Maryam and Aahil| Completed ✔️

Chapter 4| I am sorry

Jalil stared at his phone in disbelief. He had seen her message – those three painful words, "I hate you." It was as if his heart had been torn from his chest. His daughter's anger had wounded him deeply, and he couldn't comprehend how their relationship had reached such a breaking point. He wept, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his emotions.

Amidst his tears, Jalil knew he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, trembling fingers dialing Maryam's number. He wanted to apologize, to tell her that he loved her more than anything, that her words had cut him to the core. But before he could hit the call button, a sharp pain gripped his chest.

It was as if the universe itself had conspired to twist the knife in his heart. His breath hitched, his hand clutching his chest as he struggled to breathe. Jalil suffered a heart attack, the pain overwhelming him. As he gasped for air, the phone slipped from his grasp, falling to the floor.

Maryam's mother- Hamna, by the time she rushed him to the hospital, it was too late. Her husband, her partner in life, was gone. Her cries filled the room as she held his lifeless form, her grief a guttural wail of anguish.

The news of Jalil's passing had come unexpectedly that morning, leaving Aahil in shock. He had immediately known that he had to be there for Maryam, to support her in this time of unimaginable grief. They rushed to Mirzapur, Aahil driving as fast as he could while Maryam's heart raced with a mix of anticipation and dread.

The journey that should have taken them a few hours felt like an eternity. Every minute felt like an eternity, each second a reminder of the reality they were hurtling towards. Maryam's mind was a blur of memories, of moments spent with her father – the laughter, the advice, the love that had always been a constant presence in her life.

As they finally arrived at the village, the scene before them was one of somberness. The air was heavy with the weight of grief, the faces of the villagers reflecting the sorrow that had gripped the community. Aahil parked the car and turned to Maryam, his own eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and concern.

Maryam's sobs had only intensified. Her own pain was now mingled with guilt and regret. She knew her message had reached him, and the thought that her words might have contributed to his distress was an unbearable burden.

As she entered the house, Maryam turned to face her mother, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and longing. But her hopes were shattered as her mother's gaze met hers with a coldness that cut deep. Hamna's eyes were red from crying, her face etched with sorrow, but her expression held none of the warmth that Maryam had desperately sought.

"You've come," Hamna said, her voice carrying a bitterness that sent a shiver down Maryam's spine. "You've finally come to see what your anger has done."

Maryam's heart ached as she tried to find the words, the apologies that could mend the chasm between them. "Mom, I didn't mean it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I never wanted this."

Hamna's gaze remained icy, her grief seemingly fueling her anger. "Your love for that man," she spat out, her voice dripping with resentment, "ate away at my husband. Your stubbornness, your defiance – they've taken him away from us."

Tears welled up in Maryam's eyes, her voice a desperate plea. "No, Mom, please... I loved Baba. I didn't want this to happen."

Her mother's words cut like a knife, her accusations casting a shadow over Maryam's already shattered heart.

As Hamna's grief turned to anger, she was blinded by her own pain and sorrow. So she lashed out, the weight of her loss manifesting as misplaced blame. "It's because of you!" she screamed at Maryam. "Your hate, your anger – it killed him!"