Zoha didn't sleep that night.
Not because of fear. But because of doubt.
Doubt that maybe she'd stepped into something too dangerous. Something too deep.
Zafar had stayed silent after Meher's visit. Not a word. Not a message. Not even a look of reassurance.
And now…
Now she had to walk into a company she no longer recognized.
Because Meher Iqbal wasn't just back in Zafar's life—she was now the owner of Zoha's career.
The morning felt different.
Colder.
She walked into the office, and for the first time, no one smiled at her.
The receptionist who used to greet her didn't look up. The HR manager, who once praised her for being hardworking, avoided eye contact.
And then Meher arrived.
In heels sharp enough to pierce skin.
"Zoha," she said sweetly. "My office. Now."
Zoha followed, her spine straight even as her hands trembled.
Meher shut the door behind her and smiled cruelly. "Let's talk about boundaries."
"Excuse me?"
"I know what's going on between you and Zafar," Meher said, circling her like a hawk. "But this is a professional space. So, either you learn to act like a secretary—or you'll be replaced."
Zoha's voice was calm, but her eyes were steel. "You can insult me all you want. But I won't let you ruin the one thing I've built by myself."
Meher smirked. "We'll see."
That evening, Zoha found herself crying in the office washroom. Quietly. Carefully.
Not because Meher scared her.
But because Zafar hadn't said a single word in her defense.
Where was he?
Why was he letting this happen?
She wiped her tears, fixed her lipstick, and walked out like she hadn't broken inside.
But the ache stayed.
Zafar watched her from his office.
He saw the tired eyes, the forced smiles, the way her shoulders carried the weight of unspoken pain.
And it tore at him.
But he didn't act.
Why?
Because the moment he claimed her in front of Meher… she'd become a target.
She'd suffer worse than cruel words.
And Zafar knew how deep Meher's poison ran.
So, he stayed silent.
And Zoha? She stayed strong.
But both were breaking.
In different ways.
Later that night, Zoha stood outside the building, rain pouring on her like the sky's own heartbreak.
Zafar's car pulled up.
He stepped out, holding an umbrella.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them screamed louder than words ever could.
"I thought you'd say something," she whispered.
"I wanted to."
"Then why didn't you?"
His voice cracked. "Because loving you in the open… might destroy you."
Her tears blended with the rain. "Then what's the point of loving me at all?"
He stepped closer, his hand trembling as it cupped her wet cheek.
"I'm trying to protect you, Zoha. But maybe… I'm just making it worse."