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The next morning, the sun was high, but Aira felt the weight of the night before pressing on her chest. The message from Elliot lingered in her thoughts, and despite the smile she forced when Imran greeted her with his usual morning charm, a small knot twisted in her stomach.
She didn't want to go back to the past. Not with him. And yet…
She glanced over at Imran, who was busy making breakfast. The smell of eggs and toast filled the kitchen, a comfort she had come to love. He caught her gaze and smiled, the warmth in his eyes making her feel both grounded and fragile at the same time.
"You okay?" he asked, his tone casual but knowing.
Aira swallowed. "Yeah. Just tired."
He didn't seem convinced but didn't press. Instead, he slid a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward her, his lips curling into a teasing smile. "Eat. You look like you haven't slept in days."
She managed a half-smile, thankful for the distraction. "I haven't been sleeping well lately," she said, picking at her toast.
Imran watched her closely but didn't comment. Instead, he grabbed his own plate and sat down next to her.
They ate in comfortable silence, the morning stretching out like a soft, familiar blanket. But Aira couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Her phone buzzed again—this time, it was a message from her mom.
> *Aira, please help me with the garden today. I'll need you to pick up some flowers for the dinner tonight.*
Aira read the message, grateful for the task. She needed something to occupy her mind. The storm inside her heart was growing stronger, and she had no idea how to weather it.
Imran noticed her stiffening as she glanced at her phone.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.
She forced herself to smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Nothing. Just mom stuff. I'll be fine."
Imran studied her for a long moment, his brow furrowing, but he didn't push. "If you need to talk…"
She nodded, but the words felt heavy in her mouth. She couldn't talk to him about Elliot—not yet. Not when everything was so new and fragile between them.
"I'll go with you," Imran said, standing up and grabbing his coat. "You shouldn't go alone. I'll drive."
She hesitated, but then a part of her welcomed the idea of having him with her. They hadn't spent much time alone since their night together, and the thought of being with him—without the pressure of pretending—felt like a small comfort.
They left the house together, driving in quiet harmony toward the local florist. The town, still damp from the previous night's rain, looked fresh and alive in the morning light. As they pulled up to the shop, Aira couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. There was something grounding about small towns—the way everything moved slower, quieter.
Imran parked the car, and they walked into the flower shop together. Mrs. Davies, the shop owner, greeted them with a bright smile. Aira noticed how easy it was for Imran to slip into conversation with her, making small talk like an old friend.
Aira, however, found herself distracted. Her phone buzzed again, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name on the screen.
**Elliot.**
She didn't know why, but she felt an urge to look at the message.
> *Aira, please. I just want to explain. I'll be at the park this afternoon. If you're free, come talk to me.*
Aira's fingers trembled as she read the words. She could feel her pulse racing in her veins.
"Everything okay?" Imran's voice broke through her thoughts.
Aira snapped her phone shut, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just work stuff. You know how it is."
Imran nodded, not fully convinced but choosing not to press further. "You're always welcome to call me if you need to talk. About anything."
She looked at him then, his sincerity in his eyes, and for a moment, she thought about telling him everything. About Elliot, about the part of her that hadn't let go, even though she knew she should.
But then she remembered the look on Imran's face when he had kissed her the night before—the tenderness, the hope. She didn't want to destroy that by bringing up a past she couldn't change.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Really. I'll keep that in mind."
As they picked out the flowers, Aira felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. The pull between her past and the future she wasn't sure she was ready for was growing stronger. And no matter how much she tried to focus on the present, Elliot's shadow loomed just out of sight.
Afterward, they returned to the house, where her mom was already setting up for the family dinner. The house was alive with the bustle of preparation—plates clattering, music playing softly in the background, the smell of roasted chicken filling the air.
But Aira couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.
And then, just as she finished helping her mom arrange the flowers in the center of the dining table, her phone buzzed again.
This time, she didn't even need to look at the screen. She knew it was him.
She excused herself and stepped into the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. The message was waiting.
> *I'm here. Please, just five minutes. That's all I'm asking.*
Aira stood there, the phone in her hand, torn between what was right and what felt impossible. She closed her eyes, trying to calm the storm inside her. Imran was waiting downstairs, probably thinking everything was fine between them. And yet here she was, still holding onto something that didn't belong.
A voice behind her made her jump.
"Aira?"
She turned and found her mom standing in the doorway, an amused smile on her face. "Everything okay?"
Aira nodded quickly. "Yeah, just… just needed a minute."
"Alright. But don't be gone too long. We've got guests coming soon."
Aira forced a smile. "I won't be."
Her mom left, and Aira's gaze fell back to her phone. The temptation was too strong, but the guilt gnawed at her. Imran was here. He was real. He was giving her something she'd never had before.
But Elliot's words echoed in her mind: *I need to explain.*
Aira closed her eyes, her heart racing. She had a choice to make. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like everything depended on this one moment.
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