Hey everyone!

First of all, I'm so sorry for the late update - I know it's been a while, and I truly feel bad for keeping you all waiting. Life's been a complete mess lately, and I had a lot to deal with, which is why this chapter took longer than expected.

But I really hope you enjoy this one! If you do, please don't forget to vote, drop a comment, and follow me on Stck.me and Instagram. Your support means the world to me! ♡♡♡

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Author's pov::

Seeing Meher in such anger made Amaal nervous. She was already feeling down, so she quietly sat down, looking at the floor. For a while, Meher stood against the wall, staring at Amaal, and then suddenly, in a fit of anger, she shouted, "Amaal, are you naive, but how can you be so clueless? Do you have any idea what will happen when mom finds out about this? It will be catastrophic!"

Amaal, still trying to understand what Meher was talking about, bravely looked up and asked, "Baji, what are you talking about? I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Seriously, Amaal, you really don't get it?!" Meher exclaimed, sitting down on a chair beside Amaal. "Amaal, he is married and he has a daughter and you kniw this How can you even think of destroying someone else's life like this?"

Because you know you can't do anything like this because you are a heart of gold so why are you hurting yourself by seeing dream of him

Amaal , on the verge of tears, replied, "Meher, I... I would never break anyone's home. I promise you, I won't let mom find out about anything. Please, you have to promise me you won't tell her anything."

Amaal's face went completely pale, as if all the color had drained out with the weight of Meher's words. Her lips quivered, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and then... she broke.

Falling to her knees, she clutched the edge of Meher's kurta like a child desperate for reassurance.

"Baji... I love him," she whispered, her voice barely audible but soaked in emotion.

"Please... don't take him away from me. Don't snatch my feelings away from me."

She slowly lowered her head onto Meher's lap, her sobs breaking through the silence like waves crashing against rocks.

"I swear on everything I hold dear... I didn't even know he was married when I first started feeling for him. And when I did... I tried, Baji. I tried so hard to stop. To kill this love. But..." her voice cracked, "every time I pushed him away, my heart ran back to him harder. Deeper. Madder."

Meher's hands, once frozen in anger, slowly lifted. Her chest rose and fell with the weight of her sister's pain. She looked down-at Amaal's trembling shoulders, her tear-streaked face buried in her lap.

And then... the wall around Meher's heart began to crumble.

She cupped Amaal's face in her hands, lifted it gently, and for a moment, their eyes locked. Two hearts, one storm.

Tears spilled freely from Meher's eyes now, as she whispered back,

"You stupid girl... why didn't you tell me sooner?"

And then, without another word, she pulled Amaal into her arms - two sisters wrapped in silence, pain, and a love that neither betrayal nor truth could undo.

After a long moment wrapped in Meher’s arms, Amaal slowly pulled away, her cheeks damp with tears and eyes swollen from crying. Meher tucked a strand of hair behind Amaal’s ear and exhaled deeply.

“Go wash your face, sweetheart,” she said softly, her tone no longer sharp, but tired and warm.

“I’ll set the table. And… Ammi will only be back tomorrow morning. The weather’s gotten worse — she’s stuck for the night.”

Amaal simply nodded, too drained to speak. She turned around and walked to the washroom like a ghost drifting through fog.

By the time she came downstairs, her face fresh but her heart still heavy, Meher was already at the dining table — waiting. Plates were neatly set, steam curling from warm rotis, and the aroma of daal filled the air like a quiet comfort.

The two sisters sat in silence, eating together. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t awkward — just fragile. As if even breathing too loud would shatter the moment.

And then —

Amaal’s phone buzzed on the table, screen lighting up with a name.

Fatima.

Before Amaal could reach for it, Meher grabbed the phone and answered.

But before she could even say a word, Fatima’s voice blasted through the speaker.

“Amaal! Are you okay? Look, I’m serious — just take a couple days off. After what happened today, you need to. It’s too much. You shouldn’t have to face all that right now.”

Meher froze.

Her eyes snapped toward Amaal, sharp and confused. She slowly lowered the phone from her ear and looked straight at her sister.

“What happened at college today, Amaal?”

Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it — like a knife wrapped in velvet.

Amaal didn’t look up. Her fingers clenched around her fork, her appetite vanishing. She stared at the plate like it held all the answers she didn’t want to say out loud.

Meher’s voice suddenly cut through the air, sharper than before.

“Amaal, do you know what I’m asking?”

Her tone wasn’t angry — it was urgent. Demanding.

Amaal slowly lifted her eyes, her lashes wet, her expression hesitant — like a child afraid of being scolded. She took a shaky breath… and then, with trembling words, she told Meher everything that had happened at college.

Every whisper. Every stare. Every humiliating word.

Meher didn’t say a thing.

She just stood up from her chair, walked over to Amal from behind — and wrapped her in a tight, silent hug. Her arms circled her little sister with a fierce protectiveness, as if shielding her from a world too cruel.

She gently stroked Amaal’s arm and whispered softly,

“I’m sorry, Ammu… You were already hurting, and I piled on more. I shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier.”

She rested her chin lightly on Amal’s shoulder.

“Hey… don’t stress, okay? Take your time. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Amaal didn’t say a word.

She just reached up and held Meher’s hand — quietly, tightly — like it was the only anchor she had left.

After a few minutes, they both returned to their plates. This time, the silence between them wasn’t heavy — it was healing.

Once dinner was done, Meher grabbed her bag and headed out for her errands, throwing one last glance toward Amal before leaving.

But Amaal…

The house suddenly felt too big. Too quiet. Too empty.

And no matter how much she tried — her heart just wouldn’t sit still.

The walls of the house felt like they were closing in — too much silence, too much noise inside her head. Amal couldn’t breathe in that stillness anymore. So she stepped out into the night, chasing peace with quiet footsteps.

Kashmir, in that moment, looked like a poem written in sorrow.

The wind brushed past her cheek like a lover too afraid to stay, the scent of pine and mist curling through the air. Leaves rustled like whispered secrets, and the cold touched her skin — but her heart was heavier than the chill.

She walked.

Without purpose. Without direction. Only pain to guide her feet.

"Why does it always hurt more when you try to forget?" she thought, staring up at the moon, half-hidden by clouds.

"Why is silence louder when you're the only one hearing it?"

She didn’t even notice how far she’d wandered — until the sound of voices snapped her out of her daze.

Flashing police lights blinked in the distance like warnings. The road was dim, and a few officers stood in a cluster near a jeep. One man stood apart, clearly in a heated discussion with them.

At first, she almost turned away.

"It’s none of my business," she told herself. "There’s enough mess in my life already."

But something about the urgency in that man's voice... something tugged at her.

She moved closer.

“Adaab, janab… sab khairiyat?” she asked gently.

One of the officers sighed in frustration.

“There’s a traveler here, mohtarma. Says he needs to go to the hospital but lost his ID. In times like these, how do we let him pass without verification? You know how Kashmir is right now. One wrong move and we’re the ones burned for it.”

“If you want to vouch for me and come with me, be my guest. But I have to go it's urgent the man said

Amal turned slowly, her curiosity stirred. Her gaze landed on the man the officers were pointing to.

The moonlight spilled onto his profile — his eyes and a ring on his hand , the collar of his dark overcoat slightly upturned against the wind.

And then...

her heart dropped.

Like a flash of memory — she remembered that voice. That posture.

The way he clenched his jaw when frustrated.

The way his eyes looking

Even in the dim light, even with shadows dancing across his face — she knew.

It was him.

And the world around her seemed to blur.

"Why him, again?" her heart screamed.

"What are the chances? What are the odds that this city, this night, this moment — would bring him back to me?"

The cold wind bit at her skin. But inside, she was burning.

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                    Thank you ❤️