The stillness of the early morning clung to the air like a heavy blanket. The silence was almost suffocating, save for the faint chirp of a lone bird somewhere in the distance. My eyes snapped open, the weight of a dream, or maybe just the restless thoughts in my head, pulling me out of sleep. It was 5 AM—too early for the world to stir, but my mind had already started its daily race.

I pushed the covers aside, the coolness of the room seeping in as I swung my legs to the floor. The bed, a messy tangle of sheets and pillows, seemed like the least of my concerns. I moved almost mechanically, my hands straightening the fabric without truly focusing on the task. My mind, however, was elsewhere.

It was the corner of the room that caught my attention—the old library shelf that had stood there untouched for weeks. I hadn’t opened those books in what felt like an eternity. The dust on the shelves was a testament to my neglect, but I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I needed to find that book.

With a sigh, I approached the shelf, my fingers grazing over the spines of the forgotten novels. There it was, buried beneath a pile of half-read books. I pulled it out gently, not wanting to disturb the fragile pages. The book opened with a soft creak, and there it was—her picture, staring back at me.

I stared at her face for a moment, the weight of it settling heavily in my chest.

"Zara ji, aapne bilkul sahi kaha tha, apne hi dhoka dete hai..." My voice was barely above a whisper, but the bitterness hung in the air between us. A small, rueful smile played on my lips. "Aapse ye umeed nahi thi..."

I ran my thumb over the edge of the photograph, as if the touch might bring her back, might make her hear me.

"Khair, assalamalaikum... Pata nahi kyun lagta hai ki kabhi toh mere salam ka jawab milega."

Her face remained silent, just as it always did. I placed the picture back carefully, but the ache in my chest remained. I closed the book, returned it to its resting place on the shelf, and with a sigh, wiped my hands on my joggers.

The clock on my phone blinked 6 AM—time to start the day. I stripped off my shirt, heading toward the bathroom. The mirror reflected a man still stuck in his own thoughts, a man who wasn’t sure where he was heading but knew the path before him was already set.

A quick shower, a routine I knew all too well, followed by the gym. The sweat soaked through my shirt, my body moving through the motions without truly feeling it. It wasn’t about the workout; it was about the distraction. I finished, took another shower—yes, another one, don’t judge—and then dressed.

A light blue shirt, black pants, and a branded watch. I glanced at my phone, the familiar face of Zara staring back at me. My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before I swiped to change the display picture, but the image of her lingered, a shadow in the back of my mind.

Downstairs, the smell of breakfast mixed with the usual chaos. Asad and Iqra were at it again, bickering like children over who got the jam first. I shook my head, the noise already grinding at my nerves.

"Faris beta, aajao, Baba chale gaye, aapko time pe aane ko bola hai," Ammi's voice floated through the air, snapping me from my thoughts.

7:30 AM. Baba, always busy with his meetings, had already left. As usual, I was the one left to pick up the slack.

"Hanji, Ammi, abhi aya mein," I called back, my voice flat. I wasn’t in the mood for their usual breakfast chatter.

As I walked into the dining area, Ammi was still trying to referee the sibling brawl. "Asad, Iqra, band karo ladhna aur chup chap breakfast karo." Her gaze shifted to me, softening as she smiled. "Arey, Faris agaye. Beta, jaldi baith jao, breakfast kar lo aur office jao."

The bickering siblings had already killed my appetite. "Koi na, Ammi, late ho raha hu. Chala jaunga, wahi kar lunga breakfast," I muttered, grabbing my laptop bag.

"Beta, kuch khaa ke to jao..." Ammi called after me, but I was already out the door. The driver was waiting by the car, his hands resting on the wheel.

"Let's move to the office," I ordered, sliding into the back seat.

The engine roared to life as we pulled away, the world outside starting to wake up. But inside, it was still dark. I could feel it in every breath, every beat of my heart.

HER POV

The clock on my bedside table blinked 4 AM, and without a second thought, I was already awake. The silence of the early morning felt like a warm embrace, familiar and comforting. Ten years in Turkey, and this city had become as much a part of me as I was of it. I knew its every twist and turn, the hidden alleyways that held memories and secrets, the streets that hummed with life even in the quiet hours before dawn.

I moved through my morning routine without thinking—freshening up, performing the Fajr prayer, and then stepping outside into the cool, crisp air for my morning walk. The streets were still, empty, just the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional distant sound of an early riser. It was my time to clear my mind, to breathe in the peace before the world began its hustle.

The walk was more than just a habit—it was the moment where everything slowed down. With each step, my thoughts seemed to untangle, and by the time I returned home, I felt like I had just pressed reset on my soul.

I quickly showered, the hot water washing away the chill of the early morning, and then dressed in my usual attire—a long kurta, straight pants, and my favorite brown leather watch. I slipped into my juttis, the soft fabric of them comforting against my feet. Ready for the day, I descended the stairs to the kitchen.

The smell of spices and fresh food filled the air as Ammi moved around, humming a soft tune. I couldn’t resist wrapping my arms around her from behind, pulling her into a warm hug. "Ammi, meri pyari Ammi," I murmured into her shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of her movements as she stirred the pot on the stove.

She glanced at me, a playful glint in her eyes. "Aaj Ammi pe itna pyar? Kya baat hai?"

I puffed my cheeks out in mock annoyance and folded my arms. "Ammi, aap ye mat bolna. Aap bhool gayi hain kya?" I raised an eyebrow, teasing her.

Just then, Abbu entered the room, his usual grin spreading across his face. "Arey Begum ji, aap apni beti ka birthday bhool gayi?"

I shot him a look, still with my arms folded. "Dekhiye na Abbu, inhe kuch yaad nahi rehta."

I pulled Abbu into a side hug, squeezing his hand. "Apko hi yaad hai bas," I said, my voice full of affection.

Abbu ruffled my hair fondly, a warm chuckle escaping his lips. "Nahi beta, naraz nahi hote."

Before I could say anything more, Ammi interrupted with a smile. "Mujhe yaad tha, isliye aaj aapki saari favorite dishes banengi shaam ko."

My eyes widened in surprise, my heart lighting up. "Sacchi?" I asked, almost not believing it.

"Jee mucchi," they both replied, sharing a look of warmth and understanding.

I felt a swell of gratitude in my chest, their love and care always making my day that much brighter. "Chalo phir, main chalti hoon. Ammi, Abbu, Allah Hafiz," I said, giving them both a final wave as I headed for the door.

It was 7:30 AM, time to head to my café. The early hours had always been my favorite time of day, filled with moments of reflection, connection, and anticipation. As I stepped out of the house and into the quiet streets, I felt grounded, ready to begin the busy day ahead.

Faris Dar sat in the backseat of the car, glancing at his watch with growing frustration.

"Move fast, I'm running late," he urged the driver. Without hesitation, the driver nodded and took the usual shortcuts, weaving through narrow streets and bustling alleys to make up for lost time.

Suddenly, the car came to a halt. The driver's eyes were wide with shock, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

Outside, a girl was helping a man whose cart had gotten stuck on the uneven road. Her hands moved deftly, and with a few quick motions, she pushed the cart free.

But that wasn't what had captivated the driver. It was her. The moment he saw her, it was as if the ground had shifted beneath him.

Her eyes, fierce and bright, seemed to burn right through him, sending a chill down his spine despite the morning warmth.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he nervously watched her. She looked up at him and signaled with a gentle wave for them to wait.

His breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he was so overwhelmed by her presence that he could barely move.

Quickly, his eyes darted to the rearview mirror, checking if Faris had noticed any of this. Thankfully, Faris was too preoccupied to see what was unfolding.

Gathering himself, the driver started the car again, gripping the wheel tighter, and took a sharp turn.

He rushed toward the office, his heart still racing, unable to shake the image of those eyes that had pierced straight through him.

As soon as the driver took the sharp turn and started speeding up, Faris couldn't help but think, "Ab inhe kya ho gaya?

Achanak itni tez gaadi kyu chala rahe hain?

Baba ka khauf ya mera?

Baba ka to khauf sabko hai, lekin yeh itna sweat kyun kar rahe hain?

Kahin bhoot-woot toh nahi dekh liya!" Shaking his head, Faris chuckled to himself.

"Gadha, kya kya soch raha hai tu! Waise bhoot ki zarurat bhi nahi hai, baba khud hi monster hain. Unhe dekh koi bhi dar jaye.

Lekin yeh itna tez kyun chala rahe? Kahin maar na de mujhe... arey arey, kya soch raha hoon mein?

Faris Dar saab, tujhse sab darte hain, yeh kya bakwaas soch raha hai?

Safe rehna hai, positive soch, positive!"

While trying to calm his thoughts, the driver suddenly announced, "Sir, office aa gaya." Faris glanced at him and noticed that the poor guy was still sweating.

"Inhe ho kya gaya hai? Khair, mujhe kya, main toh safely pahunch gaya," Faris thought as he stepped out of the car.

"Hushh, Faris bach gaya, warna aaj toh teri maut pakki thi jis speed se ye laya hai," he sighed, wiping his brow in relief. Still a bit rattled, he quickly moved towards the office building, stepping into the lift.

"Meeting mein jaldi jaana padega, warna fir baba ki class sunni padegi," he reminded himself, trying to shift focus back to his work as he headed toward the cabin.

Her Pov:

As soon as I unlocked the café door, the morning air seemed to hum with its usual promise of a busy day. Barely five minutes later, I spotted them—Imaad Bhai and Vikram Dada.

A smile broke across my face as I called out, "Assalamalaikum, Imaad Bhai!"

He looked up, his usual warm expression settling on me like sunlight. "Walekumassalam, bacche," he replied, his voice calm and familiar, like a comforting melody.

Turning to Vikram Dada, I couldn’t resist a playful punch to his stomach. "Aur kya haal, Vikram Dada?"

And there it was—his signature dramatic reaction. He clutched his stomach like I’d landed a knockout blow. "Ahhh, bacche! Bhot powerful ho gayi aap!"

I giggled, rolling my eyes. "Oh come on, Dada, aap firse!"

Our laughter blended into the cozy stillness of the café.

Then, hands on my hips, I arched an eyebrow at them. "Aaj kuch yaad hai apko?" I teased, watching for any hints on their faces.

They exchanged sneaky glances, the kind that made me suspicious. And then, like a scene straight out of a movie, they pulled out a small cake they had hidden behind them and shouted, "Happy birthday, bacche!"

For a moment, I froze, my chest tightening with emotion. They remembered.

Imaad Bhai’s hand rested gently on my head. "Hamari ikloti princess ka birthday kaise bhool sakte hai?"

Vikram Dada was practically bouncing with excitement. "Blow the candle, blow the candle, baccha!"

Leaning forward, I took a deep breath and blew out the candles as the café staff suddenly joined in, their voices harmonizing into a cheery Happy Birthday. The knife slid through the cake effortlessly, and the first bites went, of course, to my two troublemakers.

But my moment of bliss was short-lived.

"You don’t have to work today, bacche. Hum sab kar lenge," Imaad Bhai declared, his tone resolute.

Vikram Dada nodded, his grin wide and infectious. "Haan, princess, hum sambhal lenge kitchen ka kaam. Aap bas aaj relax karo."

I folded my arms, fixing them with a look I hoped was stern enough to match their energy. "Sambhal loge, huh? Last time jo kitchen blast kiya tha, woh yaad hai? Main permission nahi de rahi!"

Their groans of protest followed me as I turned on my heel, determined to stay firm. But they weren’t done.

"Bacche, please na!" Imaad Bhai pleaded, practically jogging after me.

"Princess, please!" Vikram Dada added, his voice dripping with exaggerated desperation.

Stopping mid-step, I sighed dramatically before turning to face them. "Theek hai, theek hai! Kitchen mein nahi, lekin waiter ka kaam kar sakte ho. Manzoor?" My arms stayed crossed, waiting for their answer.

They practically shouted, "Hamari choti si jaan ke liye kuch bhi!"

Their enthusiasm cracked me up. And when they reappeared a few minutes later in waiter uniforms, I couldn’t hold back the giggles.

"Hehe, bhaiyu, Dada!" I teased, covering my mouth like I’d discovered a treasure. "Aap log bohot pookie-cookie lag rahe ho! Haaye mashallah, mere bhaiyon ko nazar na lage!"

I even did the little "nazar utarna" gesture with my hands, circling their heads. Their laughter boomed across the café.

"Pookie-cookie? Yeh kya hota hai?" Vikram Dada asked, his face scrunched in mock confusion.

I smirked, savoring the moment. "Kuch nahi, bhaiyu aur Dada. Ab chalo, kaam pe lago!"

Their laughter faded as they shuffled off to start their "waiter duties," and I shook my head, amused. These two were truly something else.

But as they started fumbling around with menus and awkwardly greeting the few customers trickling in, I called out to them with a mischievous glint in my eye.

"Waise, iske baad ek story sunani hai jo aaj hua."

Both of them paused, curiosity lighting up their faces. But I just smiled to myself. Let them wonder for a bit.

Hey Beauties!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I know the girl's POV is still a secret, but don't worry-the name will be revealed in the next chapter. To make sure you don't miss out, please vote and comment on this chapter. Your feedback is crucial for me, and it really helps in keeping the story going.

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Thank you for your support and enthusiasm. Stay tuned, and let's keep this journey exciting!

But please do read prologue tb tk nhi smjhega apko aise ignore na kre yrr aur aesthetics bhi dekh le please🥺🥺🥺