New Life : A Second Chance

Ali's face was scrunched up as he continued down the list.

The fourth candidate: Amira, which meant having a heart of gold. Yes, that would have certainly been just like Sophia, Ali thought to himself. It didn't really matter if one's background wasn't powerful if one had the heart of gold. So logically, Amira who had both, would have been the perfect candidate, right?

Wrong.

It was generally a firm belief in their culture that the child would take after the name that they are given. Thus, choosing a good name was not only common sense, but it was also a sacred duty. A parent should not simply put a name that sounded fancy or unique. It had to have meaning.

No offense to those who named their kids after Cities like Brooklyn, or fruits like Apple or even a compass direction? North, or rather with the surname, it became North West?* Seriously?? Ali shook his head.

However, just because the name had meaning, Ali was of the opinion that one didn't necessarily 'morph' into having the sort of characteristics that the name bestowed.

Amira was a prime example. She worked hard at living up to her name but Ali could somehow tell that it wasn't sincere. There were times he could see there were impatience and lack of true understanding for someone who was suffering. Not that he blamed her since she grew up in such opulence.

Not like Sophia, who truly did it understand. She could sympathize and empathize.

Ali flipped that photo. Another one down.

Candidate number five. Fatima. Captivating woman.

Was she?

Truly, she had the looks and the figure that would captivate any man. With her luscious lips, ample bosom, and long legs, you'd want to bury yourself ... Ali shook his head. Okay, that was getting too much for his brain. And something else that should not be stirring.

However, that was not what being 'captivating' was all about. It was not the physical aspect, was it? Siti Fatimah had been the prophet's youngest daughter with his first wife and she was his beloved princess. She had many titles which showcased her purity of heart and that she was akin to a 'flower' in a garden.

Hence, captivating. It was the aura, the demeanor, the characteristics. All these things that he couldn't see in Fatima. If he was to name a person right now, it would be Sophia. She may not be physically as attractive as Fatima, but she definitely was a woman that would be more captivating than Fatima.

Photo flipped over. Not chosen.

Candidate number six. Maryam. Pious and devoted.

Very true. She would be the epitome of the perfect daughter-in-law. Perfect wife. Certainly pious with wearing of the burkha, eyes always down, submissive and completely devoted to him.

Ali couldn't stand it.

That was not what being pious and devoted was all about. Be true to God and treating your husband well did not mean losing yourself and your identity. A woman was the heart of the family so why should she be treated like that? A woman was created out of the ribs of the man to stand beside them, not beneath them.

They had a mind of their own and feelings of their own.

Of course, who wouldn't like 'controlling' a woman like that? To be served like a King. Such a thing was not just prevalent within the men in his religion, it was also something that was deep within the culture of Country J as well. Their women would even serve tea to their husbands while kneeling!

Ali shuddered. No way. He wouldn't want such a wife and such a life. Photo flipped.

Candidate number seven. Salima. Safe and tender.

Ali stopped at this and tapped his finger.

Truly, so far, this one was perhaps the best choice? She was gentle in her demeanor and soft-spoken. It didn't appear fake either. She was the sort of person any guy's protective instinct would come and take over.

Yet ... there was an itchiness in his heart. He couldn't quite explain it but he wasn't quite comfortable with the thought of having to constantly be there for her. Be her protector. Shouldn't she also be strong on her own and be able to fight by herself?

Not literally, of course, but he always felt like he had to take care of her like some delicate piece of glass. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that and some guys really loved to do so ... but he didn't.

Again, the image of Sophia flashed through his mind. She was a strong person. After that trauma in primary school, she bounced back and was better than ever. Despite the toughness that he truly appreciated and admired, she was also vulnerable at times.

This one, he felt, deserved to be pampered and protected. After all, she was standing strong so much that it couldn't be easy, right? Not like Salima that seemed to scream 'helpless' all the time.

Ali was about to flip it over but stopped. Thinking again, he pushed it up as a possible candidate, hesitated then flipped it over after all.

Candidate number eight. Paksima. One with an innocent face.

Truly an innocent face indeed. Like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth sort of innocence. However, what is the point of an innocent face if ... well, Ali got the vibes of a true 'White lotus' there. One who only looked so innocent and genteel when in reality, they are the opposite.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it but that was what he felt. Was it instinct? Was it just his imagination? He didn't know. He didn't get that sort of vibe from the other girls. Of course, the purest one that he knew was Sophia.

She had been the first to admit what she had done. She did have that rather innocent face but she wasn't truly innocent. However, since she confessed and was open about it, it meant that she was.

Ali flipped the photo over.

He looked at the last remaining two candidates.

Rawhah, meaning scent as fresh as a breeze and Rayme, loving and caring. He snorted. What fresh as a breeze scent? She was bathed in perfume, unlike Sophia. Now, that was a fresh scent. It was like freshly cut grass, strange as it sounded. It's just that whenever he was near her, that scent just calmed him down. Photo flipped!!

As for Rayme, hah. Before he could even finish his thought, his hand was already going to it to flip the picture ...

It was then that Ali stopped.

He looked all the flipped pictures, his fingers hovering over the last one. He blinked his eyes several times. He went through in his mind the reasons for each rejection.

Curling his fingers into his palm, as he made a fist, he clasped it with his other hand. He then put his forehead on it, cursing himself.

When did it happen?

Why didn't he realise earlier?

Was it because he had been so comfortable with her that it felt all natural?

Was it because he was so focused on other things that he never realised how much his thoughts were filled with her?

How he'd always think about what would her reaction be. What would she think. What was her opinion on so-and-so matters.

He cringed when he thought of all the times he sought her help on these candidates of his.

She had helped him relentlessly, selflessly and was always willing to listen.

Damnit. Damnit to Hell.

Ali brought his head up, slammed his fists on the table, swiping his hands on the pictures and got up. The legs of the chair scraping along the floor, making everyone cringe. Like fingernails on a blackboard, it was. If there was still a blackboard in existence ... but that's beside the point.

Ali had to get out. He felt suffocated suddenly.

Kyle's head popped up upon hearing the eerie scraping nose and his eyes narrowed a bit upon seeing that it was Ali. His eyes landed on the desk, noting the pictures that were now scattered all over.

Damn. This happened faster than he anticipated. Looks like someone finally figured out where his heart was.

The other Elite Five looked at Kyle, as if for guidance on what to do.

He shook his head at them, and got up to follow after Ali.

They understood that Kyle would handle this, so they didn't follow.

?? ??

It wasn't difficult to find Ali.

Kyle simply accessed the security system. With the addition of the hidden cameras, he easily pinpointed where Ali had headed off to.

Ali had actually exited the school and was basically wandering aimlessly (well, to Kyle's best estimation). He went to the food truck location but didn't sit down. Instead, he just walked through it and headed towards the park.

At the park, he simply walked.

Kyle followed him at a distance, not getting too close but not too far either. He maintained the exact same distance between them even though Ali would sometimes change the speed of his walk.

Finally, after 20 minutes, Ali stopped and turned around.

"Are you done yet?" he demanded.

"Depends," Kyle said with a shrug, "Are you done throwing a tantrum yet?"

Kyle had known that Ali was aware of him following behind. With Ali's own martial arts training - and the fact that Kyle wasn't hiding his presence at all - it was only natural that Ali would know.

Ali glared at him then slumped down on the nearest park bench chair, legs spread wide open as he hung his head low.

Kyle sat down next to him, leaning back on the bench and admired the view in front of him, not saying a word.

He certainly cut a dashing figure (as always). Despite being in a school uniform, it didn't take away his charm. In fact, it added to it. The sleek dark pants accentuated his long legs while the white shirt complimenting his fit physique.

Since it was high noon, it was getting hot so Kyle unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. It was too constricted and he needed more air and freedom to breathe. Of course, girls stopped and stared as they watched his long, slender fingers unbuttoning the shirt.

Each one internally screaming for him to unbutton everything and was bitterly disappointed when he stopped at the third one. He leaned back, closing his eyes as he leaned his head further back to stretch his neck, prominently displaying his Adam's apple and collar bone.

The whole scene was truly a sight to behold.

Ali was oblivious to it all as he was busy gathering his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he finally lifted up his head and saw the people around him whose eyes seemed to be focused on something else. He turned to look at Kyle beside him and rolled his eyes.

"Damn it, Kyle," he growled, "Can't you even sit on a park bench normally?!"

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