For the first time in weeks, Zafar looked… lighter.
Not happy—he didn't know what happiness looked like anymore—but lighter.
He invited Zoha to dinner again. This time, it wasn't awkward. This time, it felt right.
They cooked together.
He chopped vegetables. She teased his terrible cutting skills.
Ezra babbled in his high chair, clapping every time Zoha laughed.
Zafar watched them both, his heart tightening with an emotion that terrified him.
This is what I was afraid to want.
He even let Zoha feed Ezra, bathe him, put him to sleep. Watching her hold his son like he was her own made Zafar's chest ache in the most unfamiliar way.
A woman had never stepped this close to his soul before.
And yet…
He didn't push her away.
Not this time.
Later that night, Zoha leaned against the balcony railing, watching the moonlight shimmer on the grass below. Zafar joined her, silent.
She spoke first. "You were different tonight."
"I feel different," he said quietly.
"How?"
He looked at her, voice rough. "I don't feel like a ghost anymore."
Zoha turned, her heart skipping. "Then what do you feel like?"
He stepped closer. "Human."
And just when their lips were a breath apart…
The doorbell rang.
Zafar's entire body froze. His eyes flickered toward the hallway.
Seconds later, a maid came to the balcony.
"Sir… someone's here. She says it's urgent."
He frowned. "Who?"
The maid looked nervous. "Your… your ex-wife."
Zoha's blood ran cold.
Zafar walked into the living room slowly. There, standing like she owned the world, was a woman in a designer dress and blood-red lipstick.
Meher.
She smirked when she saw him.
"Still handsome," she said, voice sugary-sweet. "And still cold."
Zafar's jaw clenched. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Meher shrugged. "I came back to claim what's mine."
"You lost that right the moment you left Ezra in a hospital room and disappeared."
She laughed. "Don't be dramatic, Zafar. I gave you a son. Now I want my husband back."
Zoha, standing at the edge of the room, felt her stomach twist.
Meher's eyes landed on her. "Oh? And who is this?"
Zafar didn't hesitate. "She's none of your business."
But Meher smiled dangerously. "She works for me now. I bought her company last week."
Zoha's heart dropped.
"You what?" Zafar growled.
Meher walked toward Zoha. "So… you're the reason my ex is suddenly smiling again. Interesting."
Then she turned to Zafar. "I'm not leaving without a fight."
That night, Zafar stood alone in the dark living room, fists trembling.
He felt it happening again.
The past bleeding into the present.
But this time, someone innocent was caught in the crossfire.
Someone who meant too much.
Someone he could not afford to lose.