We'd barely made it onto this flight, the only one available before the opening ceremony, thanks to some uncooperative time zones. No rest, no proper prep time, just us diving straight into the fire as soon as we land
I'm confident that our idea will leave an impact on the judge s.I know our idea is good. It's not just goodâit's extraordinary. It's a sustainable smart business hub designed to provide customizable solutions for small businesses worldwide. Think AI-driven tools for marketing, production, and financing, all wrapped up in an eco-friendly model that supports carbon-neutral operations (special thanks to Ahad Bhai for helping us out in that department). It's innovative, it's relevant, and, more importantly, it's ours.
I lean back, arms crossed, glaring daggers at the human embodiment of irritation beside me. Zaid Mirzaâso smug, so relaxed, so infuriatingly calm. His seat is reclined to its full extent, and he's already halfway to dreamland, completely unbothered by the magnitude of what lies ahead.
This guy looks like he's going on his friends birthday party rather than a global contest which can decide someone's entire life. Now I'm just waiting for him to wake up and say "why am I on a plane?"
"Mirza, if your snoring gets any louder, I'm throwing you off the plane" I snap, tapping my pen against the edge of my notebook for emphasis. Although Zaid doesn't snore, he looks ridiculously hot with his tousled hair.
His eyes flutter open lazily, one corner of his mouth curling into that signature smirk I want to slap off his face. "Sweetheart, you know I love it when you stare at me while I sleep."
Yeah you might be wondering why do we resemble an on and off button, one time we're finally having a development and the other we're ready to rip off each others heads. Well... That's how our relationship is. Zaid has changed, he flirts and teases more now and I don't know why I like it.
"Stop flirting Zaid ," I shoot back, narrowing my eyes. "Focus on the contest you look like you're probably relying on your dimples to charm the judges."
I have to smack myself mentally for bringing his dimples into each one of conversations and why? Because as much as I hate to admit it... His dimples are damn attractive.
"Why not? They work wonders, don't they?" he retorts, adjusting his seat like he has all the time in the world. "As if you weren't just staring at them" this time he grins widely, purposefully trying to tease me.
I scoff, spinning my pen between my fingers. "Stop smiling."
He chuckles, low and infuriatingly amused. "You're obsessed with me, aren't you? It's okay, Ira I'm used to the attention."
I snort. "Obsessed? Please. I'm just waiting for the moment I outshine you." I know I can't.
"You sound confident," he drawls, leaning back with a yawn. "It's cute, really. But remember, Shaikh, confidence isn't a substitute for talent."
I lean forward, dropping my notebook onto his tray table with a dramatic thud. "Oh, don't worry, Mirza. I have both. Talent and confidence. What's your excuse?"
"That I'm way too distracted by certain grey orbs"
Ok...what... I look outside the airplane..no no Ayra you can't blush.. stop, but before I know I guess my cheeks must've been scarlet currently.
Thankfully, Zaid doesn't push further and I stay quiet the entire flight.
After the day Zaid hugged me out of nowhere, I haven't been able to recover from that particular emotion. None of us discussed about it further and directly worked on our task. He asked me to stop doing whatever I was doing but he didn't tell me, how do I stop feeling whatever I am feeling?
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
The air in Switzerland is sharp and cold, but the city glitters like a jewel against the night sky. The sleek, modern venue for the Global Business Contest stands tall ahead of us, a masterpiece of architecture that seems to blend innovation with sophistication. The building is illuminated by soft, white lights that highlight its glass and steel exterior, and the faint hum of luxury cars pulling up adds an air of exclusivity.
I tighten my grip on the clutch in my hand, my steps deliberate but steady. I can feel Zaid walking beside me, his presence commanding even without a word. His all-black suit fits him like a second skin, sharp and tailored to perfection, and those signature dimples of his make an appearance when he catches me stealing a glance. His rectangular glasses glint under the warm golden lights of the venue, making him look effortlessly suave.
"Hey listen ira" I stop at my place as Zaid kneels down Infront of me.. is he going to propose me here? But I'm already his fiance.
His hands travel towards my feet as he buckles the strap of my block heel, his finger brushes against my skin And I gasp at the contact.
Ayra from when did you start getting delusional?
"Can't have my fiance fall no?"
He retreats his position and sets my blazer, "ab chalein?"
(Shall we go?)
For a moment, my grey orbs meets his onyx one resembling the encounter of thunder and a dark night; dangerous yet beautiful in a way..
He chuckles, "careful ira with the way you're looking at me, you might trip over due to this handsome distraction" there goes classic Zaid Mirza.
I toss my hair over my shoulder, giving him a withering look. "Don't worry, Mirza. If I fall, I'll take you down with me. Think of it as teamwork."
He laughs, low and amused, before leaning closer. "I won't mind falling if it's with you."
"Tell me something I don't know"
"Touché," he murmurs, his smirk widening as he gestures toward the entrance. "After you, Shaikh. Ladies first, after all."
"How generous," I drawl, brushing past him without a second glance. "Guess chivalry isn't completely dead."
We step inside the venue, and I'm momentarily awestruck. The interior is a masterpiece, with floor-to-ceiling glass walls offering a panoramic view of the snow-capped mountains. The floors are a polished marble that gleam under the soft, ambient lighting. A grand chandelier, made entirely of crystal and designed to look like cascading snowflakes, hangs above the central hall, casting a dazzling glow over the room.
Business professionals from around the globe are gathered in clusters, their elegant attire and confident demeanor a testament to the high stakes of the competition. The hum of conversations, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the faint strains of classical music create an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation.
And I'm ready to impress each one of them.
The hall is buzzing with energy as Ayra and I take our designated seats near the front. The massive stage looms ahead, its polished surface reflecting the soft, golden lights of the room. Around us, pairs from across the world are settling into their seats, each exuding an air of quiet confidence. But my focus isn't on them.
It's on her.
Ayra sits beside me, her back straight, her sharp black business attire accentuating her bold personality. The sleek grey blazer fits her perfectly, and her hair, styled with effortless precision, frames her face in a way that could make anyone do a double take. Her intoxicating scentâsoft yet powerfulâlingers in the air between us, pulling me in without effort.
I glance down at her hand, where my ring sits snugly on her finger. The sight sends a flicker of something through meâpride? Possessiveness? Whatever it is, it makes me smirk. She's trying to act all cool and composed, but I know her better. Ayra Shaikh might claim she's nervous, but she won't let it show. Her confidence is her armor, and tonight, she wears it well.
"Stop staring, Zaid," she mutters under her breath, her eyes fixed ahead.
"Can't" I reply, leaning just a fraction closer. "Too beautiful"
Yeah, teasing her is my favorite hobby and flirting with her is the part of that.
She doesn't look at me, but I catch the faintest curve of her lips. "Don't get too obsessed Mirza"
I chuckle. "Too late."
As the room fills, I notice a pair of delegates taking their seats a few rows ahead. One of themâa tall, blonde woman dressed in a striking red suit âglances our way. Her gaze lingers on me longer than it should, and then she winks.
I feel Ayra stiffen beside me, and before she can say anythingâbecause I know she willâI slide my hand over hers, intertwining our fingers.
"Relax," I say, smirking. "I know I'm handsome, but I'm taken."
She finally turns to me, one brow arching. "Taken? That's bold of you to assume, Mr. Zaid Mirza."
"Not an assumption Mrs Zaid Mirza" I reply smoothly. "A fact. You're wearing my ring, remember?"
Her eyes narrow, but I can see the fire in them, the sass that never fails to amuse me. "That ring doesn't mean you'll get to see any girl and smile hoping I won't say anything"
I chuckle while leaning back into my seat, "who asked you not to say anything? I'm your fiance, you have the right to smash me if I'm caught cheating which I definitely won't"
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she's fighting a smile. "Apna sar Baad mein turwalena abhi focus karo start hone Wala hai"
(You can have your head smashed afterwards, for now focus on the contest, it's about to begin)
"Jo hukum apka hone wali begum"
(Whatever your order is, my future wife)
Ayra adjusts her blazer with practiced ease. She looks calm, collectedâlike someone who's been waiting for this moment her entire life. Meanwhile, I lean back in my seat, letting my smirk speak for itself.
"Want to make this interesting?" she murmurs, her tone as sharp as her eyes.
I glance at her, intrigued. "How interesting?"
Her lips curve into a sly smile. "Whoever messes up first on stage owes the other two months of coffee runs."
I scoff lightly. "That's it? If I win, you'll call me hubby everywhere."
Her laugh is soft but laced with mockery. "Keep dreaming, Mirza. When I win, you're announcing to the entire hall that I'm the brains behind this project."
I consider this for a moment, then nod. "Deal. But we both know I'm just here for the aesthetics."
"Delusional," she mutters, rolling her eyes.
Before I can retort, the announcer's voice cuts through the room.
"Team Z-A, please make your way to the stage."
Showtime. Rising to my feet, I extend a hand toward Ayra with an exaggerated bow. "After you, Mrs Mirza."
She places her hand lightly in mine, her confidence radiating as she steps forward. The room seems to hold its breath as we ascend the stage, Ayra leading with a poise that makes it hard to look anywhere else. I follow close behind, muttering under my breath, "That's my girl."
Ayra begins the presentation with effortless authority. Her voice is steady, each word a calculated strike. "Good evening, esteemed judges. We are delighted to present our projectâa sustainable smart business hub designed to empower small businesses worldwide."
She commands the room, her words drawing everyone into our vision. I watch her, captivated by the way she owns the stage. There's something magnetic about herâa fire that burns brighter under pressure. Damn, she's stunning when she's like this.
I snap back to focus as Ayra hands the floor over to me. Stepping forward, I add, "Our hub leverages cutting-edge AI tools for marketing, production, and financing. It's not just smart; it's sustainable, supporting carbon-neutral operations while ensuring small businesses thrive responsibly. It would be a smart choice to invest in such a business"
The audience listens intently, their expressions a mix of fascination and curiosity. But what mostly catches their eye is our ability to outshine all of them with our holograms and a part where we called any business personality to envision our idea virtually. Thanks to Ahad who helped us with this department, guess having tech experts around you is actually benefiting. As I finish I let the claps make their way to my ears as I button one of the button of my suit.
Just as we hit our stride, the most challenging voice in the room cuts in.
Azlan Malik, a tech mogul who could make or break careers with a single word, leans forward. His gaze sharp, his tone sharper. "Interesting concept, but scalability is a challenge. How do you ensure efficiency for businesses with vastly different needs?"
Ayra steps in without hesitation, her confidence unwavering. "Our platform is built on modular AI systems, Mr. Malik. Each business can customize its toolkit based on its unique requirements, allowing the system to adapt dynamically while maintaining peak efficiency."
Azlan raises a brow, clearly intrigued but not done. "And cybersecurity? Small businesses are easy targets for data breaches."
This time, I field the question. "We've integrated blockchain technology to secure transactions and data sharing. In addition, we use multi-layered encryption protocols to ensure data integrity, even in high-risk scenarios."
Azlan continues to probe, each question more complex than the last. But Ayra and I handle them with precision, our answers seamless, our teamwork impeccable. By the end, Azlan leans back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
Applause erupts as we descend the stage, the sound loud and satisfying. Ayra turns to me, extending her fist. "Good work, partner."
I bump it with my own, a grin tugging at my lips. "You weren't too bad yourself, Shaikh. But don't start planning those coffee runs yet. The bet's still on."
Her laugh is light, brimming with confidence. We take our seats, waiting for the final results. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a thought lingers. If this doesn't secure us a spot, nothing will.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
The last of the presentations wraps up, and the hall buzzes with energy. Delegates begin mingling, discussing ideas and forming tentative alliances. The organizers announce that the shortlisted teams for the next round will be revealed on the event website by tonight, leaving an air of anticipation hanging thickly.
Ayra stands a few feet away, casually sipping a glass of water, her posture relaxed yet commanding. It doesn't take long before someone approaches herâa tall delegate in an expensive suit, his smile far too confident. From the way he leans in slightly, it's clear his interest extends beyond professional collaboration. He introduces himself as shepherd I guess... Were his parents fond of German shepherds or what?
"I must say," he begins, his voice smooth, "your presentation was exceptional. But I couldn't help but notice you off the stage too. A powerhouse with charmâthat's rare."
Ayra quirks a brow, her expression polite but distant. "Rare, perhaps. But I hope you focus more on the ideas than the presenter. Isn't that the point of this competition?" Her tone is sweet, but the underlying barb is unmistakable.
The man chuckles, undeterred. "True, but sometimes it's hard to separate the two when the presenter is as captivating as the idea."
I catch the exchange from across the room, and irritation flares in my chest. Before I can think it through, I stride over, my jaw tightening with each step. Reaching them, I slide an arm around Ayra's waist, tugging her possessively closer.
"Captivating, isn't she?" I say, my voice low and laced with challenge. "Lucky for me, she's already taken." My grip on her waist tightens ever so slightly as I glance at the man, daring him to argue.
Ayra's head tilts to look at me, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Zaid, this isâ"
"Not interested," I cut in smoothly, my gaze still locked on the man. "Thanks for appreciating my fiancéeâs talents, though. We've worked hard on the project."
The man's confidence falters slightly, and he clears his throat. "Ah, of course. Well, good luck to both of you."
As he retreats, I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Ayra twists to face me, her expression caught between exasperation and amusement.
"Fiancée, huh?" she glares, folding her arms. "What was that Zaid?"
"Just saving you the trouble of dealing with him," I reply, though the possessiveness in my tone betrays me.
She rolls her eyes and steps out after ranting, "Zaid what is wrong with you? You can't act like some possessive man when you yourself don't know what you want"
What I wanted is now not a question now that I know the answer to it.
The ground is quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. The sun casts a golden glow across the field, painting it in shades of amber. It's peacefulâuntil Maha's voice slices through the calm.
She thought it was better if she helped me out for my international match in London since I was so helpful with her fashion show era.
Her definition of helping me is playing with me for my practice since this madam calls herself "a professional footballer" cute ain't it?
"Okay, rhino" she calls out, her tone dripping with misplaced confidence as she bounces the ball on her toe. "Time to show you how it's done. Watch and learn!"
She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as though I've personally offended her ancestors. "Excuse me! I am an excellent football player, thank you very much."
"Uh-huh." I roll my eyes, trying to keep a straight face. "Sure you are."
"You'll eat those words, Khan!" she announces, charging toward me with the ball.
Her movements are chaotic, like a toddler trying to dribble for the first timeâzigzagging across the field with no rhythm or reason. But again no she's Maha hence she's good at everything. I can't help but watch her with this stupid grin I don't even realize I'm wearing.
She gets close, way too close, and I finally step in, easily tackling the ball away. It rolls several feet behind me as she stares at me, jaw dropping.
"That's cheating!" she exclaims, hands flying for emphasis.
"How is that cheating?" I ask, fighting back a laugh.
"You're not supposed to tackle me like that! New rule: no tackling when I'm this close to goal."
Maha sprawls dramatically on the ground, clutching her side as if I've just committed some heinous crime. "You cheated, Rayan! You're a cheater! A rule-breaking, heartless rhino! How could you?" Her voice crescendos into a theatrical sob, and I can't help but grin at her antics.
I crouch down beside her, shaking my head. "Maha, it's a game I had to tackle you."
"But that was a wrong way!" she exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at me while still lying flat on her back. "You're just saying that because you know I'm right. Admit itâyou tackled me because you couldn't handle my brilliance."
I chuckle, sitting back on my heels. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
"Unbelievable and undefeated!" she declares, suddenly springing to life and sitting up, her face lit with that mischievous grin I know all too well. "But I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself, Rayan. Let me kick again, and we'll call it even."
I let out a dramatic sigh, holding out my hand to help her up. "Fine. One more kick. But if you missâ"
"I won't miss!" she interrupts, puffing her chest out like a cartoon hero. "I'm Maha-the-Mighty. I never miss."
Standing upright now, she sets the ball down, taking a few steps back to prepare. Her focus is intense, but the way her nose scrunches slightly makes my heart ache in a way I can't explain. She's that something I'll sacrifice my everything forâa girl in love with someone else while I pretend to be hers.
She runs up and kicks the ball, sending it sailing past me effortlessly. I don't even move to stop it. Watching her celebrate is more satisfying than any save I could make.
"Yes!" she cheers, jumping up and down, her fists pumping in the air. "I beat the rhino! What a day! Rayan ko haraya! Bara maza aya!" She twirls around, her energy contagious.
I laugh, shaking my head. "Thank God you aren't my competition over there or else there was no chance I could win"
She stops mid-spin, narrowing her eyes at me. "Exactly."
She starts bouncing again, singing at the top of her lungs, "you lost I won!"
As if that weren't enough, she launches into a nonsensical rant about how she's a potential football legend and I'm an ok player. I lean against the goalpost, letting her words wash over me, too caught up in the way her forest green eyes shine to really listen.
And then, out of nowhere, she belts out, "Mujhe jeena sikha diya, marna sikha diyaâ"
(It's a song... He taught me how to live, how to die)
Ayein?
I shake my head, muttering under my breath, "Chup rehna bhi sikha deta kya chala jaata uska?"
(Couldn't they have taught you to stay silent too? What would it have cost them?")
She stops and looks at me, hands on her hips. "Did you just say something, Mr. Rhino?"
I look up and mask my most innocent expression, "no no ma'am I didn't say anything"
She pulls my cheeks while laughing and I should hate it, but I don't.. how can I? She can crash me with a car and I wouldn't say anything.
As she continues her victory dance, I watch her with a mixture of amusement and longing. She's chaos wrapped in sunshine, and I'm the idiot who fell for it.
Maha prances away, singing a nonsensical tune about her victory, and I can't help but smile as I watch her retreating figure. She's the embodiment of chaosâwild, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. And me? I'm the fool who let her dismantle my walls, brick by brick, with every laugh, every smirk, every ridiculous stunt.
She turns back briefly to flash me one of her radiant smiles, and my chest tightens like a vice. This feelingâit's too much. It's as if I'll suffocate if I don't tell her, if I don't let it out.
I can't let my chance of looking at that smile every morning I wake up for anything.
The possibility of her saying a yes is worth getting a heart wrenching rejection.
I push off from the goalpost and call out, "Maha, wait!" My voice cracks slightly, betraying the storm brewing inside me.
She stops mid-step and tilts her head, her playful grin intact. "What now, Mr. Rhino? Need another round of defeat?"
I walk toward her, my heart thundering in my chest. Every step feels heavier, every second more unbearable. She starts to speak again, but I can't let her derail me.
"What rhino! You're here to tell me that you let me win or what? Because if you are then you should know it's all my remarkable skills... You're just feeling bad that Rayan Khan was defeated by Maha Aamir..."
I reach out, placing a finger gently against her lips. "Shut up or I'll kiss you Maha."
Her eyes widen, and for the first time ever, she's speechless. That rare silence feels like a window, a fragile moment of clarity I can't waste. I brush a strand of her hair out of her face, my fingers lingering a second too long. Her scentâsomething sweet and inexplicably herâgrounds me, even as everything inside me threatens to unravel.
"Maha," I begin, my voice low and unsteady, "I don't even know where to start. You... you've ruined me."
She blinks, her lips parting as if to say something, but I press on. If I stop now, I'll lose my nerve. "Now listen to me please.."
"I was fine being grumpy, okay? I was fine with my routine, my space, my damn walls. And then youâyou came crashing in like this chaotic beam of sunshine, and suddenly nothing was the same. You're infuriating, you're reckless, and you drive me insane. But I don't want a single day without you in it."
My throat tightens, and I feel the sting of tears threatening to spill. I swallow hard and force myself to continue. "My world⦠it was fine without you, Maha. It was steady. Predictable. Boring, even. And I convinced myself I liked it that way. Until one day⦠it wasn't fine anymore. It stopped. Just stopped. And the only thing that could make it spin again⦠was you."
She opens her mouth as if to say something, but I shake my head, desperate to keep going, to let her hear it all before I lose my nerve.
"You ran after me that day, calling me Rhino like it was the most natural thing in the world. And Maha, my heartâit hasn't stopped since. From that moment, it's been yours, even when I didn't want it to be. Even when I knew you couldn't possibly feel the same."
"My own parents never cared about how I felt but you did, the girl who came to my match even if it meant skipping her training session, who gave a speech Infront of my parents only because I was upset, who crashed my forced date. I never realized when our fake turned into my reality. I've spent every second with you trying to keep it together, trying not to show just how badly you've wrecked me. But Maha, you have. You've ruined me in the best and worst way possible. I can't go back to who I was before you, and I don't want to. Because even if this hurtsâloving you, knowing you might never feel the sameâI'd take this over a life without you any day."
The tears I've been holding back finally spill over, but I don't wipe them away. "I can't keep this inside anymore. It's killing me. So there it is. I love you. I love you in ways I can't even begin to describe. And I don't need you to answer me right now. I don't even need you to love me back. I know you love someone else but I know I can treat you better.. I'd give you the world if you ask for it, hell, I would become your world if you let me"
Her eyes glisten, but she's still silent, still frozen in place. I exhale shakily, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her cheek. The contact is fleeting, but it feels like an eternity to me.
I take a step back, running a trembling hand through my hair. "If you find yourself in a position where loving me is a possibility then please come to my final match.. that's all I ask for"
Without giving her a chance to respond, I brush past her, my heart pounding like a war drum. My mind races with a thousand thoughts, but one stands out above all the chaos.
What have I done?
The sun dips lower in the sky, painting the horizon with streaks of amber and crimson. I'm standing at our spot, the hill overlooking the quiet expanse of greenery, the perfect place for sunsets. It's peacefulâan ironic contrast to the storm brewing in my chest.
Hoorain has been⦠different lately. Since Maha's fashion show, she's been distant, her usual spark dimmed. Something isn't right. And now, she's asked me to meet her here, where the world feels still, as if waiting for something to break.
I hear the crunch of her footsteps before I see her. Turning, my heart does its usual flutterâthose blue eyes, her ash-brown hair catching the light just so. But there's something missing. The light in her eyes, the warmth in her expressionâthey're absent.
"Hoor," I say, smiling softly, stepping closer.
She doesn't respond. Instead, she closes the distance between us and throws her arms around me. The force of her hug startles me, but I don't hesitate. I tighten my hold around her immediately, pulling her closer as if I can shield her from whatever's troubling her.
But something feels⦠different. Her hold isn't comfortingâit's desperate, like she's clinging to me, afraid of letting go.
"Hoor?" I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
She pulls back, her arms falling to her sides, and looks up at me. Those blue eyes, so often full of playfulness and love, are now clouded with something I can't quite place.
"Ahad," she begins, her voice shaky but determined, "which school were you in?"
I frown, confused by the question. "Gohar international," I reply, unsure of where this is going.
Something flickers in her eyesâa flash of recognition, of hurtâbut she swallows hard and presses on. "Do you⦠do you know Husnain Jafri?"
The name hits me like a jolt. A memory stirs in the back of my mind, unwelcome and bitter. I nod slowly, unable to deny it. "Yeah, I know him. Why?"
"Ahad," she whispers, her voice breaking, "I need you to be completely honest with me." She pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing herself. "The last day of your batch's graduation⦠that night⦠were you the one who locked the storeroom door?"
The air is knocked out of my lungs. My heart stutters in my chest as her words pull me back to that nightâa memory I've tried so hard to bury. My throat dries, and for a moment, I can't speak.
"Please, Ahad," she pleads, stepping closer. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Don't stay quiet. I won't believe anyone else, no matter what they show me. I just need to hear it from you. Did you do it?"
I open my mouth to deny it, to explain, to say anythingâbut I can't lie to her. Not to Hoor. Not to the girl who means more to me than I've ever admitted. My head dips as I nod, the weight of my past crashing down on me. The real question is how come she know about my past that I've shielded her from? Did Ayan or Zaid tell her?
Her silence is deafening. I just nod.
She takes a step back, her tears spilling over, her breaths shallow. "I can't⦠I can't believe this," she whispers, her voice trembling. "Ahad, I can never imagine that the night which destroyed me, made me terrified of darkness, of being alone⦠that night was because of you."
What!? Shock engulfs my entire body.. no it can't be like this, there was no one in that room... I would've never made someone else's life a trauma when mine was.
"Hoorain," I choke out, stepping closer, but she takes another step back, holding her hand up as if to stop me.
"The door you locked, Ahad" she cries, her voice cracking, "I was in there! Didn't you hear me screaming? Didn't you hear me begging for someone to open it?"
Her words replay in my mind, each one hitting like a blow to the chest. The weight of her pain is unbearable, and knowing I caused itâthat I was the reason for her sufferingâcrushes me in ways I can't even put into words. I was meant to be the one to heal her not the reason she needed healing.
She's standing just a few steps away, but it feels like an impossible distance. I want to close the space between us, to hold her, to tell her that I didn't mean to do it. That if I had known, I would've ripped that door off its hinges.
But I don't move.
I can't.
She's not ready, and I can't make this about myself. If I doâif I tell her how I've carried the weight of that night too, how I was the one who suffered too, how it wasn't just her haunted by the memoriesâher grief will be swallowed by my own. And thatâs not fair.
So, I stay rooted to the spot, tears streaming down my face as I watch hers crumble. She's breaking apart in front of me, and there's nothing I can do to piece her back together.
Hoorain's trembling hands reach into her pocket, and when they come back up, I see what she's holding. My breath catches.
The dry petals of the flowers I'd given her, arranged as a makeshift ring when I'd proposed to her. It feels like a lifetime agoâa moment so pure, so full of hope and promises. And now? Those petals are just brittle, lifeless remnants of what we once had.
With a trembling voice, she looks up at me and says, "Turns out sunsets aren't always pretty, and turns out the moon never was in the first place."
The words hit me like lightning, and my mind flashes back to the first date we had here, in this very spot. She'd pointed at the sky and said, "The moon is pretty, isn't it?"
Back then, I didn't understand what she meant, not until later when she shyly admitted that in her world, that phrase meant, I love you.
And now? Sunsets mean goodbye.
My knees feel weak as the meaning of her words sinks in. My chest tightens, and a deep ache settles into my bones.
"Hoorainâ¦" My voice cracks, raw with desperation.
She steps back, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, her face etched with heartbreak. "We're over, Ahad," she whispers, her voice barely audible, yet it feels louder than anything I've ever heard. "Please, I request you⦠never show me your face again.â
Her words rip through me, leaving an emptiness so profound I canât even breathe.
"Hoorâ¦" I beg, my voice trembling. "Please don't do this. I didn't knowâI swear to you, I didn't know. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just don'tâdon't leave me like this."
Her tears spill over, but she doesn't step closer. Instead, she shakes her head, running a hand through her hair as if she's trying to ground herself. "You can't fix this, Ahad," she says again, her voice broken. "You can't undo it."
The finality in her tone pierces through me, leaving me hollow.
My hands trembling as I reach out, but I don't touch her. I can't. Not when she's looking at me like I'm a stranger, like I'm the thing she needs to escape from.
She doesn't say anything more. Her eyes meet mine one last time, and I see everything in themâanger, pain, love, and loss. It's the same way she always communicated with me, without words. Only this time, her eyes are saying goodbye.
"Let me go Ahad, don't make it hard for me" her lifeless eyes narrate.. it's almost ironic how we are still using our language on our spot... But there's no our.. it's her and me.
"What about my destroyed life without you?" I shake my head with tears.
She steps to leave but spares me a single glance, "I'm also leaving the most beautiful thing I ever had"
And she leaves.
Ending the tail of Hoorain and Ahad.
The night has settled in, blanketing the world in a quiet chill. I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching her retreating figure. I don't... know how to process without her. Mujhse Meri Zindagi saansein cheen kar ye kese soch Liya Kay tumhare bager guzara bhi hai Mera.
My knees feel weak, my heart crushed beneath the weight of what just happened. I wipe at my face, but my tears refuse to stop. She's gone, and she doesn't want me to follow.
But I can't let her walk alone.
Not when I know her fears. Not when I know that darkness is her enemy, one I inadvertently created. My Hoorâno, not mine anymoreâis out there, vulnerable and afraid, and I can't do anything but make sure she's safe from the shadows.
I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling as I swipe through the settings. The drones I keep in my bike for emergencies hum to life, their faint whirring audible even from here. With a few taps, I direct them to follow her, their lights glowing softly as they hover near her.
She doesn't notice them at first. Her pace is hurried, her arms wrapped around herself. She's trying to be strong, trying to hold herself together. But then the soft light from the drones spills over her, and she stops abruptly, her head turning to look at them.
Her expression shifts. At first, she looks confused, almost startled, and then the realization hits her. She knows it's me. Her lips tremble, and she closes her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks.
From where I am, a safe distance behind her, I see her shoulders shake. She doesn't make a sound, but I know she's crying.
And so am I.
I shove my hands deep into my pockets, keeping them there to stop myself from reaching out to her. I don't have the right anymore. She asked me to let her go, to stay out of her life, but I can't leave her completely alone. Not like this.
I match her steps silently, staying far enough that she doesn't feel cornered but close enough to be her shadow. The pain in my chest grows heavier with each step, each second of her quiet sobs.
We walk like this, her under the soft glow of the drones and me trailing behind in the dark, our silent cries are the only things we share now.
When she finally reaches her hostel gate, she stops again. She turns her face slightly, as if she's aware of my presence but refuses to acknowledge it. The drones hover above her, their light casting a halo around her figure.
Her hands wipe at her face quickly, like she doesn't want anyone inside to see her tears. She takes a deep breath, steels herself, and walks through the gate.
The drones turn off automatically as she disappears inside. The light vanishes, and I'm left alone in the dark.
My hands come out of my pockets, trembling, and I cover my face as the sobs I've been holding back break free. She's gone. She's really gone.
And I realize, painfully, that there's no light bright enough to guide me back to her now.
I've lost her. I've lost Hoor. I've lost myself.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
Hey guys I hope y'all are doing fine and well.
Yeah I had this chapter written before my exams and I finally got the time to edit it...
A surprise update for y'all â¤ï¸ð¦
Yayy finally y'all received the confession of Raha ðâ¤ï¸
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In contrast with the views, I'm expecting 500 to 600 votes.. ð
The next chapter will be updated after 20th December due to my exams.
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