The Emir

That day began as ordinarily as possible. Grandma was bustling about in the kitchen, waiting for an old friend to visit, and her granddaughter was lazily scrolling through her phone, eager to escape to her room. But when the doorbell rang and a tall man appeared on the threshold with his guest, the world around her seemed to freeze.

It was her ex. The same one who had turned her life upside down a few months ago and then vilely trampled all her trust.

Their acquaintance began strangely and spontaneously—right on the street. He confidently approached her, struck up a conversation, took her phone number, and entered his Instagram account. Then followed weeks of blissful texting and several perfect dates. At the end of their last meeting, he kissed her romantically goodbye, promised to text her when he got home... and simply disappeared. He blocked her everywhere, cutting off all contact without a single explanation. She was left feeling resentful, angry, and misunderstood for weeks.

And now this coward is standing in her grandmother’s hallway.

The sight of her made the boy's face reflect genuine horror. The girl, however, didn't bother hiding her contempt—she crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with such an icy, resentful gaze that the temperature in the hallway seemed to drop.

"Oh, do you know each other?" the grandmothers began to fuss, noticing the heavy, ringing silence.

“Yeah... we crossed paths once,” the guy squeezed out, cowardly lowering his eyes.

The girl said nothing, only bit her lip painfully, feeling the old resentment boiling up inside her again. The old ladies happily sat them down at the table to drink tea, unaware of the drama they had caused. The boy was forced to sit directly across from her. He frantically picked at his cup with his spoon, afraid to raise his head, and she glared at him with a withering gaze, determined: he wouldn't escape this house that easily today. He would have to look her in the eye.