Mahveen sat by the window, the city lights of Dhaka flickering softly in the night. The silence between her and Asfand had become louder than any argument. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful — it was heavy, filled with unspoken words and memories neither dared to touch.
Their marriage was built on duty and family pressure, a fragile arrangement with no promises of love. But when Mahveen fell ill that rainy night, Asfand stayed by her side — quietly, without saying much. It was the first crack in his cold armor.
Yet, when their bodies finally met, it was mechanical, void of passion. Mahveen’s whispered frustrations echoed in the dark room, but Asfand remained distant, a stranger wearing the mask of a husband.
Days later, Mahveen found his diary — pages soaked in pain, betrayal, and regret from a love lost years ago. She didn’t confront him. Instead, she loved him silently, hoping her quiet strength could heal his broken heart.
But love has its way of breaking down walls — sometimes with gentle whispers
sometimes with desperate cries.
A new story is coming soon....Stay tuned