Shattered Dreams

Chapter 34

Safiya's pov:

After baking the cookies, we headed outside and sat under the shade of the shesham tree.

"Up for a bike race?" Fahad asked, adjusting his shirt sleeves, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and amusement.

"Oh, so my teacher wants to see how well I can ride?" I teased, flashing him a playful smile.

"Of course," Fahad replied with a grin.

"Let's get suited up," he said excitedly, and we made our way to his collection of motorbikes. Fahad helped me put on my helmet, and as we locked eyes through the visors, he asked, "Are you ready, future wifey?"

I blushed, replying, "Of course, future husband."

I smiled, remembering the message I had sent him: "I'll shift my gears, not you—"

"And I'll cheat death, not you," he responded with a mischievous wink, his mouth curving into a devilish smirk that sent a thrill through me. I knew what that smirk meant—we were in for a wild race.

We each got on our bikes, engines roaring, and took off. Fahad sped ahead, and I chased after him, the wind whipping around us as we tore down the road. We were like two free birds, soaring away from the chaos of the world.

Fahad weaved between two cars effortlessly, slowing down just enough to call out, "Hit it and follow me!" I didn't hesitate—I trusted him more than I trusted myself. The adrenaline surged through me as I pushed the bike harder, the wind growing wilder.

Our eyes met again, and we held each other's gaze, neither of us willing to look away. The world around us became a blur, speeding past as if time itself was rushing to keep up. The bike beneath me purred like a content beast, as if enjoying the ride as much as we were.

Then, out of nowhere, a car sped towards me at an alarming pace. I barely had time to react before Fahad shot forward, crashing his bike to protect me. My heart stopped.

I quickly jumped off my bike and ran towards him, my mind unable to process what had just happened. Fahad stumbled towards me, struggling for breath. He ripped off his gloves and collapsed to his knees, then onto the ground.

I rushed to him, my hands trembling as I cradled his head in my lap, my whole body vibrating with shock and fear. The world around me seemed to fall apart as I whispered his name, desperate for him to be okay.

"Fahad!" I screamed helplessly. "I loved you, Safiya," he whispered, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. "Fahad sb theek ho jayega aakhein kholiye," I muttered, trying to convince myself as I moved to call for help. But before I could, he grabbed my face gently with his hands, his voice soft as he recited, "La ilaha illa Allah Muhammad Rasulu Allah."

Then there was nothing but silence. His head rested in my lap, his trousers soaked with blood near his knee. Blood streamed from the sides and back of his neck, pooling beneath him.

Mene unse kaha tha unke ooper Laal rang, ache lagte hai lekin aaj mujhe Fahad Khoon ke iss laal Rang me ache nhi lag rhe the.

Within minutes, he was rushed to the hospital. My mind raced, but my body felt numb—I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, I couldn't even think straight.

All I could see was Fahad's face in my mind—his eyes filled with tears, his nose bleeding, as he tried to lift my head.

Ayyan emerged from the operating room with the other doctors and said, "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry for what?" I asked, dazed, not comprehending his words. My eyes remained fixed on the door of the operating room as Ayyan repeated:

"Fahad Abbasi is no more... he's gone."