One

I do not know whether returning to my hometown or my departure from it is the cause, I do not know. 

The weight of days, or their absence, is also the reason. I do not know.

I, seemingly carefree, glide delicately and gracefully along the edges of the roads, not for any particular destination, but to revel in the rain showers, often brushing against the fluttering wings of butterflies. Meanwhile, the tender embrace of the surrounding trees envelops me with a sweetness that encircles my very being. This has been my routine since adolescence when life unfurled anew amidst the blossoms of my hometown. I chose not to be indifferent, to turn a blind eye to the world around me. Instead, I embraced my true self—a person of kindness and strength. Even as I turn my back on you, moving forward with unwavering determination, my heart, though fractured, remains steadfast on a journey far from harm.

Here I am, shaking off the dust of the past, as though burdened with guilt for crimes never committed, as if I've stolen hearts when I've never tasted love. It was merely a fleeting admiration, lost to the oblivion of time, disappearing like my forgotten Facebook account from my last year of middle school, before departing from my hometown. I recall nothing but your eyes—eyes that no longer hold the same warmth. Now they brim with resentment as if I've wronged you in some unfathomable way, though neither you nor I truly understand the depths of our connection.

Had you asked me once, you wouldn't cast upon me that disdainful gaze, as though I were a criminal in your eyes, shrouded in your shame.

Amid the bustling crowd, time seemed to stand still, suspended between the gazes of two individuals, each separated by an invisible chasm. A young woman, cloaked in radiance, her hair dancing in the wind, locked eyes with a figure in the distance—a man whose intense glare seemed to convey a message of hatred, casting a shadow over her fragile form. Yet, despite the animosity burning in his eyes, he stood resolute, his towering presence a testament to his strength.

For the young woman, there was a flicker of recognition mingled with confusion. Where had she seen him before? And why did his gaze radiate such contempt? It was as if the world had paused to witness their silent exchange—a moment frozen in time, steeped in memories that only he seemed to hold. She smiled tentatively, but her gesture met with a scowl, prompting him to advance, on the verge of confrontation, only to watch helplessly as she was whisked away by a friend, vanishing into the crowd.

He stood there, consumed by a tempest of emotions, his anger seething beneath the surface. And then, just like that, the world resumed its frenetic pace, as if their encounter had never happened—or perhaps, as if it were merely the prologue to a story yet untold.

For love to flourish, misunderstandings must be laid to rest. Otherwise, it withers away, suffocated by the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

 The hospital teemed with a constant ebb and flow of people, a symphony of footsteps and whispered concerns swirling around Hana as she stood, weary and fraught with anxiety, at the reception desk. Her cousin's well-being hung heavy on her shoulders, a burden she bore with the weight of the world, though her strength wavered under the strain. Clad in a long, weathered brown coat and sleek black heels, she clutched a small bag in one hand, her laptop bag slung over her shoulder, a testament to the hurried urgency of her arrival.

With trembling words, she addressed the receptionist, desperation coloring her tone as she inquired about Rayan's condition. "What about Rayan? How is he? He was transferred here just moments ago?"

A reassuring smile touched the receptionist's lips as she replied, "He's stable, don't worry. He's resting in room 307. The doctor will update you on his progress shortly."

Gratitude flooded Hana's heart as she thanked the receptionist, her steps quickening towards the awaiting elevator. Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a familiar face crossed her path, though recognition eluded her once again, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts.

Ascending to the third floor, Hana approached room 307 with trepidation, her heart heavy with anticipation. Pushing open the door, she found Rayan lying still, the soft rise and fall of his chest betraying the peaceful slumber that enveloped him. Despite the chaos that swirled around them, he seemed untouched by the worries that plagued those who cared for him, including Hana, who had assumed the role of his steadfast guardian.

Hana settled into the chair beside Rayan's bed, shedding her coat and placing her bag on the nearby bedside table. With gentle precision, she reached for his hand, her touch a mixture of care and self-reproach, as if chiding herself for any lapse in concern. Methodically, she began to check his temperature, her movements precise and deliberate, a silent testament to her devotion.

Unbeknownst to her, the doctor lingered behind, his gaze a tempest of conflicting emotions—hatred and anger simmering beneath a facade of professional detachment. Each glance at Hana dredged up memories he had long tried to bury, his mind a prisoner to the whims of a relentless memory, tethering him to her despite the chasm of misunderstandings and false recollections that threatened to consume him. Nadir, standing in the shadows, observed her with a mixture of fascination and apprehension, his hesitation palpable as he grappled with the weight of unspoken truths.

As the clock ticked past nine in the evening, the cool embrace of autumn shrouded the world outside, casting a veil of melancholy over the hospital room—the perfect backdrop for the beginning of a love story, or perhaps the unraveling of one.

Determined to remain vigilant, Hana resisted the pull of sleep, her resolve unwavering even as Nadir lingered on the periphery, torn between duty and desire.

Minutes stretched into an eternity, the silence heavy with unspoken words and lingering tensions, until the arrival of an unexpected visitor disrupted the stillness. The appropriate doctor, stood framed in the doorway, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement as he addressed Nadir standing like a sentinel by the bedside.

"Why do you linger there like a specter?" his inquiry hung in the air, a challenge to break the suffocating silence that enveloped them all.

Nadir's gaze flickered with simmering anger as he turned to face his colleague, on the verge of retreating from the tense encounter. But before he could make his escape, Hana's keen intuition detected their presence, propelling her towards them with an urgency she couldn't quite suppress. Her voice trembled with apprehension as she addressed them, her polite inquiry veiling the fear that gnawed at her core.

"Excuse me, is one of you the doctor in charge of his case?" she asked, her gaze shifting between the two men who stood before her, their expressions inscrutable. Nadir, hands buried in his pockets, prepared to respond, but Hana's eyes locked onto his, oblivious to the familiarity that lingered in their shared past.

It was Marwan who spoke first, his voice a thread of recognition woven into the fabric of their exchange. "Hana, right?" he ventured, gesturing towards her with a tentative familiarity that belied his uncertainty. "I recognized you. You've changed a bit since the last time we met."

Hana's brow furrowed in confusion, her mind struggling to place the name and face before her. Marwan's next words provided the missing puzzle piece, unlocking a floodgate of memories from her past. "I'm Marwan, your landlady's son from your college days," he explained, igniting a spark of recognition in Hana's eyes.

"Oh, Marwan, I'm sorry," she murmured, a hint of remorse coloring her tone. "It's been so long, I couldn't quite place you. Are you working here? And how is my cousin?" she inquired, gesturing towards Rayan's room.

Nadir, whose resentment towards Hana only seemed to grow with each passing moment, bristled at the revelation of their connection. His silence spoke volumes as Marwan prompted him to provide an update on Rayan's condition.

"He's stable," Nadir finally conceded, his voice laced with thinly veiled hostility. "He's lactose intolerant, in case you've forgotten," he added pointedly, directing his gaze at Hana, who recoiled at the implication.

"I'm well aware," she shot back, her tone tinged with indignation. "But how did it escalate to this?" she demanded, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Nadir offered a terse explanation before swiftly retreating, leaving Hana to grapple with the whirlwind of emotions that swirled around her. As he departed, he cast a curious glance back at her, his gaze lingering on the unresolved tension that hung in the air like a heavy shroud.

As Marwan stood by Hana's side, a sense of concern lingered in his gaze, a silent testament to his empathy towards her plight. They engaged in a lengthy conversation, the words flowing freely between them until Hana, overcome by fatigue, offered a brief apology before excusing herself.

"I'm feeling a bit worn out. It's truly good to see you again," she confessed, her sincerity evident in her weary smile. As she made to enter the room, a sudden thought crossed her mind, prompting her to inquire about Linda.

"Oh, how is Linda?" she queried, her curiosity piqued.

Marwan's eyes lit up with fondness as he lifted his hand, displaying the gleaming ring adorning his finger. "She's my wife now," he announced proudly. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to hear from you. She's also here, working at the hospital," he added, a note of warmth infusing his words.

Hana returned his smile, offering her regards before disappearing into the room. Meanwhile, Marwan bid her farewell, making his way toward his office adjacent to Nadir's, where he found his colleague reclining on a black couch, lost in thought.

Nadir's brooding demeanor did not escape Marwan's notice, prompting him to inquire about the source of his agitation. "What's on your mind?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Nadir's response was cryptic, a mask of indifference masking the turmoil within. "Nothing," he muttered, though his troubled expression betrayed his inner turmoil.

Nadir persisted, probing gently. "Does your wife know about your friendships with women?" he ventured, a playful twinkle in his eye.

A soft chuckle escaped Marwan's lips, his cheeks flushing with amusement. "Are you referring to Hana? I believe Linda adores her more than she does me. Hana is truly one of a kind," he confessed, dismissing the subject with a casual wave of his hand.

However, Nadir's reaction was far from jovial, his features contorted with bitterness as he lashed out at Hana's perceived shortcomings. "One of a kind, indeed. She's the most insufferable person I've ever encountered," he retorted sharply.

Marwan's brows furrowed in confusion, prompting him to seek clarification. "Do you two know each other? Wait, are we talking about the same person? And why would she fail to recognize you?" he pressed, his curiosity piqued.

But Nadir's anger remained unabated, his gaze averted as he struggled to contain his resentment. "Because I'm the only one who remembers her. Every time we meet, it's as if she's meeting me for the first time," he explained tersely, his frustration palpable.

A pang of sympathy tugged at Marwan's heart as he observed his colleague's distress. "Does my face leave such a forgettable impression?" Nadir queried, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Marwan couldn't suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, offering a lighthearted response. "I suppose I'll let her off the hook this time," he quipped, his laughter echoing in the otherwise somber room as Nadir stormed out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Throughout the long night, Hana remained vigilant by Rayan's side, her eyes never straying from his form as she watched over him with unwavering devotion. As darkness gave way to the gentle hues of dawn, she sat beside him, a silent guardian in the early morning light.

With tender care, she had prepared breakfast, though her focus remained fixed on Rayan, her gaze a steady presence in the quiet room. As the sun's golden rays filtered through the window, casting a warm glow upon the scene, Hana's patience was rewarded as Rayan stirred from his slumber.

But as he blinked away the remnants of sleep, an unmistakable fear clouded his features, betraying the turmoil within. Despite his efforts to hide it, beads of sweat glistened upon his forehead, a telltale sign of his apprehension.

If it weren't for the beads of sweat that appeared on his forehead from fear, and if Hana hadn't noticed that, he would have remained frozen in place as if in a deep sleep.

Hana's words hung in the air, a quiet yet firm ultimatum that brooked no argument. "Choose," she demanded, her voice carrying a weight that belied its softness. "Either you open your eyes voluntarily, or I'll open them for you."

Rayan hesitated, his reluctance palpable as he slowly complied, his eyelids fluttering open like the hesitant petals of a flower. Beads of sweat traced a path down his forehead, a testament to the inner turmoil that gripped him.

As he struggled to find his voice, exhaustion evident in every strained syllable, he murmured, "Sister, I've burdened you."

But Hana's resolve remained unshaken, her gaze a fiery testament to her unwavering determination. She was a tempest on the verge of eruption, her anger simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

Rayan, ever attuned to his sister's moods, recognized the storm brewing within her. With a heartfelt apology, he sought to quell the rising tide of her anger, his weariness momentarily forgotten as he sought to mend the rift between them.

With a concerted effort, he pushed himself to sit upright, his words tumbling forth in a rush as he sought to explain himself. Unbeknownst to them, Nadir and Marwan lingered by the door, silent witnesses to the unfolding drama, their presence unnoticed amidst the intensity of the moment.

Rayan's words spilled forth in a torrent of apology and justification, his voice tinged with regret and remorse. "Sister, I'm sorry. It was just a game with my friends. I didn't realize the consequences of my actions. I didn't mean to trouble you. I don't want to be a burden," he pleaded, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness.

But Hana's patience wore thin as she listened to his excuses, her frustration boiling over until it erupted into a fiery tirade. "Shut up!" she bellowed, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Do you think your health is a game? Do you think the concern of others is just a joke to you?"

Rayan recoiled at her outburst, his head bowed in shame as Hana continued to admonish him, her anger palpable in every word. "Look at me!" she commanded, her tone unwavering as she demanded his attention.

Reluctantly, Rayan lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with contrition as Hana's tirade reached its crescendo. "I've come all this way, trembling with fear from head to toe," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you think this is a game? What will I tell my aunt if something happens to you? How can I possibly explain it? Or do you consider yourself insignificant?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, a final warning delivered with a fierce determination that brooked no argument. "This is the last time," she declared, her voice softened with a touch of sorrow. "The last time you'll put yourself in danger like this. I swear to you, if it happens again, I'll turn my back on you forever. Do you understand?"

Rayan, humbled by her words, reached out to gently grasp Hana's hands, his own trembling with remorse. "I'm sorry, sister," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he sought her forgiveness.

As Hana's anger simmered, Nadir's voice cut through the tension like a knife, his words laden with a mixture of sarcasm and bitterness. "So, even you, understand what feelings are, huh?" he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled resentment.

Hana's sharp gaze whipped around to confront him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion before flickering with recognition. She turned to Marwan briefly, her expression questioning, before refocusing her attention on Nadir. "And who might you be, doctor? Do I know you?" she challenged, her tone edged with defiance.

Nadir bristled at her dismissive tone, his anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. But before he could respond, a woman in her thirties burst into the room, her face alight with joy as she rushed towards Hana.

"My dear Hana, I've missed you," she exclaimed, enfolding Hana in a warm embrace that melted away the lingering traces of anger from her features. Hana returned the embrace with equal fervor, her sweet smile illuminating her face as she greeted the newcomer.

"Linda, it's been far too long," she replied, her voice tinged with affection as she welcomed her old friend back into her life.