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*

I am so sorry about the delay, guys! I just got seriously uninspired with this story. But I'll try to update more regularly now.

RECAP

Taif's father's cousin, Ghazala Phupho, had made things difficult for Iman. Things like going into her bedroom, touching her perfumes, and almost instigating Taif's mother to the point that Mrs Bukhari asked Iman to go to her parents' house while Ghazala was there.

After Ghazala was gone (politely told to leave by Mrs Bukhari), now Taif is feeling insecure about whether Iman might have an unfair advantage to win the cherished cardiothoracic surgeon training opportunity that both had dreamt of.

*

Iman

I had been studying nonstop. Or so it seemed. My head hurt, but I had to focus.

Even Taif had been spending more and more time at the library. He was studying for the exam that could win him a scholarship for training as a cardiothoracic surgeon, if he passed with flying colours. And by flying, I mean 40,000 feet in the air at least.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him around.

"Coffee, Iman?" Zack O'Connor, my mentor with the red hair and green eyes who everyone claimed had a thing for me, looked over to me and asked. "You've bee working since hours."

"Coffee is privilege. I don't have time for privilege." 

His pager beeped. "I'm wanted. You want to come?" 

"Can I?" I asked hopefully.

"Sure." 

I put away my books and things in my locker and followed him. "Told you coffee is privilege."

"I hate it when other people are right." He smiled down at me.

"Get used to it when working with me." Even tired, I managed to make a joke. "Can I just observe, Zack? I don't trust myself to physically deal with a patient right now." 

"Of course. I won't encourage you to do so anyway if you don't feel physical fit to help a patient." He paused. "Actually, I wanted to tell you something." 

"What is it?" I asked as we entered a lift.

"Day after tomorrow, I managed to pull some strings, and you will be assisting in a surgery with Dr Fawad Ali." He smiled at me again.

I stopped walking and blinked twice. Thrice. "What? I'm sorry. I think I'm sleepy." 

"I try to get my juniors involved in such things as soon as possible, especially if you aim to go into cardiothoracic surgery." 

"But...am I allowed?" 

"Obviously you are, after strict authorisation, which I have obtained. Obviously, there will be limitations. I'll be with you, and I will brief you, and my instructions, or the instructions of the surgeon in charge, must be strictly abided." 

Pinch me, someone. I'm dreaming. I nodded slowly, awed.

*

My happiness didn't last very long as word got around, and I heard words like 'favouritism' and 'nepotism' being thrown around.

It was a relief to be home.

"Assalam Alaikum." Taif said, entering our room.

"Walaikum Assalam." I smiled, sitting in bed.

He wasn't speaking much, but I assumed it was exhaustion from work.

"How was your day?" I asked.

"Fine. Yours?" 

"Good." 

He turned to look at me. "I heard about your opportunity. Congratulations!"

My heart sank a little. His words seemed nice enough, but his eyes and expressions were saying otherwise. "Thanks." I didn't want an argument. I didn't want bitterness. I decided to not question his behaviour.

He paused as he took his shirt off. "How?" 

"How what?"

"How did you get such an opportunity?" 

"Dr Zack pulled some strings."

"Just for you, or everyone in your batch who wants to follow this path?" 

"I don't know, Taif." I felt myself getting flustered. "I never asked for it."

"Some people always get things without asking...or trying." He muttered.

I pushed the duvet aside and stood up. "Without trying? You think I didn't earn this? I worked my backside off to be here, Taif. I didn't beg my father to give me a job at St Michael's." 

"People are talking, and it makes sense." 

"What makes sense? People talk all their lives. They have nothing better to do. But what do you mean that what they're saying makes sense?" 

"Forget it."

"No, tell me, Taif." I was hurt beyond words at his accusation. "I'm not a nepo baby. I studied hard to change my life around!"

"Out of all these other people, you are getting to be a part of a major surgery with Dr Fawad. You, the daughter of Dr Fawad Ali. Is that a coincident?"

"My first class degrees are a coincident too? Or did I ask Papa to pay my university to grant me those degrees?" I snapped. "I can't believe that you of all people are saying that to me, Taif! I expected this from everyone else, but not you." I took a deep breath. "If it's hurting you so much, I'll refuse."

He looked at me, sharply. "You can't refuse because you pity me!"

"I don't know what you want me to do! If I go ahead, you will accuse me of being a nepotism princess. And if I refuse, you're saying that I'm pitying you!" I held up both hands in frustration. "What do you want me to do? I'm not a psychic. Tell me!" 

There was a knock on the door.

"Taif? Iman? Is everything okay?" Mrs Bukhari's voice came through.

I turned my back to Taif, feeling humiliated tears in my eyes. Now my in-laws will get involved. 

"It's fine, Ammi Jaan, don't worry." Taif called out. "It's just work related."

"Okay, but keep your voices down then. The neighbours will get disturbed." We heard her walk away, before her room door closed.

I turned back to face Taif, my voice significantly lowered as I spoke next. "I have been hearing people talking about me all day. 'Nepotism', 'Favouritism' and 'B***' are just three of the words in the colourful vocabulary that I heard directed at me. But I didn't care. I know that I worked hard for it. But hearing you say basically the same..."

His expressions softened, and he almost looked guilty. "Iman."

"I swear to my Allah, I have worked with honesty and integrity, and I haven't tried to get any sort of unfair advantage in my medical education or career." I shook my head. "But you should have known that. You should know me."

He took a step towards me.

"Stay back, Taif." I got into bed and lay down with my back towards his side, as a tear slipped over my eye, ran over my nose and dropped down onto the pillow.

"Maybe I was jealous when I heard about it." He admitted quietly. "Maybe I'm still jealous now. But that's no excuse for me to make such accusations. I know that you wouldn't take unfair advantages, Iman. You are very intelligent, very hardworking and you deserve this fully. Ma Sha Allah."

"Then why do you keep forgetting that, Taif? Why do you keep forgetting that I actually work hard to achieve my goal, my dreams? Is the idea of being achieving my dream so unbearable to you?" I turned as he got into bed beside me.

"Of course not, Iman. I'm proud of you, and I pray for your dreams to come true, as long as they are good for you." 

"I've dreamt of working with Papa forever. I've dreamt of being in the same surgery, working alongside him. But I didn't even ask Zack to do this. He just told me this today. If I'm being given an opportunity, and if I have actually worked for it, is it wrong?"

"No, it's not." Hesitantly, he grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry, Iman. I hurt you. I'm so, so sorry."

"I will back out, if you want. I don't want issues in our marriage." It hurt me to even say that, but I had been raised to prioritise relationships. 

"Absolutely not!" He smiled. "You are going to go in there, and you are going to make me proud." He squeezed my hand. "Do you forgive me, though?" 

I moved closer to him. "We're partners. We work together as a team, Taif. We support each other. You have no reason to envy me, because you are so brilliant yourself, Ma Sha Allah. I just know that, In Sha Allah, you will pass the exam, and then you will successfully complete your training to become a cardiothoracic surgeon." 

"I feel bad. I don't want you to think that I'm a jealous, bitter idiot, who cannot stand your success."

"I don't think that about you, Taif." 

"You shouldn't defend your husband's toxic qualities."

"And I really won't... when I see you displaying them." I snuggled up against him. "A toxic man would have forced me to back out. He possibly would have forced me to quit my career. You just showed a normal human quality, quickly realised it and then started encouraging me again."

"I do want the best for you, Iman. I do want all your dreams to come true. And..."

"And?"

"I want you to be more successful than me. In Sha Allah." He smiled. "I want to be able to say, 'That's Dr Iman Fawad, my beautiful cardiothoracic surgeon wife!'." 

"And what if I don't succeed?" 

"Then I'll still proudly say, 'There's Dr Iman Fawad, my beautiful ambitious wife, who is a brilliant doctor, whether she's a surgeon or not!'." 

"That's a long sentence to say with pride." I giggled.

He laughed as well. "Then it's good that I won't have to say it. Because I have full faith in my wife's skills."

"I love you, Taif. Remember, we support each other, okay?"

"I love you too. And yes, absolutely."

*

"Mama? Assalam Alaikum!"

It was the day of the surgery, one of the most exciting days of my life, and I saw my mother in Papa's office.

She was sitting at the desk, flipping through a medical magazine, and she looked up with a bright smile. "Walaikum Assalam! I'm so excited!"

"Why?" 

"Because Fawad told me that you're going to be assisting in the surgery." She stood up and hugged me tightly. "My husband and our daughter working together. Ma Sha Allah! I'm so, so, so, so, so proud and happy!"

"I'm just assisting, Mama. Nothing major."

"This is the first step, Mani. In Sha Allah, this is just the beginning of your dreams." 

Papa entered the office. "Iman, let's go." 

"Haye! Let me take a photo of you two!" Mama grabbed her phone. "This is a memorable day."

"Mina..."

"Fawad." 

I grinned, wrapping my arm around Papa's waist, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"My two cardio-something surgeons." Mama got emotional.

"I'm not a surgeon yet." I pointed out.

"You will be, In Sha Allah." Mama spoke with full confidence.

"Can we go, begum sahiba?" Papa teased. 

"If you insist." Mama walked over to hug us both. "May this surgery be successful. Ameen." She turned to me. "How are you feeling?"

"A little nervous."

"When you were nervous or afraid in childhood, you turned to your Papa." She reminded me. "And he will be right there." 

I smiled, looking at my father. "Yes, he will." 

Papa leaned down to kiss my mother's cheek. "I'll see you at home, Mina." He turned to me. "Come on, patakhi."

I kissed Mama's other cheek. "Allah Hafiz, Mama." 

"Allah Hafiz." She smiled emotionally at both of us as we headed away.

*

I was in awe. Again.

I carefully observed how skilfully, how expertly my father performed the surgery. I paid full attention to the procedure, making mental notes of questions that I needed to ask him. I was mainly there to hand out things needed, but I was there. In the same surgery as Papa.

I have to admit, initially, I felt queasy. It was one thing to give someone an injection, but it was completely different to basically watch a person's chest being opened. I was terrified that I was going to vomit, but luckily the moment passed.

I felt like we were there for days by the time the surgery was completed (successfully, Ma Sha Allah!). 

And when we came out of the OT, I threw up in the bin.

"You okay, doctor?" Papa's concerned voice made me straighten up, handing me a tissue.

I wiped my mouth. "Yeah...I sort of forgot the obvious part of surgery...the surgery itself."

He grinned. "Still a decent reaction, compared to me and Arhaan."

I smiled weakly.

"You sure you're okay?" The fatherly concern replaced the smile.

"This is going to be my career, In Sha Allah. I have to be okay." I shrugged. "By the way, whenever you have time, I have questions."

"Of course." 

With a smile, we parted ways to the respective changing rooms to clean up.

*

Freshly showered, I came to the break room, and saw sneers and eyerolls from my batchmates.

"Nepotism b***h." Someone scoffed.

I turned to face him. "If you spend as much time studying and working hard as much as you are hating, maybe you will find yourself getting opportunities as well." I glanced around the room. "I'm not going to work less hard to spare your precious little snowflake feelings. You want opportunities, work for it." Rolling my eyes, I headed out of the room to get myself something to eat.

I was sitting on a table, digging into my vegetable lasagne from the staff canteen, when my phone buzzed.

<Mama: How did it go?>

I laughed out loud. I had no doubt that my mother had been restless till now, her mind on the surgery.

<Iman: Your husband is my hero. Ma Sha Allah! And I got another proof of that today.>

<Mama: Haye! I wish I could see him perform surgery!>

I smiled. My mother was very cute. Ma Sha Allah.

<Iman: If you could, he wouldn't be able to concentrate. 😉>

<Mama: 😊>

"Madam Cardiothoracic Surgeon of the Future, In Sha Allah." Taif's warm voice made me look up as he sat down opposite me with his own food tray. "How did it go?"

"I threw up as soon as I came out, but it was unbelievable!" I said, excitedly. "It was a dream come true, Taif! Seeing my father performing surgery. Being his assistant. Haye!"

He smiled affectionately. "I'm so happy to see you like this."  

"I feel like nothing can bring me down today. I'm on cloud nine." 

"Ma Sha Allah! May Allah protect you from evil and envious eyes. Ameen."

"Ameen."

*

Envy is dangerous. As per our Islamic belief, it can result in evil eye. Also, it can cause people to behave in a spiteful, malicious manner towards others. I got an evidence of that later that day.

When I approached my locker, I saw that it was open. My eyes widened as I saw my notebook torn and ripped apart on the floor, with my things strewn around beside it. In marker, someone had written 'B***H' on my locker door.

People were wicked, but for well-educated people to behave like that was even more despicable! For me, being a doctor still heavily included having humanity and compassion. This was nowhere close.

"Fine. I'm a b***h." I took a photo of the mess, before dialling Zack's number. "Hi, Zack. Would you please come to the locker area in the rest room? I need to report something to you."

*

"You okay?" Papa had called me in his office upon hearing about the vile behaviour.

"I'm fine." I sat at one of the chairs by his desk, gaze lowered.

He came and sat down beside me, running a hand over my head. "You must realise by now that not everyone will be happy at your success, or with an achievement." 

"It's not fair, I didn't even ask for this opportunity. All they see is that I'm Dr Fawad's daughter. They don't see the nights I stay up studying. They don't see the work I put into achieving my dreams. They don't see anything but nepotism." To my embarrassment, I burst into tears. 

"Look at me." 

I looked up at him, even as I reached for a tissue on the box at his desk to wipe my tears.

"Did you get this opportunity because you asked me to pull some strings?" 

"No." 

"That's it then. Simple as that. You know that you earned this opportunity, that you worked hard for it. That's all there is to it. Let people talk." He said. "However, if people start doing more than talking, and they start bullying and abusing you, the you do exactly what you did, and you report it."

"We're not telling Mama about this." I whispered.

"Definitely not." He shook his head. "But I will find out who did this, and I will ensure that they don't work here anymore. My daughter or not, this kind of behaviour is unacceptable. This is a place of saving lives, not destroying people's mental health through bullying."

I played with the tissue in my lap. 

"For now, just keep working hard and honestly, as you have been doing so far. No need to fear people or be intimidated by them. No need to stop your brilliant work just because people cannot accept your success. Okay?" 

"Yes, Papa." 

"Good girl." He patted my head. "Don't let this incident bring you down or weaken you, Mani."

I felt my confidence return. "I won't, Papa. I won't let some hate-filled, envious people bring me down." 

"Exactly. Don't forget whose daughter you are." He smiled.

"The daughter of a brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon." I smiled back.

"I meant Mina, who's always surrounded by drama, yet she fights back against it strongly."  

I laughed. "Oh, yeah. Definitely."

*

"You okay?" Taif held me in his arms in the car parking of the hospital.

"I'm fine."

"Who the hell did that to you?" He was furious. 

"Someone not worthy my time, but someone who would be dealt using the correct procedures." I said, simply. "I reported it, and I'm sure that the hospital management will get to the bottom of this." I glanced at the time on my phone. "Let's go! The bus will be coming in a minute or two."

We both ran towards the bus stop. 

"I'm sorry, Iman." Taif took my hand in his. "I feel even worse now. People are awful."

I shrugged. "Haters are gonna keep on hating, as per Taylor Swift. But I'm not going to stop doing my best."

"Good." 

"You will support me, right?" I looked up at him.

He squeezed my hand. "Always. Maybe, occasionally, I might feel jealous, but I won't let it cause a rift. And if I ever feel envy, I'll pray harder for your success." 

"You don't need to feel jealous. I've told you that before. I'll help you in preparing for your exams so that you can be successful, and you can help me when it's my turn. It's a partnership, not a competition. There's no place for envy."

"My samajhdar biwi." He grinned, just as the bus approached.

*"My wise wife."

"That's also something I got through nepotism." I giggled.

As long as family, my spouse supported me, I didn't care for the envy of people. All I could do was recite protection supplications, and carry on working hard towards my dreams.

*

I know it's a shorter chapter, but I wanted to finally publish something for you guys.

Now Iman is also facing workplace rivalries, and accusations of nepotism. Would she let this impact her confidence?

Is Taif's envy going to make things worse between the couple?

Favourite part?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading, thank you for patiently waiting for an update, and don't forget to vote!