The hospital lawn was unusually peaceful for a place that had witnessed so much fear the previous night. A cool breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the faint scent of wet grass. The night sky was clear, the moon bright and watchful above them.

Aarib and Maliha stood a few feet apart.
Both faced forward, toward the dimly lit lawn. Neither looked at the other.

“You’ve changed,” she said softly.
He didn’t respond.

His arms were folded behind his back, posture straight, expression unreadable.
The silence stretched.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” she asked, this time turning toward him. “Or are you ignoring me willingly?”

He exhaled slowly.

“I don’t think there’s anything left between us for me to act like I’m ignoring you,” he replied calmly, still not looking at her.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her coat.

“We can be friends,” she said, almost pleading. “We always were.”

This time he turned.

His eyes met hers and for a second, he forgot how to blink.
Six months.

Six months of trying to erase her face from his memory and there she was, standing exactly the same. His heart betrayed him for a second. He looked down almost immediately, as if the eye contact had burned him.

“I don’t remember any friendship,” he said quietly but firmly. “I just remember how you gave up on me.”

The words hit harder than she had expected.

For a split second, something cracked inside him.
His eyes burned, tears rising instantly, stubborn, uninvited. He clenched his jaw and swallowed them back, refusing to let them fall. He kept his gaze lowered, knowing too well that if he looked up at her, even once, the walls he had built so carefully might collapse.

Because somewhere deep, buried beneath pride and pain, she still had that effect on him.

One look.

One tremble in her voice.
And he could forget everything.

Forget the hurt.

Forget the nights he spent convincing himself it was over.

Forget the way she had walked away.

Maybe she was still there in some quiet corner of his heart. Or maybe he was trying, with all his strength, to push her out, to make room for a life that had already begun moving forward without her.

Shehe inhaled, ready to respond.But before she could speak, he muttered under his breath.

“I think we shouldn’t cross paths like this anymore. I’m a married man now.”

The words felt heavy the moment they left his mouth and as he said them, his thoughts drifted not to the past standing in front of him but to the present lying in that hospital room.

Roshaane.

Pale. Fighting. Breathing through pain.

The image of her, fragile yet holding on, flashed in his mind.

And something shifted.
Instantly.

The confusion. The pull. The ache that had tried to rise again.

It quieted.

Not because it never existed. But because something stronger replaced it. Her face. Her stubborn smile. Her trembling fingers holding his hand. The love that had once threatened to resurface faded into the background, as if gently pushed aside by a new reality. Unintentionally, a slow breath slipped from his lips.

Steady.

Grounded.

He lifted his gaze this time almost testing himself.Testing whether he would falter. But he didn’t. He didn’t forget. He didn’t drown. He didn’t lose control. Because Roshaane was there.Not physically beside him at that moment, But firmly present in his heart. In his mind. And for the first time, he realized something with quiet clarity:
The past no longer had the power to shake him.
Not when the present meant everything.

“She was wrong this time.”

“What?” Maliha frowned. “What do you mean?”

Aarib let out a small, humorless laugh.

“Roshaane thinks that if I see you again, everything will come back. That I’ll forget what happened. That I’ll…” He paused, shaking his head slightly. “But see? Nothing happened.”

He laughed again softer this time.

Maybe at himself.
Maybe at the irony.

“Aarib, I...” she tried to explain.

But he took a step back, raising his hand slightly to stop her.

“The difference between you two is very simple,” he said, his voice losing its calm.

He looked at her again, this time directly.

“She was ready to die for me because she couldn’t live without me.”

His voice trembled not with anger, but something deeper.

“But you…” he swallowed, “you just gave up on me. You couldn’t fight for us. You couldn’t stand against anyone. You let go.”
His tone rose slightly.
“How could you? Why? Did Zeeya Maa asked for this?”

"No." He shook his head as no as once again his eyes betrayed him and it glistened.

Maliha’s eyes filled up as well, looked down for a second.

“Why do you always decide everything?” he continued. “Why do you always find the easiest way out? Why was walking away so easy for you?”

“It wasn’t easy!” she almost whispered, but he was already shaking his head."

"You made us suffer.  You choose the difficult path, for both of us." He said, looking away inhaling the fresh air.

“But it’s over now,” he said abruptly, turning away from her again. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

There was a pause.
A painful one.

Then her voice came again softer this time.

“You love her now?”

The question stopped him.
For a moment, he didn’t move.

“I can’t fall in love again,” he said quietly.
And then he walked away.

Maliha stood there, watching his retreating figure.
Her tears finally slipped down, but there was a faint smile on her lips.

"Lair,” she whispered to herself, looking up at the bright moon shining above.

“He’s already in love with her.”

The breeze moved through her hair as she stood alone in the lawn,  and somewhere inside the hospital, the girl he claimed not to love was fighting her way back to consciousness.

-------
The corridor felt quieter when Aarib walked back from the lawn. The conversation still echoed faintly in his mind  words said, words left unsaid but the moment he reached Roshaane’s room, everything else dissolved.

He pushed the door open gently.

The lights were dimmed. Machines hummed softly. The air carried that sterile hospital scent.
And there she was.

Still. Fragile. Breathing steadily.

He walked toward the chair beside her bed and sat down slowly, as if afraid any sudden movement might disturb her recovery.

For a few moments, he simply looked at her.
Her bandaged forehead. The faint bruise near her temple. Her right arm resting in a cast. Her lashes lying quietly against her pale cheeks.

His chest tightened.

Carefully, almost hesitantly, he reached for her left hand.
It was warm.
Alive.

He wrapped his fingers around it and brought it closer to him. Slowly, he lifted her hand toward his lips.

“I couldn’t forget you, not in front of her,” he whispered.

His voice was barely audible.

His lips brushed softly against her knuckles.

“You pulled me back,” he murmured, eyes lowering. “You didn’t let me go.”

He sat there like that for a long time, holding her hand, his thumb gently moving over her skin as if reassuring himself she was real.
Sometimes her eyelashes fluttered.
Her eyes would open slightly,  heavy, unfocused.
And every single time, the first thing she saw was him.

Sitting close.
Leaning forward.

His face tense. Watching. Waiting.

Relief would flicker faintly in her gaze before the medicine pulled her back into sleep again.
Each time she drifted off, he remained there.
Unmoving.
Guarding.

Praying silently under his breath.
Not naming the feeling in his chest.
Not daring to.

-----

Early morning light filtered through the hospital windows when Hikmat arrived carrying a small bag of homemade breakfast.

Aarib hadn’t moved much from his place beside Roshaane’s bed all night. He hadn’t gone to the cafeteria. Hadn’t slept. Hadn’t even leaned back properly in the chair. Antibiotics had been given through the night. Nurses came and went. Machines beeped steadily. And Aarib had sat there, fingers wrapped around her left hand, as if that alone was keeping her anchored.
He looked exhausted.

Eyes red. Face pale. Stubble darker than usual.
But he refused to rest.

Not until she was fully conscious.Hikmat placed the breakfast on the small side table.

“You look terrible,” he muttered, handing him tea.

Aarib gave a faint tired smile and took the cup.

“Maliha returned?” Hikmat asked casually, watching him carefully.

Aarib nodded, taking a sip.

“Did you both talk? Anything awkward?” Hikmat asked gently, like only a close friend could.

Aarib looked down at the tea in his hands.

“I think there’s nothing left to talk about between us anymore.”

There was no anger in his voice.
Just something finished.

“She thinks we should be friends,” he added, a faint mock smile appearing on his lips.
Hikmat waited.

“But the roads I’ve crossed without her…” Aarib continued quietly, “they don’t lead back. I can’t go back just to call it friendship.”
He swallowed.

“There were nights in these six months when I thought about her,” he admitted, his eyes glistening faintly. “Replayed everything. The days we had. The promises.”
He paused.

“But one thing I realized…” He looked at Hikmat now. “She didn’t trust me. She didn’t trust our love.”

His voice held a crack this time.

“She gave up so easily. No one forced her. No one could. She stepped back herself.”

The hurt was still there. Not loud. But deep.
“One was ready to die for me because she couldn’t imagine living without me…” he said slowly, glancing toward Roshaane’s room through the glass.

“And the other gave up because she couldn’t fight for it.”
He gave a small, painful smile.

“Two girls. So different.”

He finished his water in one go, as if washing away the bitterness.

“I’m glad she’s fine. Truly. But we can’t be anything now. Not even friends.”

Hikmat studied him quietly.

"Is Roshaane not at fault in all this?” Hikmat asked quietly, voicing what had been lingering in his mind for days.

Aarib didn’t answer immediately.
His jaw tightened.

“She did wrong,” he finally said. “I was already dying when I lost my love… my Maliha.”

The name slipped out softer than he intended.
The old wound reopened for a moment.

“I… couldn’t accept it,” he continued, staring at the floor. “Roshaane’s one act pushed everything out of place. Our paths changed that day.”

His voice held frustration not loud, but buried.

“But even then,” he added, lifting his eyes toward Hikmat, “Maliha didn’t fight. She didn’t stand her ground. She just… stepped back.”

A hollow laugh escaped him.

“As if I was something she could hand over. As if love was that easy to put aside.”
The bitterness wasn’t toward one person.

It was toward the collapse of everything he once believed in.

“I tried to stay angry at Roshaane,” he admitted after a pause. “I wanted to blame her for everything.”

His gaze drifted toward the closed door of Roshaane’s room.

“But I couldn’t.”

There was no anger in his eyes now.
Only tired honesty.

“For six months,” he said slowly, “I was stuck between two names. Two memories. Two versions of my life.”

He looked back at Hikmat.
“Roshaane and Maliha.”

He inhaled deeply.
“But I think… I’m ready now.”

Hikmat watched him carefully.

“I’m ready to move forward,” Aarib said, a faint but genuine smile forming on his lips. “To bury what keeps haunting me. To stop standing in the middle of something that already ended.”

The smile wasn’t loud. It was peaceful.
And maybe that was stronger than anything else.
“For the first time,” he added quietly, “I don’t feel torn.”

And Hikmat understood.

This wasn’t about choosing one woman over another. It was about choosing clarity over confusion.
And Aarib, finally had chosen.

“You’re a brave man, Aarib,” he said with a teasing softness. “May your heart finally find its true soulmate.”

Aarib looked up at him sharply.
Hikmat winked.

“Shut up,” Aarib muttered but this time, there was a real smile on his face.

His phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.

“Aarham.”

He stood immediately and answered.

“Yes. I’m at the hospital… She’s stable now.”
Hikmat watched his expression soften as he listened.

“Yes… I’ll be waiting.”
He ended the call.

“Who’s coming?” Hikmat asked.

“Roshaane’s brother,” Aarib replied, and the warmth in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

“You seem happy.”

Aarib nodded honestly.
“I missed him.”

“He’s the thread that keeps the whole family stitched together,” he added softly.

Hikmat nodded in understanding.
Around nine in the morning, a black BMW stopped outside the hospital entrance.
Two guards Abbas and Ali stepped out first. One of them opened the rear door.

Aarham Jahan Ahmad stepped out, dressed in black, his expression tense. Beside him was his wife, Mehak, in a navy-blue dress, worry written clearly across her face.They walked quickly inside. After asking at the reception, they hurried down the corridor. Aarib saw them approaching from where he sat outside Roshaane’s room.

“Aarib bhai,” Aarham said the moment he reached him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Aarib hugged him back firmly.
“How is she?” Aarham asked as he pulled away, fear obvious in his eyes.

“She’s stable,” Aarib said gently, pointing toward the room.

Aarham moved to the glass window. His eyes immediately filled. His little sister.
His princess.

Lying pale, weak, surrounded by machines.
Mehak stood beside him, holding his arm tightly.

“The doctors are coming to check her again,” Aarib informed quietly.

Aarham nodded and returned to sit beside him.

“Zeeya Maa?” Aarib asked carefully.

“We didn’t tell her,” Mehak answered softly, squeezing Aarham’s hand.

“Her blood pressure shoots up when she’s stressed,” Aarham explained. “When you called, I told them I had a business trip. I brought Mehak with me.”

Aarib nodded in understanding.

Soon, the doctors entered the room again.
They adjusted her IV. Checked her vitals. Reduced the sedation dosage.

“She’s responding well,” one of them said. “We’re lowering the medicine now. She should regain clearer consciousness soon.”

Outside the glass, all three men watched silently and inside the room Roshaane’s eyelashes trembled again.
This time...
The sleep wasn’t pulling her back as strongly.

------
The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of the heart monitor. A nurse adjusted the IV drip and stepped aside as Roshaane’s fingers twitched slightly against the sheet.
Aarib noticed first.
His body went still.

“Aarham…” he called softly.

Aarham immediately stood up from the chair near the glass. Inside the room, her eyelashes fluttered again slower this time, heavier but determined.
The sedation had been reduced. She was coming back.

The doctor leaned slightly over her. “Roshaane? Can you hear me?”

Her brows moved faintly. A weak breath escaped her lips and then her eyes opened. Not halfway. Not drifting. But properly.
Confused at first. The white ceiling. The light. The unfamiliar smell. Her breathing quickened slightly.

“It’s okay,” the doctor said calmly. “You’re safe.”

Outside, Aarib’s heart pounded so loudly he could hear it in his ears.

“She’s conscious,” the doctor said, turning toward the glass.

A nurse opened the door and signaled.
“Only two at a time.”

Aarham and Aarib looked at each other.

Aarham gestured. “You first.”

Aarib shook his head. “You’re her brother.”

Without another word, Aarham stepped inside with Mehak. Aarib followed a second later, unable to stay back.

Roshaane’s eyes shifted slowly toward the movement. They landed on Aarham. For a moment she simply stared. Then her lips trembled beneath the oxygen mask.

“Bh.ai…” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Aarham rushed closer to the bed, careful not to disturb the wires.

“I’m here, princess,” he said softly, his voice breaking despite his effort to stay strong. “I’m here.”

Tears filled his eyes instantly.

Mehak moved to her other side, gently brushing Roshaane’s hair back from her forehead. “You scared us so much,” she whispered.

Roshaane blinked slowly, trying to process everything. Her gaze moved again. And found him.

Aarib.

Standing a step behind Aarham at first.
Their eyes locked. This time, there was no blur in her vision.She saw him clearly.The exhaustion on his face. The redness in his eyes. The way his hands were trembling slightly.
Her lips curved faintly beneath the mask.

“Aa..rib…” she whispered weakly.

He stepped forward immediately, moving beside her bed.

“I’m here,” he said, voice low and unsteady. “Don’t try to talk.”

She attempted to lift her right arm and winced in pain. Aarib quickly placed his hand over her left one.

“Your arm is fractured. Don’t move.”

Her fingers tightened weakly around his.
That one small movement was enough to undo him.

“You’re safe,” he murmured. “Everything’s fine.”

Aarham watched the exchange quietly.
He saw the way Aarib leaned closer without realizing. The way his thumb gently brushed over her knuckles. The way his entire body softened near her.

Mehak noticed it too.

The doctor stepped forward again. “She needs rest. No emotional stress. Keep it short please.”

“Rest. I’m right outside.”Aarib said.

Mehak squeezed her hand gently. “We’re all here.”
They stepped back.

But Aarib didn’t move immediately.
Roshaane’s eyes were still on him.
As if she was afraid he would disappear the moment she blinked.

He leaned slightly closer.

“I told you not to scare me like that,” he whispered, trying to sound firm but failing.
Her lips curved again weak but stubborn.
And slowly, under the doctor’s guidance, they stepped out of the room.
Through the glass, Aarib remained standing there for a few seconds longer, watching her eyes close again his time not from unconsciousness, but simple exhaustion.

She was back.
And the life that had nearly slipped from his hands...
Was breathing again.

----
“Is this the right way?” Mrs. Sana Isham asked quietly, folding the last of the clothes into the suitcase. Her movements were careful, but her eyes betrayed hesitation.

Mr. Isham looked up from the tickets he had just booked. For a moment, he simply watched his wife.

“This is the only way,” he said firmly. “I can’t see him like that anymore."

Sana paused.

“You think going there will fix it?”
“No,” he replied after a brief silence. “But standing far away won’t either.”

She nodded slowly.

The suitcase clicked shut.

And both of them sat down, waiting not just for the journey, but for the right moment to arrive.
In Istanbul, the morning felt lighter.
Summer had finally begun to settle in. The air was warm but pleasant, sunlight filtering through open windows and carrying a sense of renewal.
It had been three weeks since the accident.
Three weeks of recovery.
Three weeks of slow healing. And today
Roshaane was finally going home.
Her right arm was still secured in a supportive sling due to the fracture, but the bruises had faded. The bandage on her forehead had been removed. She was walking slowly, carefully.
But she was walking.

Since that night in the hospital lawn, Maliha hadn’t returned. She hadn’t come back to visit Roshaane again. And no one forced her to.
Some closures happen quietly. By afternoon, Aarib’s house was filled with warmth.
It wasn’t a loud celebration just a small gathering of close family and friends.

Hikmat’s family was there. Mrs. Farooqi and her family were there. Aarham and Mehak moved around comfortably, as if it was their own home.
When Roshaane stepped inside, a soft cheer rose.
She smiled brightly.

“Careful,” Aarib whispered near her ear, walking beside her, his hand gently steadying her by the elbow.

“I’m not fragile,” she muttered under her breath.

“You are,” he replied calmly.

Aarham noticed everything.

The way Aarib adjusted her pace. The way he instinctively reached out whenever she moved too quickly. The way his eyes never truly left her.
A small smile settled on Aarham’s lips.
His heart was finally at ease.

The living room transformed into a cozy celebration.

Roshaane sat on the main sofa, like the honored guest. Zainab squeezed in beside her, whispering something that made both of them burst into quiet giggles.

Rehman, Hikmat, Aarib, and Aarham stood near the dining area, talking. Dinner had been ordered from Aarib’s own restaurant, A&A Restaurant.
Mehak sat with Saba Farooqi and Rehman’s wife, engaged in soft conversation, smiles passing between them easily.

It felt… normal.
Comfortable.
Alive.

And in the middle of it all, Aarib’s gaze kept drifting. Again and again. Toward the sofa where Roshaane sat laughing softly at something Zainab had said. Each time she smiled, something in his expression softened. He would look away quickly whenever someone addressed him. But then He would look back.

Aarham caught it.
Hikmat caught it.Even Mehak noticed it from across the room.

And Roshaane?

She pretended not to.

But every time she felt his eyes on her,
Her smile grew just a little wider and heart beat faster.

-------
The house slowly grew quiet.
One by one, everyone left.
Hikmat and his family. Mrs. Farooqi and the others. Rehman waving one last goodbye.
The laughter faded. The door closed. Silence settled. Only four remained now Aarham, Mehak, Aarib, and Roshaane.

Roshaane was almost lying down on the sofa, exhaustion finally catching up with her. Her injured arm rested carefully against a cushion, her head tilted against the armrest.
Aarham and Mehak sat beside her for a few minutes.

“I think you should rest now,” Aarham said gently. “We’ll talk properly in the morning.”

She nodded obediently, her energy clearly drained.

"Yes bhai I'm so tired." She replied yawning.

Across the room, Aarib was cleaning up the dining table, stacking plates, wiping the counter, refusing to leave things messy even tonight.

“We’re going to rest,” Mehak announced softly, standing up and tugging Aarham’s hand.

He hesitated. “I can sit a little more...”

“You’ve sat enough,” she whispered, pulling him firmly toward their room.

And just like that, for the first time since the accident, They were alone. Aarib entered the living room after finishing in the kitchen.
He found Roshaane still on the sofa, her head resting lazily against the armrest, eyes half-closed.

“Sleepy?” he asked.

His voice made her open her eyes slowly.

“I am,” she replied softly, lifting her left arm slightly toward him.

He raised a brow in question.

“Carry me, please.”
She pouted.

He immediately looked away to hide the smile threatening his lips.

She, however, forgot to blink.White shirt. Beige pants. Sleeves folded to his forearms. That small, rare smile.
Her heart skipped.
She could never get tired of looking at him.
“Are you not going to?” she asked softly, still gazing at him.

“As if I can say no to you,” he murmured.
And in one smooth motion, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.

Her left arm wrapped around his shoulder instantly. She rested her head against him comfortably.

“Tell me I’m not heavy,” she giggled quietly.

“You’re not,” he replied, inhaling the faint fragrance of her hair without realizing it.

“Then you can lift me every day,” she said, looking up at him. “Will you?”

A soft chuckle escaped him.
“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re love.”

The words slipped out so naturally that he stopped mid-step.
For a brief second, he just stood there, holding her in his arms, her words echoing inside him.
Instead of replying, he walked into the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.

“You sleep. I’m coming,” he said and disappeared into the washroom.

Roshaane smiled to herself, staring at the closed door.

“I hope I can win your love, Aarib,” she whispered.

Inside the washroom, Aarib splashed water on his face.

Cold water. Again. And again.

“What’s happening to me?” he muttered, gripping the edge of the sink.

His heartbeat felt louder than usual. He shook his head, wiped his face, and stepped out.
She was still awake.

“Why aren’t you sleeping? You look tired,” he said, switching off the main lights and leaving only the bedside lamp on.

“I was waiting for my husband,” she replied casually.

Before he could lie down properly, she stretched her left arm toward him.
“Come.”

“Sorry?” He blinked

“What sorry? Just come here.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer.

“Sleep here,” she said, patting her shoulder.
“But..."
Before he could argue, she gently rested his head on her shoulder.

“Sleep,” she whispered, tapping lightly against his hair.

He stiffened for a second.
Then slowly,
Relaxed.

Hee pulled the comforter over both of them.
Her fingers began moving gently through his hair.
Soft. Careful. Comforting.
His breathing slowly steadied.

“I scared you, didn’t I?” she whispered.
He didn’t answer.

“I’m not going to leave you so soon,” she added with a tiny giggle.

Suddenly, his hand lifted and covered her mouth.
She froze.

“Don’t talk rubbish,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed, head resting against her shoulder.

“Let me sleep.”

He slowly withdrew his hand. Her cheeks flushed deep red. She didn’t say anything else.
Just smiled softly in the dim light.
And closed her eyes.
Holding the man who still refused to name his love,
While already resting safely inside it.

--------

Assalam-o-Alaikum readers,
​How are you all doing?

​I’m back with another update, and this one is quite a long chapter! I really hope you enjoyed diving into it.
​I’ll be back soon with another update, possibly even as early as tomorrow, so stay tuned!

​Please don't forget to pour your love into the comment section. Your feedback and support mean the world to me!
​With love, Your Author