Syria felt as though her feet barely touched the ground as she rushed to Anaya's house the next morning. Her face glowed in a way Anaya had never seen before — the soft pink of someone who has finally touched a dream. Syria's eyes sparkled with a joy that could not be contained.
And the moment she reached Anaya's room, she threw herself on the bed and said breathlessly,
"Anaya… he said it. Ali said he loves me too."
Anaya stared at her for a heartbeat and then broke into a wide smile. She pulled Syria into a tight embrace, almost lifting her from the bed.
"I knew it," Anaya whispered. "I knew he felt something for you."
Syria buried her face in her best friend's shoulder, smiling through shy tears. That was the thing about Anaya — she always made Syria feel understood, safe, comforted.
But somewhere inside Anaya's eyes that day, behind the happiness she expressed for Syria… a tiny shadow flickered.
A shadow even she didn't fully understand yet.
Anaya's Secret
For months, there had been a part of Anaya's life she kept locked away from Syria — a part she never shared, not even in small hints. The man named Kamil.
A man older than her.
A man she thought she loved.
A man with a voice like silk and a gaze that could freeze or burn depending on what he wanted.
Anaya had been with him for almost a year.
Syria had no idea.
Not because Anaya didn't trust her, but because Kamil insisted she keep it secret.
"People don't understand love like ours."
"That girl Syria talks too much."
"Let this be between us."
And Anaya, blinded by the intoxicating warmth he gave her, believed him.
Even now, while Syria sat on the bed talking about Ali and dreams and plans, Anaya felt something cold twist in her stomach.
Fear.
Desire.
Jealousy.
Confusion.
Most of all — the dangerous desperation of a girl who would do anything for the man she loved.
Kamil had become her weakness.
Her everything.
And he had noticed Syria long before Anaya ever mentioned it.
Kamil's Game
Kamil was a man who loved control.
And when Anaya spoke of Syria — innocent, emotional, soft-hearted Syria — he saw an opportunity.
He started asking questions softly, carefully.
"How close are you two?"
"Is she naive?"
"Does she trust easily?"
And Anaya, believing he was only curious, responded honestly.
Kamil smiled to himself.
Syria was perfect.
A dice on the board he could roll whenever he wanted.
But Anaya didn't know this.
She didn't know she had already put Syria unknowingly into the hands of a man who never loved anyone cleanly.
And Syria?
She trusted Anaya blindly.
Too blindly.
A Friendship Begins to Tilt
It happened slowly.
At first, Anaya listened to Syria's stories about Ali with genuine excitement — the late-night calls, the way his voice softened when he said her name, how they fell asleep smiling.
But as the days passed, something inside Anaya began to ache.
Kamil never spoke to her like Ali spoke to Syria.
Kamil never waited for her messages.
Kamil never called her "mine" or "darling" with the kind of warmth that Ali used so naturally.
Love should have felt magical.
But her love was sharp-edged, hungry, restless — never gentle.
And watching Syria bloom felt like watching someone hold in their hands the very thing she had been starving for.
Even then, she tried to push the envy down.
She wanted to be a good friend.
She wanted to be happy for Syria.
But Kamil's voice echoed in her ears whenever she smiled too much at Syria's happiness.
"Don't forget who you belong to, Anaya."
"Don't let that girl think she's better than you."
"She has someone now… what do you have?"
The poison grew.
Without Anaya noticing it.
And without Syria sensing it.
This was how the first crack between them began — invisible, but deadly.
Syria's Support
One evening, when the sun dipped low and the sky glowed orange, Anaya finally told Syria a part of her secret.
"There's someone…" she whispered, gripping the end of her dupatta tightly.
Syria's eyes widened, sparkling with excitement.
"Who!? Tell me tell me! Do I know him? Are you two serious?"
Anaya blushed, and something fragile flickered across her face.
"Kamil," she said softly.
Syria's face softened with immediate acceptance. "Then I'm with you. I support you. Just… please be careful."
She didn't warn her harshly.
She didn't judge her.
She didn't question her choices.
Syria simply supported her.
Like a true friend.
But the story didn't end there.
Kamil's influence was growing darker by the day.
And Anaya had no idea how deeply he intended to involve Syria.
Ali and Syria — Planning Their First Meet
While hidden tensions spread quietly between Anaya and Syria, something beautiful blossomed on the other side of Syria's life.
Ali and Syria had begun planning their first meeting.
Ali was glowing in a way his family couldn't explain. He smiled at walls, laughed at nothing, hummed on the staircase. His brothers teased him mercilessly, but he didn't care.
He felt alive — as if someone had lit a lantern inside his ribcage.
Every night he sent Syria long messages describing what he imagined their first meeting would be like.
"I want to give you something special."
"I already bought your present."
"Don't laugh… but I chose rings. For us."
Syria blushed so hard she buried her face in her pillow. He had chosen rings. Rings. Something symbolic. Something intimate. Something beautiful.
But she had no idea what to give Ali.
"What can I hide from my family?"
"What will he like?"
"What if I choose wrong?"
"What if they find the gift and I get caught?"
Her anxiety grew quietly, shadowing her excitement.
But Ali?
Ali was fearless in his love now.
He counted days.
He dreamed of her smile.
He imagined her eyes shining when he slipped the ring on her finger for the first time.
They planned everything.
Where they would meet.
What time.
What they would wear.
What they would say.
How long they could stay together.
November — the month they decided.
The month their relationship would take its first breath in the real world.
The month Syria believed would be the beginning of her forever.
But she didn't see what was happening behind her.
The shifting jealousy.
The dangerous game.
The way Kamil watched her from behind Anaya's words.
The way Anaya's heart had begun to twist.
And Ali?
Ali didn't know that the first argument of their love story would not come from family or fate…
…but from the very friend Syria trusted the most.
The girl who was supposed to protect her.
The girl who loved her.
The girl who, unknowingly, was guiding them straight toward the storm.
Everything was beautiful.
Everything was perfect.
But November was coming.
And with it — the first shadow over their fragile new love.