The morning sun peeked through grey clouds, but it brought no warmth.

Zoya stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair with trembling hands. Her eyes were swollen from the night before, her lips pressed together to keep from crying again.

Downstairs, there was a quiet buzz in the house. No shouting. No tension. Just a heavy silence that threatened to break her.

In the drawing room, Akif sat upright, his hands on his knees, back straight—waiting.

Zoya’s father entered and looked at him, then at his wife.

“I want to speak with your family,” he said firmly.

Akif nodded. “Of course, sir.”

He took out his phone and dialed.

His mother picked up.

“Ammi,” he began. “Zoya’s father would like to speak with you and Abbu... respectfully.”

There was a pause before the phone was handed over. Akif passed the phone to Zoya’s father with both hands, eyes lowered in respect.

“Assalamu Alaikum,” her father greeted, eyes sharp.

“Wa Alaikum Assalam,” Akif’s father replied on the other side.

“I’m going to ask this once. Do you know about your son’s relationship with my daughter?”

“We do,” his father said gently. “He told us everything. We raised him with the kind of respect that would never allow him to bring disgrace to someone else’s child.”

Zoya’s father stayed silent for a long second.

“And you support this?”

“We support what is right. And we trust our son’s decisions. But more than that… we care about the girl he loves. Even if she were not to be part of our family, we’d still pray for her peace.”

Zoya's father closed his eyes.

A beat passed. Two.

Then he quietly handed the phone back to Akif.

No word of approval. No declaration.

But something in the air changed.

Zoya, watching from the stairs, felt it.

He didn’t curse. He didn’t shout. He didn’t say no.

He just nodded once.

And in her world… that was the loudest yes she could have hoped for.

---

They met one last time near the park before he was to leave.

The grass was still wet with last night’s rain, the wind carrying the scent of earth and heartbreak.

She stood under the shade of the old gulmohar tree, arms folded, trying to stop her tears.

Akif approached slowly, his face composed, but his eyes were stormy.

“This is the worst goodbye,” she whispered.

“I hate it,” he admitted, his voice cracking.

She stepped closer.

“So, what now?”

“I go back,” he said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Finish college. Start the company. Become someone your father can't question. And then…”

He paused.

“Then I come take you home.”

Zoya buried her face into his chest. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Because we love too much.”

She sobbed softly, the kind that rips from the chest like wind through broken windows.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “What if we change?”

“We won’t.”

“What if they don’t let me see you?”

“Then I’ll wait twice as long.”

She pulled back, hands cupping his face.

“I will never love anyone else. No matter how long it takes.”

His smile was broken. “Me neither. I already belong to you.”

Their foreheads touched.

And in that silence, the world seemed to still. Just for a moment.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. It lingered. Burned. Etched itself into her soul.

“You are my home,” he whispered.

And then… he stepped back.

Zoya didn’t try to stop him.

Because this time, he wasn’t leaving her behind.

He was walking toward their future.

And she would be there—waiting.

Even if it took forever.

---

So emotional? Because I myself cried in this few chapters while writing...ahh (😭) Inlove with my own story. Pheww calm down ~

~anniewrites🔥❤️