Slowly Yielding

It had been two days since their quiet moment in the garden, yet the memory lingered in Zarif's mind like a song stuck on repeat.

He hadn't seen much of Zara since then.

She was always busy—coordinating things with the staff, speaking with the family accountant, handling house matters like a quiet storm—always present, yet distant. She moved like a queen who didn't need to raise her voice to command attention.

And that only made it worse.

Zarif found himself looking for excuses to be around her. A shared cup of tea. A question about some document he could've easily asked his assistant. A late dinner where he'd wait until she sat first.

But she never lingered.

Not anymore.

And it was driving him insane.

The afternoon sun filtered in through the tall windows of the living room, casting golden light on the polished marble floor. Zarif stepped inside, planning to grab a file and head back to his study. But the moment his eyes landed on the scene in front of him, his steps faltered.

Zara was laughing.

A soft, melodic sound escaped her lips as she covered her mouth with her hand. Sitting beside her on the couch was Sohail, Zarif's younger cousin. They were watching a video of some chaotic village wedding on Sohail's phone, the kind where goats ran wild and the groom tripped over the bride's dress. It was harmless. Innocent—nothing flirtatious, just an easy, natural laughter over something on her phone. Zarif froze in the doorway, his eyes locked on the curve of her smile.

But something about it gnawed at Zarif.

That smile.

The one she never gave him.

She looked so relaxed—shoulders loose, eyes bright. And Sohail, oblivious to the tightness in Zarif's jaw, kept the jokes coming.

His jaw tightened.

He walked toward them, his steps calm, collected. On the surface.

"What's going on?" he asked coolly.

Sohail gave a casual wave, but sensing Zarif's expression,his breath caught as he gulped, the weight of anxiety pressing down on him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Zara looked up, still smiling. "Sohail was showing me this video—something about a goat stealing a bride's veil during a village wedding."

Sohail chuckled. "I swear it looked like the goat had second thoughts about its own arranged marriage."

Zara laughed again, covering her mouth. "Honestly, the bride handled it better than most people handle actual in-laws."

Zarif's gaze didn't leave her. "I didn't realize you found Sohail so entertaining."

Sohail blinked, taken aback.

Zara tilted her head slightly,"Well, he's got a good sense of humor.He's easy to talk to."

That was a jab. It landed right where it was meant to.

Zara's smile dimmed slightly. She turned to Zarif. "Did you need something?"

Zarif didn't reply. Instead, he turned to Sohail. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The air grew tense.

Sohail got the message. "Right. I'll, uh, see you both later."

Once he left, silence stretched between them.

Zara crossed her arms. "What was that for?"

Zarif didn't answer. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes.

"You don't have to smile for everyone," he said, quieter this time. "Especially when you don't mean it."

"I wasn't faking it," she said calmly. "Some people are easy to talk to."

That stung more than it should have.

He stepped closer, voice low. "Why do you pull away from me?"

Zara blinked. "I don't."

"You do," he said. "You're everywhere, and yet… never here."

She tilted her head slightly, like she was reading something in his expression. "You said you didn't want me,I was forced onto you. You made it clear on the first day."

"I was wrong," he admitted, almost breathless.

The words tasted like guilt.

Zara didn't flinch, but her expression hardened just a little. "And now that you're unsure of your feelings, you want me to stop being sure of mine? "

That hit hard.

He stepped back, ashamed.

"I'm not playing games," he said quietly.

"I know," she replied, just as softly. "That's what makes this so hard."

She stood up, brushing her dress smoothly.

"You told me not to expect anything from you. And I didn't. I gave you space. I gave you silence. I gave you room to feel whatever it is you're feeling. But I won't apologize for building a life despite it."

Zarif looked at her then, really looked at her—not just as the girl who had walked into his life, but the woman who stood before him now. The one who had stayed. The one who had fought.

She turned away again, retreating to the shadows of the hallway.

Zarif stood there, stunned, breath catching in his throat.

And he realized he was scared.

Because he was falling.

And she was walking away