I stood outside his door longer than I should have.
Again.
It was starting to become a habit.
Like if I delayed it long enough, I wouldn't have to face the way he looked at me now.
Like a stranger.
I wiped my face one last time, making sure there were no traces left of earlier.
No weakness.
No tears.
Then I opened the door.
He looked up immediately.
Like he'd been expecting me.
"You came back," he said.
Something in my chest softened.
Just a little.
"Yes."
I closed the door behind me and stepped inside, more careful this time. More aware.
Of him.
Of me.
Of everything that had changed.
He watched me as I moved, his gaze steady, almost curious.
Like he was trying to figure me out.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
I blinked. "What?"
"You were crying earlier."
My heart skipped.
Of course he noticed.
I looked away, pretending to adjust my sleeve. "I'm fine."
A pause.
"I don't think you are."
His voice wasn't pushy.
Just… certain.
And that made it worse.
"Why do you care?" I asked quietly.
I didn't mean for it to sound like that.
But it did.
Sharp.
Guarded.
Honest.
He didn't react immediately.
Just studied me again.
That same look.
Too observant.
Too familiar.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just… don't like seeing you like that."
My chest tightened.
Because that—
That was him.
That was my Zayn.
Even if he didn't know it.
I forced a small breath. "You don't even know me."
"true," he said.
Simple.
Direct.
Like it wasn't a complicated thing.
Like we hadn't already known everything about each other once.
I hesitated.
Because the doctor's words echoed in my head.
Let him relearn you.
Slowly.
Naturally.
"Okay," I said finally.
The word felt bigger than it should have.
I moved closer and sat down beside the bed, leaving a small space between us.
If he noticed the distance.
I couldn't tell.
But he didn't say anything about it.
Instead—
"Tell me something about you," he said.
My heart skipped.
Something about me?
Where was I even supposed to start?
I'm your wife.
You proposed to me in the rain.
You hate coffee but drink it anyway when you're stressed.
I swallowed.
"I work in finance," I said instead.
Neutral.
His lips tilted slightly. "That sounds serious."
"It is."
"You don't look serious."
I frowned slightly. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said, leaning back a little, "you look like someone who overthinks everything… but pretends she doesn't."
My breath caught.
That was—
Too accurate.
I looked at him carefully. "And you figured that out in five minutes?"
He shrugged slightly. "You're easy to read."
I almost laughed.
If only he knew.
"You're wrong," I said.
"I don't think I am."
Silence stretched between us again.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… filled with things neither of us were saying.
Then his gaze dropped.
To my hand.
Again.
Always the ring.
"You're married," he said.
Not a question this time.
A statement.
"Yes."
The word felt heavier now.
"Is he coming?" he asked.
My chest tightened.
"He's already here," I wanted to say.
Instead—
"No."
His jaw shifted slightly.
Something unreadable passing through his expression.
"Why not?"
I hesitated.
Careful.
"Work," I said.
A lie.
A weak one.
But he didn't call it out.
He just nodded slowly.
Like he was accepting it.
Even if he didn't fully believe it.
"That's… unfortunate," he muttered.
I blinked. "Why?"
His gaze lifted back to mine.
And for a moment—
Something in it felt different.
Darker.
More intense.
"Because you shouldn't be here alone."
My heart stuttered.
"I'm not alone," I said quickly.
"You are," he replied.
Too quick.
Too sure.
I stood up before it could settle too deeply.
"I should go," I said.
His expression changed instantly.
Not dramatic.
But enough.
"Already?"
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Like he didn't mean to say it.
Like he didn't mean to care.
I paused.
Because that—
That mattered more than it should have.
"You just got here," he added, quieter now.
I turned back to him slowly.
"You want me to stay?"
The question felt heavier than it sounded.
He didn't hesitate this time.
"Yes."
My heart betrayed me immediately.
Fast.
Unsteady.
Hopeful.
I shouldn't.
I knew I shouldn't.
But my feet didn't move.
Instead, I sat back down.
Closer this time.
Not too close.
But closer than before.
His gaze followed the movement.
Noticing.
Always noticing.
"Thank you," he said.
Soft.
Almost like it meant something.
I looked down at my hands, trying to steady myself.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
I wasn't supposed to fall into this again.
Not when he didn't even remember me.
Not when I was just—
A stranger.
"Samirah," he said after a moment.
I looked up.
"Yes?"
He held my gaze.
Longer this time.
Like he was trying to understand something.
"Why do I feel like losing you would be a mistake?"
My breath caught.
Completely.
Because that—
That wasn't normal.
That wasn't something you say to someone you just met.
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
Because I was afraid if I spoke—
Everything would come out.
The truth.
The past.
All of it.
So I stayed quiet.
And he didn't push.
He just watched me.
Like he was waiting.
Like part of him already knew—
And just needed me to say it.
But I didn't.
I couldn't.
Not yet.
And as I sat there, caught between who we used to be and who we were now—
I realized something that made my chest ache.
He didn't remember loving me.
But something in him…
Hadn't forgotten how.