Maeve
London was just as I imagined it. The buildings, the art structures,the people, they were all wonderful. The cool breeze greeted me, a stark contrast to the hot desert air. My impromptu decision to visit was spurred by the gnawing worry for my best friend. Ever since I learnt that Amelie had left him, I couldn't stop worrying about Hassan.
As I navigated the crowded airport, I fumbled for my phone, dialing Hassan's number with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The phone rang, each tone carrying the weight of unanswered questions and a surprise that I hoped he'd forgive.
"Hassan, it's me," I greeted, attempting a lighthearted tone that faltered under the weight of his silence.
"Where are you?" His voice crackled through the line, his tone laced with irritation and concern.
"I'm in London," I confessed, bracing myself for the storm of scolding that might follow.
