The night had never felt this long.
Areeba sat on the rooftop, her back resting against the cold wall, her phone still in her trembling hands. The screen had gone dark, but the voices… they hadn't stopped.
They were still there.
Echoing.
Repeating.
Breaking her again and again.
At first, she tried to justify everything.
Her mind refused to accept what her ears had heard.
"No… maybe I misunderstood…"
Her voice was barely a whisper, her lips dry, her eyes swollen.
She wiped her tears and played the recording again.
"I should have stopped earlier…" she murmured to herself.
"I shouldn't have asked her like that…"
A pause.
Then she shook her head.
"No… if I didn't ask… how would I ever be at peace?"
Her thoughts started running in circles.
"If I stayed silent… I would have doubted her forever… I would have thought she's hiding things… I would have become fake in front of her…"
Her breathing became uneven.
"At least I asked her directly… I didn't betray her…"
Her fingers tightened around her phone.
"I didn't talk behind her back… I didn't smile in front of her and judge her in silence…"
Her voice cracked.
"I was honest…"
She took a deep breath.
"I know I was hurt… I know my tone wasn't perfect… but I didn't say anything wrong…"
Her eyes closed slowly.
"I just asked questions…"
A tear rolled down her cheek.
"And even then… I left… so I wouldn't make things worse…"
She remembered that moment clearly—
walking away instead of arguing,
choosing silence instead of anger.
"What exactly did I do wrong…?" she whispered.
The night gave no answer.
She played the recording again.
This time, she listened more carefully.
Every word.
Every pause.
Every breath.
And then…
It came.
Her own voice faded in the background.
A moment where she had left.
Where her phone remained behind.
And then—
Laughter.
Loud.
Carefree.
Careless.
Areeba's heart stopped.
That laughter… it didn't sound like hers.
It didn't sound like their laughter.
It felt different.
Distant.
Cold.
Then Noor's voice.
Then Safa's.
Talking.
About her.
"Areeba is too much…"
"She overreacts…"
"She thinks she's always right…"
Areeba's fingers froze.
Her breath got stuck in her throat.
"No…" she whispered.
But the voices didn't stop.
They laughed again.
And this time…
The words were sharper.
"God help the people around her…"
"She's so difficult to deal with…"
"Because of her… Noor's breakup happened last year…"
Areeba's eyes widened.
Her heart shattered silently.
"What…?"
Her lips trembled.
"That… wasn't even true…"
But the voices continued.
As if she didn't exist.
As if she never mattered.
And then—
They casually started talking about going to a salon.
About clothes.
About random things.
Like nothing had happened.
Like Areeba was never part of their world.
That hurt the most.
Not the accusations.
Not the blame.
But the normalcy.
The ease with which they moved on… without her.
Areeba replayed that part again.
And again.
And again.
Each time hoping…
Maybe she heard it wrong.
Maybe it wasn't what it sounded like.
But every time—
The truth remained the same.
Her lips slowly curved into a faint, broken smile.
Then a soft laugh escaped her.
"Wow…"
Her voice was hollow.
"So this is what I got… in the end…"
Tears rolled down, but she kept laughing.
"All that sincerity…"
"All that love…"
"All that effort…"
"And this… is how it ends?"
If someone else had told her this…
She would have never believed them.
She would have fought.
Defended her friends.
Argued.
Maybe even ended that person for saying such things.
But this time…
She heard it herself.
And that made it unbearable.
She held her head with both hands.
"I was wrong…"
Not about asking questions.
Not about doubting.
But about trusting blindly.
Suddenly—
She felt a presence.
Before she could react—
Two arms wrapped around her tightly.
"didi…"
Sameer.
Areeba froze.
She hadn't even realized when he came.
She turned her face slightly.
Sameer was hugging her tightly, his small hands trying to hold her broken pieces together.
And that was enough.
Areeba broke.
Completely.
She buried her face in his shoulder and cried.
Not quietly.
Not silently.
But loudly.
Like a child.
Like someone who had been holding everything for too long.
Sameer didn't say anything.
He just stayed there.
Holding her.
Letting her cry.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe hours.
Areeba didn't know.
All she knew was—
She was exhausted.
Empty.
Drained.
Her tears slowed down.
Her breathing became calmer.
But her heart…
It still hurt.
She slowly pulled away.
Wiped her face.
And looked at Sameer.
He didn't ask questions.
He didn't judge.
He just looked at her…
With concern.
With love.
Areeba forced a small smile.
"I'm okay…"
But her voice betrayed her.
Sameer didn't believe it.
But he didn't say anything either.
She looked up.
The sky was changing.
The darkness was fading.
A soft light was spreading.
Morning.
Areeba stared at the sky.
"So… this is how it ends…"
Her voice was calm now.
Too calm.
Then something changed.
A shift.
A decision.
"No…"
She whispered.
"This can't end like this."
She stood up slowly.
Her legs felt weak.
But her eyes…
They were different now.
"I need answers."
Her voice was firm.
"Why?"
"Why did they say those things?"
"Was my sincerity not enough?"
"Was my love not enough?"
"Or was I just… never enough?"
She looked at Sameer.
"I'm not running away this time."
They both went downstairs.
The house was quiet.
But inside Areeba…
A storm was rising again.
She didn't sleep.
Not even for a second.
Her eyes were heavy.
But her mind was wide awake.
She wore her uniform.
Slowly.
Mechanically.
Like a routine.
But today…
It felt different.
She picked up her phone.
Her fingers paused for a second.
Then she dialed.
Noor.
Safa.
Wisha.
When they picked up—
She didn't waste time.
"I have something to ask."
Her voice was steady.
Too steady.
No explanations.
No emotions.
Just one sentence.
"I'll see you in college."
She cut the call.
Picked up her bag.
And walked out.
The road felt longer than usual.
Each step carried a question.
Each breath carried pain.
But this time…
She wasn't walking away.
She was walking towards the truth.
And somewhere deep inside—
She knew.
Whatever happens today…
Nothing will ever be the same again.