20th August, 2019

Eram's eyes fluttered open, her gaze fixated on the plain white ceiling above her. She remained still, unwilling to leave the warmth of her bed, though it no longer felt like comfort. The pillow, once cozy and safe, now felt hollow—probably because it wasn't her pillow anymore. It had been his arm, his steady heartbeat beneath her ear, that once lulled her to sleep. At that thought, tears brimmed in her eyes and slipped silently into the pillow.

The soft rustle of blankets and the thump of one falling to the floor snapped her out of her trance. She quickly wiped her tears, sat up, and tied her hair into a hasty bun. Pulling her dupatta over her head, she stepped out of bed and picked up the fallen blanket from the single bed in front of hers.

"Zain," she whispered, sitting beside her thirteen-year-old brother. "Time to wake up." She gently shook him and adjusted his awkward sleeping position, smoothing his hair with sisterly affection. "It's school time, Zain. Come on, wake up already."

Every time she looked at him, a surge of gratitude filled her chest. Winning his custody back had been her greatest battle. After their parents' death, Zain had been taken away by the Child Welfare Association. She had been declared unfit to care for him due to her lack of income. The nightmares that haunted her—of him being adopted by strangers, his tear-streaked face reaching out for her—those had left lasting scars. There were days she woke up breathless, suffocating from panic attacks.

She had been utterly alone. No one to hold her hand. No job that paid decently. No escape. The final notice from the association had shattered her: prove your financial stability in six months, or your brother is gone forever.

Maybe that was why she did what she did.

"Why did you lie to me?"

His voice. Calm. Icy.

Shumail stood with his back facing her, his hands clasped behind him, but she could feel the weight of his stare over his shoulder. Eram froze.

She felt exposed, like a thief caught red-handed. All this time, she'd thought she was cleverly hiding her truth, that he was unaware. But now... now it turned out he had known all along. Her lips trembled, eyes cast down to the floor.

"How... how was I supposed to tell you?" Her voice came out like a breath, barely audible, as if her lungs couldn't carry the weight of truth.

He didn't turn.

"Even after I asked you outright, you looked me in the eye and lied."

The calm in his voice wasn't soothing. It was terrifying. It was the kind of quiet before a storm that uproots lives.

"I'm sorry," she choked, tears finally breaking free, pouring down her cheeks like floodgates had given way.

"Sorry doesn't wipe the slate clean, Eram." His voice was low, restrained, but unmistakably firm. "You didn't trust me with your truth—and yet, you used my name, my roof, my money to build your lie."

She flinched.

"But even if you didn't trust me, I wasn't going to sit idle while an innocent life was at stake."

Her brows furrowed. Innocent life?

"Zain," he said, finally turning his head slightly. "You lied about him. I knew who he was the very beginning. I asked, hoping you would be honest. You weren't."

Eram's knees buckled. So he had known. All along. The entire charade, he had seen through it. But instead of confrontation, he had chosen silence.

"If I hadn’t married you, they would have taken him away from you. And I couldn't let that happen, even if you thought so little of me."

Maybe that was why he did what he did.

"Aapi?" Zain's voice pulled her back. He was awake now, staring at her tear-streaked face with worried eyes. "Why are you crying?"

She wiped her cheeks and tried to smile. "It's nothing."

"Missing Shumail bhai?" he asked with a teasing grin. She looked at him, heart breaking, and gave a small nod.

"I miss him too. When is he coming back?"

What am I supposed to tell you?

She pulled him into her arms, hiding her tears in his shoulder. "Soon, In Sha Allah. He'll be back soon."

After dropping Zain off at school, Eram caught the rickety bus to her workplace. His school was a five-minute walk from her parents' house, where she and Zain now lived. But her workplace was a draining thirty-minute bus ride away. She had no time for complaints.

If not for Shumail...

She didn't even know how to thank him. Despite everything, despite the betrayal, he continued to financially support Zain's schooling. Without it, she couldn't have gotten him into a decent institution. Her two jobs—receptionist by day and tutor by evening—barely covered their food and rent.

He was still helping her. Not out of love. Not out of pity. But for Zain. Because he was too noble to let an innocent child suffer.

She didn't deserve his kindness.

Her routine was a blur. Office. School pickup. Drop Zain at daycare—the one that bent rules for her because of Mrs. Maria's empathy. Then she rushed to give tutoring lessons to a spoiled high schooler. Then back to collect Zain, always the last child waiting.

And still, every single day, without fail, she would stop by the Ibrahim mansion. Just to ask the guard one question:

"Has he come back yet?"

Every single time, the answer was the same.

No.

Shumail was gone.

Where? No one knew.

Did she miss him?

More than anything.

Had she fallen in love?

Only after losing him.

That night, after offering her prayer, she sat still on the prayer mat, the only time in her day when she felt truly at peace. She begged her Rabb for guidance. For strength. For a second chance.

She folded her mat and placed it back. The door creaked open, and Zain entered.

"Homework done?" she asked.

"A little," he muttered, dropping onto his bed.

"What happened?"

"I miss Shumail bhai."

Me too.

She didn't say it out loud. Just walked to her bed and sat quietly.

"When will he come back, Aapi?"

She hesitated. "He's busy with work. That's why it's taking him time."

"Can you call him? I want to talk."

Her throat tightened.

She wanted to scream. To cry. To demand answers herself. But she swallowed the ache.

"He might be busy. We shouldn't disturb him, hmm?"

Zain's face fell.

"Okay, don't be sad or he won't send your favourite sports car."

His eyes lit up. "He will?"

"Only if you promise not to get sad."

"But I still miss him."

"He misses you too. And he'll be back soon, In Sha Allah."

He fell asleep with a soft smile. She stepped out, closed the door behind her, and dialed a number she'd memorized by heart.

Aahil picked up on the third ring.

"Assalamualaikum bhai... any news?" Her voice cracked with desperation.

A deep sigh was her answer.

"Because of me, his entire life shattered, didn't it?" she asked, closing her eyes as silent tears streamed down.

"You really shouldn't have done that to him, Eram," Aahil replied. "You broke him completely."

The call ended.

And she broke again.

Give me one chance, Shumail. Please.

Assalamualaikum guys

I know I'm late. Couldn't find time to write down.
I hope you understand.
The chap is not edited so please bear with me -_-'

Coming back to chap..
Who's excited? Me!!!

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Until next time...gule gule!