I could feel it before he even spoke. Khalid's gaze lingered longer than usual, sharper than polite interest. There was something different today—a subtle weight in the air, the kind that makes your chest tighten without explanation.
I tried to act normal, pouring tea and responding to his questions with the same calm politeness I always used. But the distance he sensed—I couldn't hide it.
"You've been… quieter lately," he said at last. The words were almost casual, but the way he said them made my stomach twist. Not a question. An observation. A warning.
"I'm just busy," I replied, forcing a small smile. Too small.
He didn't say anything after that, only watched me in silence, and I realized that sometimes, silence is sharper than words.
Later, I met Fahad at the little café we frequented. The city outside buzzed, indifferent to our quiet tension. I sat across from him, feeling my hands curl around the cup, trying to steady myself. Today, I had to face the truth I'd been running from.
"I… I need to talk to you," I said finally, my voice low. My heart pounded so loudly, I was certain he could hear it.
He looked up, calm as always, eyes searching mine. "About what?"
I took a shaky breath. "I… I can't keep pretending. About… everything."
He didn't respond immediately. He just waited, as if he already knew what I would say but wanted me to say it anyway.
"I—I care about you," I confessed, the words almost catching in my throat. "More than I should. More than I have the right to."
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Fahad's expression softened, but there was a flicker of hesitation, careful restraint.
"Ria…" he began, and I saw the weight in his eyes, the understanding that our lives were tangled in ways that were complicated, unavoidable.
"I can't do this anymore," I continued. "I can't pretend I'm… fine with everything. Not when everything feels like it's being decided for me. Not when… when I'm pretending I don't care about you."
He reached across the table, brushing a hand lightly over mine—not possessively, not demanding, just grounding.
"Then we figure this out," he said softly. "We don't have to pretend. But we also… we have to be careful."
I nodded, feeling the tension inside me ease just a little. But I knew this was only the beginning. Khalid had noticed. Lex might notice. And my own heart… my own heart was no longer something I could ignore.