The next morning felt heavier than usual.
Areeba woke up early, even before her alarm rang. She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, remembering everything from the previous day—the shock, the tears, the unanswered calls, the message she had sent in the group.
"We will talk in college tomorrow."
Today was that tomorrow.
She got ready quietly. No overthinking. No dramatic thoughts. Just calm preparation.
But inside?
Her heart was rehearsing conversations.
---
When she entered the college campus, she saw them almost immediately.
Noor.
Safa.
Wisha.
Standing together near the stairs.
Waiting.
For her.
For a second, she considered turning around.
But she didn't.
She walked toward them.
Calmly.
Noor stepped forward first. "Areeba…"
Her voice was softer than usual.
Areeba stopped in front of them.
There was no anger in her eyes now.
Just seriousness.
Noor spoke quickly, as if she had been holding it in.
"I thought you already knew."
Areeba blinked. "Knew what?"
"About me and Mohid."
Silence.
Students walked past them, unaware of the weight standing between four friends.
"I thought you noticed," Noor continued. "You're always with me. I assumed you understood."
Areeba let out a small, dry laugh.
"If I knew," she said quietly, "I might not have followed you both everywhere… being a third wheel without knowing."
The words weren't loud.
But they landed.
Noor's face changed instantly. "You were never a third wheel."
"But I felt like one yesterday."
That honesty was not aggressive.
It was tired.
Safa gently added, "Areeba, we didn't mean to hide it from you."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
No one answered immediately.
Wisha looked down.
Noor swallowed. "It just… happened. And then it felt awkward to bring it up. And then time passed."
Time passed.
Areeba looked at them carefully.
Maybe she was overreacting.
Maybe.
But the past had made her sensitive in relationships.
Small cracks felt bigger to her.
Small silences felt louder.
She inhaled slowly.
"Maybe I overreacted," she said calmly. "Maybe it's small for you. But for me… it wasn't."
Her voice didn't shake this time.
It was steady.
"I don't care that you're in a relationship. It's your life. I don't want to control you. I don't want you to feel like I judge you or monitor you. You can do whatever you want."
She paused.
"I just want to know. That's all. I don't want to hear about your life from someone else. I don't want to stand there and find out I was the only one who didn't know."
Her eyes softened.
"We all have our own lives. I respect that. I just want honesty. Nothing else."
The tension slowly began to dissolve.
Noor stepped closer. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about it like that."
Safa nodded. "We really didn't mean to hurt you."
Areeba looked at them.
Then she did something unexpected.
She revealed a piece of herself.
Not fully.
But enough.
"There was someone before," she began quietly. "A friend. Because of her, I faced a lot. I even lost myself defending her. And she didn't care."
They listened carefully.
"I stopped getting close to anyone for almost two years after that. I built walls. You already know how I was before. Quiet. Uncomfortable. Guarded."
They did know.
They had seen that version of her.
"It took me years to calm myself down. Years to heal. And even now… the wounds are still inside."
Her voice became softer.
"Maybe you think I overreacted over a small thing. But for me, it was important. It took me years to become who I am today. I can't take another blow like that. I won't be able to handle it."
Her eyes glistened slightly, but she didn't let the tears fall.
"This is my last and sincere try in friendships. If I fail again… I might not be able to make friends ever again. Not in this life."
Silence wrapped around them.
No dramatic music.
No audience.
Just four girls standing in a college corridor, facing something real.
Noor's eyes were now wet.
"Areeba… we're not her."
"I know," Areeba replied gently. "And I don't want to compare you to her. I just wanted you to understand why it hurt."
Wisha spoke carefully. "What exactly happened with that friend?"
Areeba shook her head.
"I don't want to remember. It was the worst page of my life. I don't want to open it."
And that was final.
She didn't mention Isha's name.
She didn't explain details.
She just gave them the emotion.
That was enough.
"I'm going to the library," she added softly. "You guys attend class. I'll skip the first lecture."
Before they could stop her, she walked away.
---
The library was quiet.
She walked to the last corner.
The same corner where hardly anyone sat.
She placed her bag down.
And finally—
The tears came.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just silent streams falling down her cheeks.
She thought about Isha.
About defending someone who never defended her.
About standing alone while people whispered.
About losing herself trying to protect someone who didn't even look back.
"What if it happens again?" she whispered to herself.
What if she was always the one who cared more?
What if she was always the one who invested deeper?
What if sincerity always left her empty-handed?
The fear was bigger than the incident.
That was the truth.
She cried for a long time.
So long that she didn't even notice two familiar figures entering the library.
Aayan.
And his friend Mehran.
They had the same major subjects as her, so they often crossed paths.
They were not extremely close to her—but they respected her.
And they had seen her crying.
Aayan whispered something to Mehran.
They hesitated.
Then walked closer.
Areeba suddenly sensed movement.
She looked up.
And froze.
They had seen her.
Embarrassment flushed her face immediately.
She quickly wiped her tears and forced a small smile.
They stood at a respectful distance.
"Areeba," Aayan said gently, "can you come outside for a moment? We need to ask something."
She wasn't in the mood.
But she didn't want to create attention.
"You go. I'm coming," she said softly.
She took a deep breath.
Opened her phone.
Switched to the front camera.
Adjusted her hair.
Wiped under her eyes.
Tried to look normal.
Then stepped outside.
They were standing near the corridor wall.
"Sit first," Mehran said calmly.
All three sat on a bench.
Aayan handed her a water bottle.
She hadn't realized she was shivering slightly.
She drank.
Slowly.
The cold water helped.
"What happened?" Mehran asked gently.
"Did someone say something?" Aayan added. "If anyone bullied you—"
She quickly shook her head. "No. Nothing like that."
"Then why were you crying?"
She hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"Just remembered something from the past."
They didn't push further.
But concern was visible on their faces.
She felt embarrassed.
"I have a request," she said softly. "Please forget this moment. Please don't tell anyone. Not Safa. Not Noor. Not Wisha."
She paused.
"And especially not Inam. He'll tell them immediately."
They both smiled slightly.
"Alright," Aayan said. "We won't tell anyone."
"Promise?" she asked.
"Promise."
She thanked them quietly and finished the water.
"Let's go to class," Mehran said. "It's already started."
She nodded.
She couldn't avoid it forever.
They walked together toward the political science class.
They were ten minutes late.
For the first time ever.
The professor looked surprised.
"Areeba? Late?"
She stood at the door. "I apologize, ma'am. Something came up."
The professor observed her carefully.
"Is everything alright? Your eyes are red."
For a split second, her throat tightened.
"Something got into my eyes," she replied calmly. "That's all."
The professor nodded and allowed them in.
She sat down.
Focused.
Took notes.
Answered when asked.
As if nothing had happened.
After class, Noor approached her cautiously.
"What happened?"
"Nothing," Areeba replied lightly. "Something went into my eyes."
They didn't push further.
And she was grateful for that.
---
By the end of the day, everything seemed almost normal.
They attended classes together.
Walked home together.
Areeba's house was closer, so she reached first.
That evening, she wrote in her diary.
"I spoke today.
Without shouting.
Without blaming.
Without breaking.
Maybe that's growth."
She paused.
Then added:
"I'm still scared.
But I'm trying."
---
From that day onward, she consciously gave Noor and Mohid space.
Not dramatically.
Not coldly.
Just naturally.
She started spending more time with Safa and Wisha.
The dynamic shifted slightly.
But it didn't collapse.
One evening, she invited them home.
"I'll make noodles," she announced.
Safa cheered.
Wisha brought cold drinks.
Noor came too.
There was no awkwardness.
Just light teasing.
Laughter.
Stories.
Mili returned from college and joined them.
She was Areeba's senior and lived with her.
Mili adored Safa.
"She's so cute," Mili whispered once.
"And kind," Areeba smiled.
They all sat on the floor.
Plates of noodles.
Cold drinks opened.
Music playing softly.
For a moment—
Everything felt simple.
Normal.
Peaceful.
Maybe healing didn't mean never getting hurt again.
Maybe it meant surviving hurt without losing yourself.
That night, as her friends left and silence filled the house again, Areeba stood near the window.
She wasn't completely fearless.
She wasn't completely healed.
But she was trying.
And sometimes—
Trying is the bravest thing a person can do.