YOU BELONG TO ME

CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR : YOU BELONG TO ME.

The sun cast long shadows over the expansive Makhtoum estate, its outdoor sports area bustling with the chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees. The badminton court gleamed under the golden light, its boundaries marked with precision. Ashmaan and Aasim stood across from each other, rackets in hand, sweat trickling down their temples as they played.

Aasim, wearing a light athletic shirt and track pants, looked confident, his movements fluid and effortless. On the other side, Ashmaan was visibly frustrated, his hoodie tossed aside as he missed yet another shot.

Yes , they have now reconciled after four years of ignoring each other's existence.

"Point. Again," Aasim announced, smirking as he twirled his racket.

Ashmaan groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "How the hell are you this good?"

"Skill, cousin," Aasim teased, serving again. The shuttlecock sailed high and fast, and though Ashmaan lunged for it, he barely grazed it before it hit the ground.

"You've lost your touch, Ash," Aasim said, grinning as he jogged to retrieve the shuttlecock. "Or is it the guilt weighing you down?"

Ashmaan shot him a glare, his shoulders heaving. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, too bad, because I do," Aasim replied, tossing the shuttlecock into the air and catching it effortlessly. "You've been like this for two weeks. Two weeks, Ashmaan. And if you think avoiding the problem will make it go away, you're dead wrong."

The match continued for a few more rounds, with Aasim easily dominating. Finally, after yet another missed shot from Ashmaan, he slammed his racket down and stormed to the bench.

"You done throwing a tantrum?" Aasim asked, joining him.

Ashmaan shot him a look but said nothing, his jaw clenched.

"Listen, I get it," Aasim began, his tone softer. "You're angry. You're hurt. But you're not the only one in this estate who's been in a mess like this."

Ashmaan glanced at him sideways.

"Jasmine and I," Aasim continued, leaning back against the bench. "We were on the brink of divorce. It was bad, Ash. Real bad. We weren't even talking anymore. Just existing in the same house, pretending like the other didn't exist."

" but roohi talked to me and...," Aasim admitted. "I confronted her. Apologized for the mistakes I made. Even cried, man. Now?" He shrugged. "Alhamdulillah, we're better than ever."

"Good for you," Ashmaan muttered, staring at the ground.

"You're missing the point," Aasim said sharply. "You're giving her space, right? You think you're doing the noble thing, respecting her wishes. But let me tell you something-when a woman says she needs space, she means the exact opposite."

Ashmaan frowned, his brows knitting together.

"If you give her space, that space will stretch," Aasim explained, leaning closer. "It'll grow, and grow, until you're both so far apart you can't find your way back to each other. You need to go to her, Ash. Talk to her. Fix this before it's too late."

"She told me not to," Ashmaan said quietly. "She said she needed time."

"And you believed her?" Aasim scoffed. "Ashmaan, be a man. She's hurting, just like you are. You think she really wants to be alone right now? You think she's happier without you?"

Ashmaan didn't respond, his throat tightening.

"Look, I know it's scary," Aasim said. "But you have to stop wallowing in guilt and do something. Because if you don't, you'll lose her. And trust me, that's a pain you don't want to live with."