Maryam's POV

"Mamma, please! Open the door! I'm going to be late for school!" I pounded on the door, my knuckles aching from the continuous knocking. Ten, twenty, a hundred times – I lost count. But the silence remained, deafening.

No gentle voice, no reassuring smile, no warm hug. Just emptiness.

My small body shaken with fear and frustration. Why wasn't she answering?

Panic crept in, my breath quickening. What if something happened to her?

I rattled the doorknob, desperate for a response. Still, nothing.

Tears streamed down my face as I slumped against the door, defeated.

"Mamma..." My voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

But you didn't answer.

When Dad break opened the door, my world shattered.

You weren't in the room.

You left me alone in this vast, cruel world.

You left your Love alone.

Eight years have passed Mamma,but the pain remains.

I've relived that horror through nightmares countless times, Mamma.

Tonight was no different.The nighmare returned and,with it ,the suffocating panic.

These panic attacks started after that cursed day,Mamma.

Eight years of waking up in the dead bed,drenched in sweat.

Eight years of gasping for air.

Eight years of reliving that horrific moment.

I have always tried to hide it,to mask the pain but its always there.

Each time, the pain deepens.

Each time, the regret suffocates me.

Why didn't I save you?

I knew something was wrong between you and Dad.

I did nothing.

I'm so sorry, Mamma.

But I'm also upset with you.

You were my hero.

Why didn't you fight?

Tonight I am watching New yorks bustling streets from my window.

These bright lights cant chase away the darkness.This city never sleeps and neither do I.

The memories haunt me, as vivid as ever.

Your absense still feels like an open wound.

I heard footsteps coming towards me and quickly hid the journal in my book, pretending to study. Tears streamed down my face, a familiar reaction whenever I read Samar's diary.

I made a firm decision to read it after I found samar so broken in his study room watching his dead mothers clips I thought that there is something wrong about her death.

Now, as I read his words, I'm shocked and traumatized. His father's betrayal cuts deep.

He cheated on his wife, took over her wealth, and married the woman he had an affair with. Samar's mother succumbed to depression and overdosed on sleeping pills.

Samar was only 11.

My heart aches for that little boy.

I want to hug him, hold him close, and heal his pain.

But some wounds never heal.

I used to wonder why Samar hated his father.

Now I understand.

That man is worthy of contempt.

I feel a mix of emotions: anger, sadness, and empathy.

Anger towards his father for destroying their family.

Sadness for Samar's lost childhood.

Empathy for the pain he still endures.

Samar walks into the living room, his hair damp from the rain, and he settles onto the couch. He look so clean freshly showered.

"Arent you sleepy, love?" he asks, his voice gentle.

I shake my head, trying to compose myself. "No, I'll study."

"Okay," he replies, his eyes lingering on me for a moment but I ignore eye contact.

He pause then speaks again, "I asked Faris to move into the new apartment. The movers will shift everything tomorrow."He told me

I nod, managing a weak "Okay."

My mind is still reeling from the diary entries.

"The date was perfect," Samar says, running his hand through his hair, a hint of a smile on his face.

"You're serious?" I reply, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn't you say I purposefully ruin your dates,today by rain?" I tease.

Samar's blush deepens. "Well, that made the date romantic."

I roll my eyes. "There's nothing romantic, okay."

Samar chuckles, his eyes sparkling. "I'll FaceTime you every day."

"I'll be busy," I say, flipping through my notes, trying to appear nonchalant.

Samar's grin persists. "I'll make it quick, I promise."

I glance up, our eyes meeting.

Suddenly, I see a different Samar.

An 11-year-old boy, pounding on his mother's door.

Pleading for her to open it.

Tears streaming down his face.

My heart constricts, remembering the pain he endured.

The loneliness, the abandonment.

The diary entries flash through my mind.

As I focus on my notes, Samar's gaze never wavers from mine, his eyes filled with a deep affection and I feel overwhelmed and accountable to his feelings.I feel like i am not worth of his love and affection.The weight of his emotions crushing me.

I sneeze twise .Samar swiftly adjust the air conditioner with the remote.

"Someone wasn't fragile to catch a cold in the rain," he teases.

"It's not cold," I roll my eyes.

Samar's gaze lingers, his eyes searching mine.

Its been silence for minutes.I am writing my test.I glance up to find him watching me intently,as if I am the most fascinating thing in the world.

"When's your flight?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"Tomorrow at 11 am," Samar responds, his voice deep.

I check the time. "It's already 12; go and sleep. It's a three-hour test."

"I won't bother you," he replies. "I just want to look at you."

"Why?" I ask, my voice gentle.

" I am leaving for a month,I need to see you, Love." I see the desperation in his eyes, the longing.

"You are weird ."I try to portray that I dont care but deep down I do.In this stranger family I feel a belonging to him.I cant deny I am sad that he is leaving for a month.

"Describe the key features of Mauryan pillars," I read aloud in my head.

As I begin to write, Samar's gaze never wavers. His piercing eyes seem to hold a deep affection, making me uncomfortable.

I scribble "polished sandstone," trying to focus.

But my eyes drift back to Samar. His sharp jawline, straight nose, and his lips captivate me. I notice the subtle curve of his eyebrows, the gentle slope of his nose.

My pen pauses mid-air. Why am I noticing these things?

Samar's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, his gaze still locked on mine.

"Mauryan pillars have... um..." I stutter, losing my train of thought.

His eyes seem to bore into mine, searching for something. I feel a flutter in my chest.

No, no, no! Focus!

I write "carvings" hastily.

But Samar's chiseled features dominate my thoughts. His dark hair, perfectly messy, frames his face.

Maryam,the question is not Describe the facial feature of Samar Ibrahim.

I focus again.

"Depicting scenes from..." My words trail off.

Samar's eyes sparkle, his gaze never leaving mine.

Why can't he look away?

My pataince gave up I say " Samar,can we do this later.I am unable to focus."

"Whats wrong,Love.Are you distracted.Dont flatter me ,Am I a distraction to you."He flirts.

" Leave me alone." I say with a straight face.

He switch on the tv,volume low and says to me," Just pretend I am watching TV."

"Are you serious,How can I pretend when I know that you will be looking at me."

"Try it,Love."

It worked ,it actually did work.I am half through my test. I am exhauted i take a 5 mins break and put my head down on the table my hand is hurting by writing so much since morning.I have written 8 hours till now.

"Are you tired"Samar asks,his voice laced with concern.

Before I can respond,he gently takes my hand,cracking my knuckles with a soothing touch.

"Your hand is frozen"he observes,his finger tracing mine.

" I am really sleepy." I reply.

"You need coffee" his smile so warm.

He dissapear into the kitchen and returns with a steaming cup,the aroma of it delicious.

He hand me the coffee,I take a sip,savouring the  rich flavour.

"Thanks "I say,meeting his eyes.

"No need,Love"His smile softens.

...................

As I carry the dishes from the kitchen to Anaya's dinner table, my mind swirls with conflicting thoughts since Samar's departure for Hong Kong.

"He must have felt bad," a voice in my head says. "It was just a hug, Maryam. You shouldn't have refused."

"But I didn't say no," another voice replies.

"You didn't even say yes," the first voice counters.

My mind is still in constant conflict. I convince myself I didn't hurt Samar.

"What if I did? "

"What if he's mad at me? "

"He can't..."

" I think he is... "

"He hasn't phone-called me yet."

"But he did text "I'm arrived."

"That means he is mad at me otherwise he would have texted" I am arrived,Love."

I put the bowl down on the table and hold my head.

"Stop overthinking, Maryam. It's not a big deal. It's not your fault. Why did he expect you to give him a goodbye hug at the first place? If he wanted it, he should have hugged me himself."

"Maryam, what? Why are you standing like a statue?"Anaya touchs my shoulder.

"Nothing," I say, and hastily retreat to the kitchen, pretending to bring something.

"I should call him and find out if he's mad," I think to myself.

I call Samar again, but he doesn't pick up. Frustration mounts as I dial his number sixth time, only to be met with silence.

"It's confirmed," I think. "He's mad at me."

Just then, the doorbell breaks the tension. Anaya and Faris are busy setting up their new room, so I head to answer the door.

As I open it, my eyes widen in surprise. Rayan stands before me, dressed in a sleek black shirt and jeans, exuding the charm of a modern prince.

"Hi, Maryam," he says with a warm smile.

"Hi" I reply, still thinking about how hard is it to ignore Rayan when we live in the same building and belong to same family now.His mothers words still  click my mind every now and then.I tried my best to stay away from but it seems like he is inevitable.

"Rayan," I say, still unsure how to react.

"Do you want me to stay here for the night? At least ask me to come in," Rayan smiles mischievously, awaiting my response.

Before I can reply, Anaya's squeal interrupts from behind me.

"Look, Faris, our neighbor!" she exclaims.

Rayan effortlessly strides past me, greeting Anaya and Faris with charm.

Rayan flashes me a triumphant smile.

As we savor dinner, the conversation flows effortlessly. Faris and Rayan's camaraderie is infectious, while Anaya and Rayan's banter is playful.

"Food is delicious,Thanks for inviting me for dinner." Rayan praises.

"Thanks," Anaya beams. "I prepared this dinner specially for you. I'm kinda tired, but Maryam helped me."

"by  bringing food to the dinner table."Rayan makes fun of me.

Everyone erupts into laughter.

After dinner, we migrate to the picturesque balcony. The evening air is crisp, filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

But my mind is elsewhere,on samar,in hong kong.

Anaya's phone rings, "Why is Samar calling me?" she says, looking confused. She picks up the phone and turns to me, saying, "He's been calling you. Why aren't you answering?"

I remember I forgot my phone on the kitchen counter.

" I left my phone inside," I exclaim.

I hastily get up and head to the kitchen to retrieve my phone.

My phone lies on the counter, flashing with missed calls from Samar.

I feel a mix of relief and anxiety.

I was about to call him when i get his call.I try to maintain my nonchalant tone, but Samar's warmth seeps through the phone.

"Where are you, Love? Is everything all right?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"Yes, everything's fine. I was just checking if you're alive," I reply, attempting to sound unbothered.

"Unfortunately, I am,"Samar chuckles, his smile palpable through the line.

"Why weren't you picking up?"I asks.

"My phone was on silent mode.I got a mini heart attack seeing your six missed calls," he explains.

I soften slightly, picturing him worried.

"Why didn't you call after landing? " I say, a hint of criticism creeping into my tone.

"I did text you."

"Great favor you did by sending those three words," I add.

Samar teases, "I thought I should let you enjoy your freedom."

"It's only been 10 hours, Love. You're already missing me," he says, his voice low and playful.

"Delusional," I say with a laugh.

Samar chuckles, and I hear muffled conversation in the background. A female voice.

"Have you found a girlfriend there?" I tease, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Not yet," Samar replies, his tone playful.

The female voice speaks up again, and Samar responds briefly before returning to our conversation.

"Where are you, anyway?" I ask, intrigued.

" at a business dinner," he explains.

I envision him in a sleek suit, commanding attention.

Our conversation flows easily, and I feel my earlier tension dissappearing.

Talking to him finally got me out of the regret of not giving him a goodbye hug.

He's normal, he's not mad at me, I reassure myself.

As we wrap up the call, Samar's parting words makes me feel something strange.

"Sleep tight, Love. Missing you."

My return to the balcony coincides with Anaya and Faris's disappearance, leaving Rayan standing alone, his back to me. The moon casts an air of secrecy, and I wonder what thoughts occupy his mind.

"Hey, how are you?" I ask, genuinely interested.

Rayan turns, his eyes locking onto mine, and smiles softly. "I'm good, thanks."

We stand side by side, the moon casting an intimate ambiance. Our conversation flows effortlessly, covering life's basics.

"How are your exams coming along?" Rayan inquires.

"Stressful, but manageable," I reply.

"And your preparations?" he presses on.

"I'm trying to stay focused," I admit.

Rayan shares updates on NGO work, and I listen intently. Our discussion is easy, like no time has passed.

As we talk, I'm struck by the surrealness of it all. Rayan and the moon – once the only things I desired – now feel tangled in complexity.

As we converse, I mention Ahana's birthday invitation.

Rayan's expression turns serious. "Don't go," he advises.

I raise an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Stay away from her as well."He adds but i am confused.

Rayan's eyes lock onto mine, his gaze intense. "Do you believe me?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes."

The simplicity of my response seems to satisfy him.

"She isnt a good person."He reply but i dont feel that way ,she is nice to me however i am gonna belive him cuz I know he cares about me.

Just then, Anaya returns to the balcony and our comversation remain unfinished.

...............

Two weeks have passed since Samar left for Hong Kong, My days blend together in a monotony of studying and longing.

When I'm not immersed in books, I find myself lost in Samar's journal. His words, filled with loneliness and yearning, bring tears to my eyes.

Anaya's apartment provides a temporary escape, where we indulge in K-dramas and laughter.

The doorbell breaks the spell, and Anaya gets up to answer it. She returns with a bouquet of white lilies.

"Your daily parcel," Anaya says with a smile.

"Again?" I ask, shaking my head.

Samar's love letters, accompanied by flowers, have become a daily ritual.When I asked why is he sending me a new type of flower beouquet with his hand written letters everyday.
"I don't want you to forget me," he'd said over the phone, his words tinged with vulnerability.

I chuckle at the absurdity – Samar being my husband, struggling with an existential crisis, fearing I'll forget him.

As I open the letter,

"Day 14 without you feels like a year. Yesterday we went to a bakery for coffee and I missed you there even bakeries make me remeber you. How are you, Love?"

Anaya notices my smile. "He is traping you,to fall in love with him. No wonder you're struggling to handle him."

"You have no idea," I say, rolling my eyes.

Anaya nods. "You're selfish, filling your apartment with all these bouquets. Let's put these in my vase."

I laugh, bringing the flowers to her kitchen.

As I arrange the flowers, Anaya's phone beeps, catching my attention. I glance at the screen and see Ayesha's messages.

Ayesha: "Don't tell Maryam about this. We'll handle it."

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I scroll through their previous conversation.

Ayesha: "She's already spread bad rumors about Maryam. Now Maryam's married, what does she want?"

Ayesha: "Women like her have no shame. How can she spread rumors about Maryam having an affair with Rayan?"

Anaya: "She just hates Maryam."

My eyes widen in shock, tears welling up. I've been the subject of vicious gossip among my relatives, and the reason is utterly false.

Hearing Anaya's approach, I quickly compose myself, hiding my turmoil.

Anaya enters, grabs her phone, and says, "Lilies are my favorite."

I force a weak smile, struggling to contain my emotions.