𖥻﹕𝖥𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖮𝗇𝖾𝗌﹒ຯ - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Bruised, But Unbroken
From the very next day, the Hadid Villa was swept into a whirlwind of preparations. Wedding bells were not just ringing-they were thundering. Arrangements needed to be made, and they were endless: catering menus to finalize, decoration themes to decide, dress fittings, jewelry deliveries, venue coordination, altar setups, guest lists, and managing the countless workers moving in and out like clockwork.
And right at the center of it all stood Fahmid, shouldering most of the weight without a single complaint. Yes, others were there to help, but it was Fahmid's name everyone called out whenever a decision had to be made or a problem cropped up. The responsibility had practically tattooed itself on his skin.
Rashid, ever the loyal companion and brother by bond, had flown in to help. He stuck by Fahmid's side like his shadow, making sure he did not burn himself out.
At one point, the two were standing near the stage, instructing the decorators. "More marigolds near the entrance arch, and hang the white orchids above the altar-not beside it." Fahmid directed with a calm authority, despite the chaos buzzing around.
Rashid nudged him. "You've become quite the wedding planner, huh?" Trying to lighten up his mood.
Fahmid chuckled lightly. "Only because I have no choice."
Just then, a burst of laughter rang through the air-soft, melodic, and familiar.
Both men turned to see Ayaan and Afreen entering the decorated garden. They were lost in their own little bubble, giggling about something Ayaan had said, nudging each other playfully.
Fahmid's eyes instinctively found Afreen. And hers found his. Time paused. For a moment that felt like an eternity, their eyes locked-unsaid words and unresolved emotions swelling in the silence between them. But just as quickly, Afreen looked away, a guarded smile on her lips as Ayaan tugged at her sleeve, pulling her to another corner of the venue.
The moment shattered. Rashid watched it all unfold, his jaw tightening. His patience had run dry. He turned sharply toward Fahmid, his voice low but biting. "You've got no self-respect left, do you?"
Fahmid blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Rashid scoffed. "She just walked past you like you were a stranger. She didn't even acknowledge you, Fahmid! And you...you stood there smiling like a fool. Why don't you just let her go already? Or at the very least, stop acting like you're unaffected. Pretend she means nothing to you-Allah knows she's doing a great job pretending you mean nothing to her."
Fahmid did not react right away. He looked back at the spot Afreen had disappeared to, a gentle ache flickering in his eyes.
Then he smiled-softly, sadly. "Rashid," he said, turning to him with a look too calm for someone so heartbroken, "I could never hate her."
Rashid frowned. "Even now? After everything?"
"She could ignore me, despise me, even pretend I don't exist-but I don't love her for how she treats me. I love her because I... just do. No conditions. No expectations." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She could stab me, and I'd still ask if she was okay."
Rashid looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. "You're insane."
Fahmid chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Maybe. But that's what love is, my friend. One day, when you fall head over heels for someone, you'll get it. Until then..."
He turned back to the decorators. "You all better get this stage right before I come back and cut off your day's snacks."
Rashid just shook his head, watching his friend walk away-carrying a heart that was bruised but still full of devotion.
The night before the wedding arrived like a slow, suffocating wave. Everything was almost in place-decorations, seating, rituals. Everyone else buzzed with excitement, but Fahmid felt like he was walking toward the edge of a cliff.
His heart pounded violently in his chest when he got Afreen's message: "Meet me. Back of the house. Now."
He did not know what to expect-hope or heartbreak. But he still went. The cool night air kissed his skin as he walked to the backyard, the faint hum of distant celebrations muffled by the trees. There she stood-Afreen, illuminated under the moonlight, her hands tucked behind her, posture composed but aura stormy.
"Bunny?" Fahmid called out, his voice soft. Almost hopeful.
She did not even turn to look. "Afreen. It's Afreen." She corrected coldly.
Fahmid froze, the breath knocked out of him. She had never not let him call her Bunny before. "...What?" He whispered, as if trying to convince himself he heard wrong.
"A-Angel, what are you saying? Bunny, please, don't do this. I-I know you don't love me the way I love you, but please... please, don't push me away like this. If not your lover, can't I at least stay your Lion-ie?" He stepped forward, tears glossing his eyes as he cupped her face gently, like she was made of fragile glass.
But Afreen's face did not even flicker. She removed his hands with chilling ease. "It is what it is, Fahmid. I'm getting married tomorrow. I can't have some other man calling me pet names that only my husband is allowed to use."
Fahmid stumbled back a step. Other man. That was what he was to her from then on. He let out a humorless, broken chuckle. "Right. Of course. Only your husband gets that right. My apologies... Ms. Afreen Hadid."
His voice turned sharp, wounded. "Was that all? Is that what you called me for? Because you know... it doesn't look good for a bride-to-be to meet another man late at night."
He turned to leave, shoulders trembling ever so slightly. But then-
"Do you love me?" The question landed like a slap. He halted in his tracks, still facing away.
Then he gave a bitter laugh. "More than you'll ever know."
There was a pause. A beat. Then: "Can you do anything for me?"
Fahmid did not hesitate. "Even the impossible."
And then came the blow. The kind that cuts not the skin, but the soul. "Then leave me. And forget me." She clenched her fists behind her back-barely holding herself together.
Fahmid spun around, his expression a storm of disbelief, pain, and betrayal. "W-What?"
Afreen crossed her arms, not meeting his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I don't know what you're planning. What if you try to stop the wedding tomorrow? You just said you'd do the impossible. I-I can't risk it, Fahmid."
Silence.
Then a soft, broken laugh escaped from Fahmid's lips. But that one was not bitter-it was devastated. "Wow. Just... wow." His voice trembled, cracking like glass under pressure.
"You really think that I-me, who loved you without asking for a damn thing in return-would stoop so low to ruin your big day?" He stepped closer, eyes blazing-not with anger, but raw hurt.
"You just insulted my love, Afreen." His voice trembled-part rage, part heartbreak. He took a step back, as if the weight of her words knocked the air out of him. "And you..." He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, "you don't get to do that."
Then louder, almost breaking-"YOU HAVE NO DAMN RIGHT TO DO SO!" His voice turned into a low growl, and before he realized it, he had pinned her gently-but firmly-against the nearest tree. His arms caged her in, trembling with emotion.
Afreen's eyes widened. She had never seen him like that. Her Lion-ie, who never even raised his voice at her, was staring at her with hurtful rage. He was shaking in fury and heartbreak.
"You want me to walk away? Fine. I'll do it. I'll disappear from your life. I'll never show my face again." He stepped back. "But don't you dare-don't ever-tell me to forget you. Or to stop loving you. Because that's mine. That's all I have left of us. And no one-not even you-gets to take that from me."
His voice broke at the end, a whisper of a man holding in a scream. He reached out one last time, placing a trembling kiss on her forehead. "I will always love you, no matter what. Wish you a beautiful life, Mrs. Afreen Ayaan Ahmed." And with that, Fahmid turned and walked away. For good.
─ BACK TO THE PRESENT ─
...Year 2025.
Fahmid let out a faint smile as he finished narrating the story that had been buried deep inside him for three long years.
After a pregnant pause, "And then," he said, exhaling slowly, "I picked up the military acceptance letter... And here I am."
The silence that followed was heavy, thick with emotion. His batchmates-strong, battle-worn soldiers who had faced bullets without flinching-then sat with misty eyes, visibly shaken by the rawness of his pain. A few sniffles echoed around the fire. Humaira wiped a tear hastily, while Bashir clenched his jaw, trying to mask his emotions.
Fahmid gave them all a sheepish smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hey, guys! Relax, alright? That was three years ago. It's all in the past now. I didn't bring it up to make everyone sad. I just... didn't want to leave without you all knowing who I really am."
He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "See? This is exactly why I never talk about love. Look at you all-sitting here like heartbroken teenagers! Aren't we supposed to be rough and tough military officers?"
The group let out a shaky laugh, but the pain still lingered in the air like smoke. Then Humaira's voice broke through the silence, low and uncertain. "Do you still l-love her, Fahmid?"
All eyes turned to him. Fahmid's expression softened. He looked into the flames for a moment, then nodded. "Well, I never stopped."
The simplicity of his answer hit harder than any dramatic speech could. Bashir leaned forward, brows furrowed. "But... is it easy? Loving someone who might never love you back? Doesn't it exhaust you?"
Fahmid smiled faintly, almost like he was thinking of Afreen in that very moment. "Trust me," he said, "it's the most beautiful feeling. One-sided love-it's the purest form. It asks for nothing. No promises, no reciprocation. It's yours and yours alone. You own it. No one else can touch it or taint it. Not even her."
He placed his palm over his heart. "She may never know what I truly feel. She may never love me the same way. But that doesn't make my love any less real. Whether she likes it or not, my feelings-they're mine. And no one can take them away from me."
There was a long pause, followed by slow nods from everyone. Their respect for Fahmid grew tenfold in that moment. To love so selflessly... To carry that kind of devotion without bitterness... It was not weakness. It was strength.
Then, suddenly, Fahmid clapped his hands. "Alright, that's enough heavy talk! This is my last night with you people, and I don't want to spend it crying over someone who probably thinks I've already forgotten her!"
He grabbed a glass, lifted it high, and grinned. "Come on, guys. Let's party, party, yeah!" Laughter finally rang out again, and one by one, they followed Fahmid's lead, raising their glasses and shouting cheers into the night. The night went on, the stars shimmered, and somewhere in that noise of the party, Fahmid's silent love still burned-untouched, unshaken, and unforgettable.
The next day arrived faster than anyone expected. The morning sun peeked over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow on the train station platform where Fahmid's batchmates had gathered to bid him farewell. Despite the smiles and laughter, an air of sadness lingered-it was hard to let go of someone who had become family.
They exchanged hugs, high-fives, and heartfelt promises to stay in touch. "Whenever we get time, we meet. No excuses," Bashir said, clenching Fahmid's shoulder.
"Promise," Fahmid smiled. And with that, he boarded the train, turning back for one last wave as the wheels began to roll. His heart ached a little-parting always did-but he was also ready for what was to come.
Two and a half hours later, the train pulled into the capital city. As it slowed to a halt at the bustling station, Fahmid stepped down with a backpack over one shoulder and a nervous heart.
His eyes scanned the crowd. Would they come? He had not told his parents in person when he left for training. All they had was a letter. A letter that confessed everything-his love for Afreen, his pain, and the reasons he had to leave the way he did. He did not mention her rejection nor her conditions. Just... his truth.
He did not expect forgiveness. But he hoped. And sometimes, hope was enough.
His breath caught in his throat when he spotted them. His mother, Sabrina, stood by the platform edge, eyes already glassy. Beside her, his father, Hamza, stood tall as ever, his usual stoic expression unreadable.
Fahmid did not think twice. He sprinted towards them. "Maa!" He called out, his voice cracking.
Sabrina did not wait-she opened her arms, and he collapsed into her embrace. The moment he touched her, all the weight he had carried over the years seemed to dissolve. She held him tightly, sobbing without restraint.
"My prince... I missed you so much." She cried, her tears soaking into his shirt.
"I missed you more, Maa. Your food, your scolds, your scent, your presence... everything. Everything." His voice trembled, his arms tightening around her.
Then a throat cleared nearby. Fahmid turned his head and finally met his father's eyes. "Baba?"
Hamza's face softened. He did not wait for an explanation. He stepped forward and wrapped his son in a strong embrace.
"Welcome back, my son," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too, Baba," Fahmid whispered, fighting back the lump in his throat. "And I'm sorry. I should've-"
Hamza pulled back slightly, his hands still gripping his son's shoulders. "Don't apologize. It's not wrong to feel what you did. Love is never wrong. I was just... upset you didn't tell me earlier. I could've helped. Or at least understood." Fahmid nodded. It was more than he ever expected.
"Ah, Baba, chillax." He chuckled tiredly. "It's all in the past now. Let's just go home. I'm dead tired."
The three of them walked toward the car. Once inside, Fahmid settled in the back seat. He leaned his head on his mother's shoulder, the safest place he had ever known. Within minutes, his eyes fluttered shut. And just like that, after three long years, the ravenette was finally home.