Fateh ran his hand through his hair and said, "Maybe you killed them?"
Mehr laughed in disbelief, pointing at herself. "I told you—me? Kill my parents? Are you conscious, lawyer?"
"Yes, I'm conscious," the lawyer replied calmly. "But I have a doubt, even if I'm wrong."
"Yes, you are wrong. You have to be wrong," Fateh snapped. The tension in the room grew.
One of the lawyers interjected, "We're not here for this. We came to hand over Mehr Sultan's inheritance. Let's do that and leave."
The second lawyer agreed, but the persistent lawyer kept staring at Mehr, provoking Fateh further.
"What is your problem? What do you want from us?" Fateh shouted.
The lawyer smiled slyly. "I just want to understand how your parents died so suddenly. So insistently."
"Insistently? Are you drunk? Didn't you see the reports?" Fateh folded his arms, his anger simmering.
Mehr turned to him, puzzled. "What report, Fateh? What are you talking about?"
The room fell silent.
"Fateh," Mehr repeated, now standing directly in front of him. "What report?"
The lawyer spoke again. "She hasn't seen the accident report yet?"
Mehr ignored him and picked up a pen. "Which papers do you want me to sign?"
A lawyer quickly slid them in front of her. Mehr read them slowly, silently for fifteen minutes, then signed and handed them back.
"You can go now," she said coldly.
After they left, Mehr shut the door and turned to Fateh. "When were you going to tell me, Fateh?"
"Mehr... you weren't ready. I didn't know how to tell you."
"What's in that report?"
"It's the accident report."
"You said 'report'?" she asked again.
Fateh paused, then reluctantly took it out of his pocket and handed it to her. As she read, her hands trembled. Tears streamed down her face.
Fateh quickly pulled it from her hands and grabbed a tissue, wiping her eyes. Her hazel eyes—always bright—were red and swollen.
"This is why I didn't show you. I knew it would break you."
"Give it back, Fateh," she whispered, holding out her hand.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I can't watch you read it again and again and cry."
"I need to. I need to remember what I did—what my anger cost me. I hurt them. I pushed them away. I never got to say goodbye."
Fateh, speechless, handed it over. She smiled faintly. "Thank you. Now are you going to just stand there staring at me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your parents have been waiting outside for two hours."
Fateh blinked, then rushed to open the door. They were gone.
"Where did they go?" Mehr asked.
He shrugged. Mehr called out, "Uncle Yusuf?"
He appeared quickly. "Yes, my child?"
"Where did the guests go?"
"They waited a long time but had to leave, dear," he said kindly before returning to the kitchen.
Mehr looked at Fateh. "What do we do now?"
Fateh smiled. "It's okay, maybe they had other plans."
They sat on the sofa. Mehr turned serious.
"Fateh, some people came from Baba's office earlier. They said I have to take over the company. I don't know how. I've barely even been there."
She broke down. Fateh sat closer, gently tucked her hair back.
"Don't worry. I'm with you."
Mehr had changed. The arrogance was gone. The pain had humbled her.
"Can't all this stop now?"
"If I could freeze time, Mehr, I would."
"I miss them so much," she whispered.
"We were together forever... since I met you, I've given you all of me. I wish I could take your pain. But what fate writes, no one can erase."
They sat quietly. Then Mehr said, "Go, Fateh. You have your father's company to manage."
Fateh smiled and left.
Two months passed. Mehr managed the company remotely, slowly piecing herself together. Fateh visited daily, always eating meals with her.
"Fateh, you don't have to come every day," she said one night.
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" he asked, mock offended.
"No! I didn't mean—"
Fateh put down his spoon. "Say it. Say you don't want to see me. Say it and I'll leave your life."
Mehr froze. "Don't say that. I'll die."
Her words stunned him. She had become fragile—so unlike her old self. He hugged her.
"I was joking, Mehr. Please don't cry."
She pulled away. "Some joke, Fateh."
He lifted her chin. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."
She didn't answer.
He held his ears playfully. "Please."
She smiled faintly. "It's okay. I forgive you."
They finished dinner. Fateh left.
Later, Mehr sat outside in the lawn, staring at the sky. The night passed in silence. She looked at pictures of her parents and wept.
At dawn, Yusuf found her there. Her eyes were swollen, dry from crying.
"Mehr, my child... what have you done to yourself?"
"Uncle Yusuf, I try to be strong, but their memory haunts me."
He sat beside her. "You're brave. We're all with you. Come rest."
He helped her to bed, staying until she slept.
Elsewhere, Fateh's father Suleiman confronted him.
"It's time. You need to go to America."
Fateh remained silent.
"Take over Mehr's company. Marry her, own it, then leave her."
"What? I'll never betray her."
"Why? Because you love her?" Suleiman sneered.
"Yes. I do."
"She's an orphan, boy! You've lost your mind."
"She's the daughter of your friend! Would he talk about you like this?"
"He's dead. Friends die too."
Fateh had enough. He turned to leave.
"Go to America. Or else."
"Or else what?"
"She'll have to die."
"You're threatening her life now?"
"Call it what you want. But she must be removed from your path."
Fateh stared at him, heart heavy.
"Fine. I'll go. But I must see her one last time."
"One time. That's it."
Fateh agreed. He wouldn't tell Mehr the truth.
When he reached her home, she was asleep. He went to Yusuf.
"Uncle, when did she fall asleep?"
"Not long ago. She cried all night."
Fateh stood silently at her door. "Take care of yourself, Mehr. We may never meet again—but I'll always love you."
He turned away and whispered to Yusuf:
"I'm leaving. Don't tell Mehr. Just watch over her."
Yusuf's heart ached. "You're not coming back?"
"No. I can't solve this here."
Fateh walked away.
Mehr woke at 7 PM. She joined Yusuf on the sofa.
"Areeba, bring water," Yusuf called.
Mehr picked up her phone. She called Fateh. His number was off.
She tried again. And again. No answer.
She turned to Yusuf.
"Did Fateh come today?"
He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."
"Strange... why didn't he stay?"
She sat quietly, uneasy, unaware that her world had shifted again—and this time, he wasn't coming back.