Chapter 4 - The First Step Into the Fire Present

The cold air drifted in through the half-open window, making the room feel emptier than it already was.

 Haider Khan sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped together, his mind tangled in a storm of thoughts he couldn't escape. He hadn't closed his eyes all night. Even if he had tried, the ghosts of his past would've never let him rest.

The name was like an echo—loud, relentless, impossible to ignore. He hadn't spoken to her in three years, yet here he was, unable to think of anything else.

His reflection in the mirror across the room caught his attention. The man staring back at him was unfamiliar—tired, hollow, broken. His once sharp features were now lined with exhaustion. His jet-black hair, slightly disheveled, framed a face that had lost its boyish arrogance. The deep brown eyes, which once carried a fire, now held nothing but quiet torment.

He exhaled, leaning back against the cold wall. His mind kept replaying one question:

Why now? Why did she want to see him after all this time?

But maybe the real question was—did he have the courage to face her?

Three Years Ago – The Beginning

The campus was alive with its usual chaos—students rushing between classes, laughter echoing in the corridors, and the occasional honk from a car outside. But none of that mattered to Zayan. His attention was fixated on a single person standing under the shade of a tree, flipping through a book.

Abrish.

He had never really noticed her before that day. Sure, he had seen her around—how could he not? But she had never been of any interest to him. Until now.

Her chestnut-brown hair cascaded over her shoulder in soft waves, occasionally catching the golden afternoon light. She was wearing a simple yet elegant sky-blue kurti with delicate embroidery, paired with white leggings. There was nothing flashy about her, yet she stood out effortlessly.

She was different.

And that alone was enough to catch Zayan's attention.

He nudged his friend with a smirk.

"So, this is the girl who rejected you?"

His friend scoffed.

"Yeah, man. Can you believe it? She didn't even let me finish my sentence. Just straight-up said no."

Zayan chuckled.

"Brutal."

"She's full of herself."

But Zayan didn't see arrogance when he looked at her. He saw something else—certainty. She carried herself with quiet confidence, completely unaware of the eyes that followed her.

She wasn't trying to impress anyone.

And maybe that's what made her so dangerous.

His friend grumbled. "Forget her, man. Let's go."

But Zayan wasn't planning on letting this go.

Not yet.

The First Conversation

Later that day, fate (or maybe Zayan's arrogance) had given him an opportunity he couldn't resist.

He had been standing near the library, casually scrolling through his phone, when he saw her approaching from a distance. Alone.

Perfect.

As she walked past, he called out,

"So, you don't even acknowledge people now?"

She stopped, confused, before turning to look at him.

Her hazel-brown eyes met his. There was no nervousness, no hesitation. Just quiet curiosity.

"I'm sorry?"

Zayan smirked, stepping forward.

"You rejected my friend in record time. At least say hello when you see him."

Abrish blinked, her expression unreadable.

"I didn't reject him. I just said no."

Zayan raised an eyebrow.

"That's literally the definition of rejection."

She shook her head, a ghost of a smile appearing.

"No, rejection is when you make someone believe they have a chance before crushing them. I never gave him that impression."

Zayan was taken aback for a second. He hadn't expected such a sharp response.

Interesting.

"So, you're saying you're doing guys a favor by rejecting them before they embarrass themselves?" he teased.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him.

"I'm saying I don't play games."

Zayan had spent years surrounded by people who thrived on mind games, manipulation, and pretense. But this girl—she was different.

And that's when he knew.

She was a challenge.

And Zayan Haider Khan never walked away from a challenge.

Present

The harsh ring of his phone pulled him out of the past.

He glanced at the screen.

Aryan.

Haider took a deep breath before answering. "Yeah?"

"You left me on read, Haider."

Haider ran a hand through his hair. "I was thinking."

Aryan's voice was calm but firm. "And what conclusion did your overthinking bring you to?"

Haider sighed. "That I can't change the past."

There was a pause.

"No, you can't," Aryan agreed. "But you can choose what kind of man you want to be moving forward."

Haider stared at the floor.

"I don't even know if I deserve to move forward."

Aryan's voice softened.

"Then maybe that's exactly why you need to."

Silence stretched between them before Aryan finally said, "I'll pick you up at six."

Haider hesitated.

Then, finally, he whispered, "Alright."

As the call ended, Haider exhaled slowly.

Tomorrow, he would face her.

For the first time in three years, he would come face-to-face with the girl whose name still haunted him.

And he had no idea what would happen next.