Zain took a deep breath, the weight of his past pressing down on him. “When my father was younger, he was forced to marry my mother because she was rich. My grandfather was a well-known man in the city, owning two big companies, and my mother had her own business too. It was all about money and power.”

He paused, the memories sharp and painful. “But just one month after they got married, everything fell apart. My mother lost her company, and my grandfather—who everyone thought was untouchable—lost everything. He was caught up in some criminal activities, accused of tax fraud and worse. They stripped him of all his assets. We lost everything—the mansion, the money, their status. My mother was left with nothing.”

Zain’s voice wavered as he continued. “That’s when my grandfather died of a heart attack, and my mother was left with only my father. But the marriage was never about love. When the money was gone, my father started hating her, resenting her. He only respected her when she was wealthy, but after that… he treated her terribly, yelling at her, making her life hell.”

Zain’s eyes were glassy, but he pressed on. “My mother couldn’t take it anymore. She was ready to divorce him, she had some savings left, and she was about to leave. But the day she was going to hand him the divorce papers, she found out she was pregnant… with me.”

Zain’s voice cracked as he continued. “She stayed with him, Arish. She stayed because of me. She wanted me to have a father, to have a family. She endured all his abuse, all his cruelty, just so I wouldn’t grow up without a father.”

He swallowed hard, his throat tight. “My dad didn’t even let her work. He burned her degrees so she couldn’t do anything on her own. She suffered all of that for me, because I was her only reason to live.”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. “When I was seven, my dad came home drunk one night. My mom was out, and it was just the two of us. He started hitting me, hard. I was bleeding by the time he was done, but when my mom got back, he lied. Told her I’d fallen.

Zain’s voice wavered, the pain of those memories still fresh. “A year later, when I was eight, my mom caught him cheating on her. She couldn’t take it anymore. She decided to divorce him, took me away to a different city with what little savings she had. She worked day and night, just to keep me in school, to make sure we had enough to live on. It was awful, watching her struggle like that.”

His fists clenched as he spoke. “When I was sixteen, my father called. He told my mom I should come back to live with him, that I’d have a better future with him. My mom refused, but he took her to court. And the court sided with him because she was barely making it. They didn’t even ask me what I wanted. They didn’t care. He paid them off. Corruption, you know?”

Zain’s voice softened, filled with bitterness. “My mom and I were devastated when I had to leave her and go to Milan. I lived with my father for two years, but when I turned seventeen, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I moved out, decided to live on my own. Now, I see my mom every six months, if I’m lucky.”

He looked Arish in the eyes, his voice firm. “And you think I’m lucky? That I had it easy? You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

Arish sat in stunned silence, the weight of Zain’s story settling heavily on his shoulders. For the first time, he saw Zain not as an enemy, but as someone who had suffered too.

“I’m sorry, Zain,” Arish murmured, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay,” Zain said softly. “We all have our own battles.”

Arish hesitated, then began to share his story, his voice shaky. “Zain, my dad was abusive too. He hurt my mom and me for years until she finally left him when I was ten. But few days ago, I found out something that shattered everything. My father had a mistress during their marriage, and they had a daughter—my half-sister, Aria. She’s the same age as me. He was cheating on my mom while she was pregnant with me.”

Arish’s voice cracked as he continued. “I don't know how to deal with it. I hate him for what he did to us, and I hate Aria too, even though it’s not her fault. I just feel like my whole life’s been a lie.”

Ewan, who had been keeping an eye on them from a distance, saw the two of them crying . He knew he had to step in. Gently, he helped them both up, guiding them out of the bar.

Ewan decided to take Arish to Zain’s place. He knew that if Arish went home in this state, his mother would be stressed and worried. Zain was reluctant at first, but Ewan insisted.

That night, as they all stumbled back to Zain’s apartment, the weight of their shared stories hung heavy in the air. But for the first time, Zain and Arish felt like they weren’t alone in their pain.