After Zayn left Velaria, Danish leaned back in his chair, pulling his phone from his pocket.
He dialed an unknown number, his tone turning sharp and cold. "Be aware of everything you're doing—or about to do. I don't want any excuses," he said, before cutting the call.
Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he stabbed another bite of food with his fork, chewing slowly. A smile, thin and sharp, tugged at his lips.
"Well… the food is tasty," he muttered to himself.
Zayn walked out of Velaria and slid behind the wheel of his black Porsche. He settled into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel, his mind a whirlwind of static. With a sharp breath, he started the engine and pulled out into the street. Whenever confusion consumed him, whenever the weight of his world became too heavy, there was one place he always went. A place that gave him silence.
He drove for nearly an hour, the city lights fading into the calm darkness of the countryside. He stopped on a narrow, unmarked road.
Stepping out, he walked a little ahead until the garden opened up before him, and there it was—the large lake. Its surface gleamed under the faint moonlight, calm and endless. Near the edge stood a massive stone.
Zayn sat on it slowly, leaning forward with his hands clasped tightly together. His eyes remained fixed on the water, lost in thought, as if the lake held answers he couldn't find elsewhere. He stayed there for a long while, unmoving. Just the water. Just his thoughts. Just silence.
After about an hour, headlights cut across the quiet path. A car stopped a short distance away, and Meher stepped out. Her heels clicked softly as she glanced around. She noticed someone was already there, sitting near the lake—a stranger, or so she thought. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she brushed it off, choosing not to pay attention.
This place had always been hers.
Every Sunday, she came. Not for anyone else, but for the memories. It was here that she used to come with Aaira. Every Sunday, without fail. They would sit together, making drawings, sometimes running around the garden, sometimes simply laughing by the water. Now, only Meher came. Being here still felt like being with Aaira.
She walked further in, ignoring the man already seated near the stone. Neither of them realized that fate had quietly drawn their paths together, here, by this lake. Meher walked closer to the water and sat on a stone near Zayn, though she didn't notice him at first. Her eyes stayed on the water, her face quiet but full of emotions she didn't show to anyone else.
After a while, Zayn came out of his deep thoughts. He straightened his back, took a long breath, and finally looked to his side. His eyes widened slightly—Meher was sitting right there. At the same time, Meher turned her head and saw him. Both of them stood up quickly, pointing fingers at each other.
"What are you doing here?" they both demanded, their voices a sharp, almost perfect unison.
For a second, silence stretched between them. Meher tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away, while Zayn shoved one hand into his pocket and glanced back at the lake before facing her again.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice calm but with a razor edge.
Meher shot back, "The same thing I should be asking you. What are you doing here?"
Zayn raised a brow. "Why? Is this your private property now?"
Her jaw tightened, but she kept her composure. "If I wanted, I could buy this whole place. I have enough power for that." She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes.
Zayn rolled his eyes, too.
"You always ruin a perfectly fine mood,"
Meher muttered, annoyed.
"Always?" Zayn echoed, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? I—"
Meher cut him off sharply. "Tell me, are you actually innocent, or do you just pretend to be?"
His frustration grew. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
She stared straight at him. "Don't tell me you don't know. The café—you spilled coffee on my dress and ruined my mood. Then the meeting. And now here."
Zayn blinked, the pieces of a strange puzzle falling into place. "That was you?"
"Yes," she snapped. "So what exactly is your problem with me?"
"First of all," Zayn said firmly, "I didn't do any of that on purpose. And second, I was sitting here before you even arrived. So stop stalking me."
Meher let out a bitter laugh. "Stalking you? Please. My life isn't that miserable."
Zayn rubbed his forehead, a headache building behind his eyes. "God… I'm not doing this. I don't have the energy to fight with you right now. Let's just end this here."
But Meher smirked. "Oh no, I'm actually enjoying this." She tilted her head and added under her breath, "Idiot."
That was enough. Both of them turned on their heels, walking back to their cars in silence, a simmering anger the only thing they shared.
To be continued...