Destined Strangers

Chapter 17

"Your eyes have wandered thousand of miles in joy of illusion, 'to see one unknown beautiful soul.'"

Jaweria kamil

🌙

As the darkness outside deepens, casting a mysterious shadow over the city, the car's interior seems to grow smaller, intensifying the uncomfortable silence between them.

Sania sits beside Hassan, his stern profile illuminated only by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. His eyes remain fixed on the road ahead, revealing a different Hassan, far removed from the warm smile that greeted her earlier that morning.

His face, normally radiant with warmth, now wears a mask of quiet fury. When she sees him outside the hospital, she pauses for a moment, surprised by his presence, but gets into the car anyway. Once inside, she notices his stern expression hasn't changed. She remains silent, unsure what to ask, especially since she is still reeling from her own unsettling experience.

After gazing out of the window for a while, her gaze drifts to her phone, lying dormant in her lap. As she lifts it, the screen springs to life, revealing a barrage of missed calls from him.

"Hassan?" she decides to break the silence, as it feels suffocating.

His gaze stays steadfast on the road, his expressions unyielding. The silence between them grows thicker, like an impenetrable fog. "Fine, I won't answer," she thinks, shaking off the lingering unease.

"I'm talking to you, Hassan," she repeats, her voice firm.

"A lack of response often suggests a person is not in the mood to engage in a conversation," he replies, his tone unmistakable. She pauses, taken aback by the chill in his voice. She had never expected him to talk to her like this, especially not over something relatively insignificant. The sting of his words lingers, but she refuses to let her emotions betray her.

"Is this really how you will talk to me now?" she asks, her voice steady and measured, concealing her emotions beneath a veneer of calmness, a habit honed from years of masking her feelings.

"Tell me, then, how should I talk to you?" His voice is low and even, yet vibrates with intensity. His face, once indifferent, now flushes with restrained emotion, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and concern. She remains silent, still reeling from the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"I've been frantically searching for you like a madman for two hours. I've been calling you nonstop until I was exhausted, and you casually left your phone here and went shopping?" His words drip with frustration and betrayal. She remains silent.

"Why didn't you tell me? Did you forget what happened a few days ago?" His questions hang in the air like a challenge.

"I told you to keep your location on, not turn it on and leave your phone behind," he continues.

"Listen to me first, at least..." she struggles to maintain her composure, but her voice trembles despite her best efforts, revealing her fragile emotional state. Tears threaten to spill once more, lodging in her throat like a painful obstruction.

"You forgot, didn't you?" he presses.

"I wish I could forget..." she interrupts, her voice cracking. Tears flow uncontrollably, blurring her vision like a watercolor painting in the rain.

Fortunately, he stops talking when she interrupts him. The silence that follows is oppressive, heavy with unresolved emotions.

"I didn't leave my phone behind intentionally," she clarifies, her voice laced with defensiveness.