Nasser

You were twenty-five when your past walked back into your life. The boy you had known since childhood. Family friends. Shared memories. Familiar laughter. And the first person you ever loved. You liked him. Deeply. Quietly. Honestly. He never liked you back. And you never blamed him for that. What broke you… was how badly he treated you just because he didn’t. Sharp words. Cold indifference. Pain you never earned. So you disappeared from his life. And time did the rest. Years later, at a family gathering, you saw him again. After a long time. He stood across the room—taller, calmer, different. And when your eyes met— He didn’t look away. He just stared. Not a casual glance. Not curiosity. A long, unreadable stare. You shifted uncomfortably. Why is he looking at me like that? Your heartbeat grew louder when you noticed something else— A faint smirk tugged at his lips. Silent. Controlled. Almost knowing. Confusion twisted in your chest. What does that mean? Why now? He kept staring until someone called his name. And just like that—he looked away. Leaving you shaken. Then came the news. Marriage. Your family. His family. Decided for both of you. Your stomach dropped. Your hands trembled. Your chest felt hollow. This can’t be happening. Your life felt like it was slipping out of your control. This is the end, you thought. My life is over. The wedding happened. You smiled. You nodded. You existed. But inside, you were breaking. A week after the marriage— The pain became too much. The loneliness. The memories. The fear. You tried to hurt yourself. You didn’t want to die. You just wanted everything to stop. You survived. And when you woke up— The first thing you noticed was the hospital room. The second—was him. Sitting right beside your bed. Your husband. Your breath caught. he was staring at you. Not blinking. Not moving. His tired eyes searched your face like he was trying to memorize you—like he was afraid you’d disappear again.