Two weeks.
That's how long it took for his mother to come.
Two weeks of silence.
Two weeks of pretending.
Two weeks of being someone in his life… but not the one I was supposed to be.
I was sitting beside his bed when the door opened.
I didn't think much of it at first.
Until I looked up.
And saw her.
Mrs. Kareem.
Elegant. Composed. Untouchable.
The same way she had always been.
The same way she looked at me—
Like I wasn't enough.
Her eyes landed on me first.
And just like that, the air changed.
Cold.
Sharp.
Unwelcoming.
"So," she said, her voice calm but cutting. "You're still here."
Not hello.
Not how are you.
Just that.
I stood up slowly, my fingers tightening at my sides. "I came to see him."
"You've seen him enough."
The words were quiet.
But they landed heavy.
Before I could respond—
"Mom?"
Zayn's voice cut in.
We both turned.
He was watching her now.
And unlike the way he looked at me—
There was recognition.
Clear.
Immediate.
Relief softened her expression instantly as she moved toward him.
"Zayn," she said, her voice changing completely. Softer. Warmer. "You're awake."
"I am," he replied.
Something in my chest tightened.
He remembered her.
Of course he did.
She reached for his face gently, her fingers brushing against his cheek like she needed to be sure he was real.
"You had us all worried," she murmured.
"I'm fine."
Her eyes scanned him carefully, like she didn't fully believe that.
Then—
"I brought someone with me," she said.
My heart dropped.
I already knew.
Before she even stepped in.
Before I even saw her.
I knew.
Lina walked in like she belonged there.
Like this wasn't new.
Like this wasn't painful.
Her eyes found him instantly.
And this time—
There was no hesitation.
No confusion.
No distance.
"Zayn," she said softly.
And just like that—
He smiled.
It wasn't big.
It wasn't dramatic.
But it was there.
Real.
Effortless.
"Lina."
My chest tightened so sharply it almost hurt to breathe.
He remembered her.
Again.
Easily.
Like she had never left his mind.
She moved closer to him, stopping just beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he said.
His tone was different with her.
Lighter.
Familiar.
Like talking to her didn't require effort.
Like it came naturally.
I took a small step back.
No one noticed.
Or maybe they did—
And just didn't care.
Mrs. Kareem's gaze shifted to me again.
Cold.
Deliberate.
"This isn't necessary," she said.
I frowned slightly. "What isn't?"
"You being here."
The room went quiet.
Zayn looked between us, a slight crease forming between his brows.
"Mom—"
"She's not family," she continued, her voice calm, controlled. "She has no reason to be involved in this."
That hit.
Harder than I expected.
Because technically—
She was right.
At least, from his perspective.
I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I'm just helping."
"Helping with what?" she asked.
Before I could answer—
"With me," Zayn said.
All three of us turned to him.
His gaze was on his mother now.
Firm.
"She's been here since I woke up," he added.
Something flickered in Mrs. Kareem's eyes.
Not approval.
Never that.
But something close to… restraint.
"She won't need to be anymore," she replied.
Lina placed a gentle hand on his arm.
"I can stay with you," she said softly.
My chest tightened again.
Of course she could.
Of course she would.
And this time—
Zayn didn't pull away.
Didn't question it.
He just looked at her.
Like it made sense.
Like she made sense.
Unlike me.
I stepped back again.
Closer to the door.
This time, Zayn noticed.
His gaze shifted to me.
"Samirah."
My name felt different in his mouth now.
Lighter.
Less important.
"Yes?" I said.
A pause.
Like he didn't know what to say.
Like he wasn't sure why he had called me.
Then—
"Will you come tomorrow?"
The question caught me off guard.
Because everything else in that room said I shouldn't.
That I didn't belong.
That I had already been replaced.
I looked at him.
Really looked at him.
At the man who once chose me.
The man who now remembered someone else.
Standing right in front of him.
Waiting.
I forced a small smile.
Careful.
Controlled.
"Only if you need me," I said.
Lina's hand was still on his arm.
His mother was watching me.
Waiting.
Judging.
Zayn held my gaze for a second longer.
Then—
"I do."
My heart betrayed me.
Again.
But I nodded anyway.
"Okay."
And this time—
When I walked out—
I felt it.
Clearer than before.
I wasn't losing him because of his memory.
I was losing him because everyone around him…
Remembered the wrong version of his life.
And they were making sure—
He believed it too.