Fractured Promises

Chapter 14: Silent Devotion

ZAIN

Zain had learned long ago that love didn’t always come in grand declarations. Sometimes, it was quiet. Steady. Unspoken. Sometimes, it was a lifelong promise kept in silence.

From the moment he collided with Lily on the school field, tackling her to the ground by mistake, something shifted inside him. The guilt of that moment turned into curiosity, and curiosity into friendship. But friendship wasn’t all it became. Not for him. Not ever.

Lily was fire and strength, a girl who carried the world on her shoulders and still found the courage to dream. She fought for her place, for her family, for a future that seemed always just out of reach. And Zain—he couldn’t help but be drawn to her light.

But he never told her. Because Lily was already carrying too much. And he refused to be another weight pressing down on her. So, he stood at her side, a shield against the world, hiding his feelings beneath laughter and unwavering support.

*Flashback

*A Bond Beyond Words

Zain's first visit to Lily's home came with a mixture of curiosity and care.

She had hesitated, almost embarrassed to invite him into her modest two-bedroom apartment. But he had shown up with his usual easy smile, stepping inside and looking around with genuine interest.

"I like it here," he said, his gaze landing on the mismatched cushions and the faded but lovingly kept curtains. "Feels warm. Like a home that remembers stories."

Lily’s cheeks flushed, her nerves dissolving at his words. He didn’t see the peeling wallpaper or the second-hand furniture. He saw memories, laughter, and resilience.

Over the next two years, Zain became a quiet presence in her life, not just as a friend but as an unseen support. Subtly, he began to ease their burdens. A bag of groceries here, an old but well-maintained piece of furniture there. Always under the guise of coincidence.

"Mum's redecorating again," he’d say with a grin, dropping off a box of kitchenware. "She’s got this habit of giving things away. If we don't take it, it ends up in storage."

Lily had resisted at first, pride battling against need. "Zain, I can't—"

"You're not a charity case," he’d interrupt gently. "And it's not charity. My mum just hates clutter. You'd be doing us a favour."

One Saturday, Zain found himself raiding his mother's pantry looking for extra supplies. Bags of rice, canned goods, anything he could spare. As he shoved things into a tote bag, his mother appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrow arched.

"And what exactly are you doing, young man?" she asked.

Caught, Zain stammered, but his mother's sharp eyes softened as he explained. About Lily. About her family. About the struggles he’d seen but never spoken of.

She listened, silent and thoughtful. When he finished, she reached out, brushing his hair from his forehead in that motherly way that always calmed him.

"You're a good boy," she said, her voice low. "And you're in love."

Zain's ears burned. "No, Mum. We’re just friends. Best friends. Nothing more."

She chuckled, soft and knowing. "If you say so. But love doesn't always come loud. Sometimes it's quiet. Sometimes, it's in the way you make sure she's okay."

He didn't argue. Couldn't. Not when the truth sat so heavily on his chest.

"I'll talk to the chef," his mother said, stepping back. "We'll prepare extra portions. And next time, don't sneak. Just ask."

Zain nodded, relieved, but still flustered. He kissed her cheek, murmuring a thank you. But as he walked away, her words echoed in his mind.

Love doesn't always come loud.

And maybe, just maybe, she was right.

---

When Ruth’s health began to decline, Zain saw the cracks forming in Lily’s armour. The worry in her eyes, the exhaustion that pulled at her features. He saw her fighting, struggling, determined to hold everything together even when it was tearing her apart.

And he knew he couldn’t let her fall.

Every weekend, he showed up. No invitation, no request. Just a constant presence. He watched the younger siblings, helped with homework, cooked meals, kept the house steady while Lily poured over textbooks and fought to hold onto her future. When her brother came home with bruises and tears, Zain was there. Silent, steady, offering comfort with his presence when words felt empty.

He saw the way Lily cried with her brother, the quiet strength she wore like armour crumbling when the doors closed, and no one could see her pain. He wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone. That she had him. That she always would.

But he didn’t.

Because love, for him, wasn’t about confessions. It was about action. About sacrifice. About standing in the shadows if it meant she could shine.

He saw the way Stanley looked at her, the way Lily’s eyes softened when Stanley walked into a room. He saw it and swallowed the ache that rose like a wave in his chest.

It wasn’t his place. It never had been.

So, he stayed. Helping. Watching. Loving her quietly.

And when Lily said she needed space, Zain felt a storm building. He wanted to tell her that Stanley wasn’t who she thought. That there were shadows lurking in that relationship. But he stayed silent. Because it wasn’t his truth to tell.

It was hers to discover.

But he'd be there, no matter how long it took. Waiting. Watching. Loving.

Because for Zain, love was sacrifice. And Lily was worth it all.