17th June, 2020

Day 400.

I've been counting the days since you left. And now, after what felt like a lifetime of silence, you're finally back.

If joy could be put into words, I still wouldn't be able to describe what I felt the moment I saw you. But here's the catch-I may be back under your roof, but not in your heart. Isn't that cruelly poetic?

A lone tear escaped from Eram's eye, smudging the ink on the page of her diary. Her hand trembled as she wrote.

Every day without you felt endless... but now, being beside you and still feeling miles away-it's far more unbearable. I don't know if I'm capable of bridging this distance anymore. But I want to try. No-I need to try.

You haven't been taking care of yourself, Shumail. I can see it. You look tired. Worn. And yet, you kept moving forward. With that same calm smile that hurts to look at now.

How am I supposed to earn your forgiveness for the pain I caused? How do I hold out a hand toward someone I shattered?

You've been nothing but a blessing in my life, and I've been nothing short of a storm in yours. And still... you accepted me into your Nikkah. You gave me your name.

I was broken. I walked into your life and ended up breaking you too. But now... I want to heal what I wounded. I want to rebuild what I ruined.

So I'll keep taking steps toward you-until you stop stepping back and finally hold my hand again. Please, Shumail. Let me in.

Her shoulders trembled as sobs escaped her lips. She closed the diary with a gentle thud, sliding the pen between the pages and pushing it under her pillow. Her hand covered her mouth to muffle the sounds of her heartbreak. The lump in her throat had become a familiar ache by now.

It was only the evening of her second day back from the hospital, and yet it felt like she had aged ten years emotionally. She sat on Shumail's bed-their bed-surrounded by walls that once knew warmth but now stood as cold witnesses to the quiet between them.

She muttered through her tears, "I really wish we'd met under different circumstances... If we were destined to cross paths, why like this, ya Allah?"

The door creaked.

Panicked, she wiped her tears, smoothed back her hair, and quickly shoved the diary deeper under her pillow. She looked up just in time to see Shumail enter.

He wore a navy-blue oversized shirt that hid his arms up to the fingertips and a pair of loose black track pants that somehow made his already infuriatingly effortless charm worse. He had reading glasses on, and his hair was side-parted-two strands rebelliously falling across his forehead. He looked like a walking Pinterest board of "accidental heartthrob."

Eram's lips curled into a soft smile. Her eyes involuntarily softened.

But Shumail, with practiced ease, looked right past her.

Not coldly. Not rudely. Just... as if she were furniture. Perhaps a particularly inconvenient chair.

He didn't say a word. He walked into the room, set his files on the study table, and slipped inside his study with a quiet click of the door.

Eram's smile vanished. Her heart didn't break-it folded into itself.

A few minutes later, he walked out again with a few files. She kept looking at him, her eyes quietly screaming, Talk to me. Please look at me. Say anything.

"Hi," she blurted, her voice trembling like a violin string.

He stopped. Didn't turn. Just... stopped.

"I suppose we're not on talking terms where we can say 'hi' like normal people?" he said over his shoulder, voice dry and flat. "I'd prefer you didn't."

"I know," she said quickly, desperate to keep him there, even if just with a lie. "I... I need your help."

"I'll send the nurse."

And he walked out.

Ouch, she thought. Death by politeness. Classic Shumail.

Two Days Later

Shumail had perfected the art of ghosting someone without technically leaving. He returned only at night, slept on the couch, and left before sunrise. No eye contact. No words. Just the gentle breeze of his absence.

Zain, at least, was around-talking, giggling, being a chaotic human sponge. If it weren't for him, Eram might have slipped into madness or worse-watched Shumail's old interviews on YouTube for comfort.

But tonight, she had a plan. A plan that involved mild deception, strategic drama, and a very uncomfortable couch.

She had asked the nurse to help her to the couch-deliberately arranging herself like a tragic heroine in a soap opera: neck tilted awkwardly, arm dangling slightly off the side, and a blanket draped so it looked accidental but aesthetic. If Shumail didn't at least blink at this, she would consider applying to acting school.

The door opened.

Footsteps.

Eram kept her eyes shut.

She heard him set his iPad down, remove his shoes, and sigh as he headed to the closet. A few minutes later, he walked to the bathroom.

When he returned-now in comfier clothes-he walked to the bed to grab his pillow... and paused.

Gotcha.

She heard the faint intake of breath. Then soft footsteps toward the couch. Then silence.

When she dared to squint through her lashes, she found him kneeling beside her.

Shumail stared at her sleeping form, his eyes tracing the shadows beneath hers, the paleness of her cheeks, the slight furrow in her brows even in pretend sleep.

'I wonder how things would've been if we'd met in different circumstances,' he thought.

His hand reached out instinctively. He brushed the strands off her face and tucked them gently behind her ear.

Eram nearly died inside.

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure it had developed a mic and speaker. Her entire body tingled from the warmth of his touch.

Then he hesitated-clearly torn.

He fetched the duvet to cover her but stopped. The couch looked so ridiculously uncomfortable, even his emotional detachment had limits.

With a sigh, he slipped his arms under her and picked her up. She tried her best not to squeal. He placed her gently on the bed, covered her with the duvet, and was about to walk away when-

She grabbed his hand.

Gently. As if in sleep. Her cheek pressing into his palm, like it was her favorite pillow.

Shumail froze. He tried to pull back, but her grip-though weak-was stubborn.

He sat on the bed beside her, defeated.

"Is it okay for me to come to you?" he whispered, his voice so low it was barely audible. "Will I get hurt again?"

Eram's heart broke into sharp glittering pieces.

She wanted to sit up and say, No. Never again. Come back to me. I love you.

But she stayed still. Let him speak his truth without interruption.

Shumail exhaled, long and tired. He lay beside her, keeping a safe distance, yet not removing his hand from under her cheek.

Eventually, his breathing evened out.

Once sure he was asleep, Eram opened her eyes.

She studied his features in the moonlight-the strong jaw, the worry lines near his brows, the silent battle beneath his closed lids.

She whispered, "It's okay for you to come to me. And I'll wait. However long it takes, I'll wait."

Her fingers brushed his stubbled jaw gently. She inched closer to him, her heart full yet aching.

For the first time in over a year, she fell asleep smiling, wrapped not in his arms-but in the hope of them.

The Morning After

Shumail sat at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the floor-but his mind was far from tranquil.

What the hell did I just do?

He rubbed his eyes, half-hoping that what he remembered was a dream. But the faint pressure in his arm, the lingering warmth on his wrist-remnants of Eram's cheek resting on him all night-made it all too real. His other hand, out of habit, went up to touch his jaw, as if searching for the echo of her hand there.

Last night had been a moment of weakness. That's what he told himself.

He hadn't meant to get that close. He just... didn't have the heart to leave her curled up on that uncomfortable couch like some neglected porcelain doll.

He hadn't expected her to tug his hand like that. He hadn't expected to let her.

And he certainly hadn't expected to sleep with her-albeit separated by an awkward six-inch pillow moat-like they were just a normal married couple.

What part of me is still holding on?

He got up slowly and walked to the mirror. The man staring back at him didn't look unfamiliar. Same tousled hair. Same neutral expression. Same carefully composed indifference. But today, he felt... exposed. Not vulnerable-no, never that. But as if someone had quietly unlocked a door inside him that he'd triple-locked months ago.

"She's sneaky," he muttered to himself with a scoff, grabbing his toothbrush. "Pulls the ol' 'sleep-on-the-couch-like-an-adorable-injured-heroine' act, huh? Classic. And I fell for it like a rookie."

He paused. His toothbrush still in hand. Eyes narrowed at the mirror.

"She is adorable, though."

He groaned.

This is dangerous.

The quieter parts of his mind were warring with each other. One part was scolding him for not sticking to his cold, calculated distance. The other was questioning if he even wanted to anymore.

She looked peaceful last night. Like she belonged there-like she belonged with him.

But just because she looked peaceful didn't mean she wasn't the same Eram who kept things from him. The Eram who broke his trust. The Eram who had given him years' worth of questions and no damn answers.

"Am I seriously getting soft because she fell asleep on my bicep? Pathetic," he muttered.

But even that sarcasm couldn't mask the truth: the warmth had felt nice.

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that. Being needed. Being trusted. Even in silence.

But can I trust her again?

He turned away from the mirror and got dressed in quiet efficiency, his every move crisp, controlled, calculated-as if putting on his armor again.

The moment he walked out of the room, he was Shumail Ibrahim again. Calm. Composed. Untouchable. The man who didn't let anyone too close-not even the woman who wore his name.

But deep down, he knew.

The fortress around his heart had a crack now. A hairline fracture made in the shape of Eram Shumail Ibrahim.

And he hated how a part of him wanted her to break through it completely.

Assalamualaikum!

Yes, its me! Please don't be angry #.#

Since I updated, you might have already guessed that When You Came Along is finally finished and I've submitted it to the publisher. In sha Allah it will be in your hands soon. Who's excited?? ;)

Coming back to the chap..how was it?? Yes Eram kissed him!! Omg! My hearteu ♡

Chapter dedicated to NawazButt0 AKANKSHAPARIHAR4 Zohahanam zoya786123 fathimawafa_10 zeenat534 SumayyahBintMusa
You guys are just so amazing...your constant msgs, comments made me smile so big always ♡

Until next time...annyeong!