Reem, a woman living quietly on her own, crosses paths with a wounded stranger one night and chooses to help him never knowing who he really is. As fate keeps pulling them back together in chance encounters, a fragile connection begins to form. But behind his silence lies a dangerous truth, he is part of a feared gang she’s only ever heard whispers about. And when the truth finally surfaces, their love may already be too deep to escape.
The humid night air of Lyari hung heavy with the scent of salt and diesel, but inside Reem’s modest stall, it was taken over by the sweet, fading perfume of jasmine and roses. Reem moved with a practiced, gentle grace, her small 5’2” frame weaving between the buckets as she gathered the day’s remnants.
Being an orphan had taught her the art of silence and the necessity of self-reliance. Since the day her mother took her last breath bringing her into the world, a debt of guilt Reem carried like a physical weight as she moved through foster homes like a ghost. Now, she had a small house, a flower shop, and a life built on the humble earnings of a florist. She was soft and a bit chubby on the plump side, with a birthmark tucked like a secret under the left corner of her full lower lip.
She checked her watch, 10:00 PM.
A jolt of anxiety shot through her. Lyari at this hour was no place for a woman alone. She hurriedly pulled the metal shutters down, the clatter echoing too loudly in the vacant street. Just as she turned to leave, a low, guttural grunt sliced through the silence.
“Ugh...ya khuda...” (oh god…)
Reem froze, her chocolate-brown eyes widened, scanning the dim shadows around her. A few paces away, a tall man stumbled into the light of a flickering streetlamp before collapsing heavily against the cobblestones right in front of her shop.
Fear screamed at her to run, but her heart, the same heart that spent its weekends teaching orphans for free wouldn't let her. She knelt beside him, her sky blue salwar kameez rustling.
“Arrey! Aap... aap theek hain?” (Are you... are you okay?) Her voice trembled, thick with a concern that quickly over took her terror.
The man was dressed in an olive-green kurta pajama, now darkened by a terrifying, spreading slick of crimson. His face, sharp and rugged, was drenched in a cold sweat, his jaw clenched in an agony so deep it seemed to vibrate off him. He wasn't unconscious, but he was drifting.
Reem reached out, her small hand trembling as she moved his arm away from clutching his side, she gasped, the sound caught in her throat. A deep, jagged gash likely from a blade or a knife, something sharp had torn through the fabric and his flesh.
“Ya Allah, yeh kaise...ek minute! Bas ek minute, ghabrayein mat!” (Oh God, how did this... one minute! Just one minute, don't be afraid!) She adjusted her falling dupatta with frantic movements, her mind racing.
He was a broad-shouldered solidly built man, like he’d been shaped by years of some physical work rather than a gym, and she was made of something quieter, softer like she belonged to a world untouched by men like him.
She fisted the fabric of his kurta at his chest, trying to prop him up, to put him into a seating position. “Aap rukiye, main abhi aayi!” (Stay here, I’ll be right back!)
Reem bolted towards the nearby parking lot where her pride and joy, a small car gifted by her school friends was parked. She could have tried to drag him here, but with the way he’s built, it would’ve been nearly impossible. She drove it back to the shop in a blurred frenzy, tires screeching as she shifted into neutral and leapt out right infront of her shop.
The man’s breathing was coming in heavy rattles now, Reem braced herself as she draped his massive arm over her shoulders. The weight was immense, nearly folding her small frame and making them both fall, but she gritted her teeth, grunting and struggling until she managed to guide him into the passenger seat. His blood smeared across her clothes, a hot, metallic reminder that this is real.
As she peeled away from the curb, she glanced at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. She reached over, shaking his shoulder gently.
“Uthiye! Aankhein khole rakhein…Aapka naam kya hai? Baat karein mujhse!” (Wake up! Keep your eyes open….What is your name? Talk to me!)
He turned his head slowly, his vision a fractured mosaic of sky blue and the soft, blurred features of a girl who looked like she belonged in a prayer, not a crime scene. He let out a ragged breath, a drunken shake of his head his only answer, he wouldn't give her a name.
Reem let out a frustrated, shaky sigh.
The nearest hospital was two hours away through checkpoints and dangerous territory. If she took him there, he might bleed out before they even hit the main road.
“Ya Allah... main kya kar rahi hoon” (Ya Allah…. What am i doing?) she whispered to herself, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“Umeed hai main sahi kar rahi hoon... aur yeh aadmi mere hi ghar mein mujhe maar na de.” (I hope I'm doing the right thing... and this man doesn't end up killing me in my own home.)
A faint, pained cough erupted from the man but his strength had evaporated. His head lolled against the window, his body going limp as the darkness finally claimed him.
Reem bit her lip, a stray strand of her long, wavy black hair escaping her braid as she turned onto the narrow path leading to her house. She looked at his pale, sweating face one last time before the engine's hum filled the silence of her resolve.
“Inshallah, aap theek ho jayenge...” (Inshallah you’ll get better…) she prayed silently.
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This is actually my first time properly writing and sharing a story, I’ve tried so before, but I never really had the courage to post anything. Howeverrrrr after seeing so many Uzair stories, I don’t know why it still feels like it’s not enough LMFAO
So here I am, finally giving in and writing my own. I’m not sure if this is good or not, but I’d genuinely love all your feedback, I’m open to anything!!
And do tell me honestly, should I continue this?
Hope you enjoyed chapter 1!! ❤️❤️❤️
