Mariam Abdul:
"What are you doing?" He quickly hid the packet behind his back when I asked, but I could still smell it.

"Throw it," I said in my most composed voice, but he did the exact opposite. He took a lighter and was going to light it while holding a cigarette in the other hand.

I put a tray of food on his tiny square table, ran up to him, and grabbed it out of his hands. I then threw the food outside his window and stood in front of him. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were puffy, possibly from crying. Astagfirullah, what is the matter with me?

"When did you start smoking?" While he was not even looking at me, I asked him a question.

"Why would you care?" He asked roughly, and I tried not to be weak in front of him; I can not imagine him hurting himself.

"I smoke when I am stressed," he said, shrugging his shoulders as if it were normal to smoke.

I looked down and said softly, "You are killing yourself and this smoking will kill you," and there was a pause in conversation.

I begged him, "Please," in a low voice, but I think he heard.

"Please take your food, and we need to talk," I told him, but he just stood there, and I moved back because I felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

I went to get him dessert, and since he had just come out of the bathroom and washed his hands, I gave him his painkillers as prescribed by the doctor.

"Everyone is in the next room," I told him, and he nodded. He took his medicines and stood a little further away from me while eating his dessert.

"When all I have been doing is hurting you, why are you taking care of me?" He asked, and I simply smiled and shook my head.

"You know why," I told him.

"That is not the answer," he said, and I could tell he wanted to know why.

"You said this is all for show," as soon as the words left my mouth, I heard him stand up abruptly and simply turn around from me.

Did I say something wrong?

"Drop it," he did not want to talk about it. I could tell that his body language had changed as well.

"Where are you parents?" The question left my mouth before I could stop it, and I quickly shut it, but the words that came out of his mouth surprised me; he wanted to finally share something with me.

"They passed away, it is a long story," his voice was full of emotion, and I felt I should have been there for him while I was happily leaving with my loving family. The guy had been suffering, and was this why he pushed me away and crushed my heart?

I told him that it is better to know and talk to someone before getting married in order to avoid more issues. My parents must have been sleeping by now, so I explained to him that sometimes sharing something with someone makes your mind feel relaxed. Do not bottle up your feelings inside and hurt yourself.

"When my mom was very ill and in the hospital, we did not have a lot of money. I tried asking our neighbors and other partners-where my dad worked-for help. He also asked for a loan, but how much can one ask for? Days passed, and doctors told us we were late, so she just died," he said, spaced out and far away from me, as if in his own world.

"After mum died, dad became distant; he cursed himself; he could not save his wife; he could not be a good businessman; and he realized it was money that people cared about," he said in a sad voice. I wiped a tear from my cheeks; he had turned around and seen my small action and shook his head.

"He took his own life," he said, as if I was not supposed to hear it.

"He left a paper for me, a written paper, when all I wanted was him by my side, damn it," he said in a high tone, banging the mirror next to him, which cracked slightly and had blood on his knuckles.

"Listen, just take a deep breath; it is okay if you want to stop," I attempted to soothe him verbally, but the man seemed to be lost in a distant place.

Sincerely thanking him, I said, "Thank you for believing in me, so that I could help you too."

"My uncle was a jerk who blackmailed my dad and never gave him any support. Ever since that day, I have vowed to work hard and make a lot of money so that people will fear me and work for me," he said, grinning melancholic.

Money does not buy happiness.

Your brother and father were extremely helpful to me when I first arrived in Pakistan, and when I met you, the people you saw me with were not my parents, but rather my neighbours, who also threw me away because I was poor.

I used to work for your dad, but after I got a call from my uncle, who and his daughter had played me, insulting me in front of thousands of people during our engagement and introducing me to her fiancé, I was devastated. Your dad then took me in and gave me his mansion and the capital I needed to start my own business. You should see where I am now, and she comes to me now, demanding to be taken back-never mind her dreams.

"That is like the Khalid I know, and thank you so much for sharing with me. I am sure you will feel relieved as if a burden has been lifted from your shoulders," I explained with a smile, and he nodded.

"I have hurt you so much," he said, his voice filled with concern and sadness, but I smiled because I was happy today.

"I know but you trusted me today is the best day for me. Everything happens for a reason and Allah has planned it from before," I told him as he approached while I moved backwards.

"So maybe Allah had a plan and made us meet again," he said with a mischievous tone.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, raising my brows, and felt something in my finger.

"Putting a ring on my fiance's finger," he said, greeting everyone else in the room, and they all congratulated us, including my friends. I was still surprised, so I just stared at the ring while everyone hugged me.

"What?" I asked, and they just smiled wide.

***
Longest chapter, any confusions??