The Good.

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5

It started one night three years ago. She had been nineteen at the time, living in Amira. After losing her parents, she'd had nowhere to go so Zoya, her best friend since the time they'd been in diapers, had insisted that Jasmine stay with her at her brother's home.

Hamza Qureshi was forty six years old, a friend of her late father's and Zoya's married older brother and guardian. Jasmine hadn't felt comfortable with the idea of being a burden on someone else so she'd been adamant about offering rent to Hamza during her stay there. He'd only accepted after observing just how stubborn she was regarding that one condition.

Six months passed while she grieved in the silence of her room every night. By day, she studied English Lit at Amira University, attending her classes regularly. Hamza was a lecturer there and Zoya shared some of the same classes as her. Her best friend only went to university because it was the only way she could meet her boyfriend, Rizwaan.

The laws were strict there in their country. Things such as premarital relationships could lead a girl into a lot of trouble. Jasmine usually found herself caught in the middle when Zoya sometimes disappeared with Rizwaan after classes and Hamza inquired about his little sister's absence. It was a scary situation to be in. She found Hamza intimidating even though he had been nothing but kind to her since the day she had moved back in. But while covering for Zoya, Jasmine was aware that she could face certain problems if her lies were ever discovered.

One evening while lying in bed and thinking about her parents, she received a text from Zoya.

Jas. Shit. I left my assignment on the kitchen table. Please get rid of it before we get home and Hamza sees it.

With a sigh, Jasmine threw off the covers and made her way to the kitchen in bare feet. She didn't bother turning on the lights since the windows were open and bright moonlight flooded inside allowing her to sort through the papers as she tried to find Zoya's assignment. Her friend could be careless sometimes and Jasmine shook her head at the fact that Zoya had left a failed assignment out there for her brother to stumble upon.

"You're not supposed to touch those."

Jasmine's heart leapt to her throat and she turned to find Hamza Qureshi standing right there beside the kitchen door watching her. She blushed hard, feeling embarrassed by her lack of attire. She was only dressed in a t-shirt and tiny shorts, having believed that she was the only one home. Everyone else was supposed to be attending a wedding reception nearby.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in horror, putting the papers back hurriedly. "Zoya asked me-"

"You can tell her I found the assignment," he interrupted abruptly. "And that I'll be speaking to her tomorrow. I didn't want to say anything tonight because she seemed to be in quite a festive mood."

Jasmine swallowed and nodded before lowering her gaze and praying he would leave her alone so she could go back to bed with her dignity intact. But he didn't move from the spot. When she glanced back at him, she found him staring at her. The situation was so inappropriate and awkward. Why wasn't he allowing her to leave by stepping aside? He was practically blocking her path with his tall, bulky presence.

She frowned at him when she realised that he had no intention of leaving. Swiftly, she moved past him to return to her room but her foot caught on the rug and she stumbled. Hamza's arms were around her in an instant, pulling her upright and back up against his body.

With a gasp, Jasmine shifted out of his hold and stepped away, glaring at him. Nobody had ever dared to touch her like that before. He didn't have to hold her that tightly just to keep her from falling. What the hell was going on with him?

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