✨ Rewritten & More Intimate Version
🌬️ The Air That Felt Empty Even in Her Presence
Abu Zarr slowly stood up.
Seeing Zoboriya just moments ago had made his heart race—
but now, that same heartbeat dissolved into an uneasy silence.
He stepped forward.
With every step, the wind around him grew louder,
as if something unseen was slipping away right in front of him.
“Zoboriya…?”
he whispered.
No reply.
Only the soft rustle of pages answered him.
The same books.
The same table.
The same dim yellow light of the library.
Only Zoboriya was missing.
💔 To Feel You… and Still Be Punished for It
Abu Zarr looked around.
No one.
Yet the air still carried her fragrance—
as if she had just passed by him.
“Where are you?”
“Why does my waiting feel like a punishment?”
“Or… was I late again?”
He ran a hand through his hair and slowly sat back down.
This time, he didn’t open the book.
He simply placed his palm on the table—
right where Zoboriya’s letter had once been.
“Will this love remain incomplete… again?”
“Or is this just another test of faith?”
📚 The Library That Spoke Like Letters
Rain began to fall outside.
Inside the silent library,
Abu Zarr’s eyes welled up.
Suddenly—
An old, loose page floated down onto his lap.
Zoboriya’s handwriting.
His breath caught.
“If you ever feel that I’m gone,
know that I’m closer than ever.”
“This time, you won’t find me at the door—
but in the answers to your questions.”
“Abu Zarr… love no longer meets through faces,
but through faith.”
“And my faith in you never left.”
He pressed the page to his chest.
Now he understood—
Zoboriya hadn’t left.
She had become the air between them.
“Whether you come or not,”
he whispered,
“I will now live in your presence—
in every silence, every dawn, every wait.”
⏳ A Waiting That Had Already Imagined Its End
In Lucknow…
Zoboriya sat beside her mother.
The room was calm,
but inside her, a storm raged.
Each tick of the clock tightened her breath.
Her mother gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Zobo… don’t be afraid.”
“The door that opens today won’t close again.”
Zoboriya nodded.
Her lips trembled.
Then—
Ding Dong.
The doorbell rang.
“Abu Zarr…”
she whispered without realizing.
She stood up.
Hope, fear, prayer—all at once lit her face.
“Go,” her parents smiled.
“Open the door that’s been waiting for you all these years.”
🚪 The Door That Opened for the Wrong Name
Zoboriya closed her eyes.
“Abu Zarr…”
She opened the door.
Silence.
And then—
Her breath froze.
It wasn’t him.
“Safwan…?”
Her joy collapsed in an instant.
“Why are you here?”
Safwan spoke softly.
“Zobo… may I come in? Just to talk.”
Behind her, her parents smiled—
thinking he was Abu Zarr.
But Zoboriya’s eyes dimmed.
“You shouldn’t have come,”
“Not today.”
“I’m still alive in someone else’s name.”
✈️ Meanwhile… The Turn That Fate Missed
Abu Zarr landed—
Not in Lucknow.
But in Istanbul.
His heart sank.
“No… this isn’t where I was meant to be.”
He reached for his phone.
Gone.
Left behind on a station bench.
Crowds. Announcements. Noise.
But not her name.
“Zobo… have I come too late again?”
That night—
Every door remained incomplete.
📚 To Be Continued…
🔹 Short Next Part (Teaser)
That night, Zoboriya stood near the same door long after everyone slept.
Elsewhere, Abu Zarr sat alone in Istanbul—
holding a book that no longer held letters.
Two hearts.
Two cities.
One mistake.
And fate…
Was preparing to ask for a price.
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