
It was nearly 11 a.m. on Friday, and the room was already half full.
Mugs in hand. Laptops open. The kind of low murmur that always hung in the air before a full-staff meeting. The analysts looked alert. Emir was already at the end of the table, reviewing something I'd emailed him an hour ago. I stood near the screen, tapping through the opening slide deck. Clean. Structured. Ready.
Then Ayub walked in.
Five minutes early.28Please respect copyright.PENANANj6MU71Fcf
Confident. Not cocky. But lighter—like someone who thought a smile over coffee meant something more than it did.
And he'd dressed like it, too.
Charcoal suit. New, or newly tailored—finally sitting right on his shoulders. Crisp white shirt, top button done. Navy tie, the right width, clean knot. Polished oxfords. Matching leather watch strap. Not flashy. Not loud.
Intentional.
I knew what it looked like when a man dressed for power.28Please respect copyright.PENANAmx0dBCCi3G
And I knew what it looked like when a man dressed for me.
He caught my eye as he took his seat near the front. Held it for a beat longer than necessary. There was the hint of a smile there—quiet. Almost sure.
Like we were good.
I didn't return it.
Not because I was holding onto the café.28Please respect copyright.PENANAaEzwchXQ1r
I hadn’t walked away from that table with anything I didn’t mean to leave behind.
But because my phone had buzzed two minutes earlier with an email from my father.
Subject line: Kovač timeline revision.
The body was short. Direct.28Please respect copyright.PENANAViqkCzwp2Z
"Inconsistent communication with clients is unacceptable. I expect better from your team—and from you. Leadership is an amanah. Treat it like one."
He'd attached an email Ayub sent.
I read it twice. Jaw tightening with every line.
Ayub had softened my numbers. Adjusted the Q2 delivery timeline. Framed it as a slight extension—measured, diplomatic.28Please respect copyright.PENANAgdGVQrVBfG
But he hadn't run it by me.
No clearance.28Please respect copyright.PENANAvRrpax8J2R
No discussion.28Please respect copyright.PENANAaHq3XlOMv0
Just initiative dressed as insubordination.
He thought he was helping.28Please respect copyright.PENANAnvYZ5rGSgh
He thought he was showing leadership.
What he did was make me look inconsistent.
It wasn't just a mistake.
It was a misstep.28Please respect copyright.PENANAQBl7R2NKFE
And now it was mine to clean up.
My father didn’t care who sent the email. Only that it came from my team.28Please respect copyright.PENANAVnlFuMv7Ld
Which meant it came from me.
Emir leaned in slightly. "Everything alright?"
I didn't answer.
Ayub must've sensed something, because when I glanced up, he was watching me—brows slightly drawn, eyes searching. The faintest shift in his expression, like he was about to ask.
What's wrong?
I didn't give him the chance.
I looked straight past him, back to the screen.28Please respect copyright.PENANAI5zhdnPb8Q
No acknowledgement. No signal.
Nothing.
He sat back.28Please respect copyright.PENANAc3jkvpTVlb
Didn't ask again.
Good.
Because I didn't trust myself to answer without burning it all down.
I let the room settle. Let the conversations drop. Let the click of mugs and shuffle of chairs give way to stillness.
Then I stood.
"Let's get started."
I moved through the updates like usual—quick, direct, unbothered. A few minor redirections. Emir filled in where needed. The team was alert. Focused. Efficient.
And Ayub?
He was polished. Sharp suit, clean lines, perfect posture. His shirt collar was smooth, his tie properly set, and his responses clipped and precise. He spoke when prompted—measured, intelligent, completely in control.
And underneath all that—
Broad shoulders. Solid frame. The kind of strength you didn’t need to show off to feel.28Please respect copyright.PENANAUAWrJsCIph
A neatly trimmed beard. Strong jaw. Quiet confidence.28Please respect copyright.PENANApWP1fitOru
Composure carved into muscle and silence.
He looked good.28Please respect copyright.PENANAtcVKhM14mA
Too good.
And that—that was what made it worse.
Because if I hadn't opened that email this morning, I might've looked at him and thought he was exactly where he belonged. Like he'd earned the seat. The respect. The authority.
But I had opened it.
And all I saw now was a man who looked like a solution—while quietly becoming a problem.
It didn’t matter how good he looked in a room.28Please respect copyright.PENANAsLF5EGUHL1
Not if he couldn’t hold it together when it counted.
When we reached the implementation forecast, I paused.28Please respect copyright.PENANALNKpF2QXbd
Clicked the next slide.28Please respect copyright.PENANApoOqJRdpdw
Turned my attention directly to him.
I took a breath. Not to steady myself.28Please respect copyright.PENANAByYy16JZcw
To cut clean.
"Selimović."
He straightened. "Yes?"
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to.
"Did you revise the Q2 target delivery timeline in your follow-up to Kovač?"
The room stilled. Every movement halted like someone had hit mute.
Ayub hesitated. Just barely.
"Yes. I gave them an extra week. Based on the supplier report we got Thursday morning, I thought—"
"Did you clear that with me?"
His jaw tensed. "No. But I thought it was minor enough not to disrupt the projection. The client seemed—"
"But it disrupted my promise to the client."
I stepped forward. Calm. Controlled.
"I don't care if you thought it was minor. I don't care if you thought it made you look smart or measured or diplomatic. What you did was undermine alignment, and make me look like I padded numbers I don't pad. Not ever."
He opened his mouth again—small, hesitant. "I was trying to protect delivery margins. I didn't think it would reflect—"
"You didn't think," I cut in. "That's the problem."
Silence.
And this time, he didn't try again.
The team was silent.
"I put my name on those targets," I said. "And you walked them back without consulting me. If you're going to dilute my delivery, do it in front of me. Not after I've stepped out of the room."
Ayub's jaw flexed.28Please respect copyright.PENANAa0Y7WR2pTg
He didn't argue. Didn't offer another word.28Please respect copyright.PENANAUQipsrkGrR
But I saw it—the flicker of something under the surface.28Please respect copyright.PENANAqDjCPNOkLd
Pride. Frustration. Maybe even anger.28Please respect copyright.PENANAaA6Zet6ff7
He swallowed it down.
He nodded once.28Please respect copyright.PENANAc7yODOKygg
Tight. Controlled.
It was all he could do.
You’re supposed to correct in private. Preserve someone’s dignity.28Please respect copyright.PENANA0nKdDctbQd
But leadership wasn’t always about what you’re supposed to do.28Please respect copyright.PENANAKhLH37XcpU
Sometimes it was about what the room needed.
I let the moment hang.28Please respect copyright.PENANAHI2H3aKDvT
Let it sting.
Then I turned away and kept going.
"Emir, pull the original projection into the deck. We'll circulate a revised brief by end of day."
"Got it," Emir said.
Ayub said nothing.
He stayed in his seat—shoulders tight, jaw locked.28Please respect copyright.PENANAhUM8BJiFc7
Not pale. Not shaken.28Please respect copyright.PENANAo4iDgry7J4
Just boiling beneath the surface.
He didn't fidget. Didn't flinch.28Please respect copyright.PENANAm0H58oU6HS
But there was something in the way he stared at the table like it owed him an apology.
I saw it.28Please respect copyright.PENANAP19ck11fWM
I didn't let it sway me.
The rest of the meeting passed in silence. No one joked. No one lingered. By the time we adjourned, the room emptied faster than usual.
I closed my laptop. Stood.
He was still sitting.
Waiting.
I didn’t look at him, but I felt it—the weight of him wanting to speak. The tension radiating off him like heat.
“A word?” he asked, voice low.
I didn’t stop moving.
“Not right now.”
Flat. Sharp.
He didn’t move.28Please respect copyright.PENANABEH4cswmMZ
Not right away.28Please respect copyright.PENANAx2T3OaDKYx
Like he thought maybe I’d change my mind.28Please respect copyright.PENANAzLwGXadlai
I didn’t.
I didn’t give him anything else..
Not until I heard the door open behind us.
“Th-there she is,” Talha said, all ease and grin. “R-ready for l-lunch?”
My shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“Give me two minutes,” I said, already grabbing my phone.
Talha looked tired—like the kind of tired that sleep didn’t fix.
He was in dark jeans and a black T-shirt. The jeans were expensive. Structured. Designer cut. The kind I’d bought him two months ago after telling him if he showed up to one more family dinner in sweats, I was going to set them on fire.
And now he was wearing them to load trucks.
There was dust on one leg, a grease smudge near the pocket. His T-shirt clung to his shoulders, stretched slightly at the collar. Boots scuffed from the dock. Every part of him looked like he’d just come off shift.
And still—somehow—it worked on him.
I crossed my arms. “Are you serious?”
He blinked. “W-what?”
“Those are not dock jeans.”
“They’re p-pants, aren’t th-they?”
I exhaled through my nose. “You’re unbelievable.”
Still, I reached out and dusted off his shoulder—cardboard grit clinging to the black cotton.
He didn’t move. Just let me do it, like he always had.
"N-nice tie," he added, teasing. "Y-you let h-him live?"
"Barely," I muttered.
But I hated how quickly Ayub looked away when he did.
Ayub stood slowly. Not a sound, not a word. Just gathered his things with careful precision.
As he reached the door, Talha looked at him—really looked.
"Y-you g-good?" he asked, low.
Ayub didn't look at either of us.28Please respect copyright.PENANA5BuOmobXF2
"Not the time," he said. Voice tight. Flat.
Talha didn't push.
Ayub walked out.
I watched him go.
Talha watched me.
"Th-that bad, huh?"
I shrugged.
“C-come on,” he said, holding the door open with his shoulder. “I’m st-starving.”
I grabbed my bag, adjusted the strap, smoothed the edge of my blazer like it hadn't wrinkled.
"Let's go."
We stepped into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind us.
And I didn't look back.
But part of me wanted to.
Not to apologize.28Please respect copyright.PENANAkmeP7q6khP
Not to explain.
Just to see if he was still standing where I left him.28Please respect copyright.PENANAk2DqXzfGKU
And if the fire I lit was still burning behind his eyes.
Ibtigha’a wajh Allah.28Please respect copyright.PENANAs1WX9Sn3a6
Striving for Allah’s approval.28Please respect copyright.PENANA2bQtmwNWIJ
That’s what it’s supposed to be.28Please respect copyright.PENANA235OLZmIcj
Not anger. Not ego.28Please respect copyright.PENANAqa6akpZb3l
Not the burn still sitting in my chest.
And definitely not the part of me that wanted him to hurt.28Please respect copyright.PENANABzapx1W5yt
Just enough to remember where we stand.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Lamija is calm.28Please respect copyright.PENANAU6f4Uv1ttL
Lamija is composed.28Please respect copyright.PENANAQcYKfTKQzx
Lamija absolutely did not torch a man’s soul in front of a full staff meeting because he made her look inconsistent on a Friday.
This chapter was brought to you by:28Please respect copyright.PENANAXwYbj1d5ZL
✔ Public professionalism28Please respect copyright.PENANARyaRcv92W0
✔ Private rage28Please respect copyright.PENANAsY6Ngwj1Sw
✔ And a leadership style somewhere between sabr and scorched earth
Ayub showed up dressed for war.28Please respect copyright.PENANAecma71SKYq
Unfortunately for him, so did Lamija.28Please respect copyright.PENANAOPAnvHTYCp
And Talha? He showed up for lunch and accidentally walked into the fallout.
Thanks for reading.28Please respect copyright.PENANA37VStX1LUD
Please make du’a for Ayub.28Please respect copyright.PENANApBlnNk8602
He’s still standing—but just barely.
28Please respect copyright.PENANAHKPr2hquzx