The Moment She Saw Him

Part 36

Sehar

I stood frozen at the doorway, my eyes locked with his. Hamza. I hadn't seen him in five years, but the moment I did, every memory I had buried came rushing back. His face looked the same, yet different—more mature, sharper, but those eyes... they still had the same depth, the same pull. I forced a smile when I entered, trying to keep my emotions hidden, but the second our eyes met, that smile vanished. My heart felt heavy, as if all the feelings I had pushed away were suddenly too much to bear. Why was he here? Of all the places, why today?
"Sehar, come here!" Ziya's mom called, her voice cheerful and welcoming. I nodded and stepped forward, but I could still feel his gaze on me. I tried not to look at him again, but it was so hard. 

My heart was racing so fast, it felt like it would burst out of my chest. I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my heartbeat. My head ached, and every memory I had tried to forget came crashing back, one after another.
The thought hit me like a storm—I had loved him. I still did. And the worst part? It was so hard not to love him, yet loving him had always felt so easy. That thought terrified me.I gently guided Ziya to sit beside her father and quietly moved to stand near Ziya's mom. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding him entirely. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. It hurt too much. Just the thought of meeting his eyes again made my chest tighten, as though the pain was too heavy to carry.
The ceremony continued, but I felt like I wasn't really there. My vision blurred, and the sound of voices around me became distant. My hands trembled as I clutched the edge of my dupatta, hoping no one would notice. But the emotions I had held in for so long were threatening to spill over. I couldn't hold it together anymore.
Tears silently started streaming down my face, and I quickly turned away, slipping out of the room unnoticed. I found an empty corner outside and let myself break down. The sobs came hard and fast, shaking my whole body. It was like every piece of my heart that I had glued back together was shattering all over again.
No one came looking for me.
No one noticed I was gone.
I felt utterly alone.
The lavender scent from the house lingered even here, mocking me with memories of him, of us, of what could've been.I cried until my chest felt tight, my breathing became shallow, and my head spun. I couldn't stop, even when my body begged me to. My legs felt weak, and before I knew it, the world around me blurred and faded into darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the ground, my face damp with tears. The faint sound of voices reached my ears, but they felt so far away. I tried to get up, but my body felt too heavy to move. I closed my eyes again, too drained to fight it. Maybe, just for a little while, I didn't have to feel this pain anymore.

Hamza

I stood awkwardly near the corner of the room, trying to keep my focus on the ceremony, but my mind was still stuck on Sehar. Every time I saw her avoiding my gaze, looking down, or stepping away, it hurt in ways I couldn't even explain. She was so close yet felt so far away.

I noticed Ziya looking around, a hint of worry on her face. Then she stepped out of the room. I didn't think much of it at first, but when a few minutes passed and she didn't return, I started to feel uneasy. Suddenly, I heard her voice from outside, sharp and panicked.
"Raza! Raza, come here!" Ziya's cry startled me. Raza immediately ran out of the room, and I followed without thinking.
When I reached the doorway, I froze. There she was—Sehar. She was lying on the ground, motionless, her face pale and streaked with tears. My heart sank like a stone in my chest. Ziya was kneeling beside her, shaking her gently and calling her name. Raza crouched down too, his voice calm but urgent as he asked what had happened.
I couldn't move at first. Seeing her like this broke something inside me. The woman who had once been so full of life, who could brighten a room with just her smile, now looked so fragile, so defeated. And I hated myself for it—for being a part of the pain that had brought her to this point.
"She's not waking up," Ziya said, her voice trembling. "We need to get her to a hospital."
That snapped me out of my shock. "I'll take her," I said quickly, moving forward without even thinking. Raza hesitated for a moment but then nodded. Together, we carefully lifted Sehar, and I carried her to the car.
The drive to the hospital felt endless. I kept glancing at her in the backseat, her head resting against Ziya's shoulder. She still hadn't opened her eyes, and every second that passed felt like an eternity. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, my mind racing with guilt and worry.
When we arrived at the hospital, I didn't wait for anyone else. I picked her up and rushed inside, calling for help. The nurses quickly took her from me, placing her on a stretcher and wheeling her into a room.
As the doors closed behind them, I stood there, unable to move. My chest felt heavy, and I struggled to breathe. Raza placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to reassure me, but it didn't help. All I could think about was Sehar, lying unconscious, her tears still fresh on her face.
How had it come to this? How had I let it get this bad? If I had just stayed away, would she have been happier? Or was it my absence that had hurt her so much? The questions swirled in my mind, and for the first time in years, I felt utterly helpless.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes, and whispered a prayer I wasn't even sure I believed in anymore. Please let her be okay. Just let her be okay.