14/03/2025
Love Across the Aisle
The first time Zainab noticed him was on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. The library was nearly empty, just the way she liked it. She had settled into her usual spot by the window, where the soft glow of daylight illuminated her pages perfectly. As she turned a page of *The Alchemist*, she felt a gaze on her.
She glanced up briefly.
There he was—across the aisle, leaning against the bookshelf, flipping through a novel. He wasn’t reading, though. She could tell. His eyes weren’t scanning the lines; instead, they flickered up every few seconds. At first, she thought he was looking for someone else. But no, his attention always returned to her.
For the next few weeks, their encounters followed the same pattern. She would come to the library, find her seat, and lose herself in a book—only to feel his presence nearby. He never spoke to her. Never approached her. Just the occasional stolen glances, the ghost of a smile when their eyes met, and the way he always sat in the opposite aisle, pretending to read.
Until today.
"Excuse me," the deep voice interrupted her reading.
Zainab looked up, mildly irritated. There he was, standing in front of her, holding a copy of *Things Fall Apart.* His dark eyes held a mischievous glint, like he had been waiting for this moment.
"I think you have my book," he said.
She frowned, glancing at the book in her hands. "Your book?"
He nodded. "There was only one copy left. I reserved it yesterday. But somehow, it ended up with you."
Zainab felt a pang of guilt. She had just grabbed it from the shelf without checking. She slid it toward him. "I’m sorry. Here, you can have it."
But instead of taking it, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. "Or… we could read it together."
Zainab raised an eyebrow. "That’s a terrible pickup line."
He chuckled. "It wasn’t a pickup line. I genuinely want to read it. And since you clearly love books as much as I do, why not?"
