Chapter Three — Unsaid Things

Irin

He snapped his fingers in front of my face.

The sound jolted me back.

“Hey,” he said, his voice firm now. “Are you listening?”

I blinked, my vision refocusing. My head felt heavy, like it was wrapped in cotton.

“Should we go to the hospital?” he asked. His brows were drawn together, concern cutting through his otherwise controlled expression. “You don’t look fine to me.”

Panic rushed through me.

“No—no need,” I said quickly. My voice came out softer than I intended. Almost fragile. “Thank you… so much for your help. I’ll call my friends. They’re nearby.”

He studied my face for a second, as if weighing my words.

“Mm… okay,” he replied finally, leaning back slightly.

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. I didn’t call Wania. I couldn’t. Not here. Not now. I dialled Zuha instead, whispering a rushed explanation.

“She’s coming,” I said after ending the call, forcing a small smile toward him.

He nodded.

Silence settled between us.

Not comfortable. Not empty, either. Just… awkward. Thick.

I became painfully aware of the quiet hum of the engine, the faint scent of his cologne, the way the steering wheel rested easily under his hand. I stared straight ahead, counting my breaths.

Then—

Footsteps. Voices.

My heart sank.

“Oh no,” I thought. “Wania is here too.”

I looked up instinctively.

Shahzain straightened at the same moment.

Their eyes met.

It wasn’t dramatic—but it wasn’t casual either. Just a brief pause, a flicker of recognition passing between them.

Zuha rushed to my side immediately. “Irin! What happened?”

Before I could answer, Wania turned to him. “What happened here?”

He explained it calmly. Precisely. The road. The fainting. The fever.

Both of them insisted—doctor. Immediately.

“I’m fine,” I protested weakly. “Really. I just need rest.”

They didn’t listen.

“Call a taxi,” I said instead, trying to end it there.

Wania crossed her arms. “I’m coming with you.”

“No—”

“No negotiations,” she cut in.

I was losing control of the situation.

Then he spoke.

“I’ll drop you,” Shahzain said simply. “It’s on the way.”

My heart slammed into my ribs.

No. No. No.

“Aah—there’s no need,” I tried again. No one listened.

Zuha waved us off, and somehow, impossibly, I found myself sitting in his car again—this time with Wania beside me.

I stared at my hands.

Then I looked up.

His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.

I startled and looked away instantly.

Did he recognize me?

My chest tightened. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and pretended exhaustion.

The headache returned with force.

Thankfully, the drive was short.

When we reached home, I got down quickly.

“Thank you,” I said, finally looking at him—but only for a second. I didn’t wait for a reply.

I walked inside without turning back.

My mother fussed immediately, medicines appeared, questions followed—but I answered none of them properly. The moment the tablet dissolved in my throat, sleep claimed me.

Whatever that was—

It could wait until I was sane enough to think.

Shahzain

He watched the gate close behind her.

Only then did he release the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“She’s stubborn,” Wania said beside him, breaking the silence.

“She’s… strong,” he replied without thinking.

Wania glanced at him briefly but said nothing.

When he finally drove away, the road felt different. Quieter. He turned the music off, his mind replaying the last hour whether he wanted it to or not.

The way she’d looked at him.

Not flirtatious. Not bold.

Startled.

Like someone afraid of being seen.

Have I seen her before? he wondered again.

The thought irritated him.

He wasn’t the kind of man who forgot faces easily.

Yet something about her lingered—her silence, her composure even while fainting, the way she tried to disappear the moment help arrived.

“She didn’t want attention,” he muttered. “Interesting.”

His phone buzzed. A message from his office. He ignored it.

For once, business felt irrelevant.

At a red light, he rested his head back against the seat, jaw tightening.

“Don’t get distracted,” he told himself. “She’s just a girl you helped.”

Just a girl.

And yet—

The image of her closing her eyes in the passenger seat, trusting him without a word, refused to leave his mind.

By the time he reached home, the idea of travelling no longer excited him.

Instead, an unfamiliar thought settled in his chest.

Fate doesn’t intervene without reason.

For the first time in a long while, Shahzain Zafar Siddiqui wondered—

What had just entered his life so quietly

that it already felt impossible to ignore?

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