The darker the night, the brighter the stars.
The deeper the grief, the closer is God!

— Fyodor Dostoevsky

"We met in Auckland one Thursday afternoon, late in the summer. The weather that day was as it is today— stormy and pouring." Leyla fills the tea in the cups and hands one to Burq. "Careful."

He takes it from her and holds it on his lap. The blanket covering his legs is keeping him warm against angry nature outside and concealing his cast. Sitting in his living room at his home, in a wheelchair, is still better than lying in a hospital bed. He can just pretend everything to be normal for a while.

"Don't tell me it was something cliché," Burq comments. "Like us running into each other in a coffee shop or my office."

Leyla hides her smile behind her cup as she sips her tea, but Burq doesn't miss it. "No, it was nothing like that. Why, I see you're expecting it to be more of a romantic encounter."

"I'll fear that, pardon me." He smirks, looking unimpressed. "Life is no novel or movie to me."

"Don't be offended now." Leyla puts down her cup, her eyes telling him she has heard the taunt in his words. "I met you at a library."

He knits his brows. "Library?"

"Yes," she confirms. "My sister studies in Auckland. I visited her to her university and then decided to check out their library. I met you there."

His memory is like a white blank sheet. He has an apartment in Auckland and runs his own factory there. But what he was doing at a university library is beyond his understanding. Is Leyla making up a story?

"How?" Burq asks, needing to know more. "You couldn't reach a book on the shelf and I picked it for you?" he jokes.

She chuckles at that, undoing her hair from the bun before tying it back up. His gaze follows every movement of her fingers nimbly. "I think I would have liked that too, but no."

"Uh huh. Then?"

"You were mumbling to yourself how libraries are quiet like graveyards and how you don't like them." She smiles, as if remembering the moment and reliving it. "I was standing beside you and looked up at you. It seemed to me only then you noticed me standing there, and you just said hi."

Burq bites his lower lip as the corners of it twitch up in a smile of his own. "What did you say back?"

"You think I wouldn't have said back just hi?"

"I think you're not such a simple woman. Apparently, yes. But actually? No."

Leyla studies him as she fixes his eyes. Burq stares, letting her as she always lets him study her.

"I replied with how that quiet was peaceful rather than haunting, and you smiled and apologized for disturbing my peace." She lowers her gaze to the cup in her hands, tracing its rim with her ring finger. "I told you how you didn't look sorry and you said it was because you weren't really." She looks back up but out to the rain pouring through the glass wall this time. "I don't remember the details, but we both ended up out in the rain that day, and you told me how you haven't been so happy in long and if we could meet again."

Burq continues staring at her, waiting for more, but she doesn't shift her gaze to him from the rain outside and remains silent.

"Leyla?" he calls her after good few minutes.

She finally turns her attention to him.

"You agreed to meet me again?" he asks.

"Had I not, would we be sitting here together sipping tea and talking?" she answers easily with a soft smile, but Burq hears the remorse in her statement, as if she regrets ever agreeing— as if it was a mistake.

"It appears to me you're not quite pleased with your decision though," he speaks his thoughts openly.

"Say if I wasn't, wouldn't I have left you with your memory gone?" Like always, she dismisses any disagreements effortlessly, grinning at him. "Only the discontented souls live in the past, and I'm not one of those."

Burq takes a sip of his own tea, not feeling like letting go. She must have a reason for not leaving him. Whatever kindness of his that may be.

"Were we to meet again," he leans slightly towards her, "given another chance to be, would you agree once more to be with me?"

Her trouble-free expression slowly washes off as her orbs darken with concern and confusion. She's trying to mask it by staying neutral, but failing.

"To be with you?" she repeats his words.

Burq casually shrugs one shoulder. "You're taking care of a handicap. It's a big deal. Maybe you wouldn't want to do this if given a choice again, right? Not considering whatever it is that I did for you to hold you back. If it wasn't for the said favor, you wouldn't be with me. Am I wrong, Leyla?"

The stillness and tension between them only get heavy with each null second until Burq cannot bear the deafness anymore and puts his cup down on the table, appreciating the little noise it makes.

"You can go home if you want," he says in a low, detached tone.

Leyla exhales and shakes her head. "I'll make you dinner before leaving."

"Did Waleed tell you I don't eat from my servants' hands?" He knows Leyla must dislike his remark, but speaks so anyways, not caring.

Her focus on him intensifies with malcontent but she doesn't correct him, probably not finding the moment appropriate. "I know you like to prepare your meals yourself." She gets up and moves closer to him. "I'll do it for you until you can cook for yourself again."

"Don't bother. I can hire a cook for myself."

"No need. I don't mind doing that."

As she moves aside to walk past him, Burq clasps her wrist. He looks up at her. "You can forget whatever my kindness towards you was, like me, and move on. You can leave me be."

Leyla hovers over him, placing her free hand on his wheelchair to support herself as she inches closer to him. "I can't," she whispers. "It's not so easy."

He stares right into her pupils, almost swallowed away by her dark irises. The space between their faces is small and like before, she seems oblivious to their position.

"I don't want to make you feel compelled," he manages to utter.

"I don't feel that way."

"I don't want to bound you to myself for something I don't even remember or know about."

Her smile comes back but it's sad this time— melancholy painting her features into something broken and vulnerable.

"You're not, don't worry." She straightens, rushing to compose herself. "I'll send Waleed to you if you need anything. I'll be in the kitchen for a while."

Burq watches her leave the living room to look for Waleed. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling absent-mindedly until his eyes burn and he has to blink. Inside his head is a thick fog making him blind to see everything clearly. He tries to focus on the sound of thunder and rain outside but his thoughts keep leaping back to Leyla.

He groans, reaching back for his tea cup and taking a sip of it.

"Why are you lying to me, habibi?"

He might not know what happened between them to bring them together, or hold her to him, but he does know Leyla is keeping the bigger pieces of the puzzle to herself and not letting him see. And if she has ever known him good enough, she must also know she cannot fool him for long. He's a determined man if put to something.

He hears footsteps and tilts his head to the side, finding Waleed walking towards him.

"Your lordship."

Burq watches his butler mindfully, letting out a huff after a moment. He could very well have fired him from his job that night for lying to him, but he has no answers right now to his father's inquiries. He needs to delay things until he's well, unfortunately.

"Waleed?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"I want to see the rain from the patio. Come with me."

Waleed nods obediently at his master's command and follows him outside. The wind is strong and the sky is clouded, every once in a while the lightning cracking it. The weather is cold.

"Should I get you another blanket, my lord?" Waleed asks.

"No." Burq gesture towards a chair. "Sit down."

Waleed does so reluctantly and Burq takes note of his uptight posture.

"I'm not going to interrogate you about Leyla anymore, so you can relax," Burq begins, giving him a half, unamused smile. "I just need to know a few things for the peace of my mind."

Waleed swallows but nods again.

"I won't force you to tell me something you cannot tell me about her, but tell me something about myself," Burq simply states, eyes fixated on the raindrops dripping from the roof.

"What do you wish to know?"

"My relationship with women."

Waleed coughs awkwardly at his blunt request, keeping his own eyes downcast. Burq knows it's not because he ever was a perverted man in this department, but because he never let his servants come anywhere near his personal circle. Waleed might not know the intricate details, but he still has seen much of him in his time with him.

"I need a response," Burq demands as his patience starts thinning.

"Your lordship never had any relationship with any woman."

"Except Doha." Burq clicks his tongue in disappointment. "You can say it, Waleed. I've given you permission to be free in your speech." He turns his gaze to him. "But what after her?"

"I've no knowledge of how you met Ms. Leyla, or much of what has been between you and her. I also do not know about your feelings towards her, my lord, neither what has been there in her heart for you. But if there's something I can tell you, it's that she always cared greatly for you."

Burq doesn't miss how Waleed uses 'care' in past tense, and how Leyla might have changed than before for him to say so. But she still cares for him, only that now it has a reason behind it. Or maybe it always was the said reason.

"We must have been close for her to care for me then," Burq points out.

Waleed hesitates before affirming, "Yes, my lord."

"Closer than me and Doha?"

This time his butler goes mute, not meeting Burq's eyes. When he doesn't answer, Burq looks away from him back to the falling raindrops.

"What changed?"

Again, there's no answer. So Burq lets the topic go.

"Did my father call in the past few days when I was at the hospital?" he asks instead.

"No, my lord. But his lordship, Raad, called."

Burq goes stiff like a board at the information, clenching both his fists and jaw.

"I told him you weren't available at the moment," Waleed continues. "He asked me to inform you and to call him back."

"Does anyone know of my accident?" Burq grits.

"No, my lord."

"Good. None shall know, Waleed." Burq finds him again with his eyes, this time sharp and strict with an unforgiving promise if disobeyed.

"As your lordship pleases. No one will know."

"What does my family know of Leyla?"

"They know nothing of her."

He smiles wickedly, satisfied. God knows what his relationship to Leyla was, he cannot risk it with them knowing.

"Then this shall remain only between us."

Waleed places his hand over his heart, showing his loyalty towards him. "Of course, my lord."

Burq gestures for Waleed to leave him alone and he does so, leaving his master to his own company. He sighs, unclenching his fisted hands.

"Why would you do that to me? You were my brother."

The thunder roars loudly and Burq looks up to the sky, feeling his heart searing even in the chilly atmosphere.

"Raad, akhi. How could you marry Doha knowing that I loved her?"

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