Chapter Twenty-Five: Shadows in the Light
649 Words
Zara’s POV
Zara had never been a woman who doubted herself.
She was raised to believe that if something was meant to be hers, it would be. And if it wasn’t, she would make it hers. After all, hadn’t her father said that Rehaan was her destiny? Hadn’t she grown up hearing how their families were woven together like stories in the same book?
So what if Rehaan seemed... distracted lately?
People get busy. He was a man of logic, always measured and calm. He wasn’t the type to swoon or flatter. She had told herself all of this — repeatedly — every time he dodged her calls, took hours to reply, or answered in half-hearted sentences.
But Saturday night changed everything.
It wasn’t the first time she noticed him online at odd hours. But this time, something felt different.
She was up late working on a presentation for her boutique's new collection, and out of habit — or rather, obsession — she clicked on Rehaan’s chat.
"Online."
At 2:47 AM.
Her eyes narrowed.
What the hell are you doing awake, Rehaan?
She opened his profile. Still online. For almost an hour. That wasn’t emails or work. That was someone.
She stared at the screen for a long minute, heart hammering. And then it happened.
Earlier in the day, he had sent her a voice note. She hadn't opened it till now.
She clicked play.
And in the first few seconds, she heard him say — softly, distractedly:
“Hmm? Pakh— I mean… Zara.”
She froze.
Her blood went cold.
Pakhi.
It wasn’t a common name. Not a mistake one made casually. He didn’t know many women. She knew that for a fact. She had been watching his life too closely for too long.
And now she had a name.
Pakhi.
The realization was a sting — hot and sharp.
He was thinking about another woman. While talking to me.
Zara’s mind spiraled. How close was she to him? And more importantly — how long had it been going on?
Thinking all this scenarios, bile rising in her throat.
So this is the woman taking my place?
She felt something twist inside her — not heartbreak, but rage.
Not sadness, but threat.
The next day, Rehaan messaged her, a plain "Hope you’re doing well."
Zara stared at it blankly.
Is that guilt? she wondered. Are you trying to act normal now?
She didn’t reply.
Instead, she picked up her phone and called him. He didn’t answer.
She called again. Still no answer.
Her hands trembled. Not with fear — but frustration. Her pride, which she’d protected for so long, was unraveling thread by thread.
By Monday, Zara had started crafting a narrative in her mind.
This wasn’t a simple crush. Rehaan was being emotionally manipulated by this girl. That had to be it. He was loyal. He just didn’t realize how deep he was falling.
And she — Pakhi — was the problem.
Zara sat in front of her vanity that night, brushing her hair slowly, her reflection calm, composed, but her eyes… wild.
She imagined Rehaan whispering sweet nothings into someone else's ears. She imagined him calling her “jaan,” the way he once used to call her. Maybe even using the same nicknames. Repeating his charm like it was nothing more than a script.
Her stomach churned.
She grabbed her phone again.
Online. 12:14 AM.
Again.
She clenched her jaw. Her fingernails dug into her palm.
He thinks he can love someone else while keeping me on hold?
No. No, she wouldn’t let that happen.
This wasn’t a love story. This was a promise. Their families were connected. Their futures aligned. He belonged with her — she had been told that since they were kids.
And now?
Now he was slipping through her fingers.
But she would not lose.
- Writer
