And then he said it—quietly, casually, like it wasn’t the deadliest blow yet. Like it wouldn’t haunt me later.
“She might have my past, raspberry… But you—you—have my future.”
I blinked. And just like that, the ground under me shifted. Again.
He leaned back slightly, but the heat between us didn’t waver—it only tightened, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface, thunder rolling under skin.
His eyes—God, those eyes—weren’t teasing anymore. They were serious. Dark. Unapologetically real. The kind of look that didn’t play games. The kind that held wars and promises both.
“I wasn’t going to say it tonight,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth curving just barely—more tender than smug, more reverent than reckless. “Didn’t want to scare you off.”
A pause. His gaze flickered to my lips, lingered.
“Not that you’re the type to scare easy.”
I didn’t breathe.
Couldn’t.
My entire body felt too alive, every inch of me strung tight, like I was seconds away from unraveling under the weight of his voice.
“But then you started with that whole ‘you-have-a-fiancée’ routine again,” he went on, and his tone had dropped—low and rough, worn with something heavier than anger. “And I figured… if you’re going to keep accusing me of sin, I might as well confess the biggest one.”
I blinked. Hard.
Lilac was a warm weight in my lap, fast asleep, oblivious to the way my entire soul felt like it had just taken a nosedive from a skyscraper. Because suddenly… nothing was casual anymore. Nothing was safe.
“I love you, Safa,” he said. Just like that. Like it was gravity. Like it had always been true, and I’d just never been brave enough to look down.
"I’ve loved you since I was nineteen,” he continued, voice quieter now—bare, almost broken. “Since I was just a boy. Since the day you smiled at me after I gave you that keychain. You looked so damn beautiful. So ethereal. So… precious."
My breath caught.
"I don’t think I ever stood a chance after that,” he added, his voice nearly a whisper now. “You ruined me. Quietly. Softly. Completely.”
The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was loud. Loud with my heartbeat. Loud with the truth. Loud with everything I’d tried so hard to ignore.
And I— I didn’t even know what to say.
Because somewhere deep inside, a girl who’d never even had her name spelled right on a coffee cup— Had just been told she was someone's entire life.
I didn’t say anything for a long moment.
Because how could I? My mouth opened, but nothing came out—not sass, not sarcasm, not a single clever quip I usually arm myself with. Nothing.
Because I wasn’t the smug, bitchy version of myself tonight. Not anymore. Not when he looked at me like that. Not when he said that.
I was no longer the girl who threw walls like daggers. I was the girl who used to write his name in the margins of my textbooks. The girl who cried into her pillow at night, whispering why did You take him from me into the darkness. The girl who whispered Ameen to duas she couldn’t even say out loud.
I was seventeen again.
And Allah— Allah gave me another chance. To see him. To love him. To be his.
“I hated you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I hated you so much for leaving. For making me believe I didn’t matter.”
He stilled.
“I cried like an idiot on my bedroom floor. I waited for a message, a sign—anything. But you were just gone.” My voice broke then, stupid and soft and soaked with a kind of ache I thought I’d buried. “And I—I begged Allah to take it away. The feelings. The love. All of it. But I couldn’t stop loving you, Mahib. I couldn’t.”
He didn’t speak. Didn’t even breathe.
So I looked at him. Really looked at him.
“You were the boy I loved before I even knew what love was,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks now, shameless and quiet. “And I think… I think you always will be. No matter how much I pretend. No matter how much I fight it.”
Lilac stirred slightly, her little head twitching in her sleep.
And I laughed through my tears, wiping them away with the sleeve of my sweater. “God, you’re still such a menace.”
He leaned forward then, slowly, reverently—as if I was holy.
“No,” he whispered, brushing a single tear off my cheek with his thumb, “You are. You always were. The softest, fiercest kind of menace. Mine.”
And this time— I didn’t stop him when he slowly pulled me in a soft hug. Because for once in my life, I belonged to the moment. And the moment… belonged to him.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
