Next day, Zavian was at work, fully focused in meetings, emails & files. No trace of the storm inside him from the day before. His face was calm, eyes focused, fingers over the keyboard. He looked like a man who had no worries but only he knew the silence he carried within.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message.
"Bhai, are you free?"
Zavian paused, a soft smile curved on his lips. He read her message again, slower this time, as if her voice lived inside the words.
He whispered under his breath, "Always free for you, Mahi"
But he didn't type that. Instead, with the calmness of a man hiding emotions, he replied:
"Yep All okay?"
Mahek typed:
"Actually bhai... I wanted you to talk to that boy. I can't face him anymore.
I know I won't get married to him, I know things won't happen that way... so please"
Zavian stared at screen then typed:
"Okay I'll talk to him today"
Then he added something else something soft:
"You don't have to carry everything alone. I'm here"
He stared at the screen after sending it & though she had no idea what he felt, every time she asked him for help... a small part of him both healed & hurt
After some time, her message popped up again on his screen. It was gentle, but filled with quiet kindness:
"Bhai... I'll talk to him. Don't worry. If I won't be able to handle it, I'll tell you"
Zavian read her words slowly, almost reading them aloud in his mind.
He typed just one word softly, simply:
"Okay"
And that was it.
The chat ended.
Zavian leaned back in his chair, eyes lingering on the screen even after the conversation was over.
He didn't reply more. He didn't ask anything else because sometimes love meant staying quiet letting them try, letting them be strong.
Even when it ached in silence.
In the evening, just when Zavian was gathering his files & shutting down his system, his phone buzzed.
It was her, Mahi
"Bhai, I talked to him & he left"
Zavian paused for a second, reading it again, feeling a quiet wave of relief.
He typed slowly, with softness & concern:
"That's good, are you okay now?"
A few seconds passed. Then came her reply short, unsure, tired
"Maybe"
And just like that the chat ended.
No emojis. No long words. Just silence.
But behind that "maybe" was an entire thing Mahi didn't say.
And behind Zavian's calmness... was an ache he didn't show.
Lost in thought, Zavian stood still for a moment, phone in hand, staring at the last message from Mahi.
"Maybe"
It echoed in his head more than it should've.
And before he could think twice, his fingers were already dialing.
A few rings later, his secretary picked up.
Zavian's voice was low but certain no hesitation, just clarity mixed with something even he couldn't name.
"Apply for a business visa to India," he said calmly.
"I don't want delays & I don't expect any rejection. Put it under company expansion, schedule a few dummy meetings if needed. Just get it done"
The secretary agreed surprised but used to Zavian's sudden, sharp decisions.
Zavian ended the call.
He wasn't sure what pulled him this way it wasn't impulse, nor logic.
It was just... her
Days rolled on quietly...
Mahek was buried in her routine
Books in the morning, paints in the noon, chai breaks with her notebook in the evening & household duties at night.
She didn't get the chance to text Zavian & maybe... deep down, she was waiting for his name to pop up first.
Zavian, too, hadn't messaged her.
They both floated through the group chats casually present, but not really there.
Silent observers.
Zavian made a decision the one he had been holding off for weeks.
Maybe it was time to tell Eman... to end everything properly.
He took the keys, started the car & drove through the city, the air unusually heavy.
The place she had mentioned some family function. A mehndi, maybe?
When he reached there, what he saw made something inside him crack silently.
There she was.
Eman
Bright, glowing, hands covered in mehndi, bangles clinking.
And beside her, a man. Holding her hands. Smiling.
They were laughing, close... familiar. The kind of closeness that used to be his once.
Zavian didn't step forward.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't even blink.
He just stood still, in the middle of a crowd that suddenly blurred around him.
She moved on. Not just emotionally... completely
And he?
He turned around. Slowly.
Walked back to his car.
And sat in silence.
He drove back home.
The city lights passed like faded memories, blurred through the windshield. He didn't turn the music on. No calls. No thoughts. Just silence heavy, pressing, almost choking.
He reached home, parked & leaned his head back against the seat for a moment, staring at the roof of the car...
His phone buzzed.
A message from Eman
"I was waiting for you, Zavian. Come on, learn to be a man of your words. You said you'd be there"
He read it.
No reaction. No anger. No pain. Just... nothing.
His eyes wide open, dry & numb.
Like someone who had cried out all of his soul long before the tears could ever fall.
He didn't reply.
He didn't even lock his phone.
He just sat there, phone still lit in his hand, gaze lost somewhere between heartbreak & peace.
Because sometimes the loudest answer... is silence.
He took a deep breath.
Held it in his chest like it was the last bit of strength he had.
His fingers trembled for a second not because of fear, but because of the weight of truth he was finally about to unload.
And then... he typed.
"Eman, I know I never gave you the love you wanted or deserved maybe your anger, your reactions it was all because of something deeper inside you maybe as you said, it's your anger issue maybe I just wasn't enough to fix it"
"But Eman... I can't do this anymore"
"You may call me a cheater, a liar, a characterless man & it's okay, You can. I won't defend myself"
"But I'm tired"
"I've been tired for so long. For almost a year, I've been drowning in silence, in fights, in trying to feel something that just isn't there anymore"
"And the truth is... I love someone else"
"I didn't plan it. I didn't chase it but it happened. She doesn't even know maybe she never will. But she brought peace to the places inside me you never tried to reach, I need time for myself, to be better, to breathe again. Sorry, Eman but I can't marry you now"
He stared at the message.
Read it once.
Twice.
And then hit send.
For the first time in a long time, his heart felt lighter not because it didn't hurt anymore, but because he finally spoke the truth...
After a few minutes, just as Zavian lay down, head onto his pillow, eyes trying to find silence in the dark, his phone buzzed.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
It was Eman.
Message after message.
Abuse after abuse.
Every word sharper than the last.
Dragging his character.
Disrespect.
Blame.
Curses.
Mocking the love he once gave her.
Tearing into him like he never meant anything like he was never enough & never would be.
His screen lit up again.
He read the words... but didn't react.
Not this time.
No anger. No reply. No pain even.
Just silence.
He placed the phone down on the side table.
Took a long breath.
Closed his eyes.
Maybe sleep wouldn't come easily tonight.
But at least... he was done begging for peace.
After the storm of messages from Eman, silence finally settled into the room.
Zavian lay still, eyes open in the dim light of the lamp beside him.
He didn’t feel angry.
Just… empty.
He turned on his phone again, more out of habit than interest.
No new messages.
But then,
One notification popped up, Mahi...
"Bhai, are you okay?"
Zavian stared at the message.
She didn’t know anything.
Nothing about what just happened.
But somehow, she always texted at the right time.
As if her soul could sense his pain.
He softly smiled, the kind that doesn’t reach the eyes.
Typed back:
"I'm okay, Mahi. Just a little tired"
After a few seconds, she replied:
"Take care of yourself, bhai"
He read it again & again.
Every word… gentle.
Every word… healing.
He typed slowly:
"Thank you, Mahi. It means more than you know"
This time, he meant it.
Not just as a brother.
Not just as a friend.
But as someone who was slowly realizing...
She was his peace.
Days passed without a word from Eman...
Whatever was left between them… had already faded.
Zavian didn’t chase. He didn’t explain. He didn’t even feel the need to.
He was waiting.
Not just for time to pass.
But for something else, something that made his heartbeat shift every time he thought of it.
His visa.
And then, after nearly two weeks of silence & work & quiet nights,
It arrived.
A plain envelope, carrying more weight than anyone could imagine.
It was Friday, a day of peace, reflection & pause.
His factory remained closed every Friday,
in respect of Jummah prayer.
He had just returned from the mosque.
Fresh wudhu on his skin, the scent of mosque still wrapped around him.
Dressed in a simple white kurta shalwar, he looked calm.
He sat on the sofa in his room, laptop open in front of him,
sunlight pouring in through the curtains,
his fingers scrolling through business reports…
but his mind?
India. Mahi. Her voice. Her stories. Her silence.
Everything was still.
Except his heart.
Just as the quiet buzz of the room was settling into his bones,
a knock echoed on his door.
He looked up.
One of the house staff stood there, holding a plain white envelope.
No expression. Just routine but for Zavian, this wasn’t routine.
His heartbeat skipped.
He took the envelope with slightly shivering fingers.
Sat back on the sofa.
Tore the seal open like he already knew what was inside
but was too afraid to hope.
Documents.
And his passport.
He flipped through its pages & then he saw it.
The stamp.
"Visa Approved"
For a second, he couldn’t breathe.
He blinked once. Twice.
Then slowly closed his eyes,
as if he needed to pause the world around him.
A soft whisper escaped his lips,
“Alhamdulillah”
It wasn’t just relief.
It was surrender.
It was hope.
It was a prayer answered silently long before it had even been asked.
He opened his eyes, looked again at that stamp,
still not fully believing this was real.
And then without wasting another moment,
he stood up, hurried, almost childlike in his movements.
Walked over to the corner of the room.
Unfolded his prayer mat & gently placed it on the floor.
No words now.
Just kneeling down,
offering his shukrana.
Gratitude in its purest form. No one watching. Just him & his Rabb.
A journey was about to begin but first, it had to begin in sujood.
From that day,
Zavian was different.
There was a quiet kind of happiness in him, the type that comes when your heart finally finds a little hope to hold onto.
He smiled more.
He responded to texts a little faster.
And even though he didn't say much, something inside him had lit up.
That morning, as he sat in his office crisp shirt, sleeves folded, he took a moment between meetings & opened his phone.
He texted Mahi, just to ask how she was doing.
Nothing too long. Nothing too obvious. Just care, wrapped gently in words.
“How are you feeling now, Mahi? All okay?”
He kept the phone aside & got back to work, but somewhere inside, he was waiting.
A while later, his phone buzzed.
Mahi’s name appeared.
He opened the message casually but her words made him sit straighter.
“Bhai, I’m not okay”
“Woh jo larka tha… he’s missing” (That boy I told you about… he's missing.)
“He’s not online for a week now & I’m really worried about him”
Zavian stared at the screen for a few seconds.
The happiness that had been quietly blooming inside him paused. Something broke in Zavian.
His chest felt heavy, but he typed calmly:
“Mahi, he’ll be okay… don’t worry”
Mahi replied in a rush:
“Bhai, no He said he’d do something to himself… I just told him my family won’t agree”
“He said he’ll revert to Islam, that he’ll convince his family…”
“Bhai, he said he’ll come, but I hurt him”
Zavian stared at her messages, his hands cold, his heart heavier.
Mahi texted again:
“Bhai… I just want him back. I hope he’s okay”
Zavian closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath & tried to stay okay.
He knew she was scared… worried… & he had to be her calm.
So he comforted her gently, with patience telling her everything would be fine, maybe he just needed time.
But deep down… that moment marked the beginning of the most painful phase for Zavian.
Mahi started opening up more about that boy
She even sent his picture to Zavian…
Told him about his gym routine, the way he flirts, how he talks...
And Zavian?
He listened.
He read every word.
He smiled at her messages.
But inside…it was breaking him apart.
She texted with joy almost like a child who just got her favorite toy back:
“Bhai, bhaiii He texted… he’s okay, I’ll talk to you later”
Zavian stared at the screen for a moment.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he didn’t type anything back.
A soft smile appeared on his face, It was the kind of smile that hides pain.
He whispered to himself,
"That’s good… you’re happy, that’s all that matters"
And then he just locked his phone…
and sat there in silence.
At that moment, something settled in Zavian’s heart
He was sure now.
Mahi had feelings for that boy.
She was smiling, glowing… because of him.
He was the reason behind her joy, her peace, her spark.
And just like that Zavian gave up.
Not with anger.
Not with regret.
But with the kind of love that steps back… silently.
He had given up once before
when he feared that getting close to her might hurt her.
And now, once again, he let go.
This time… for her happiness.
Because sometimes, love isn’t about having someone.
It’s about choosing their smile over your pain.
Even if it means watching them walk into someone else’s arms.
He reached home, the weight in his throat refusing to ease.
Without a word, he grabbed the white envelope from his side table drawer & stepped onto the balcony of his room.
Staring at the envelope, he slowly pulled out the documents & his passport.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, a quiet moment before the storm.
Then, with shivering hands, he tore the documents apart, ripping every single page of the passport into pieces.
Zavian didn't care anymore.
He wasn’t thinking about risks, consequences or logic.
All he could feel was that piece in his throat, the one that had been sitting there all day, refusing to let him breathe properly.
He stood in his balcony, the cool air hitting his face, but his skin still felt like it was burning.
He looked down at the torn documents scattered like broken pieces of a dream… a dream he once carried silently in his heart.
And now, he was done.
He took out his phone, fingers shivering, voice low but heavy with anger & pain.
“Cancel my visa for India”
His secretary’s voice came through the line, hesitant:
“Sir, that’s not possible after approval. It’s already in the system”
Zavian clenched his jaw & shouted, voice sharp, cracking:
“I said shut up & do what I said! Cancel it Reveal that the meetings were fake, dummy business”
There was silence. Then a response:
“Sir… it’s risky maybe you won’t get a visa again. It could open a case against you”
Zavian’s voice broke this time not from anger, but something deeper.
“I don’t care. I’m not going & I don’t ever want to go”
The call ended.
He stood there, surrounded by scraps of paper & shattered hopes.
And for the first time in a long time, he allowed his eyes to fill… but no tears fell.
Just silence.
Just emptiness...
Zavian walked back into his room in silence.
He turned the key, locking the door behind him then stepped to the balcony door & locked that too, shutting the world out completely.
He came to the center of the room, stood still & slowly placed both hands on the back of his head. His elbows pointed out, chest rising with a deep breath, like he was trying to hold together what was already breaking inside.
He screamed.
A raw cry, loud, soaked in anger & unbearable pain.
The room echoed with his screams as he kept screaming, louder & louder, as if his voice could rip apart the silence that had swallowed him whole.
In a fit of helpless rage, he grabbed his laptop & threw it across the room. It crashed against the wall, pieces scattering but even that didn’t ease the storm inside him.
Tears finally broke through. His knees gave in & he collapsed to the floor beside his bed. Curling up, he buried his face between his legs, his arms wrapped around his head like a shield.
There, on the cold floor, Zavian was no longer a man, just a broken soul.
He kept grabbing his hair with one hand, crying out in pain, between hiccups, between clenched teeth, the kind of cry that comes not from the throat, but from a place far deeper, far darker.
He cried for hours,
loud, aching sobs that shook his chest & scraped his throat raw.
He buried his screams between his legs, covering them against his knees,
like he was trying to keep the world away from hearing the sound of his breaking.
Time passed.
The pain didn’t end, but his voice gave up.
And then… silence.
Complete silence.
His eyes were red, swollen from the flood of tears.
His face pale, jaw tight.
His body still exhausted, defeated.
He sat there on the floor, unmoving.
No more screams. No more tears.
Just silence...
and the heaviness of a heart that had shattered quietly in the dark.
He didn’t even realize when he fell asleep there, still sitting on the floor, in the same position.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for the next part...🤍📚
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