My Best Friend's Girlfriend

Chapter 9

The following morning, I woke up to the sound of rain pattering against the window. The grey sky cast a muted light over Hassam’s apartment, turning the living room into a shadowy blur. I glanced at my phone—barely 7 a.m. I could hear the quiet murmur of voices in the kitchen, so I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Ali, who was still fast asleep on the couch.

As I made my way down the hallway, I saw Hassam and Vei sitting together at the kitchen table. Vei was pouring tea into two cups, her fingers moving with a graceful precision. Hassam’s expression was softer than I’d seen in days, but there was an undercurrent of tension that hadn’t left his eyes since that night.

I hesitated in the doorway, wondering if I should give them a moment alone, but then Vei caught sight of me and waved me over with a smile. “Good morning, Waqas! Come join us for breakfast.”

I forced a smile, taking a seat beside them. “Morning. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

Hassam shook his head, his voice quieter than usual. “No, it’s fine. We were just talking about the places Vei wants to show us today, but it looks like the rain might change our plans.”

I glanced outside at the downpour, a sense of relief washing over me. Maybe a quiet day indoors would give us a chance to breathe, to talk things through without the distractions of sightseeing. “Looks like a good day to stay in and relax.”

Vei nodded, wrapping her hands around her cup of tea. “I actually think it’s kind of nice. We don’t get rain like this in my hometown—it makes everything feel a little more peaceful.” She turned to Hassam, her smile turning wistful. “Maybe we could use the time to talk more, you know? About... things we haven’t had a chance to discuss yet.”

Hassam froze, his cup halfway to his lips. I felt my heart lurch in my chest, and I could tell from the way he tensed that he understood what she meant—understood that she was starting to sense the distance between them, even if she couldn’t yet put her finger on why.

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure. We can talk.”

But as he said the words, I could see the fear lurking behind his eyes. And for the first time, I realized that maybe he wasn’t just afraid of losing her—he was afraid of what would happen to him if she walked away.

The day dragged on slowly, with rain pelting the windows and the sound of distant thunder rumbling through the apartment. Vei kept trying to lift everyone’s spirits, pulling out board games, chatting about her favorite books, even teaching us a few phrases in Mandarin. But I could see the worry lines deepening on her forehead, the way her gaze kept flicking to Hassam whenever she thought he wasn’t looking.

By the time evening rolled around, we were all gathered in the living room, a half-finished game of Monopoly sprawled across the coffee table. Ali and Shahwath were arguing over a property trade, and Vei was curled up on the couch beside Hassam, her head resting on his shoulder. She looked up at him with a gentle smile, but he kept his gaze fixed on the window, where the rain had turned into a steady drizzle.

“So,” she said softly, breaking the silence between them, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Hassam’s body went rigid, and I saw the flash of panic cross his face. He turned to her slowly, his voice carefully controlled. “What is it?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “It’s just... ever since your friends arrived, I’ve felt like there’s something you’re not telling me. Like there’s this... distance between us that wasn’t there before.”

The room went dead quiet. Even Ali and Shahwath stopped bickering, turning their attention to Vei’s words. I felt my stomach twist into knots, and I could see the same unease mirrored in Ali’s eyes.

Hassam swallowed hard, his hand tightening around hers. “Vei, I—”

She cut him off, her voice soft but insistent. “I don’t want to pressure you, but if there’s something on your mind, I want you to know you can trust me. I don’t need to know every detail of your past, but... I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Her sincerity hit me like a punch to the gut, and I saw Hassam’s expression c***k, the mask he’d been wearing slipping just enough for the hurt to show through. He turned away from her, rubbing a hand over his face. For a moment, I thought he might actually tell her—might finally confess the secret that had been eating him alive.

But then he shook his head, forcing a strained smile as he turned back to her. “It’s nothing, Vei. Really. I’ve just been... a little stressed, I guess. But it’s not your fault.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief, but there was still a shadow of doubt in her eyes. “Okay. I’ll believe you... for now. But if there’s ever something you need to get off your chest, promise me you’ll come to me first.”

“I promise,” Hassam murmured, his voice barely audible. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes, leaning into him. But as he held her close, his gaze met mine across the room, and I saw the turmoil churning just beneath the surface.

I knew that he hadn’t told her the whole truth, that he was still trying to protect her from whatever he was hiding. But I also knew that the longer he kept it buried, the more it was tearing him apart.

That night, after Vei had gone to bed, the three of us gathered in the living room again. The air was thick with the unspoken words hanging between us, and even Ali, who usually had something to lighten the mood, looked weighed down by the tension.

Shahwath was the first to break the silence, his voice low and rough. “She knows, Hassam. Maybe not the whole story, but she knows something’s off.”

Hassam ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “I know, okay? I know. But what am I supposed to do? Just... lay everything out on the table and hope she doesn’t hate me?”

Ali sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “We’re not saying it’s easy, man. We’re just saying that keeping it from her might hurt even more in the long run.”

Hassam’s face twisted with frustration, and he turned away, pacing across the room. “You think I haven’t thought about that? I think about it every damn day. But I can’t—” He stopped himself, his voice breaking. “I can’t lose her, Waqas.”

His words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for a moment, I felt a pang of sympathy so deep it nearly knocked me off balance. Hassam, always the one with the charm and the confidence, was terrified—terrified of losing the one person who made him feel like he could be something more than the sum of his mistakes.

I took a step closer, my voice gentle. “She’s not going to hate you, Hassam. But she deserves to know who you are—who you really are. You owe her that much.”

He turned to me, and I saw the fear in his eyes—fear of losing her, but also fear of facing whatever he’d been running from all these years. He swallowed hard, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m ready, Waqas.”

I nodded slowly, even though it hurt to see him like this. “I know. But when you are, we’ll be here for you.”

For a long moment, he just stared at me, like he was trying to hold onto my words, to find some kind of strength in them. Then he nodded, his shoulders sagging with the weight of the decision he still wasn’t ready to make.

“I’ll... think about it,” he said finally. And even though it wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for, it was a step—however small—toward the truth that was waiting to be told.