Forever His

Chapter 61: The Walls I Build

Shahmeer's POV:

Farjaad is still standing beside me, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for me to say something. He's always had this unnerving way of seeing through me, and today is no exception.

He doesn't push, but he doesn't leave either. "You can deny it all you want," he says after a moment. "But just by looking at you right now, I can tell. She means something to you. More than you're willing to admit."

I let out a low laugh, cold and humourless. "If I cared about her so much, she wouldn't be lying in that hospital bed right now, would she?" My voice is sharp, harsher than I intended, but I don't care. I can't care.

Farjaad's eyes soften, and I hate it. Pity. I don't need anyone's pity.

"She pushed you out of the way," he says quietly. "That wasn't your choice. That was hers."

"And why do you think she did that?" I snap, my voice rising before I can stop myself. I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. "She shouldn't have done it, Farjaad. She shouldn't have put herself in that position for me."

"She did it because she cares about you," he shouts.

I scoff, turning away from him. "She doesn't even know me," I say, my voice dropping to a mutter. "And if she did, she wouldn't care."

Farjaad sighs, stepping back. "You don't have to admit it to me," he says. "But you'll have to admit it to yourself eventually." He turns to leave, pausing just before he steps back inside. "Come in when you're ready."

I stay outside for a while, letting the silence settle around me. 

When I finally walk back into the hospital, the room feels colder than before. Mahnoor is still unconscious, her breathing steady but shallow. I sit down by her bed, pulling out my phone. The screen is dark, but I scroll through it anyway, pretending to be occupied.

But my eyes keep drifting back to her.

Her hair is falling across her face, and I reach out before I can stop myself, brushing it back gently. My hand lingers for a moment before I pull it away, curling it into a fist in my lap.

I glance down at her hand, small and still against the white sheets. I don't know why, but I take it, holding it lightly in mine. It feels cold, too cold, and the weight in my chest grows heavier.

The door creaks open, and a nurse steps in. "Mr. Jafri, the doctor wants you to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy."

I nod, standing up and letting go of her hand. As I walk out, I glance back at her one last time, her face pale against the pillow.

The pharmacy is bustling, the sound of muffled voices grating on my nerves. I pass the prescription slip to the pharmacist, but before I can collect the medicine, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Farjaad's name flashes on the screen.

"She's awake," his message reads.

I don't think. I don't even wait for the pharmacist to call my name. I turn on my heel and walk back to her room, my pace quickening with every step.

When I reach the door, I pause. Through the small glass window, I can see her lying there, her eyes open and unfocused. A pang of guilt twists in my chest when I see the faint look of disappointment on her face.

I step inside quietly, the door clicking shut behind me. She doesn't notice me at first, her gaze fixed somewhere far away. I take a few steps closer, my throat tightening as I take in the sight of her awake but so lifeless.

Farjaad and Ayesha are still in the room, but they both glance at me when I enter. Without a word, they exchange a look and head for the door. Farjaad gives me a slight nod before closing it behind him, leaving the two of us alone.