Chapter 2- The memory

The memory never announced itself.

It simply surfaced—quiet, persistent—like an old scar aching before a storm.

Three years ago.

Irin could still see it clearly.

She had been sitting in the university courtyard with Wania, legs tucked beneath her, bag resting against her side. It was one of those in-between hours when lectures felt distant and life felt light. Wania had been scrolling through her phone, laughing, narrating stories as her thumb moved.

“My cousins are impossible,” Wania had said, rolling her eyes. “Always travelling. Always grumpy. Always acting like the world owes them space.”

Then the scrolling stopped.

A group photo filled the screen.

And Irin’s world tilted—just slightly, but enough.

There he was.

Standing in front of a rugged jeep, desert stretching endlessly behind him. Sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with sand, eyes narrowed against the sun. There was a smile on his face—not wide, not careless—but real. One hand rested casually on his cousin’s shoulder, a quiet ownership in the gesture.

Shahzain.

Her heart didn’t simply skip.

It malfunctioned.

Violently. Rhythmically. As if it had forgotten its own rules.

It was foolish. Naive. The kind of impulse Irin spent her life suppressing. She was not the girl who acted on feelings. She was the girl who controlled them.

And yet—

That night, hidden behind a fake profile with no face and no name, she sent him a message.

Not for his money.

Not for his status.

For the soul she thought she saw in that photograph.

For three nights, she hovered over the send button. She typed *hi*—then deleted it. Typed again. Deleted again. Fear and excitement wrestling inside her chest.

Then, one evening, she sent it.

And this time—

He replied.

Instantly.

Her breath had caught in her throat.

The conversation unfolded slowly. Cautiously. He didn’t give much away. His words were brief and measured. When she asked about him, he answered faintly. Half-truths, maybe. Enough to keep the wall standing.

Then came the line that shattered her illusion.

*Who are you? I don’t talk to shadows.*

Her hands shook as she stared at the screen.

Still—she sent it.

A selfie. No filters. No poses. Just her sitting in the university library, books behind her, eyes wide and hopeful in a way she would later resent herself for.

The *Seen* appeared almost instantly.

And then—

Nothing.

No reply.

No explanation.

Just silence.

A cold, digital wall.

She understood later what he must have thought—that she was just another girl. Another background character. Maybe one of Wania’s many middle-class acquaintances trying to find a way into the Siddiqui circle.

He hadn’t been cruel.

He had been indifferent.

And that hurt far more.

Months passed.

At a Siddiqui family dinner, she attended as Wania’s guest, Irin saw him again—this time in flesh and bone. Her heart pounded as she hid behind a glass of Sherbet, terrified he would recognize her. Terrified, he would expose her foolishness.

He walked past her.

So close his shoulder nearly brushed hers.

He didn’t even blink.

He looked straight through her—as if she were made of glass.

Later, when Irin finally confessed everything, Wania had listened quietly. Then she leaned closer and whispered words Irin would never forget.

“He likes someone else, Irin. And our family… they don’t look at girls like you for marriage. You’re the help. The background character. I’m not discriminating you—but I’ve seen enough. Even my love faced so many difficulties. You’re a girl. It’ll be harder for you.”

Irin had nodded.

She locked that secret away in a lead box inside her chest.

A year later, she watched Wania’s extravagant wedding from the sidelines—diamonds flashing like stars, gold weighing down the bride’s neck. Wealth was so heavy it felt unreal. She saw Shahzain there too—commanding the room effortlessly.

And that was when it fully sank in.

He was a fantasy.

It is a dark, beautiful myth.

She was a teacher.

Their worlds were never meant to touch.

Or so she believed.

Until fate pulled her into his car—burning with fever, eyes heavy—and made him look at her twice.

The digital ghost was no longer hiding behind a screen.

And the past…

Had finally caught up with the present.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***