The silence had filled the entire house once again. Aarib's small but beautiful home felt cold-almost too cold for a place where two newlyweds lived. Roshaane and Aarib sat stiffly, both slightly apart, while Hikmat and his mother occupied the opposite sofa.

Roshaane's hands were clasped tightly together, her nerves making it hard for her to even lift her gaze. Hikmat's mother had come to visit them-unexpectedly.

"I'm offended, Aarib. You should have told us about your wedding," Hikmat's mother said, voice carrying a hint of complaint even though her expression remained gentle. She shifted her eyes toward Roshaane. "She's such a nice girl. You should've introduced her to us earlier."

She spoke in fluent Turkish. Roshaane didn't understand the words, but she understood the tone, the warmth, and the subtle disappointment. She sat quietly, eyes lowered, observing their interaction.

Aarib cleared his throat, about to explain, but Hikmat's mother stopped him with a hand gesture.

"No need to say anything. I'm here to invite you both to the engagement ceremony of Hikmat's elder brother, Yasir." Her gaze returned to Aarib.

"Teyze(aunty), we..." Aarib tried again, but Hikmat leaned forward, cutting in.

"No excuses," Hikmat said firmly. "You both have to come. Tomorrow evening. If you don't, I'll personally come to drag you out of this house."

Aarib sighed, defeated, and gave a small nod.

Roshaane looked at the three of them with growing confusion. Aarib finally turned to her and translated softly, "They're inviting us to an engagement."

She nodded quickly, a small smile appearing. "We'll come," she said, excited despite her confusion.

"I'll be waiting," Hikmat's mother said as she stood up. She leaned down and hugged Roshaane warmly before leaving with her son.

Once the door closed, silence settled again-thick and suffocating.

Aarib walked to the sofa, grabbed the TV remote, and switched on the television as if that could drown the tension.

"We don't have to go," he said casually. "I'll make an excuse."

Roshaane's brows knitted together in irritation. Enough was enough.

She marched toward him, climbed onto the center table, and sat there-blocking his view of the TV. Aarib stared at her in shock.

"And why won't we go to the engagement?" she demanded.

He didn't reply.

"Is this how we're going to live? This silence?" she asked, her voice trembling with frustration. "Can't we stop this for God's sake?"

"What stop?" Aarib said bluntly. "You wanted to live with me, right? So this is how I live."

"No," she snapped. "That's not how a husband lives with his wife. I accepted my mistake. I know I forced myself into your life. But that doesn't mean you get to ignore me forever."

"Roshaane, I want you to come out of your immature nature. Grow up now," he said, sounding exhausted.

"What's left in maturity that I haven't seen already?" she shot back. "You're mature enough to handle everything-even this broken marriage you're carrying so perfectly. So I'm fine as I am."

She turned away and marched to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Aarib sat still, staring at the wall. His chest felt heavy-a tight, painful pressure that made him lean back and close his eyes. He didn't know how to fix this... how to fix them.

Inside the room, Roshaane cried silently. The tears wouldn't stop. In two days, she would turn twenty. And she knew, she would be alone. Even more alone now... because her husband was drifting further away with each passing day.

She picked up a framed photo of him.

"How will I win you, Aarib?" she whispered, her tears falling onto the glass.

-------

Greece.

The mehndi function had ended beautifully, colours and laughter spreading like sunshine across the hall. One by one, the guests returned to their rooms, their voices fading into silence. But Halay... she was still sitting alone in the hotel hall, lost in her storm of thoughts.

Thoughts of being alone.
Thoughts of being left behind.

Today, she had noticed something she had always feared. Something she had refused to accept until it stabbed her straight in the heart:
Haseeb's eyes.
The way they softened.
The way they lit up.
And the way they never, not even for a second, left Maliha.

Maliha-standing elegantly in her green lehnga, her soft curls falling around her shoulders. She looked breathtaking. Radiant. Every bit a vision. And Haseeb... his heart was fluttering in a silent rhythm that Halay had no access to.

Jealousy burned inside her like a wildfire. She always knew Haseeb did not love her. She had always known Maliha was his favourite person. But she never expected that the man she had fallen for... was silently, deeply loving someone who was six years older than him.

And yet, she had seen it so clearly tonight-Haseeb's love was not new. It wasn't sudden. It wasn't temporary.

It was old.
It was silent.
And it was painful.

He had hidden it all his life, because Maliha belonged to Aarib. But now... now that Aarib and Maliha had parted ways, hope had crept into his heart again. And Halay's heart shattered.

She was fuming in anger when she saw Haseeb walking toward her.

"What are you doing here till now?" he asked, confusion on his face.

"I was thinking about you," Halay said bitterly, "and your Maliha."

Haseeb frowned. "What?"

She stood up, stepping toward him with trembling rage. "How can you do this to me?" she asked, voice breaking.

"What are you saying, Halay?" he asked, truly confused.

"You knew I love you!" she burst out, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You always knew... then how can you love someone else?"

Her voice cracked. She hit his chest with her fists as she cried uncontrollably.

"You knew!" she sobbed.

"And you knew too," he said quietly, making her freeze.

Halay looked at him through wet lashes.

"You knew I love her. You always knew," Haseeb said, his voice rising with years of suppressed pain. "I don't even know when it began... when she became so important. But you always knew, so why didn't you stop yourself?"

"Haseeb... she's not for you," Halay cried. "Come to me instead. Please..."

"Don't be stupid," he said, not harshly-just exhausted. "You're a nice girl, Halay. I never wanted to see you like this."

She tried to wipe her tears, but they kept falling.

"But one thing is certain," he said, eyes determined. "I love her. If she doesn't choose me, that will be my destiny. But I can't love anyone else."

He tapped her head gently and turned to leave-

-but froze.

Maliha stood at the end of the corridor, eyes wide, face drained of colour. She had been standing there. She had heard...

Halay's breath caught. She quickly wiped her face, pretending nothing had happened. Haseeb tried to compose himself.

But Maliha turned away silently... and walked off.

"You think she heard us?" Halay whispered, fear rising inside her.

Haseeb swallowed hard, feeling his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Sweat appeared on his forehead.

"I don't know," he said breathlessly.

Without wasting another second, he rushed after her.

Halay stood there alone... her heart heavier than ever. Then she slowly walked to her room, carrying a heartbreak she could no longer hide.

-------

Cold December wind swept through the hotel lawn as Maliha stepped outside. The laughter and music from the mehndi function faded behind her, replaced by the quiet rush of the river beyond the stone wall.

Her green lehnga shimmered under the dim golden lights, but her heart felt heavy. Confused. Restless.

She wrapped her shawl around herself, her earrings gently swaying with each step she took toward the river.

Behind her, hurried footsteps.

Haseeb.

Still in his mehndi clothes-his kurta slightly creased, his expression tense-he followed her out, breathing hard as if he had run after her.

"Maliha, wait... please," he called softly.

She stopped near the river wall but didn't turn around immediately. Her hands rested on the cold stone, her gaze lost somewhere in the dark flowing water.

A moment later, she spoke-her voice calm, but edged with something he couldn't read.

"So... who's the lucky girl you're in love with?"

Haseeb froze.

Maliha finally turned her head slightly, just enough to see the shock on his face.

She gave a small, almost teasing smile-but it didn't reach her eyes.

"You don't have to look so scared," she said gently. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to overhear anything."

Haseeb felt his throat close.
"What... what did you hear?"

"Not much," she said honestly. "Just... that you love someone. That's all."

A wave of relief-mixed with pain-passed through him.

She didn't know who.

She didn't know it was her.

She continued walking slowly along the stone wall. He walked beside her silently, unsure of what to say.

After a few moments, she spoke again:

"You know, Haseeb... love is a strange thing."
She looked ahead, her eyes on the flickering yellow lights.
"It makes us brave. It makes us stupid. And sometimes, it makes us hide."

He swallowed hard.
"Maliha-"

"Relax," she interrupted softly. "I'm not asking for the girl's name. That's your story, not mine."

He looked at her, his chest tight.

"I just hope," she added quietly, "that whoever she is... she knows how lucky she is."

The simple sincerity in her words broke something inside him.

She didn't know.

She had no idea.

The wind brushed her hair across her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear and said:

"And I hope she loves you back. Truly. Wholeheartedly."

He closed his eyes for a second, unable to take the weight of her innocence.

Maliha turned fully toward him now.

"But tell me one thing," she asked softly, "does she know? Does she know you love her?"

Haseeb faltered. "No... she doesn't."

She nodded slowly, almost sadly.
"Then maybe... you should tell her."

He stared at her-helpless, shaken, pained.

"I can't," he whispered.
"It's... complicated."

She gave him a small, understanding smile.
"All love stories are complicated, Haseeb. But hearts don't understand complications."

Silence again. Heavy. Sharp.

Then she turned toward the hotel entrance.

"Let's go in. its getting cold."

She took a few steps forward, then paused and glanced back with a gentle expression.

"And whoever she is... I hope she sees the goodness in you. The loyalty. The kindness."

Her voice weakened just slightly.

"You deserve someone who chooses you."

Then she walked inside-quiet, graceful, unaware of the storm she had left behind in Haseeb's heart.

He remained standing near the river, breath shaky, eyes burning.

Because the girl who wanted him to be loved back...

...was the girl he had loved all along.

-------

Halay shut the door behind her and leaned against it, sliding down until she sat on the cold floor.
The moment she was alone... she broke.

Her sobs filled the small hotel room, raw and helpless.
She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to stop the sound, but the pain was stronger.

Haseeb's words kept echoing in her mind:

"One thing is confirmed. I love her."

Her chest clenched.

She had loved him for years.
Loved his laughter, his kindness, his protectiveness...
Loved the way he treated everyone around him.

But he didn't love her.

He loved someone else.

Her tears fell harder.

"Why did I fall for you, Haseeb?" she whispered into the emptiness.
"I knew... I always knew. But I still hoped..."

She hugged her knees, burying her face.
Her heart felt like it was breaking piece by piece, quietly, painfully.

And worst of all-

The girl he loved didn't even know.

And Halay knew, with a piercing ache...
that she could never compete with that kind of love.

---
Haseeb entered his room without turning on the lights.
The moonlight poured in through the window, pale and cold, just like his thoughts.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, fingers tangled in his hair.

Maliha's words kept circling in his mind like a loop he couldn't escape:

"Whoever she is... I hope she loves you back."
"You deserve someone who chooses you."

He closed his eyes tightly, the pain sharp.

If only she knew.

If only saying it was easy.

How could he tell her?

How could he confess to the very girl he had loved silently for years-
the girl who had once belonged to his brotherly figure, Aarib?

How could he reach her heart...
when her heart was still bruised from someone else?

He leaned back against the headboard and whispered into the darkness:

"Maliha... how do I tell you?"

His heart was heavy, suffocating.

He wished he could just gather courage, stand before her, and say:

It's you.
It has always been you.

But every time he imagined it, the words choked in his throat.

He feared losing her.
Feared pushing her away.
Feared that she would never look at him the same again.

He rubbed his face.

He didn't know how to reach her heart.

Not yet.

---

Maliha stood near the window, her green lehnga still wrapped around her, now heavy with exhaustion.
The moonlight illuminated her teary eyes.

She looked up at the sky.

At the moon.

At the only witness to her heart's silent breakdown.

She remembered Aarib's smile...
their engagement night...
the way he had held her hand...
the way he had cried the day they broke apart.

Love wasn't supposed to end like that.
Not with tears...
not with silence...
not with two people walking away because destiny had other plans.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Why was her heart hurting again tonight?

Her voice cracked as she whispered:

"Why does it still hurt?"

She lifted her hand to her chest, pressing where the ache felt deepest.

Her love story with Aarib had been real.
Painfully real.
Full of dreams that never got a chance to bloom.

And now...

She felt alone.

Utterly alone in a room full of memories she wished she could forget.

With trembling fingers, she wiped her tears and looked out at the moon again.

"Maybe some hearts," she whispered,
"are destined to break more than once."

She didn't know that someone's heart was breaking for her too...
just a few rooms away.

---------
It was the next evening, the silence between Aarib and Roshaane still hanging heavy like an unseen weight in the house. Aarib sat quietly on the sofa, lost in his own storm of thoughts, barely aware of the subtle movements around him. Roshaane, meanwhile, stood in front of the mirror of her room, forcing herself to breathe normally.

She slipped into a bottle-green gown that brushed her ankles, its half sleeves complementing her delicate frame. She curled her hair lightly, applied soft, natural makeup, and picked up her matching clutch. Even after getting ready, she stood there for a moment-eyes closed-gathering courage.

Finally, she stepped out and walked down the stairs.

Aarib looked up-and genuinely froze.

She stood in front of him, elegant yet fragile, her eyes holding a quiet plea.

"Shall we go now?" she asked.

Aarib blinked, confused. "Where?"

"To the engagement, Aarib." she reminded him gently.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead with tension. "I told you... we are not going."

He turned to leave, but her hand caught his arm-not forcefully, but with trembling fingers.

"I want to go, Aarib." she said.

He turned back. Her eyes were glistening, holding back tears she didn't want to show.

"I really want to go." she whispered.
"I feel suffocated here... alone... in this house."

Before Aarib could say anything, the doorbell rang sharply, making both of them flinch.

Aarib opened the door-and Hikmat stood there grinning.

"What are you doing here?" Aarib asked, surprised.

Hikmat stepped inside with his signature mischievous smile.
"I remembered I forgot to tell you the name of the hotel where the engagement is happening."

He walked further inside and his eyes fell on Roshaane.

"Marhaba." he greeted warmly.

She gave a polite nod and quietly slipped into the kitchen, needing a moment to steady her breath.

The second she left, Hikmat plopped onto the sofa, then straightened as he noticed Aarib's serious expression.

"So? You both ready?"

"Hikmat... I think we shouldn't come," Aarib said quietly.

Hikmat's brows drew together immediately. "Why?"

"I... I'm not comfortable."

Hikmat folded his arms. "Uncomfortable with what, Aarib? Going to an engagement? Or going there with your wife?"

Aarib dropped his gaze. He had no answer.

"We'll talk later," Hikmat said firmly, "but for now, both of you are coming with me."

Just then, Roshaane returned to the hall, clutch in hand.

Hikmat stood and smiled at her.
"Shall we go, bhabhi?"

She looked at Aarib, silently asking if she should go.
He slowly nodded.

And so, all three of them walked out of the house.

They sat in Hikmat's car-three people, three different storms in their minds. Each wondering what the evening would bring... and what truths might surface next.

A/N: Assalam-o-Alaikum dear readers,
How are you all?

I'm really sorry for the late update. I've been dealing with some health issues lately, so I couldn't write as much as I wanted to. I hope you understand.

Do share your thoughts on the chapter by commenting and voting - your feedback truly means a lot to me.

With love,
Your Author 🤍