The Moment She Saw Him

Part 33

Sehar

Five years had passed, and everything felt like a distant memory, yet somehow, it all still lingered in the corners of my mind. Life had changed so much since those days of endless exams, sleepless nights, and complicated feelings. I had done it—I became an interior designer, just like I dreamed. I didn't just stop there. I started my own business. It wasn't easy, but each little success gave me a reason to smile and believe in myself again.Every day now feels like a step toward the person I was always meant to be—optimistic, passionate, and driven. I've worked hard to let go of the girl I used to be, the one who overthought every word and let her emotions cloud her happiness. I'm slowly learning how to enjoy the small things again—like how sunlight falls perfectly into a newly designed room or the laughter of satisfied clients.And then there's Hamza. I hadn't seen him in years, but I heard bits and pieces. He had accomplished his goals too. He started multiple businesses, one of them being a gym that had quickly become popular. People spoke of him like he was a success story—a young entrepreneur who worked tirelessly and made it big.I wondered sometimes about how he'd changed. People said he had grown wiser and calmer over the years. They even said he hadn't talked to any girls since our time together. That part puzzled me. Was it a choice? A way to find himself? I couldn't be sure.But then there was Malaika. I heard he had finally apologized to her, years after their breakup. He told her the truth about everything. Maybe that was his way of finding closure, of making peace with the mistakes he made. I couldn't deny that it showed growth, but I kept reminding myself that his journey was his, and mine was mine.Even now, as happy as I am, Hamza still haunts me in a way I can't explain. It's not love—it's something else. Maybe it's the ghost of a friendship that ended too soon or the weight of all the "what-ifs" I'll never know the answers to.But I'm determined not to let that shadow dim my light anymore. I have a life to live—a beautiful, exciting life I built with my own hands. And no matter how much the past whispers to me, I won't let it pull me back.
For now, I'll focus on being Sehar—the woman who never gave up on herself.

Ziya and Raza? Oh, those two are like the poster couple for "happily ever after." Five years together, and they're still all heart eyes and inside jokes. Honestly, watching them sometimes makes me feel like I'm the third wheel, even when it's just me and Ziya hanging out. But hey, no hard feelings—I still get my best-friend privileges. She tells me everything, and I mean everything. The other day, she spent an hour complaining about how Raza snores like a broken motorbike.

Meanwhile, I've completely lost touch with most of my college gang. Life happened, and let's be real—none of us were organized enough to maintain those "let's always stay close!" promises we made during graduation. Except for Sona, of course. She's my weekly gossip hotline. Every Friday, we catch up over long phone calls where she updates me about everyone's lives like she's reading a tabloid column.
"Did you hear?" she said last week, her voice practically buzzing with excitement. "Yashi's getting married next year!"I nearly dropped my coffee.
"Yashi? Like our Yashi? The one who swore she'd never let a man distract her from her career?"
"Yep. Apparently, she met someone who's just as obsessed with spreadsheets and schedules as she is. It's a match made in Excel heaven."
The mental image had me laughing so hard I almost snorted. Leave it to Yashi to find love during a boardroom meeting or a conference about "Maximizing Productivity." I could already picture her wedding—color-coded seating charts, a perfectly timed itinerary, and probably a PowerPoint presentation to kick off the reception.
"Do you think her vows will include bullet points?" I asked Sona, and she gasped dramatically.
"Stop, I'm stealing that joke for my speech!"
I couldn't wait to see Ziya's reaction when I told her. She'd probably say something like, "Finally! Maybe Yashi's husband can take over her 'life advice' lectures. Remember when she gave me a 30-minute presentation on why buying a new bag wasn't a 'smart financial decision'?!"Life feels lighter with moments like these. Sure, I don't see everyone as often as I used to, but when I do, it's like no time has passed. And knowing that my friends are all moving forward—whether it's building relationships, planning weddings, or snoozing through Raza's symphony of snores—it makes me happy.Now, if only I could get Ziya and Raza to stop "casually" hinting that I should start dating again. Spoiler alert: not happening anytime soon.

Hamza

Five years. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet sometimes, it all felt like yesterday—the late-night conversations, the shared jokes, the moments I couldn't stop thinking about her. Sehar. I don't know why she still lingered in my mind after all this time. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was the way she'd always been so full of life, even when things were tough. Either way, I had spent these years trying to move forward, to become someone better, someone worthy of the dreams I'd always had.

I kept my head down and focused on my goals. Starting my businesses was tough, but it gave me purpose. The gym was my first big win—something I built from scratch. Watching it grow, helping people transform their lives—it gave me a kind of peace I hadn't felt in years. I poured everything into it, into my work, into making something of myself.

People noticed the changes in me. I wasn't the same guy anymore, the one who thought life revolved around fleeting friendships and casual conversations. I avoided talking to girls, not because I was bitter or angry, but because I needed to figure out who I was without distractions. I wanted to grow, to be the kind of person who could face himself in the mirror without regrets.

Malaika was part of that. Apologizing to her had been long overdue. It wasn't easy to admit where I'd gone wrong or to tell her the truth about why things ended the way they did. But it felt right. She deserved that closure, and honestly, so did I.

And yet, no matter how much I accomplished or how far I'd come, Sehar's memory stayed with me. Not in a way that consumed me, but in quiet moments—when I'd catch a glimpse of her favorite color or hear someone laugh like she used to.

Sometimes, I'd hear about her through mutual friends or random updates on social media. She had done it—become an interior designer, started her own business, and made a name for herself. She looked happy in the pictures I saw, smiling like she'd finally found her place in the world. I was proud of her, even if I had no right to be.

But there was one thing I couldn't shake—the feeling that I owed her something. An apology, maybe, or an explanation for the way I'd handled things back then. I didn't know if she even thought about me anymore, but part of me wanted to find out.

For now, though, I kept moving forward. Life had taught me that you can't rewrite the past, but you can try to make peace with it. Maybe one day, I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Until then, I'd focus on being the best version of myself—the version who wouldn't let her down if that day ever came.