The door opened.Haseeb stepped inside.
He did not look at anyone.His coat hung loosely on his shoulders. His steps were heavy not tired, but defeated. His eyes were red, not just from tears but from something deeper… something that had collapsed inside him.

Sana’s hand tightened over the edge of the table.
Mr. Isham watched his son carefully. Haseeb walked past them without a word and went straight to his room.Mr. Isham stood after a moment and followed him.

Haseeb sat at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

He did not hear his father enter.
“You okay?” Mr. Isham asked quietly, sitting beside him.

The question was simple.The answer wasn’t.
Haseeb gave a hollow laugh.

“She thinks my love is attachment.”

He turned his head slowly to look at his father. A tear slipped down without permission. Mr. Isham exhaled softly and placed his hand on Haseeb’s shoulder.

“I can’t lose her,” Haseeb whispered.

His voice broke on the word lose.
“But you can’t cage her either,” his father replied gently.

Haseeb swallowed hard, fighting the storm inside him.

“I waited for years,” he said. “I said nothing. I accepted everything. I watched her love someone else. I stood there and prayed for her happiness.”
His jaw tightened.

“And now when I finally speak… I’m wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” Mr. Isham said calmly. “But love doesn’t become right just because it is intense.”

Haseeb’s breathing grew uneven.
“And if she never accepts it?” he asked, restlessness burning in his eyes. “What if she walks away forever?”

Mr. Isham looked at him carefully before speaking.
“If you force your love on her, it will stop being love.”

Silence.
“Let her breathe,” his father continued. “Your words reached her. That much I can see.”

Haseeb’s eyes flickered slightly.
“Now let fate do what it must.”

The word fate lingered in the room.
For the first time since the fountain, Haseeb broke. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his father, sobbing quietly not loudly, not dramatically but like a man who had finally exhausted himself.

Mr. Isham held him firmly. Sometimes, a father does not fix.He simply stands beside.
On the other side of the house, Sana knocked softly before entering Maliha’s room.
Maliha was pacing when she came in.

The moment she saw Sana.

“Khala…”

She rushed into her arms.

Sana held her, stroking her back gently.
“What happened?” she asked softly.

“I… I feel so restless,” Maliha whispered. “I want to go back. As soon as possible.”

Sana’s hand paused slightly.
“So he told you.”

Maliha pulled back immediately.
“You knew?” she asked, stunned.

Sana sighed and walked to sit on the bed.
“We’ve known for years.”

Maliha stared at her.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Sana said gently. “A mother notices when her son stops looking at the world and starts looking at one person.”

Maliha sat slowly.
“You didn’t stop him,” she said, confusion and disbelief mixing in her voice. “He’s living in an illusion and you let him ...”

“Don’t insult his love,” Sana interrupted softly but firmly.

Maliha fell silent.

“It isn’t an illusion,” Sana continued. “He loved you before he even understood what love meant.”

Her voice softened.
“I remember the night he cried in front of me. The night he found out about you and Aarib.”

Maliha’s breath stilled.
“He cried,” Sana said quietly. “Not because he lost you. But because he thought you might be happy… and he wasn’t part of it.”

Tears gathered in Maliha’s eyes.

“But he accepted it,” Sana continued. “He prayed for your happiness. He buried his feelings. He never let you see.”

A pause.

“And when you broke… when everything shattered around you… he couldn’t watch.”

Sana stood and walked toward her.

“That’s why he brought you here. Not to trap you. Not to force you. But to give you space to breathe. To heal.”

Maliha’s thoughts spun wildly.

“We understand your condition,” Sana said gently.

“We are not asking you to answer him tomorrow. We are not forcing you.”

She held Maliha’s face softly between her hands.
“But don’t close the door without even looking through it.”

Her voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“Sometimes happiness doesn’t knock twice.”

Sana stepped back and walked toward the door.

“Give your life a second chance too,” she said before leaving.

The door closed quietly.

Maliha remained standing in the center of the room.Her ticket booked.
Her heart unsettled.
For the first time since the fountain
Doubt entered.
And doubt is far more dangerous than rejection.

--------
It was midnight in Rome.Haseeb was awake.Maliha was awake.

Two rooms apart.
Two storms apart.

Haseeb sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. His eyes burned, but no tears fell now. The crying had exhausted him. What remained was ache.

Across the hall, Maliha stood near the window, curtain slightly pulled aside. The fountain square was empty now. Silent. As if nothing had happened there.

Her ticket was booked.
But her chest felt heavy.
His words echoed.
Don’t leave me.
She pressed her eyes shut.
In one room, love was begging.
In the other, love was being questioned.

Far from the restless winds of Italy, the night breeze of Istanbul moved gently across balconies and quiet streets.

Six months ago, two strangers had arrived in this city carrying silence between them.
Tonight, they lay side by side.

Roshaane was asleep deeply, peacefully. Her fingers rested loosely in Aarib’s hand.
Aarib wasn’t asleep. His eyes were on her.
The evening had been warm. Hikmat and Zainab had come over with gifts and homemade dishes. Laughter had filled the apartment for the first time in days. Roshaane had smiled without exhaustion in her eyes. The redness from the allergy was fading. She looked lighter.
Aarib had felt something he hadn’t allowed himself in days.

Relief.

Later, leaving the women together, he and Hikmat stepped out to check the restaurants. Work had piled up. It took them nearly four hours.
When he returned, the apartment was quiet.
Zainab was watching television softly.
Roshaane had fallen asleep on the couch, her head tilted slightly to one side.

“We’re sorry. We made you wait,” Aarib said.

Zainab just smiled gently. “Take her to the room. The medicines made her drowsy.”
He nodded.

Soon, the door closed behind Hikmat and Zainab.
Silence settled.

Aarib stood there for a second, looking at Roshaane. Then he bent down and lifted her carefully into his arms.She stirred faintly but didn’t wake.He carried her to the bedroom.It was almost midnight.As he leaned to place her on the bed, her fingers tightened weakly around his shirt.

“Aarib…” she whispered.

He froze for a second.

A soft smile appeared on his face.
“I’m here,” he murmured.

He adjusted her gently against the pillow and was about to step back when something stopped him.Instead, he lay down beside her. The room went dark. For a few moments, he just listened to her breathing. Then, hesitantly, almost uncertainly , he reached for her hand. Her fingers curled instinctively around his. He stared at their joined hands in the darkness.

“If this is right…” he whispered to himself.

His gaze moved from their hands to her face.

There was no hesitation in her sleep. No fear. No guarded distance. Just trust. Something shifted inside him. Before he could overthink it, he leaned closer. His lips pressed gently against her forehead.It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t dramatic.
It was quiet. A confession without words.
He stayed there for a second longer than necessary.When he pulled back, his heart was beating differently.

Not confused.
Not divided.
Certain.

The night passed with him awake longer than usual. But this time, he wasn’t lost in memories of what he once had. He was thinking about what he could build. Plans formed quietly in his mind.
Small ones.Future ones. Beside him, Roshaane slept peacefully,  unaware that something inside her husband had finally settled.

In Rome, sleep did not come so easily.
In Istanbul, it did.
Two cities.
Two turning points.
And somewhere between heartbreak and healing, fate was moving its pieces quietly.

------

It was five in the morning. The sky was still dark, the world not fully awake. Maliha hadn’t slept.
She sat on the edge of her bed, shawl wrapped around her shoulders, eyes swollen from a night that refused to end.
A soft knock echoed against her door.

Her breath stilled.
“Maliha.”

His voice.
Gentle. Careful. As if afraid even the wood between them might shatter.

“I know you’re awake,” Haseeb said softly. “Can we talk?”

Silence.

He rested his palm against the door, fingers spreading slightly over the surface.

“I’ll be on the terrace,” he added after a moment. “If… if you come.”

His footsteps retreated slowly. The terrace was cold at that hour. The early dawn wind moved quietly across the rooftops of Rome.
Haseeb stood near the railing, hands in his pockets, staring at the faintest line of light forming at the horizon.

He didn’t pace. He didn’t sit.He simply waited.
And then footsteps.
Soft.
Measured.

He turned.

Maliha stepped onto the terrace. A shawl covered her shoulders. Loose trousers. An oversized shirt. Her hair untied. Her eyes red.
He looked away first. His hands slipped deeper into his pockets. Silence wrapped around them, heavy but not hostile.

For a few long moments, neither of them spoke.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” he said finally.

She shook her head faintly. But she still didn’t speak. He swallowed.

“I heard… you’re leaving this morning.”
The words cost him effort.

She didn’t deny it. Her silence confirmed everything. He nodded once.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, staring at the lawn below. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. Not in the middle of the street. Not… like a madman.”
A weak, self-directed smile touched his lips.

“I must have shocked you.”
Her fingers tightened around her shawl.

“I didn’t mean to force myself into your life,” he continued quietly. “You’re free. In every decision you make.”

His voice was steady.
Too steady.

But his jaw was clenched, betraying the storm underneath. He wanted to ask her to stay.
He wanted to hold her arm again. He wanted to beg. Instead, he stood still.

“I just wanted you to know the truth,” he said softly.

He paused.

The next words stuck in his throat.
He tried again.

“I just wanna…”

The lump in his throat made him stop.
He inhaled slowly, fighting the tears threatening to rise again.

“I’ll wait,” he finished, voice lower now. “As long as it takes.”

She lifted her eyes slightly.

“I don’t know what fate has written for you,” he added. “But I know what it wrote in me.”

His gaze finally met hers.

“I’ll wait for you. Till my last breath.”
There was no drama in his tone.

No demand.
Only certainty.
And then...

He stepped back.He didn’t move closer.He didn’t try to touch her. He simply turned and walked toward the stairs. He didn’t look back. He didn’t trust himself to. The terrace felt emptier after he left. The sky was turning faintly grey. Maliha stood frozen. Her chest hurt in a way she hadn’t expected.She had wanted distance. She had wanted space.

But she hadn’t expected dignity. She hadn’t expected patience. Tears slid down her face silently. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to steady her breathing. After a long moment, she turned and walked back to her room.Her suitcase stood ready.
Ready to leave.

-------

And finally....

She was gone.

The airport had been crowded, loud, alive with departures and reunions. But for them, everything felt distant. Muted. Haseeb stood beside Mr. Isham, hands folded tightly behind his back, as if holding himself together.

Maliha hugged Sana first.

“Khala…” she whispered, and Sana held her longer than usual as if memorizing the weight of her in her arms.

Then she hugged Mr. Isham.

He blessed her softly, his hand resting on her head for a moment. Haseeb waited. Not stepping forward. Not stepping back.
Just waiting.

She turned toward him briefly.
For a second, just a second, he thought she might say something. But she didn’t. She didn’t meet his eyes. She didn’t speak his name.

She didn’t give him the glance he was silently begging for. It wasn’t cruelty. It was self-protection. He understood that.But understanding didn’t make it easier. She adjusted the strap of her bag and turned toward the departure gate. Her steps were steady.She didn’t look back. He watched until she disappeared behind the glass barrier.

Until she was no longer visible.
Until the screen announced boarding closed.
Only then did he breathe.

The drive back home was silent.

Mr. Isham drove.
Haseeb looked out the window, watching the city pass by the same streets where she had walked beside him, where she had laughed, where she had stood under the fountain.

Six months.
Six months of borrowed closeness.
Six months of almost.
It was over.

When they entered the house, the silence felt different now. He walked into the living room and stopped.Her absence was loud.
The couch where she used to sit. The chair near the window. The faint scent she had left behind.
Everything remained.
Except her.

He walked to his room slowly and sat down on the edge of the bed. No tears this time.
Just emptiness.
The happiness of six months had folded itself away quietly. Reality stood in its place. And reality was harsh.They could not be together.

Not now.
Maybe not ever.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. For the first time since confessing, he did not replay the scene. He did not imagine different endings. He simply accepted the silence she had chosen. Sometimes love does not fail because it is weak. It fails because timing is merciless.
Downstairs, Sana wiped her eyes quietly.
Mr. Isham stood by the window, watching his son walk past like a man who had aged overnight.

Upstairs, Haseeb whispered into the empty room.

“I’ll still wait.”
Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just as a promise to himself.
And somewhere above the clouds, a plane cut through the morning sky.

Carrying a woman who had chosen distance and leaving behind a man who had chosen patience.

-------

It was a fine morning.

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, warming the small dining space where Roshaane and Aarib sat across from each other.

Roshaane was eating enthusiastically, completely unconcerned that her mouth was slightly overfilled.

“I want you to drop me at Zainab’s,” she said between bites.

Aarib leaned back slightly, amused. “Finish chewing first.”

She glared at him playfully and swallowed.
He shook his head, hiding his smile.

“I’ve something to tell you,” he said.
She nodded, still reaching for another bite.

He watched her for a second then said casually,
“Do you want to go to Pakistan?”
She froze.

The fork paused midway.
“With me,” he added calmly.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What… do you mean?”

“I was thinking,” he said, resting his elbows on the table, “it’s been six months. We haven’t visited home. Our families must be missing us.”
Her eyes widened.

“You’ve been missing them too,” he continued gently. “So I thought… why not go for a while?”
For a second she just stared at him.

Then

“Really?” she breathed, standing up so suddenly her chair scraped back.

"Careful." He said,standing up to hold her as if she was going to fall.

She squealed, actually squealed and before he could prepare himself, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
It was sudden.
Warm.
Unplanned.

Aarib stiffened for half a second. His hands hovered in the air, uncertain.
Should he hug her back?
Should he not?

But before he could decide, She pulled back slightly and, in her excitement, her lips brushed against his cheek.

Both of them froze.
The air shifted.

It wasn’t intentional.
It wasn’t slow.
It wasn’t even fully placed.
But it happened.

Her eyes widened in horror as realization struck.
He stood still. She stepped back immediately, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, refusing to look at him.

“I....I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to. I was just, I got excited and....”
Her words tangled.

“I’ll go change,” she said quickly and hurried toward the bedroom.
Aarib remained standing there.

Still.
His fingers unconsciously touched the spot on his cheek.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he muttered to himself.
But his heartbeat disagreed.

To shake off the feeling, he began clearing the table, unnecessarily rearranging things that were already in place.

Anything to distract himself.

Inside the room, Roshaane fell face-first onto the bed.

“What have I done?” she groaned into the pillow.

She flipped over, staring at the ceiling.
“What must he be thinking?”

Her hand moved to her chest, feeling her racing heart.

“I need to stay in my senses,” she whispered, taking a deep breath.

After a moment, she stood up and began changing.
Later, they sat in the car.
Silence.
Unusual silence.

Roshaane wasn’t chattering.She stared out of the window.Aarib kept his eyes on the road, though his mind replayed the morning again and again.
He stopped the car but not in front of Zainab’s house. Instead, it was the mall.

She blinked. “Why are we here?”
“Let’s buy gifts for our parents,” he said casually.

Her face brightened again. “Oh! Yes!”

They were about to step out when his phone rang.

It was Hikmat.
Aarib frowned slightly and answered.
“I’m a bit busy....”

He paused, listening carefully.
His expression shifted.

“Okay. I’m coming.”

He ended the call and looked at her apologetically.

“I’ve a meeting with suppliers. Hikmat had to step out, so I need to handle it.”

She nodded. “It’s fine. I’ll shop. Call me when you’re free.”

He nodded.
She stepped out of the car and began walking toward the entrance. But then
She stopped.

Turned.
Looked at him.
Their eyes met.

For a second, the memory of the morning passed silently between them. Her heartbeat quickened again. She gave a small wave. He lifted his hand in return.She turned and walked inside the mall. He watched her disappear through the glass doors. Then he exhaled slowly and started the engine.

On his cheek, the warmth still lingered.
And for the first time...
It didn’t feel accidental.

A/N:: Hi lovelies!

I’m back with the update, just like I promised 🤍

I’ll try my best to update daily, but I need lots and lots of comments if you want the next day’s update! I absolutely love reading your thoughts, your reactions, your theories, they honestly make my day and motivate me to write more.

So here I am with another update. I truly hope you enjoyed it!

The next update will be tomorrow, InshaAllah.

Shower your love… and yes, shower me with plenty of comments too!

With love,
Your Author 💌