Wednesday, July 1, 2026

Heart on Lock *16 / Finale*

Three months later 


The sun was gleaming on the water, nothing but the horizon filling my gaze. 

Jude sat next to me, sipping her iced coffee we’d gotten from Starbucks earlier. 


My mother was in France, a break from Germany, though she took those breaks often. She hadn’t come back to Kuwait since she'd last left, though. I guess she didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of the engagement breakup. Or the tension I caused between her and her cousin and aunt. I mean, they couldn't just act like it was all going to work out. They knew that there was a very small chance Talal and I wouldn't get along, and unfortunately for them it ended up being the likely scenario. 


Still, she would eventually have to come back. We were told Zaid was expected to come home in two months’ time and continue his physical therapy in Kuwait. I guess my dad told my mom they were pushing it. There was no need to stay abroad that long if he just needed physical therapy. I would miss the solitude, the stillness of the house without either of my parents taking charge. I was going to enjoy those last few peaceful moments where I did whatever I wanted without feeling scrutinized; though I overdid the freedom, clearly. 


“I’m don’t know if you’ve heard,” Jude said, looking at the waves lapping while we tanned. 


“Heard what?” I said, glinting against the sun. She took a sip of her water on the table next to her.  


“Talal kind of found someone, of course through his mom,” Jude said tentatively, like she was trying not to destroy me. I held my breath; why was I so invested? 

Maybe it was because I ruined my own future. I had it in the palm of my hands and I had to let it go. 


“Who's the girl?” I said. I tried my best not to sound like I cared so much. I still couldn't believe I was discarded. 


“His sister told me she is on her last year of university,” Jude explained. "She's cute, but not as mature as you," she said. Was she calling me old? 


I nodded. She did ask me the real reason we broke up and I just blamed it on our irreconcilable differences—which was kind of true. I had to hand it to him, he did keep his promise, one that I pathetically begged him to make to tell everyone it was mutual. 


“Good for him,” I said, and it came out slightly sharper than I had intended. 


“What about you? Anyone new?” she asked me. I sighed and shook my head. 


There was nothing anymore between me and Yaqoub. We were completely over. He never replied to my note to him on the plane. He never even unblocked me––his display picture is still the default image, and my messages to him were never seen let alone delivered. I broke him and for that I would never forgive myself. 


I also never went back to that cafe we’d meet at before work, I’d go straight from my car and to the office; that was it. I couldn’t bear to see him again. The worst thing was, everything reminded me of him: my coffee order, the roads that led to the circuit, my damn car. I wanted to uproot myself and grow elsewhere, but maybe I was a bad seed. Rotten wherever planted.  


“You’ll definitely find someone. Anyone would be lucky to have you,” she said. I doubted it. I hadn’t had any suitors since Talal. I blamed it on the fact that it was summer and most people weren't even in the country. I mean, my parents weren't.  Maybe winter would be better, especially with my mother being in the country by then. At least that would be one thing to look forward to. 


I watched Jude's wedding ring glisten in the sun, and guilt punched my stomach at what I knew. She could never know the truth about her husband. I’d have to pretend I'd never even heard a thing. I still kept a lookout for Sara, just in case I ran into her again here. I also didn’t want to see her again—ever. 


My secret, on the other hand, was between Yaqoub, Razzaq, and me. 

No one else could ever know. 


***


“Do you want the spicy or salt and vinegar chips?” Jude asked me while we were at the Sultan Center that was closest to us. 


“Salt and vinegar,” I said, adding some cans of Coke to my basket. 


I felt a sense of dread knowing I’d be back to work in two days. There wasn’t much to look forward to anymore; I needed a vacation but I was stuck in Kuwait, until my mother approved of me again. She wouldn't even return my calls or pick up. Of course, only Razzaq knew of this, and I begged him to stay out of it. He could convince her to talk to me again, but I didn't want him to hold so much against me.


Jude and I paid for our items, two full bags worth of junk and random toiletries. I held my breath while my eyes locked with Sara, walking into Sultan Center as I was leaving. She was wearing a halter top crochet dress. I put on my sunglasses and looked ahead, watching her smile fade into confusion. She had to know what she did. I walked faster than I normally did, just in case she called out to me in front of Jude. How the hell would I explain to my best friend how someone like her could possibly know my name?


“Trashy,” Jude whispered as we were a few feet ahead of them. I snickered, but not loud enough for Sara to hear. We got into my car, parked in front of the store's small complex. 


“I want to stay an entire week here. I really don’t want to go back to work,” I complained with a sigh. I wish I could tell her about Yaqoub, but she'd leave me too knowing I kind of cheated on her cousin with him, emotionally at least. Not only would she drop me so quickly but she'd also turn a few girls against me even with no real reason at all. I couldn't get on her bad side. 


“When will you work for your dad? It’s kind of unfair that AbdulRazzaq didn’t even work anywhere else but you're expected to,” she replied as I drove to the chalet. 


“I think by the end of this year. He’s been working with my dad since high school, I think that’s why,” I told her, trying to convince myself more than her. “Still I know it’ll be a while until I get the heavy work.”


"Well good luck," she said, fidgeting with her seatbelt.  


We entered the familiar gates of my family's chalet compound, nestled with palm trees and foliage chosen to battle Kuwait's heat. They were almost losing the battle, but they were still standing. I had to give it to the gardener. My eyebrows scrunched once I spotted an unfamiliar black Patrol parked between Jude's car and Razzaq's. 


“Who is that?” Jude asked once we parked. I opened the car door and peeked at the driver in the car before I exited the car. My stomach rumbled with butterflies; was this how my new chapter unfolded?


Did all of that drama happen just to lead me to this moment? 


My heart swelled at the prospect of him. He was a much better option than Talal, too. My mother would be over the moon if we did end up together. She'd forgive me, and maybe even say that everything happened for a reason and she was grateful for the turn of events. Just maybe. 


“Hi, Zaina. How are you?” Khaled said once he rolled down his windows.


“I’m good, how are you?” I asked with a smile, still hiding behind my glasses. My tan was fresh, and I knew I looked hot in my white summer dress with my gladiator sandals. My highlighted brown hair was down to my elbows in loose beach waves. I was definitely a catch, and I could see it in the way he looked at me. He didn't look so bad himself. 


“I’m good, thanks,” he replied just as my brother walked outside his chalet. 


“Sorry, had to grab something really quick. The entire chalet is yours,” Razzaq told me as he passed me. I didn’t know he and Khaled were hanging out; Khaled was maybe five years older than him, but my brother was always the kind to get along with older people in spite of his younger age. 


“Who is that?” Jude nudged me once we entered my chalet. I blushed, feeling my body heat up. My mind was already making up a million fake scenarios, and for a moment I felt hopeful. Confident, even.  


“Our parents are friends,” I said, adding Khaled’s full name. 


“So that’s him! I’ve heard of him before,” she said, sorting out the chips in the bowl. “He’s cute!”


“He is, isn’t he?” I replied, feeling relaxed that I can gush to her about him. At least she wouldn't think that I was offending her cousin. He already moved on. 


“I can so see the two of you together,” she said, confirming my fantasy. I wanted to make it happen, but there was nothing I could do; I couldn’t risk my reputation any further and I was already skating on thin ice with Razzaq. I couldn't go after his friend. 


I could only wait. 


But my heart was crushed, shredded into a thousand pieces because I did wait. 


I waited, and I waited. Patiently; calmly for my own future with him. 


It made perfect sense to me, and every fiber in my being felt like it would happen. 


Only he didn’t choose me—he chose Fajer,  and he chose her after her initial divorce. 


What did she have that I didn’t? 

My family was richer, and I’d say we were equals in terms of beauty. I just didn’t get it. 


His novelty wore off once he married her. I didn’t want to be a second option—I didn’t want to be a backup plan he could fall into, cushioned by a guaranteed marriage. 


However, my mind still searched for Yaqoub; searching for what once was. 


He had my heart on lock, and I don’t think that I’ll ever win. 




***



Not a typical blog ending, sorry! I just wanted a more realistic one especially after defining Zaina's family dynamic, fleshed out more in the sequel of my novel, If You Only Knew Me. 


Zaina's story miiight not end just here, though! 

I expand a bit more on her (future) self in If You Only Knew Me. 


Tell me: are you a fan of her character or did you dislike her from the start? 


And once again, thank you so much for reading!


Cashmere xx




Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Heart on Lock *15*

I got back in the car with Razzaq, who was busy texting. To be fair I wasted a day of his race expereince on this whole drama. God, I felt even worse. Of all the people he could’ve run into he ran into me.


“You’re in a suite?” I said once he told me that there was a spare room. 


“Of course,” he replied like anything else was beneath him. I realized I buried the feeling of irritation at my regular hotel room that I got with Yaqoub. I’d sleep in regular hotel rooms, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t have the means to upgrade me to a better room, like a double room or something. 


Maybe Zaid was right; but a tiny part of me thought I could’ve adjusted to whatever Yaqoub could offer. I really did like him, maybe even love him. I couldn’t deny that what we had was real––it was almost intense. 


“Do you think I should stay with Talal?” I asked my brother now that I'd calmed down a bit.  


“Yes,” he said. “There’s no better match, Zaina,” he replied. 


I sighed and leaned my head back. I guess I had to accept it. The love might come later, or maybe never, but at least I'd secure my future. 


“You should think with your head. Think for your kids’ sakes; they’ll notice the difference, and that is if my parents would even talk to you,” he told me. “He’s not worth the trouble.”


When he put it like that it did make sense; I was willing to abandon my family for Yaqoub,  and that wasn’t me.  I rarely even abandoned myself. 


“You’re right,” I said. Guilt still swarmed in my head, a little flutter in my body at what I did to Yaqoub. 


I did play him. I lied to him, and he didn’t deserve it. I squirmed in my seat until we arrived at the Mandarin Oriental, and it was only then that finally relaxed. 


I was back in my world again. 


*


Razzaq went out for lunch with his friends; at least we weren't stuck together. I pampered myself in the luxurious hotel suite with a hot shower, and laid on the bed of the guest room in the white bathroom robe to watch some TV.


 However, I took a quick shower, unlike my usual hourly ones. I even played some videos to distract myself as showers were the one place were my thoughts plagued me, and I wasn't ready for another breakdown again. My stomach finally settled from the guilt, though it still cramped for brief moments. 

Still, I grabbed my phone and looked for Yaqoub’s name. My heart dropped when I realized that his display picture disappeared. 


My eyes welled; he had blocked me. I was almost sure of it.


Hello, 

Please let me know how much the trip was so I can refund you. 

Again, I’m very sorry. I was going to tell you, and I was going to be with you. I always chose you. 


My suspicions were confirmed once the ticks appeared as one tick. The cramps spread now, amplifying in pain. 


“I’m so stupid,” I said, sobbing into my hands. God, of course I wasn't over it. My heart genuinely hurt. I couldn’t believe I was losing the one thing I looked forward to everyday. I had him in my hand but he slipped through my fingers. 


My phone buzzed. It wasn’t a text but a call, from Talal. 


Oh no. I hadn’t told him I wasn’t in Kuwait. Did his phone ring weird? Did it sound international?


“Hello?” I said, after clearing my throat. I wiped the rest of the tears with the back of my hand.


“Hello Zaina, how are you?” my fiance told me. 


“I’m good, how are you?” I said. My heart was thumping. Did he figure out that I was in Abu Dhabi?


“I’m fine, thank you. Are you alone?” he asked. What did he want?


“I am,” I said. I heard him exhale on the phone, and my breath halted.


“Listen, I—I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, and I gulped. I hoped it was about pushing the engagement announcement earlier, and right now I had no issues with that. 


"Okay," I said, sitting up straight. It came out more like a question. 


“I—I don’t think this is working out,” he said. The room spun, and my breath faltered. 


No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. 


“Why—why are you telling me this now?” I said. Did Yaqoub somehow know I was engaged to him? Did my brother rat me out to him? But why? Did he think Talal deserved someone better? 


“You’re right; I should’ve told you much earlier. It’s clear you’re not really into the relationship. I’ve tried to give it time and give you the benefit of the doubt but I don’t know if I’ll be happy with how things are,” he said. This was officially one of the worst days I’d ever had. I’d never felt shittier as a person; I was a liar, a cheater, and an overall bitch. No wonder I didn’t have many close friends. 


A tear rolled down my cheek. This would be my default mode for days to come. 


“I—I’m sorry you got that impression; I was just in a bad place, but I’m okay now,” I replied. I couldn’t believe I was begging him to stay when days ago this was exactly what I wanted. Careful what you wish for. 


“Are you even in Kuwait now?” he said. My body was on fire; I was sweating. I could barely breathe. 


“H-how did you know?” I said, feeling cornered. I knew it was dumb to lie. Was Yaqoub somehow a friend of his? Or did Razzaq spill everything? 


“The phone rang weirdly, that’s how. See, you didn’t even tell me you were traveling,” he replied. I’d never heard Talal this frustrated before. 


“It—it was a last minute thing with Razzaq,” I said. “I swear, it slipped my mind,” I replied. 


He sighed, frustrated. 


“Again, I don’t think this is the best case scenario for either of us,” he reiterated. My heart was crushing. I was rejected twice today, and it was all my doing. 


My mother would kill me. She’d blame me if he broke up with me first, making me feel like this was all my fault; all my wrong-doing. Something flawed within me. 


“Can, can we just give it one more chance?” I said, trying to contain my tone. I still sounded pathetic. 


“I’m sorry, Zaina. I just don’t think so. I wish you all the best,” he said. 


“Talal, wait,” I said before he hung up. I was clearly crying now, it was in my voice. “Can we say it was a mutual agreement? Please? I, I can’t deal with my mother blaming me,” I said.


“You see all that depth you just revealed? Where was that the entire time? It felt like talking to stone,” he said. I sniffled, and wiped a tear.  


He sighed. “Sure. We’ll say it was mutual,” he replied. 


“Thank you,” I said. 


“Take care,” he said, before he hung up. I didn’t bother chasing after him. 


With shaky hands I called my brother, but he wasn’t picking up. I was in deep shit. 


Call me asap 

I texted him. 


I looked for the closest flight back to Kuwait. I didn’t want to stay here. I needed to go home. To my wing, distract myself from what had been happening.  


I took a deep breath, my finger hovering over my mother’s contact. I should tell her now. I had nothing left to lose. I had no dignity, at least I didn’t think so. I was spiraling, and that day couldn't get any worse. There was no way things would be even worse than they are. I had hit rock bottom. 


My heart raced as it rang, and I secretly prayed she wouldn’t pick up, but she did on the fourth ring. 


“Yes, Zaina?” she asked me. My throat clogged again, a big rock sat comfortably now, unwilling to move. 


“Are you busy?” I asked her, voice croaking. 


“Just at the hospital. What is it?” she said, almost curt. As long as she was in Germany I knew there would never be a good time. She hated being there, I could tell. Around Zaid and his stupid self-inflicted accident. Around sterile smells and beeping machines instead of a scenic cafe in Paris. Probably to mostly avoid her gossipy circle, too, and to save face. 


“I—I just wanted to tell you that, um,” I began, my voice failing me.


“Zaina, what is it? Spit it out,” she almost yelled now. What was I thinking? Calling her was a terrible idea now that her sharp tone sobered me up. 


“Talal and I called it off,” I blurted out, ripping the bandaid off. “It was mutual,” I lied. 


My fingers trembled as I waited for her reply. I could throw up on the queen-sized bed right now. 


“What the hell have you done, Zaina?” she yelled now. At that moment I kind of wanted to die. There was nothing for me anymore. 


“I didn’t do anything,” I yelled out, crying. “It was mutual, I told you,” I lied. Tears spilled freely now, and I had to grab tissues to wipe my dripping nose. I was a mess. 


“What the hell am I supposed to tell his mother? Do you know how bad this whole thing is now? How awkward thing will be between me and my cousin?” she yelled, as if matching us together couldn’t possibly result in us not working out. I guess they didn’t see that outcome. Because it was never supposed to be a possible outcome, anyway. 


“Talal is going to tell her,” I said in a low voice as a rock lodged itself in my throat. 


“Just stop talking! Stop talking!” she yelled now. She was manic, I could tell. “You’re embarrassing me, did you not think of me? Did you not think that this was something we all looked forward to, finally, and now you took it away from us? Do you understand how selfish you’re being?” she said. 


“I’m sorr-“ I began but she already hung up. I yelled into my pillow and flung it across the room. I didn’t care if it would knock an object over, I was done. I stopped caring. Maybe that was how I should be. Uncaring, then maybe I’d hurt less. 


My entire body hurt; from my breaking heart, to the dark pit of guilt settled in my stomach, to fiery flow of rejection coursing through my veins. I could barely even breathe. I took my robe off, and threw on my airport clothes, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I couldn't face myself, face how disgustingly selfish I could be. 


My phone buzzed on the bed, but this time it was a call from Razzaq. The background noise was clear he was in the arena. 


“I’m leaving. I’m going back tonight,” I told him, pacing around the suite. 


“Why?” he asked me. 


“Talal called it off,” I said. “Did you tell him anything?” I yelled into the phone. 


“What? Why would I tell him?” he yelled back. The buzz of the race was audible in the background, one I should've been to. I threw it all away. 


“You tell me,” I said. 


“It’s just coincidence it happened today, I had nothing to do with it!” he said. 


“Why did you even confront him? This is all on you! If you’d shut up I’d at least still would’ve been with Yaqoub!” I myself was manic now; blurting things out without thinking. I couldn’t control myself.


“Like you two would stand a chance,” he yelled back. “Go back to him; watch how everyone including myself will cut you off and then you’ll come running back to us with a kid because you can’t live the life you’re not used to,” he said.


“You told Talal, didn’t you?” I yelled. He scoffed.


“Why would I tell him, Zaina? Besides, isn’t that what you wanted?” he replied.


“Not when you broke me and Yaqoub up!” I yelled back. 


“I broke you up?” he yelled back with a second scoff. “You cannot for the life of you admit your mistakes or hold yourself accountable. Grow up,” he replied before hanging up. 


I could barely breathe. No one liked me, not even Razzaq now that he admitted how he felt about me. Maybe I did point the finger at everyone but myself. 


Still, I had hope Yaqoub and I would’ve worked out; I’d put my family under an ultimatum: it was either him or no one. Yet, I was sure my mother had no problem kicking me out of the house for it. 


I grabbed my carryon and handbag and left the suite, I couldn’t stay here, not if my brother kept grilling me and blaming me when everything wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t intervened. Maybe Talal wouldn't have called me, either. 


The hotel grabbed me an airport taxi—I still didn’t change my flight, but hopefully could make it in time for the next one back in two hours. 


The sun was blazing through the window, glaring at me. I looked through my chats and Jude’s name blinked back at me. She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it once she knew. Would it even impact our relationship? It definitely would make things awkward whenever I had to see Talal and his mother during occasions and whatnot. God, I ruined it for myself. 


What other options did I have? 

Well, there was Khaled, the son of my parents’ friends. He was still single, so maybe he’d propose some day. Plus he was much more attractive than Talal.


I arrived at the airport and headed straight to the counter to fix my ticket. My brows shot up at the price, as if it fazed me, but I still paid the difference. 


My phone buzzed with a text from my brother. 


You really left?


I rolled my eyes and scoffed, making my way through security. At least I got a seat in business, or whatever excuse of business class they called it. 


Yes. Flight is in an hour. 


I headed to the lounge, comforted that I didn’t have to sit at a cafe while I waited for my flight. I couldn't do that to myself again. I sighed in relief once I made it with half an hour left until boarding, at least it was something. 


My phone buzzed with a text from Razzaq again. 


Let me know once you’re home. 

Also mother called, she wants me to cancel your ticket to Germany & France. She’s raging. 


My heart thumped again. She really did not want to see me.


She just needs time. 


I replied, trying to soothe myself more than him. 

I mean, it was kind of true, she just needed time…until the next suitor came along. Which could be soon. I’d had hope.  I was a catch, and the next one had better be hot. 


I downed my bitter coffee and made my way to the gate, placing my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose while I waited to be boarded. I was in the second row, a stark difference to yesterday’s flight. I couldn’t believe the turn of events that had happened in just those twenty-four hours. 


“Thank you,” I told the flight attendant who hauled my carry-on onto the overhead storage. 


I sat next to an older Kuwaiti man, who looked uncomfortable but at least there was decent space between us.  I saw a familiar pair of olive green Nike’s, ones I couldn’t mistake. Ones I rarely saw a duplicate of. I couldn’t raise my head, but it was only when I felt his shadow pass me that I turned.


It was Yaqoub, still in the same clothes, his navy cap on his head, his silhouette once a comfort. My heart thumped, breaking while it did––he had changed his flight to today, because of me.


Usually my heart would sing when I'd see him, I'd light up like he was my glow. I couldn’t believe it was over between us. 


I couldn’t talk to him, I couldn’t beg for forgiveness anymore. He made his stance clear, and besides, it seemed to finally dawn on me that we weren’t going to work out. Like, ever. 


Lowering my standards, living a life where I’d suppress how uncomfortable I felt until I exploded; it just wasn’t for me. Still, part of me wished we'd still be friends, as if that was an option. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from falling in love with him, hurting us both in the process. 


I just hoped he wouldn’t rat me out to anyone that mattered, tainting my reputation, but he wasn’t that kind of person—it wasn’t him. If he'd changed it was because of me, maybe I taught him being nice got you nowhere. I checked my phone to see that he hadn’t unblocked me yet, and god I felt bad for having him return early. Maybe he saw me. I was sure he did. 


He was crushed and it was all my doing. I squirmed in my seat, unable to sit still with the feeling of guilt. I flagged the flight attendant and asked her for a pen and paper. At least I’d say I tried. 

The flight attendant looked at me like my request was stupid, and maybe it was. 


I wrote my final message to him.


I’m sorry I had to send the message this way, but I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t do it. Before I apologize I want to thank you for everything. 


I had the best times with you. I loved every single second. You made me forget everything and everyone when it was just us, and I’ve never felt that way with anyone and don’t know if I ever will. It was always you, I promise. I’m really really sorry for lying to you, I didn’t mean for things to go the way they did.

I was afraid of calling off my engagement, and it’s over now, anyway. My mother doesn’t want to talk to me because of it. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. You don’t deserve it. 


I don’t expect anything in return, but I just want you to know the truth. 


Zaina 



I almost finished both sides of the paper, and my letter was sealed with a teardrop. I folded it up. I hadn’t realized we took off, and the seatbelt sign should be switched on soon. 


I checked my phone and see that I had received a text from Razzaq while I was busy pouring my heart out.


I told the driver to come to the airport for you. Just update me when you land 


I guess he felt bad he ruined things for me, or maybe he saw how pissed my mom was at me and sympathized. 


“Excuse me, can you hand this letter to Yaqoub,” I told the flight attendant once she passed me, including her his full name. “I’m not sure where he’s seated.”


“Of course,” she said, seeing that I was still in sunglasses and looked like a mess. 


“Thank you,” I said, resting my head back. 


Guilt settled in my bones, and all I had to do was live with it. I accepted who I was. I was not a good person. I wasn’t pure of heart.