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
The phone buzzed against the wooden table, its faint rattle barely heard in the quiet room.
Neither of them paid attention—it could have been a delivery update, a random discount message, or yet another company promotion. Nothing that mattered.
Yusra’s head rested on Zumar’s thigh, her hair spilling across the couch cushions as the two of them sank into the rare peace of being together again.
The room carried the faint scent of tea and old books, softened by the light that crept through the curtains. Zumar absentmindedly traced invisible circles along Yusra’s arm while they shared, piece by piece, all the words they had hoarded during their separation.
“Did you ever contact your mother?” Yusra asked after a long pause, her voice hesitant.
“No,” Zumar answered simply. Her throat tightened as the word slipped out. “I… lost her number.” It was too easy, lying to Yusra—too easy in a way that made her chest ache afterward.
Yusra hummed quietly, as though weighing the answer. “You should. I’ll send you her number.”
Zumar’s fingers stilled. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“With everything that has happened,” Yusra murmured, her gaze steady, “even if she doesn’t want to… she still deserves to know.”
Zumar bit down on her lip. She told herself to keep still, to keep quiet, to let the moment pass without unraveling herself.
But the weight inside her pressed too hard.
“I’ve been feeding you a lie,” she whispered suddenly, the words slipping out before she could catch them.
Yusra’s brows furrowed, her head lifting slightly. “What lie?”
Her chest heaved once before the confession broke free. “My parents aren’t… divorced.”
The shock on Yusra’s face was instant, sharp enough that she jerked upright from Zumar’s lap, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”
Zumar swallowed, her gaze lowering as though the floor atleast might hold her together. “It’s true. Mom wanted the divorce… but Dad never signed, never agreed. He begged her not to go through with it. So instead, she demanded distance. She told him to live apart from her—with the other woman. Farzana.”
The name dropped between them like a stone in still water.
Yusra’s lips parted, but no words came. The revelation hung there, stretching the silence taut. Finally, her voice broke, shaky.
“They’re… not divorced?”
Zumar nodded slowly, her throat tightening until every word scraped out raw. “No. They never were. Legally, at least. On paper, they’re still bound to each other.”
