, friends do things together, right?" 

"Uh-huh," Farah hummed.

"So, about this friendship business… why don't we kick it off with a friendly dinner tomorrow?" he suggested.

A beat of silence followed, and Samir felt his heart hammering against his ribs. Was it hope he sensed in the quiet? Or just the awkward stillness before another rejection?

Finally, Farah's voice broke the silence, "Dinner?"

Samir cleared his throat, "Yeah, dinner. Just us, talking like two... friends."

Another pause, a little shorter this time. Then, Farah told, "Sure, I'm free tomorrow."

"Great!" Samir's voice crackled with excitement, "I'll send you the address later."

"Sure, now bye," Farah said, signaling the end of their conversation. She placed her phone on the side of her pillow, feeling a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, allowing her thoughts to settle.

As Farah lay there on the bed, she couldn't help but question whether it was the right decision to pursue a friendship with Samir. It wasn't that she didn't have male friends before. She had maintained friendly relationships with them, going out to restaurants, cafes, and even exploring new places together. But with Samir, she couldn't shake off an uneasy feeling that lingered in the depths of her mind.

Was this the right thing to do? Was she playing with fire, inviting chaos into her already complicated life? 

She sighed, burying her face in her pillows. The answer, as always, would come with the setting sun, and with the man who, for better or worse, had decided to become a part of her story, albeit under the guise of friendship.

Farah had always trusted her instincts, relying on them as a compass in her life. They had guided her through countless decisions and protected her from potential harm. Yet, in this particular situation, her instincts seemed clouded, unable to provide a clear answer.

Just then, her phone buzzed again, jolting her out of her ruminations. "Who's this now?" she muttered, reaching for the screen. A name unfamiliar at first glance flashed across the display – Yusuf. 

Her frown deepened as she read the message. "Miss Farah, please visit your uncle when you are free. Rafi sir wants to see you." The request caught her off guard. Her estranged uncle, Rafi, after years of frosty silence, was suddenly extending an olive branch?

"Miracle! Uncle is calling me to visit? Looks like Rafi uncle has gone mad after the divorce." she mumbled to herself, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Despite her annoyance, she typed a polite response, "I'll come on oneday."

Yusuf replied promptly- 

"Sure, Miss. I'll inform Rafi sir."

With a sigh, Farah flung the phone onto the bed. There was a time when she and her uncle shared a warm bond. There was a time when she and her uncle shared a warm bond. She would spend hours in Rafi's house, listening to his stories, basking in his affection. After the death of her father, Hashim, Found loneliness. Rafi went to jail for five years for kidnapping, murder and involvement in illegal activities. But after returning from jail, Rafi wasn't kind to Farah. But it didn't effect her as she already started to take care of her - financially and mentally. 

Yusuf's message was just another in a series of attempts by Rafi to contact Farah through his assistant. Sometimes she would oblige and visit him, while other times she chose to distance herself from the remnants of their fractured relationship. Farah preferred to keep her connection to Rafi a secret from others, presenting herself as an orphan, which was partially true. Her mother, Jasmine, and her father, Hashim, had both passed away long ago, leaving her to face the world alone.

Even Elara remained unaware of the intricate details of her family history. Farah appreciated that Elara never probed or asked questions about her past, respecting her boundaries. This lack of curiosity worked in Farah's favor as she had no desire to divulge the complicated history of her family to anyone. The past, she believed, was best left buried, a graveyard of ghosts she refused to resurrect.

She rose from the bed. "Let's go, Farah," she muttered to herself, "another day, another life."