Chapter 6 – The Shadows Within

The night stretched endlessly, thick with silence. Haider walked aimlessly through the empty streets, hands tucked into his coat pockets. The cold wind pressed against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was somewhere else—somewhere far away, trapped in a place he had buried long ago.

The city lights flickered around him, neon reflections stretching across the wet pavement. The distant hum of life—the sound of cars, muffled conversations, the occasional siren—faded into the background.

And in that quiet, the past whispered his name.

Some wounds never heal. Some ghosts never leave.

And Haider had been haunted for years.

The Weight of the Past

People say time heals. But Haider knew that was a lie.

Time doesn't heal. It just teaches you how to survive with the scars.

Some scars are visible, written across flesh like old battle wounds. Others? They are invisible but deeper. Wounds that never truly close. Wounds that shape the person you become.

Haider had plenty of those.

A childhood filled with silence and expectations. A home that felt more like a battlefield. A father who believed that love was weakness and a mother who never fought back.

And then, three years ago, a night that had rewritten everything.

A night he still saw in his dreams.

Flashback – Three Years Ago

The rain had come suddenly that night, turning the roads into rivers. He remembered the way the headlights cut through the darkness, the way the thunder cracked the sky in two.

He had been driving too fast. He remembered that too.

His grip on the steering wheel had been tight, his knuckles white. The fight with Abrish still echoed in his head, her voice raw with emotion.

"You think pushing people away will keep you safe?"

"I don't need saving, Abrish."

"No, but maybe you need to stop running."

Her words had settled in his chest like a weight, pressing against his ribs. He had told himself he didn't care. That he could walk away and never look back.

But then his phone had rung.

And everything had changed.

A Call That Broke Everything

His brother's voice had been frantic on the other end. "you need to come home. Now."

Something in his tone had cut straight through the anger burning in his chest.

"What happened?"

A pause. A sharp inhale. And then—

"It's Ammi."

The world had tilted. The car, the rain, the fight—everything else disappeared.

His mother.

The woman who had spent a lifetime silent. Who had watched as he was torn down, as his father's words cut into his skin like knives. The woman who had never fought for him.

But she had still been his mother.

And now she was gone.

The Funeral – A Stranger in His Own Home

The house had been filled with people, their voices hushed, their faces blurred. He had stood in the corner, watching, listening. He had never felt more like an outsider.

His father had been there, expression unreadable, hands clasped behind his back like a man surveying a business deal.

Not a husband grieving his wife.

His brothers had stood beside him, their shoulders stiff, their eyes dry. In their world, men didn't cry.

So he hadn't cried either.

But inside, something had cracked.

And when he had finally stood by her grave, staring at the fresh dirt covering the coffin, he had felt something else, something that burned through the sadness.

Guilt.

Because he hadn't been there.

Because she had left this world the same way she had lived in it—alone.

Present Day

Haider stood by his office window, staring at the skyline. The city stretched endlessly, alive with movement, with purpose. He had built this empire from the ground up.

His name carried weight now. No one could control him anymore. No one could call him weak.

Khan Enterprises.

A symbol of power. A name people respected.

And yet, it felt hollow.

He had everything he once thought he wanted.

Success. Independence. Control.

But what good was control when the past still owned you?

What good was power when the ghosts never left?

The Truth That Couldn't Stay Buried

Three years. That's how long he had spent avoiding this moment.

Avoiding the memories. Avoiding her.

She had always been the only person who saw past the armor, past the sharp edges. She had looked at him like he was more than his mistakes.

And now, she wanted the truth.

But the truth was ugly.

The truth was that he had spent his whole life running.

Running from his father's expectations.

Running from his mother's silence.

Running from the people who tried to love him.

And on the night he lost his mother, he had done the same thing to Abrish.

He had shut down. Shut her out. Told himself that love—attachment—only led to pain.

So he had walked away.

And he had never looked back.

A Ghost From the Past

The knock on his office door was soft, hesitant.

For a moment, he didn't move.

Then—"Haider?"

His breath caught.

He turned.

And there she was.

For the first time in three years.

Standing in his doorway.

Looking at him like she still saw something in him worth saving.

And for the first time in a long time…

He wasn't sure if he wanted to run anymore.