I'm sure you've heard a lot about unrequited love, but what if I say there exists an unwilling love, hidden somewhere between the echoes of silence and the whispers of the heart's secrets? A love that fights to stay buried, yet yearns to be discover...
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๑ 🥀 ๑
Adeel sat by his father's bedside, perched on a small stool, his body weighed down by exhaustion. The jacket he wore did little to chase away the cold that seemed to seep into his bones. The warmth that once lit up his face had faded, chipped away piece by piece.
His fingers curled tightly around his father's hand-warm against cold, life clinging to stillness.
The machines hummed in the background, their slow, rhythmic beeps filling the silence, each sound stretching time unbearably thin.
His ears burned. The sound grated against him, relentless. The sight before him felt heavier than he could bear.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to stay here forever.
A voice broke through the quiet. "What are you thinking?" Amaan asked from behind him.
Adeel responded instantly, as if the words had been sitting at the edge of his throat, waiting for someone to pull them free. "He doesn't wake up." His grip tightened. "What if-what if he never does?"
Amaan sighed. "Don't say that." His voice was firm, but not unkind. "Talk to him. Even if he doesn't respond, he might be listening. Tell him how much he means to you. Give him a reason to come back."
Adeel let out a breath that felt like it had been lodged in his chest for too long. "I never did that when he was well," he admitted, voice cracking. "I never told him. He was always the shield, always there. And I-" his throat closed up, words failing him.
He swallowed hard. "I never imagined a day where I'd have to live without him."
"Adeel...You still have time."
Adeel let out a shuddering breath, his fingers tightening around his father's hand. "What if he doesn't hear me?" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "What if it's too late?"
Amaan stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Adeel's shoulder. "Then speak louder."
Adeel blinked, his throat thick with unshed tears. The beeping of the machines, the sterile scent of the room, the dim lighting-it all felt like a slow suffocation.
His head hung low, his voice barely above a whisper. "He cared about us so much... even when we never truly valued him. We never looked past what we wanted to see."
The weight of his own words settled heavily in his chest. Regret, thick and suffocating, curled around his ribs.
Amaan watched him, the crease between his brows deepening.
"Do you know why he wanted the deal between your father's company and ours to be sealed through your marriage with Zumar?" Adeel asked, a ghost of a smile touching his lips-one that held no joy.
Amaan's frown deepened, confusion flickering in his gaze.
"You'd never guess," Adeel continued, exhaling softly. "He knew you were friends. He knew everything about it. And still... he trusted you with Zumar more than he trusted her anywhere near him."
