Layla, an Egyptian expat living in New York City, works as a cultural consultant for a global logistics company. Her life revolves around helping people navigate cultural misunderstandings, but she's hopeless when it comes to her own love life. Things take a turn when she meets two people. Layla admitted. "You left without a word, Omar. You just disappeared. And now, years later, you drop this on me? Do you know how unfair that feels?" "I know," he said quickly, regret evident in his tone. "I know I should have told you then, but I couldn't. You were just starting to find your footing here, to build your life. I didn't want to be the one to derail that."
Chapter 1 A Toast to Beginnings and Unfinished Endings
"Habibti, I saw Safiya's daughter at the market today. She's engaged. When will you give us good news?"
Layla stood on the rooftop of her apartment building, holding a tiny glass of mint tea in one hand and her phone in the other. The city skyline stretched before her like a restless promise, the hum of traffic below blending with the distant wail of a saxophone. She should've been reviewing her notes for tomorrow's presentation, but instead, she was re-reading a text from her mother.
She sighed, sipping her tea as though it held the answer. Behind her, someone laughed- there was a group of neighbours celebrating a birthday. She caught Sam's voice rising above the chatter. "Layla, come join us! Life's too short for tea and work."
Layla waved him off with a small smile. Sam always had a knack for pulling her out of her head, but tonight, she couldn't shake the weight of being caught between two worlds: one where she was Layla the dutiful daughter, and one where she was Layla the ambitious expat, still trying to prove she belonged.
Her phone buzzed. A work email. Her stomach dropped as she read:
"Hi Layla, just a heads-up-the client rescheduled tomorrow's meeting for 8:00 AM instead of 10:00. Hope that's okay!"
Layla froze. It was already past midnight, and her perfectly planned pitch was sitting in a draft folder, half-finished.
With a resigned sigh, she headed down the stairs to her apartment, balancing her tea, phone, and a creeping sense of panic. Tomorrow was her chance to prove that her role wasn't just about translating words but bridging worlds. And if she failed, the whispers at work about her being more charming than substance might finally catch up to her.
As she reached her door, she heard Sam's voice again, this time closer. "Let me guess-you're freaking out about work?" He stood in the hallway, holding a container of birthday cake.
Layla paused, halfway through unlocking her door. "Not freaking out. Strategizing."
"Right," Sam said with a smirk, handing her the cake. "For the record, sugar helps with strategy."
She let out a small laugh despite herself. As the door closed behind her, she set the cake on the counter, opened her laptop, and stared at the blinking cursor on her presentation. Tomorrow would be a make-or-break moment.
But somewhere in the back of her mind, her mother's text lingered, like the ghost of a conversation she wasn't ready to have.