Whispers of Love

Chapter 8

Author's POV:

A few days passed, and Roshni withdrew further into herself, shutting out the world around her. She stopped speaking to anyone, and her appetite dwindled to nothing. She seemed lost, caught up in a world of her own. At the same time, her absence at her beloved café-bookstore didn't go unnoticed. Ezzeh, her close friend, grew increasingly concerned as the days stretched on without a single word from Roshni. Calls to her phone went unanswered, and her door remained shut. Finally, after wrestling with her worries for days, Ezzeh decided she had to see Roshni. The unease bubbling in her heart gave her no choice.

When Ezzeh reached Roshni's house, she hesitated briefly before ringing the doorbell. The door opened, and there he was—Asad, standing in the doorway with his piercing green eyes. Those eyes locked onto hers, seeming to search her soul, leaving her momentarily frozen. His expression was a mix of confusion and surprise. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence stretching awkwardly between them until Ezzeh finally said softly, "May I come in?"

Asad blinked and stammered, "Ye...yes, yes, come in," before stepping aside to let her in. He closed the door behind her, turning to ask, "Why did you come here?"

Ezzeh, now seated on the living room sofa, responded, "I wanted to meet Roshni." Her voice carried the weight of disappointment and concern. "She hasn't come to her shop in days, and hasn't returned my calls either." She sighed, trying to mask her frustration.

Asad frowned deeply, his face reflecting his own worry. "Even I haven't spoken to her in days," he admitted, his tone disheartened. After a brief pause, he added, "She's in her room. You can go meet her." He pointed her toward the room before sinking into the sofa across from her, visibly troubled.

Ezzeh made her way to Roshni's room. The moment she entered, she was struck by the heavy darkness that filled the space. The curtains were drawn tight, the windows shut, and the air felt suffocating. Roshni was there, on her Janimaz (prayer mat), her body bent in Sujood (prostration). Something felt off. Ezzeh moved cautiously toward her and gently called out, "Roshni." There was no response. She placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, attempting to nudge her, but Roshni remained motionless.

Alarmed, Ezzeh's heart began to race. She hurried to pull open the curtains, letting light flood the room, and unlatched the windows to allow fresh air inside. Then she turned back to Roshni, crouching beside her. "Roshni," she whispered again, her voice trembling as she shook her gently. Still no response. It was then she noticed the shallow rise and fall of Roshni's chest—she was unconscious. Panic gripped her. She screamed, "Roshnii!" her voice cracking with fear.

She gently lifted Roshni's head onto her lap, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Asad, hearing the scream, came running. He burst into the room, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of Roshni in Ezzeh's lap. He stood frozen, his body rigid with fear. Ezzeh looked up at him, her own terror mirrored in his gaze.

"Asad, help me!" she cried out, snapping him out of his daze. Together, they carried Roshni to a nearby hospital.

At the hospital, the doctor's grave expression did little to ease their mounting fears. After examining Roshni, he turned to Asad and Ezzeh. "Was she eating properly?" he asked, his voice edged with concern.

Both of them exchanged a guilty look before Ezzeh replied softly, "We don't know." Her voice was heavy with regret.

The doctor sighed, his tone turning serious. "She hasn't been taking care of herself at all. Her body is severely malnourished and exhausted. It's critical that she gets proper care from now on."

Asad and Ezzeh were stunned. They had both suspected something was wrong, but hearing the confirmation was like a punch to the gut. They knew exactly why Roshni had neglected herself, though neither dared to say it out loud.