A/N: Thank you to all of you for all the love for the last chapter! It's always surprising to come back to so many thoughtful comments, discussions, and reactions to the story, I am so glad y'all are enjoying it so far. It's been an angsty ride for a long time now, but we move up from here on! See you on the other side!

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As Meerab held the blue box, her hands were not just trembling; they were betraying a storm of emotions raging within her. The small, velvet box felt unusually heavy in her grasp, each quiver of her fingers echoing the tumultuous beat of her heart. Zaki had handed her the ring to ensure it fit, his face alight with a hopeful smile, but his eyes wary. For Meerab, the ring felt like a shackle, a tangible reminder of the life she was poised to step into — a life that increasingly felt like a beautifully gilded cage.

She couldn't accept it.

The hospital's quiet had been oppressive, the steady beeps of machines and the sharp smell of antiseptic a constant reminder of the reality she faced. Sitting by her father's side, she'd had too much time to think, to weigh her feelings for Murtasim against the practical, seemingly perfect future with Zaki. The realization of the unfairness of her impending decision had settled heavily on her shoulders, an unwelcome cloak of guilt and confusion. She was about to promise herself to one man while her heart and soul belonged to another, even if she wished it didn't.

She couldn't do that to Zaki.

Murtasim's departure had etched a gaping hole in her heart, a stark reminder of the pervasive loneliness that had haunted her long before the hospital's sterile corridors. She understood now that she had been attempting to patch up the void left by Murtasim with someone else, a futile effort to mask the pain with the promise of new beginnings. But this realization brought with it a heavy burden of unfairness — unfairness to Zaki. To draw him into her world, her pain, her unresolved love for another, would be to wrong him deeply.

Zaki deserved more than to be a mere substitute, a balm for her loneliness.

Now, standing in the driveway of her house, the evening air felt thick with the weight of impending decisions. The driveway was a familiar space of transitions, of hellos and goodbyes, and now it was about to witness perhaps the most significant farewell of all — the farewell to what might have been. Her father's return home that evening had brought a semblance of normalcy, the gentle murmur of family filling the house, contrasting sharply with the silent chaos of her inner world. It had only been days since Murtasim's abrupt departure from the hospital, days that felt like a lifetime, each moment closer to the day she was supposed to get engaged to Zaki.

She couldn't do it.

The thought of marrying Zaki didn't fill her with joy or anticipation. Instead, there was a hollow resignation, a whispered lie to herself that maybe, just maybe, life with him would be enough. He was everything society said was right: kind, successful, understanding, his family welcoming and warm. He was the type of man a woman could easily fall in love with, she might one day as well, but in that moment, with her heart so full of Murtasim it seemed impossible. In another life, if she was someone else, she might have loved him, might have been happy with the easy companionship and shared laughter. But now, her heart was so entwined with Murtasim's shadow that every beat seemed to whisper his name.

Meerab had tried to push him back into the box she had created, one labelled Murtasim, but even the Murtasim in her mind was too strong to be pushed into one.

It wasn't just about choosing between two men; it was about choosing between two futures, two versions of herself. One path led to a secure, respected life, filled with comfort and societal approval. The other was uncertain, fraught with emotional turmoil but also ignited by a love so intense it scared her. As she stood there, the ring a cold entity against her warm skin, Meerab knew the choice wouldn't just define her future; it would define her. And in that moment, with the weight of the ring in her hand and the weight of her decision in her heart, the path she needed to take became painfully clear.

She couldn't marry Zaki. Not like this. Not now.

"I – Zaki," she started, her eyes meeting his, "I need you to know how deeply sorry I am. You've been nothing but kind, understanding, and wonderful." She paused, the weight of each word sinking in. "And I tried, I really did try to move forward..."

Her fingers gently closed the box, hiding the ring carried within. "But my heart...it's not mine to give. Not anymore. It still – it still belongs to Murtasim, and despite everything, I can't seem to reclaim it." Her hand extends towards him, offering back the ring. "I still love him, Zaki. And I think I always will. It wouldn't be fair to you or to me to enter a marriage knowing my heart lies elsewhere... I really am sorry." Meerab said, her voice breaking throughout, a clear sign of her emotional turmoil. The ring felt heavy in her hands.

Zaki sighed, his voice low and carrying a tinge of sadness as he accepted the ring. "I can't say that I am surprised," he muttered, his eyes meeting hers with an understanding that made her heart sink further. He was graceful in his hurt, accepting her words immediately.

Meerab looked up, her eyes reflecting her confusion and guilt.

Zaki laughed, a soft, understanding sound that somehow made her feel even worse. "I'd have to be blind to not notice, I was just waiting for you to say something." He paused, taking a deep breath. "You two don't seem to notice the way you look at each other, and how close you two stand to each other when you speak." His observation was like a mirror reflecting a truth she had tried to ignore.

"Oh," was all Meerab could manage, the realization dawning on her in waves. "Since when..."

"Have I known?" Zaki finished her question for her, his eyes kind yet knowing.

She nodded, unable to form the words, her mind reeling with the implications of what he was saying.

"I think when I first saw you with him when you came to my house...I knew that the wedding wouldn't happen. I thought I was thinking about it too much at first," Zaki began, a smile touching his lips even as he recounted the tale. "But then you jumped and ran to him when you were scared. And then you called him to the hospital, even though I was closer and better equipped to help." His words were light, but they carried an undercurrent of understanding, a gentle nudge at the truth they both knew. "I know that ring fits, Rani Bhabhi got your ring size...but I think you needed a push."

Meerab felt a wave of guilt wash over her. He must have felt sidelined the entire time, bearing witness to her heart belonging to another. "I feel like I can apologize to you for life and it wouldn't be enough," she muttered, her voice low, a mix of regret and sorrow.

"No, you should never apologize for who you love. I don't think it's something people can control," he said, his voice carrying a wisdom that seemed beyond the situation.

She looked at him, her heart filled with admiration. "You really are perfect, you know that?" she said, the words a testament to his understanding and kindness.

Zaki laughed, a sound that was both light-hearted and tinged with a hint of sadness. "Clearly not enough," he joked, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

She shook her head, frustration and a sense of self-reproach evident in her gesture. "No, I am the idiot who loves a man who keeps pushing me away," she confessed, the admission bitter on her tongue.

"Why does he?" Zaki's question was gentle, probing without being invasive.

"I don't know, I thought I knew but I am not sure anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We've never seen eye-to-eye, I don't fit in his world... but I thought we'd make it work, you know. But the more I fell, the more he pushed me away. He called me a mistake... but he's always acted like he loves me." As she spoke, her phone rang again, Murtasim's name flashing on the screen. She let out a groan of frustration, silencing the call with a quick swipe, not understanding why he was calling her, why he had been calling her all day, after walking away from her as he had.

"I think he loves you," Zaki stated, a note of certainty in his voice. "I heard his men were asking everyone about me and my family."

She wasn't surprised, "Yes, he's been screening my suitors and driving them away."

"Ah," Zaki responded, understanding dawning on his face. "So, you were trying to push his buttons with the suitors to get him to give in?"

"I am horrible, aren't I?" She laughed, though the sound was hollow, devoid of true humor. "At first it wasn't that, it was just... resignation. I guess...I'm scared of being alone, I've felt alone for years... and the only time I haven't felt that way was with...Murtasim. But he pushed me away, and he's supposed to be getting engaged to someone. So, I thought maybe it'd make sense to just... leave all of this behind, to not be alone. But then he got so jealous and obsessed with the suitors, so I thought he'd eventually do something... but you're so perfect that he just gave up, told me that you would keep me happy, that he couldn't." Her voice cracked as she recalled the moment, the deep-seated hurt it had caused.

He was silent for a moment, contemplating her words. "He's confusing," Zaki finally said.

"You have no idea," Meerab sighed, her eyes distant. "I have been going in circles for what feels like ages, first I convince myself that he loves me, then I talk myself out of it, then I make up a hundred theories for why he's doing what he's doing."

"Do you think he's going to come around?" Zaki asked gently.

Meerab shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted, the uncertainty a heavy chain around her heart. "And that's why I can't marry you. Because even if a part of me will be scared that he's lying, or that he'll change his mind again...I know that if he shows up at my door, and tells me he loves me, even if it's years from now, I'll cave and leave everything behind because – " She choked on a sob, the truth of her feelings overwhelming. "I love him even after all of this. It's pathetic really, but if he told me he loved me, I think I'd forget it all, the pain, the tears, the waiting."

Zaki listened, his eyes never leaving her face, his expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "Love sounds horrible," he remarked after a moment, his voice quiet but carrying a weight of its own.

Meerab let out a small, bitter laugh, a sound that was more exhale than amusement. "It is...but maybe, just maybe, it's worth it if it works out," she replied, trying to find a silver lining in the maelstrom of her feelings. She knew Zaki liked her, but she also knew he wasn't in love with her, and for that she was glad.

His response was firm, his advice ringing with a clarity that cut through her turmoil. "I think you should make him work for it before giving in. He's an idiot for hurting you like he has been." His words were spoken with a gentle conviction, a nudge for her to not forget her worth even amidst the chaos of her heart.

"I know, but weirdly I still love that idiot," Meerab sighed, the admission both a confession and a declaration. "I am sorry, Zaki, truly I am," she said, her gaze meeting his, she was struck by the depth of understanding and kindness she found there. "I know I've hurt you, and I –" She paused, the guilt gnawing at her from the inside.

"I'll get over it, Meerab, I can only say thank you for telling me now rather than going through with it," Zaki interrupted with a smile, his resilience a testament to his character. "I believe that things happen for a reason. Maybe you were meant to teach me something." His optimism was infectious, yet it only served to deepen the well of guilt within her. How could he be so understanding when she had caused him pain?

"How horrible a woman can be?" Meerab attempted a joke, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "I don't think you're horrible. I get it, I think we're all scared of being lonely in this world, and you were scared too." He shrugged. "I think what I was meant to learn was to not jump the gun so fast...I mean I barely knew you. We talked like three times over two weeks...and most of it was me talking and you scribbling down notes...but I had somehow convinced myself that you were the one."

"It's because behind all that rational nonsense is a hopeless romantic." Meerab found herself teasing.

"Or maybe I just like pretty faces." Zaki laughed, his confidence a stark contrast to the somber mood.

"Maybe both?" She mused.

He nodded. "Perhaps."

"Whoever you marry is going to be so lucky to have you in their life," Meerab said, her words sincere.

"I know," Zaki grinned.

"I feel like you should be angry at me," Meerab admitted, hating how well he was taking it. She had worried about telling him for days, going through a million scenarios, all of which ended in tears and fights.

"Would you feel better if I yelled at you? Called you a few names?" He teased, but the levity of his words couldn't lift the weight from her shoulders.

"It'd make me feel better," Meerab confessed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite the tears that still threatened to fall.

"Honestly, Meerab, I think I would have been angry if I didn't see it coming...if I had let myself fall for you more, but I had a feeling that first time. Even Alaya seemed to catch it because she asked me why you two weren't marrying each other," Zaki shared, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

The thought of the young child's insight brought a reluctant groan from Meerab. "She's three," she protested, but his next words cut to the core.

"Which means she doesn't try to reason away what she sees like adults do," Zaki pointed out.

"She's a little genius," Meerab conceded, a small laugh escaping her.

"Yeah, and she'll be onto finding herself a new chachi soon," Zaki said, a hint of melancholy in his voice.

"I hope someone wonderful who loves you the way you deserve to be loved," Meerab said, her voice soft.

"Thanks," Zaki smiled.

"Thank you for being so understanding," Meerab said, her gratitude genuine.

"I think I deserve a parting thank you hug at least?" Zaki's voice was light, but the undercurrent of finality wasn't lost on either of them. Meerab, with a semblance of a laugh, nodded and moved closer, her arms hesitantly wrapping around his neck. Zaki's embrace was solid and comforting, a respectful hand resting on her upper back. In that moment, a wave of honesty washed over her, bringing an odd sense of relief and comfort amidst the storm of emotions.

As they lingered in the embrace, Zaki leaned in, his lips pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to her forehead. It was a tender gesture, laden with care and respect, a symbolic parting gift. Meerab's eyes fluttered shut, a single tear escaping the corner of her eye. It felt like a final blessing, a whisper of what could have been.

Suddenly, there was a shift in Zaki's posture. The comforting weight of his hand on her back disappeared, and he seemed to be pulled away from her. Confused and alarmed, Meerab's eyes flew open, just in time to hear the sickening sound of a punch cutting through the night air. Her gaze darted to the source, and she saw Zaki stagger back, a hand flying to his jaw, his expression contorted in shock and pain.

Only then did Meerab's eyes find Murtasim, standing there with his fist still clenched, his breathing heavy. The fury in his stance was unmistakable, a raw display of anger and hurt that radiated off him in waves. The sound of the punch, stark and violent, reverberated through the stillness of the night, a brutal punctuation to their farewell.

"Murtasim!" she yelled, her voice laced with shock and fear. "What the hell?!!" Her words echoed into the night as she lunged forward, grabbing his arm in a desperate attempt to pull him away from Zaki. The muscles beneath his skin were tense, coiled like a spring, the heat of his anger pulsating against her palm. She felt the strain in her own muscles, the exertion of pulling back a man fueled by a rage that seemed to give him an unnatural strength.

As she finally managed to push Murtasim away, her attention snapped to Zaki, who was nursing his jaw, a grimace of pain etched across his face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling, eyes scanning his face for any sign of serious injury.

Zaki nodded slowly, his hand still rubbing his jaw, his eyes flickering with a mix of pain and anger as he shot a hard glare past her towards Murtasim.

Why was Murtasim here?

Turning back to face Murtasim, Meerab felt her own anger rising to meet his. His face was still twisted with fury, his chest heaving with each breath as he glared at Zaki.

"Zaki, can you please sit in the car and wait for me while I deal with this... this CAVEMAN!" Meerab's voice was sharp and biting as she addressed Zaki, her words laced with a venom born of confusion and hurt. As Zaki nodded, moving towards the car with a resigned understanding, Meerab heard the door open and close with a soft thud. Her eyes never left Murtasim, her gaze fiery and accusatory.

Why was Murtasim here?

Why did he punch Zaki?

Why did seeing him filled with such rage make her own blood boil?

A thousand questions swirled in her mind, each one feeding the growing storm of anger and confusion. She was angry, so incredibly angry — not just at the violence, not just at the sudden intrusion, but at the way her heart still skipped a beat at his presence, at the undeniable pull he still had on her.

With a forceful grip, she grabbed Murtasim's hand, pulling him towards the garden. The need to distance themselves from the scene, from Zaki's confused gaze, was overwhelming. The garden was dark, shrouded in shadows under the silvery glow of the moon, a surreal backdrop to their confrontation. The familiar scents of blooming flowers and fresh earth were now overlaid with the sharp tang of anger and fear.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she screamed, her voice echoing through the garden, a release of all the pent-up fear, confusion, and anger. The intensity of her own shout surprised her, a raw sound torn from somewhere deep inside.

As she glared at Murtasim, she noticed a change in him, he was different again. He was more intense, his presence more commanding than she'd seen in months. His eyes burned with a fierce anger, but there was something else, something that made her heart race with a mix of fear and an inexplicable longing. It was as if all the emotions he'd kept bottled up were now on full display, challenging her, demanding her attention.

"Meine kaha hai na mere mamlo mein taang mat ardaiya karo," she snapped at him, her words sharp, a reflection of her own rising temper and tumultuous emotions.

But Murtasim's response was equally defiant, his voice low and dangerous. "Taang nahi, pura ka pura ard jaunga," he countered, each word like a strike, ramping up the tension between them, leaving her confused.

"You have no right," she yelled back, her voice breaking with the intensity of her emotions. "We're nothing to each other, you said so yourself—" Her reminder of his words, of the pain he had inflicted on her, caused her voice to tremble, betraying the hurt that lay just beneath her anger.

"I love you," Murtasim's words cut through the night, a desperate confession that seemed to hang between them.

The words Meerab had longed to hear spilled out, so sudden, so raw. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as she processed them. Her heart, which had been a silent witness to her turmoil, now pounded loudly in her chest, a tumult of emotions sweeping through her. Longing, disbelief, fear, and skepticism mingled in a chaotic dance.

Murtasim stood before her, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reflecting a vulnerability she had seldom seen. His face, usually a mask of stoicism, was now an open book of desperation and sincerity. It was as if he was silently pleading with her, the depth of his feelings laid bare in his gaze. The love he spoke of was there, unmistakably present in his eyes.

But that had never been the crux of their problem. He had always fought against loving her, pushing her away time and again, branding her a mistake. And she feared, deep down, he would do it again. This moment was nothing more than a fleeting lapse in his resolve, a brief surrender to the jealousy that had been simmering beneath the surface. It was everything she had once yearned for, the acknowledgment she had craved. But now, standing in its stark reality, she realized it was no longer what she wanted, not like this, not birthed from a moment of weakness and confusion.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she looked at him. Those words, once her most cherished dream, now felt hollow and too late. The trail they left down her cheeks was hot, burning like the truth she couldn't ignore. Her hands trembled, her chest tightened with a pain that was all too familiar, all too fresh. The hurt was overwhelming, overshadowing the frail hope that tried to surface.

It wasn't love that flooded out from her then; it was a torrent of hurt, anger, and long-suppressed disappointment. She felt as though a dam had broken within her, releasing a flood of emotions she'd held back for far too long. The physical sensation was almost too much to bear—a tightness in her chest, a burning behind her eyes, an overwhelming need to release all the pain.

Meerab's emotions erupted in a physical outburst, her fingers jabbing into Murtasim's chest with each word, punctuating her pain and frustration. The fabric of his white kurta crumpled under her forceful prods, but it was the unyielding solidity of his chest beneath that fueled her anger further. Her voice, trembling with a blend of rage and heartbreak, was almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of her shattered expectations. "You said it was a mistake," she said, her words laced with tears, "You stole my first kiss from me, and you called it a mistake." As she spoke, memories of that kiss flooded her - a moment that had felt like she was floating, wrapped in an intensity that, if not love, was something close to it for her. And he had tainted it, reduced it to a regret, a mere error in his judgment. "You didn't even look back once, Murtasim. How am I supposed to believe you now?"

Murtasim attempted to interject, "I do love y—" but his words were lost, drowned out by the storm of her emotions.

"You don't," she snapped, her voice rising in a crescendo of pain and defiance. "All of you think you love me. But I am tired of being told I am wanted and then being treated like I am not. You pushed me away, again and again. You made it clear that you don't want to love me, that I am all wrong for you, you reminded me of it, again and again. You hate everything about me, I know you do." Her words tumbled out, relentless, unstoppable.

Murtasim's face, a mix of hurt and confusion, faltered under her onslaught. He shook his head, his mouth opening to contest her words, but she didn't give him the chance. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it approached Meerab, a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding. But as soon as his fingertips brushed against her, she recoiled sharply, stepping back with a jolt. "Don't touch me!" She snapped.

Every touch was a battle, a confrontation between her deep-seated longing for the comfort his touch once brought and the fierce determination to protect herself from further hurt. In her mind, she screamed, afraid that if she allowed him even the slightest closeness, she would crumble and give in. She wanted to. She wanted to believe his words, to fall into his arms, to tell him she loved him...but would that be enough? Why was he telling her all of this now? What changed his mind? Would his mind change again?

As Meerab stood before him, her words cascaded out in a rush, an unbridled torrent of emotions and memories. "I don't believe you anymore, I don't believe you love me," she asserted, her voice trembling with a mix of rage and heartbreak.

Make me believe it.

Murtasim's eyes widened, a clear sign of hurt flashing across them, as Meerab continued. "Because I am sure one day, you'll realize you messed up again, just like last time, and you'll leave me stranded. You'll say I was a mistake, that I am not the type of woman you should want...because I am still the same, Murtasim. Nothing has changed."

Tell me I am wrong. Tell me you love me. Tell me you'll never hurt me again.

Murtasim shook his head, trying to interject, to find a foothold in the deluge of her accusations. "Meerab, please, just - " he managed to utter, his voice a mere whisper against the torrent of her accusations.

"I still want to work and practice law. I still dislike the feudal system. I'll still do things you and your mother thing are all wrong. You'll still jump to conclusions, and you'll get tired of it. You'll make me feel what I feel with rest of them – that they don't want me, that I don't belong. You're no different." She cried, even though a part of her was telling her to shut up and listen to him, to step into his touch, to accept it.

Tell me you love me for me. Tell me you don't care about anything else.

"Meerab, that's not -" But she cut him off, not just with her words but with the force of all her pent-up emotions, refusing to let him derail her need to express the pain that had been festering inside her for too long.

"It is. Don't lie," she whispered, her voice breaking with the sheer intensity of her feelings. "I have never had to convince myself to not love you, Murtasim." Her words laid bare the depth of her love, a love that persisted despite every reason he gave her to extinguish it. "I fell in love with you that summer we got into an accident. I loved you the summer you ignored me completely and in the months that followed." Her admissions were a testament to the unwavering nature of her love, a love that endured even when it seemed most hopeless.

Tell me you loved me then too.

Murtasim's eyes were a turmoil of emotions, shifting rapidly from defiance to pain as her words struck deep.

"I was going to tell you I loved you the summer you kissed me and then told me that I was all wrong for you. I – I loved you all this time – even when your words gave me plenty of reasons not to...because I looked at your actions. While I was finding reasons to love you, you were always finding reasons to not love me, reasons for why I wasn't right for you – and you'll continue to, because those reasons will always be real, they won't change."

Tell me I am not a mistake. Tell me I've got it all wrong.

Murtasim stood before her, his body tense, his jaw clenched, his hands opening and closing in a rhythm of frustration and desperation. The sight of him, so visibly affected, so torn apart by the same turmoil that was eating away at her, only added to the complexity of her emotions.

"Listen to me," he began, only to be cut off again by the relentless wave of her grievances as she shook her head.

Make me listen. Tell me why I should.

"When I say I love you, I mean I love you, as you are. But you can't say that," she continued, her voice now a mere whisper, heavy with sorrow and resignation.

Tell me I am wrong. Tell me you love me as I am.

"I've always flown towards you, but you've always flown away. And I—I can't spend the rest of my life chasing you." Her indictment was clear, her disappointment palpable.

Tell me why. Tell me I'll never have to chase you again.

"I've been begging you for weeks now, and you did absolutely nothing...and you think you can just show up and tell me you love me? You think I'll believe it?"

Make me believe it. Tell me why.

She had laid bare her heart and her hurt, the raw and unvarnished truth of her feelings. And Murtasim, still shaking his head, still clearly wrestling with a torrent of emotions, looked at her with a desperation that mirrored her own.

When Murtasim spoke those three words again, "I love you," they sent an unexpected jolt through Meerab. It was a phrase she had longed to hear, yet now it struck her with a mixture of fear, skepticism, and a fragment of hope that she had been desperately trying to suppress. "I really do," he added, his voice earnest, his eyes seeking hers, looking for any sign of belief.

Why don't I want to listen?

Meerab's heart felt like it was caught in a vise, tightening with each syllable. She wanted to believe him, to throw herself into the promise of those words, but the memory of past hurts, the echoes of his previous rejections, formed a barricade around her heart.

"You'll change your mind again," she cried, her voice breaking with the strain of holding back a flood of emotions.

Tell me you won't.

He shook his head, his hands gently cradling her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked down her cheeks. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry," he whispered repeatedly, each apology infused with a depth of regret that she felt resonate within her. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

Why don't I believe you?

"I love you, and I need you to listen to me, Meerab," he pleaded, his forehead resting against hers.

Why do I not want to listen?

The closeness was overwhelming; she could feel the warmth of his breath, the slight tremor in his touch, the wet trail of his own tears mingling with hers. And for a moment, she could almost let herself believe that the love he professed was real and enduring.

But what if it changed again? How would she live?

The past was too present, a shadow that loomed over every tender gesture and whispered promise. She had felt his love before, or what she believed to be love, and yet he had pushed her away, time and time again. The fear that he would do it again was a living thing within her, clawing at the fragile hope his words had ignited. She wouldn't be able to live if he pushed her away again after making her believe he loved her.

Tell me you won't push me away again. Tell me why you did it in the first place.

She shook her head, a silent, tearful "no" falling from her lips as she pushed him away.

Why am I pushing you away? Hold me.

The space between them felt like a chasm, filled with all the words unsaid, the pain unhealed. "Give me a chance to explain," he begged, his voice a mix of desperation and determination.

Why now?

Meerab's resolve was suddelnly a fortress built from weeks of hurt and confusion. "I've been begging for weeks, but I am done now, Murtasim, with you and with this hot and cold. Leave me alone," she said.

Don't.

The words were a shield, a defense against the hope that threatened to break her. Inside, a part of her screamed in protest, yearning to accept his apology, to return to the warmth of his embrace, to confess her enduring love.

"Meerab, please." Murtasim whispered.

Meerab stepped back, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself in a protective embrace. It wasn't just a physical act of distancing; it was a desperate attempt to shield her battered heart from further anguish. She noticed the tears in Murtasim's eyes, a rare sign of vulnerability from him, but she was too afraid, too weary to interpret what they might mean.

Why are you crying now?

Yet, the sight of his tears, so alien on his face, sent a jolt of fear through her. Part of her, a part that she had been trying to silence, yearned to reach out and comfort him, to wipe away his tears as he had wiped away hers. But the larger, more dominant part held her back, the fear of being hurt again forming a barrier she dared not cross. For she knew, that if she let him in and he pushed her away again, she wouldn't be able to survive.

She knew, deep down, that if she lingered any longer, her resolve would crumble. The part of her that ached for his touch, for his love, was dangerously close to overriding the fortress of defenses she had meticulously built. Her thoughts spun in a chaotic dance, each twirl a stinging lash of the pain and confusion he had brought into her life.

Yet, amidst the tumult, a quiet truth whispered - she would give in, eventually, but not now, not like this. She needed space, time to sort through the labyrinth of her emotions. She hadn't anticipated this confrontation, not now; she had thought it would take months, maybe years, for him to come for her if ever at all.

With a final look, she turned and stomped away, like he had, needing the distance. It was both a farewell and a plea for understanding, a silent scream for the time and space she desperately needed.

"I need you to get me out of here, please." Meerab said as she slid into Zaki's car, her voice strained and urgent. It was an escape, a retreat from the battlefield, for just a moment.

Zaki, ever understanding, asked no questions, merely starting the car and driving away. As they pulled away, Meerab's gaze lingered on the figure of Murtasim, shrinking in the rearview mirror. Her mind was a whirl of emotions, each one a sharp sting in the rawness of her heart.

Come after me, chase me, make me believe your words.

The car's movement was a physical relief, a signal that she was moving away from the source of her pain, yet it did little to soothe the turmoil within her.

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As the car moved through the emptying streets aimlessly, the blur of passing streetlights cast a flickering glow on Meerab's face, each one a brief flash of light in the overwhelming darkness that seemed to envelope her. The quiet hum of the car engine was a steady, almost soothing backdrop, yet it paled against the loud, tumultuous thoughts racing through her mind.

She was trying to process it all, the weight of Murtasim's confession pressing down on her. Why, after all this time, after all the pain and distance, was she pushing him away just when he had uttered the words she had longed to hear? Her thoughts were a jumble, a chaotic mix of longing, disbelief, and fear. She realized that the possibility that he might not truly mean what he said terrified her more than the thought of never hearing those words had.

A part of her, a part that she was trying desperately to silence, wanted to turn the car around, to return to him, to demand an explanation. How could he push her away for so long, tell her he couldn't keep her happy, and then come back as if nothing had happened, declaring his love as if it could erase everything? How dare he now make her heart flutter, offering her everything she ever wanted at a time when it was hardest to accept?

If he had spoken sooner, at any point, I would have given in...but how can I now? she thought to herself, her heart aching with the turmoil of her emotions. Pushing down the part of herself that whispered she already believed him, she sat there, rigid, as they drove further into the night.

"What happened?" Zaki finally asked, his voice breaking the silence that had filled the car for too long.

"Murtasim just told me that he loves me," Meerab replied, her voice a mix of resignation and confusion.

Zaki let out a low whistle. "So why are you here and not there?" he asked, a note of understanding in his tone.

Meerab looked out the window, the city lights streaking by in a blur. "Because I don't know if I can believe him," she whispered, more to herself than to Zaki. "Because I'm afraid of what it means if I do." Her voice trailed off. "I am scared...why now, and why don't I believe it even though I've wanted to hear exactly that from him... it doesn't make sense, how can he do all he did and still love me – how can he put me through all of this and say he loves me, nothing has changed," Meerab cried, the words tumbling out in a torrent of confusion and fear. The streetlights continued to blur past, each one a fleeting moment of illumination in the darkness of her thoughts.

Zaki laughed gently, a sound that held no mirth, but rather a sad acknowledgment of the absurdity of love. "You believe him, don't lie to yourself, Meerab," he said, his voice steady and sure.

She knew he was right, somewhere deep down, a part of her did believe, but the fear of being hurt again overshadowed that fragile belief. "But why now?" she groaned, voicing the question that had been haunting her since Murtasim's confession.

Zaki hummed thoughtfully. "I know you don't want to hear this, Meerab...but maybe he has a reason. I don't know him well, but from what I have seen...he's not an unreasonable man...I mean even the punch was warranted...if he loves you and he still pushed you away, there might be a reason. And something must have changed, did you ask him?"

She shook her head, the motion carrying a sheepish reluctance, her eyes not quite meeting Zaki's. "What if he says something stupid like he didn't realize he loved me?" The notion twisted in her gut, ludicrous yet terrifyingly plausible. The mere thought made her feel small, unwanted.

Her voice dropped, a murmur laden with a deeper, more pervasive fear. "What if he confirms it all? That he tried to not love me, that I am all wrong for him, and he loves me not because of but in in spite of who I am..." Her words trailed off, the implications hanging heavily between them. The possibility that Murtasim might view their love as something to be endured rather than cherished was more painful than any outright rejection. The idea that he could see her as something to be tolerated, a square peg he had tried and failed to fit into a round hole, was unbearable.

For Meerab, such an admission from Murtasim wouldn't just be heartbreaking; it would shatter the very foundation of how she viewed herself and their relationship. It would confirm her deepest fears—that she was fundamentally unlovable as she was, that her very essence was something to be overcome rather than embraced. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears at the thought, the weight of years of self-doubt and longing pressing down upon her. If Murtasim's love came with caveats, with conditions and reservations, it would feel like a hollow victory, a love fraught with the specter of inadequacy and the constant threat of withdrawal.

As the car moved through the night, the silence stretched out, heavy and full of unspoken thoughts. Meerab felt caught in a limbo of hope and despair, yearning for a love that was full and unconditional, yet bracing herself for the possibility of a love that came with asterisks and footnotes.

Zaki sighed, his voice laced with a weary patience. "So, what do you want to do? Drive around for another hour?"

She shook her head, the motion small and uncertain. "Do you think he means it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I am sure he does," Zaki replied, his conviction sounding like a lifeline in the swirling sea of her doubts.

"What if he hurts me again? I don't think I can take it another time," she confessed, the fear of reopening old wounds making her voice tremble. The thought of giving her heart to Murtasim again, only to have it broken, was paralyzing.

"Love is a risk, Meerab," Zaki said, his voice calm and resolute. "You two have to talk and figure it out. If it makes sense to trust him, then you work on building that trust together, and if it doesn't, you let him go." His words were a gentle reminder, a beacon of logic in the emotional storm she was navigating.

She wouldn't let him go, she knew that. "Do you always think so rationally?" she muttered, her voice a mixture of admiration and frustration directed at Zaki's calm demeanor.

He laughed, a sound that was both acknowledging and comforting, and nodded affirmatively.

Meerab sighed, a deep, soulful exhalation that seemed to carry the weight of her turmoil. "We both know I am not going to let him go," she confessed, a reluctant admission of her inability to sever the ties that bound her to Murtasim.

"So, you're angry at yourself because of that?" he asked, probing gently into the heart of her internal conflict.

She groaned, the sound ripe with confusion and irritation. "I don't know, how can he just show up and say that now of all times? Of course, I should be angry, he's an idiot, I hate him," she vented, her words a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Zaki laughed again, the sound easy and understanding. "You love him," he stated simply, his voice carrying a truth that was both undeniable and inconvenient.

"I told him I was done and to leave me alone," she muttered, a feeble attempt to assert her decision amidst the chaos of her feelings.

"He's been following us for over an hour now," Zaki informed her, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror.

Meerab looked in her side mirror to see if it was true. And there it was - the sight of Murtasim's black Mercedes trailing behind them, both infuriating and strangely exhilarating. It was proof that he was there, that he cared enough to follow, but it also felt like a challenge to her resolve.

She sighed, "That asshole, I should just drive around to make him suffer." Her words were an attempt to sound defiant, to mask the complexity of her emotions with humor.

Zaki laughed again, though his laughter was tinged with a hint of caution. "He'll kill me," he joked, yet the undertone of seriousness was clear.

"Why?" she muttered, her question rhetorical, yet seeking some semblance of understanding.

"Well, to him, I am the man that's getting engaged to the woman he loves, the woman who got in the car with me after he confessed his feelings for her," Zaki pointed out, laying bare the reality of the situation.

Meerab sighed, her emotions a tempest of anger, love, and a begrudging hope. "I should make him suffer." She wanted to punish Murtasim, to make him feel a fraction of the pain and confusion he had caused her. Yet, there was also a fear of escalating the situation, of turning their already complicated relationship into something even more tumultuous.

"That's not you." Zaki pointed out.

He was right.

"I am willing to bet he's suffered enough, Meerab, put him out of his misery...or call me if he's an idiot, I know many ways to kill a man without raising suspicions." Zaki joked.

She nodded.

She told Murtasim to leave her alone, yet now that he was literally following her, she found herself wavering, a begrudging hope that refused to be silenced welling up in her.

"Can you pull over when it's safe please?" she finally asked Zaki, knowing Murtasim would stop right behind them. They needed to talk, and she didn't want to have the conversation in her garden again, not when her parents or the house staff would come out to investigate.

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A/N: Sooooo, what do you think? Whatever shall happen next? How will Murtasim tell Meerab all that he has been hiding? Will she believe him? How will she react? And why is Murtasim doing all of this now...what did Shahmeer say to him. Hehehe.