On the way back, Zaheer glanced at Salar's face. Just a short while ago, pain and confusion had been clearly written across his features, but now they had been replaced by a strange sense of peace. Seeing this change filled Zaheer with quiet happiness. Salar, too, seemed far more at ease than before... yet the burden on his heart had not completely faded.
Aizal's face surfaced in his mind once again.
Deep within himself, he had already made a decision—he would find Aizal and meet her again. He would tell her that he had never intended to go back on his word or bind her into an unwanted relationship. He had merely spoken those harsh words in ignorance... words whose sting he was now beginning to feel himself.
But in the very next moment, a question arose in his mind... a question that once again disturbed the fragile peace settling in his heart.
How was he supposed to find Aizal?
The thought instantly deepened the seriousness on his face. He had neither her phone number nor her address, nor any information that could help him reach her again. When he had dropped her off in Lahore and returned, it had never crossed his mind—not even for a single moment—that one day he might desperately need to find that same girl again.
Now that very thought was eating away at him from within.
He let out a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the road, but his mind continued to circle around the same thought. Silently, he began blaming himself... If only he had asked for some way to contact her, some address, anything at all. But at that time, his pride and indifference had made him so careless that he had never imagined he would one day have to pay such a price for that neglect.
Just then, Zaheer's voice broke his train of thought.
"Salar... is something bothering you?" he asked, studying his face carefully.
"If there is, you can tell me. Honestly, I never believed Salar Shah could ever be troubled by anything... but in the last twenty-four hours, you've surprised me so much that nothing seems impossible anymore."
He paused for a moment before speaking gently.
"So tell me... what's wrong?"
Somewhere deep inside, Zaheer felt that Aizal had something to do with all of this, but he deliberately chose not to mention her name. He simply waited, hoping Salar might speak on his own.
Salar smiled faintly and shook his head.
"No... nothing important."
At that moment, the car stopped in front of Zaheer's house.
Opening the door, Zaheer said,
"Alright then, In shā' Allāh we'll meet tomorrow. It's been so long since you, Azam, and I sat together."
Then suddenly, as if remembering something, he looked back at Salar.
"There's one thing I still don't understand, Salar..." he said with mild confusion.
"How did Azam suddenly agree to go on that trip with Edward and John?"
He paused, then added in surprise,
"To be honest, I still can't believe Azam actually agreed to go with them. You must have been the one who convinced him."
Then, raising an eyebrow, he continued,
"And another thing... the two of you just left for the trip without even thinking it necessary to ask me."
Salar smiled lightly at his words.
"I already knew you wouldn't come. I even told Azam that you were coming too, but you walked away like an offended beloved before I could say anything."
"I didn't want to go!" Zaheer replied irritably.
"And definitely not with your reckless friends."
Salar chuckled softly.
"To this day, I still don't understand what exactly your problem with Edward and John is."
Zaheer took a deep breath and answered in a serious tone,
"I have no personal issue with them... my problem is with the recklessness they choose to call freedom."
With that, he looked at Salar one last time, quietly opened the car door, and stepped outside.
"Allah Hafiz... see you tomorrow," he said before walking toward his house.
Salar remained seated for a few moments... then turned the car around and drove back to his penthouse.
As soon as he entered, a familiar and soul-touching sound echoed through the house. A calm and beautiful recitation filled every corner of the home. It was Surah Ar-Rahman, and as always, Mehmet was reciting it along with its translation. He often said that the Qur'an should not merely be read but understood, which was why he would softly repeat the meanings of the verses as he recited them.
"Ar-Rahman...
He taught the Qur'an...
He created mankind..."
Then came the gentle translation in his voice:
"He is the Most Merciful... He taught the Qur'an... It is He who created mankind."
A few moments later, the same verse echoed again:
"Fa bi ayyi ālā'i rabbikumā tukadhdhibān."
And in a soft voice came its meaning:
"Then which of your Lord's blessings will you deny?"
There was something indescribably powerful in those words.
Salar's footsteps came to a halt, as though someone had gently placed a comforting hand upon the unrest in his heart. The confusion that had been swirling through his mind only moments ago slowly began to fade.
Perhaps this is what it feels like when a person stands upon the very first step of faith and begins to sense the closeness of their Lord.
The one reciting was Mehmet.
Normally, after finishing his work, he would leave for the annex, but today he had stayed behind. Miss Maria had not been feeling well, so he had asked her to rest, and he decided to remain in the house until Salar returned.
Mehmet was from Turkey. His devotion to prayer and his love for the Qur'an were an inseparable part of his personality. He had memorized the Qur'an at a very young age, for in many Turkish households, children becoming Huffaz at an early age is considered perfectly normal.
As long as Mehmet continued reciting Surah Ar-Rahman, an overwhelming awe settled over Salar's heart. The room echoed with the beautiful recitation and its translation:
"Then which of your Lord's blessings will you deny?"
The words repeated again and again, and each time Salar felt as though the question was being directed to him personally.
Without realizing it, tears began streaming from his eyes.
It felt as though the hardness surrounding his heart was slowly melting away, and some long-forgotten truth was revealing itself before him.
As soon as Mehmet finished the recitation, Salar seemed to return to the world around him. Feeling the tears in his eyes, even he was taken aback. A strange state had settled over his heart—one that he neither understood nor could put into words.
After completing the recitation, Mehmet gently closed the Holy Qur'an with deep reverence and respectfully wrapped it in its cover. As he turned around, his eyes fell upon Salar standing before him, and for a brief moment he froze.
Then quickly composing himself, he respectfully said,
"Mr. Salar... when did you arrive? How are you feeling now? Actually, I was waiting for you. I thought you might need something, so I stayed."
Collecting himself, Salar smiled faintly and asked in a composed tone,
"Miss Maria must have gone home?"
Mehmet nodded softly.
"Yes... she wasn't feeling very well, so I asked her to go and get some rest."
A trace of concern immediately appeared on Salar's face.
"If she wasn't well, you should have told me. Zaheer was with me... he could have checked her."
Usually, Mehmet and Miss Maria would prepare dinner and leave because Salar never had a fixed meal schedule. If he was late, he disliked making anyone wait. Besides, the kitchen was equipped with every modern convenience, including a microwave oven where he could easily reheat his own food. That was why he always cared about Miss Maria's comfort and Mehmet's studies, even if he rarely expressed his concern openly.
"And you have university in the morning too, Mehmet... so why are you still working at this hour?" Salar asked.
Today, Mehmet sensed far more concern and warmth in Salar's words than ever before.
For several moments, he simply stood there, silently looking at him, trying to understand this unfamiliar gentleness in his tone.
Noticing the way Mehmet was staring at him, Salar frowned slightly in mild irritation and said,
"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"
To find out what happens next, stay present with the story and share your thoughts in the comments.
What turn do you think Salar's life is about to take?
Will he finally find true peace of heart... and will he ever find Aizal again?