They said the past stays buried—but Zayn Hashmi knew better. Meher's birthday was meant to be ordinary, until a familiar stranger walked in. One look, one smile, and everything he thought was buried began to resurface.
***
Meher's eyes sparkled as she saw him.
"Ohh, Danish!" she gasped, her face lighting up like the room had shifted into warmth.
Danish walked in with ease and confidence, pulling her into a light hug.
"Happy birthday, Miss Meher Khan," he said with a grin.
Meher stepped back, arms crossed in mock disapproval.
"Thanks. By the way—you're late."
Danish laughed. "So, are you going to scold me for that, huh?"
"I wanted to!" she replied, laughing with him, the moment soft and familiar.
But across the hall, time felt like it had slowed for two others.
Zayn Hashmi's gaze had locked onto the man entering the party. His posture tensed subtly, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Beside him, Faqair went still.
It wasn't just surprise. It was recognition.
He remembered that day vividly—Zayn confronting him with the photo.
"That's Danish."
Faqair had shaken his head. "No. It's not him. He died when we were teenagers."
But Zayn had spoken with unnerving certainty. "He's alive. I got information about him. But why is he showing up again in my life? Is something else about to happen?"
Now, that question hung in the air between them, real and present.
"Sir…" Faqair whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "I don't have a good feeling... I don't know why."
Zayn didn't look away from Danish. "Take a deep breath. Act like a professional. Pretend you've never seen him before."
"I can't—"
"You have to." Zayn's voice was steel. His gaze didn't waver. "Now."Just then, Meher clapped excitedly.
"Okay! Let me introduce you to my best friend."
Danish grinned, playing along. "Oh, I'm willing! Who is he or she?"
Meher motioned to her left, where a girl stood quietly.
"This is my best best friend—Inaya."
Inaya gave a small, shy wave. "Hello…"
Danish smiled warmly. "Heyy, nice to meet you."
Inaya nodded. "Me too."
Then Meher turned, her voice bubbling with pride.
"And meet him—Mr. Zayn Hashmi. And this is Mr. Faqair Khan—Mr. Zayn's secretary. And this," she said, placing a hand on Danish's arm, "is Danish Qadri. He's my friend."
Danish turned to Zayn.
And it was only then—only then—that their eyes met.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause. No movement, no noise—just the sharp click of recognition between two men with too much unspoken between them.
Danish smiled.
It wasn't the same smile he had given Meher or Inaya. This one was slower… knowing. Measured. It held weight. History.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Zayn Hashmi," Danish said, extending a hand.
Zayn's eyes didn't blink. He stepped forward, offering a handshake that was as calm as it was cold.
"Really nice to meet you too, Mr. Danish Qadri."
The handshake was brief, but in that silent exchange, something had passed. Like an ancient thread pulling tight again.
Then—darkness.
The lights snapped off. A collective gasp swept through the room. Murmurs, confusion, footsteps.
And then—a single spotlight burst to life, casting its glow directly on Meher.She stood frozen, stunned, completely unaware of what was happening or why.
Out of the shadows, a girl appeared—silent, precise—and handed a microphone to Inaya.
All eyes turned.
Something was about to begin.
And not everyone in the room was ready for it.
To be continued...
He came with a smile and left behind questions no one was ready to ask. As the night carried on—music playing, voices rising—somewhere beneath the surface, old truths stirred. And in the quiet between glances and half-spoken words, a story long buried began to breathe again.
[Relising date 31/08/25]
"Life's beauty is found in the moments we never see coming." Thank you for reading and sharing this story with me. Stay happy, stay hopeful, and take good care of yourself. Until we meet again— — Galaxy's eyes