Preparation

★Asif's POV★

After the whole storm of emotions at the park, finally stepping into my house felt… quiet.

But not the suffocating kind.

For the first time in a long while, the silence didn't feel heavy.

I dropped my bag at the corner and headed straight to the washroom. Took a long, warm shower—trying to wash off all the tiredness, all the tangled-up thoughts. But even under the water, I found myself smiling.

Tithi is fine.

That sentence alone gave my mind a strange sense of peace.

I changed into my old home t-shirt and shorts, then carried the packet of chocolate biscuits I'd bought earlier back into my room. Yeah, this was dinner tonight. Again. No surprise—dad had left a scribbled note on the table like always.

"Working late. Don't wait. Be good."

Yeah yeah, nothing new.

As I flopped onto my bed and tore open the biscuit pack, another thought suddenly struck me like a slap.

Wait… I don't even have Sara's contact number.

I paused mid-bite.

Seriously?

We had that kind of emotional conversation. She dropped a literal life-changing truth on me. I broke down crying on her shoulder like a lost child.

And I didn't even think of asking for her number.

I leaned my head back and laughed quietly.

Her voice echoed in my head—

"I ain't being friendly with you."

That line alone made me chuckle again.

If we weren't... tangled by that weird, family connection, she probably would've been a fun junior to hang out with. Someone sharp, sarcastic, but not entirely heartless.

And then I realized something else.

That conversation I had with her—out of all people—I didn't freeze. I didn't stutter like a broken CD. I didn't avoid eye contact.

I talked.

Really talked.

Was it because we shared pain?

Or maybe…

Just maybe, Sara was the first female to quietly crack the wall I'd built around myself over the years unconsciously.

Whatever it was, it left me feeling lighter.

I munched another biscuit and grabbed my phone. Then it hit me—Ayesha.

I hadn't finalized the time yet for tomorrow.

I nervously opened WhatsApp.

"Hey.."

Yup, that's it. Classic, boring opener. My brain couldn't function beyond that.

But the moment she replied—

>"Hey Asif, what's up?"

—I smiled.

I stared at the screen for a bit, then quickly typed,

"Everything good. I was thinking when should we meet tomorrow?"

It felt good to be able to just say things like this. Like a normal conversation. No second-guessing, no panicking. Because here, in chat, my voice didn't crack, my hands didn't tremble, and my face didn't turn into a tomato.

Her reply came after a moment:

>"What about 10am?"

Smooth.

Almost too smooth.

I blinked. Smiled.

"So 10am, in front of the train station."

I hit send.

A second later, she heart-reacted to the message.

I nearly dropped the biscuit from my hand.

And then came:

>"Ok then, see you tomorrow."

I exhaled. I didn't realize I was holding my breath.

>"Good night, Asif."

Her final message for the night.

My chest did a small flip.

This is happening. For real.

I checked the clock—almost 11. I set the alarm for 6 a.m. Better to wake up early and not risk any disasters. I even pulled out my nicest casual outfit—nothing too flashy, just simple jeans, a clean jacket, and the shoes I barely wear.

Everything felt new. Exciting. Terrifying.

But… kind of nice.

Before I turned off the lights, I opened my chat with Sajim.

"Thanks for the tips, matchmaker. I owe you one."

Then I placed the phone on the table and turned over on my bed, hugging my pillow.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

But for the first time in forever…

I was looking forward to it.