Zainab couldn’t shake her sister’s warning: “He’s not who you think he is. He’s hiding something, Zainab, and when you find out, you’ll wish you were never born.”
Those words haunted her long after she returned to the modest hut. Even as Yusha described the colors of the setting sun that evening, doubt gnawed at her heart.
“Yusha,” she said softly, hesitant, “my sister said something… something troubling.”
He paused, his fingers still resting on the oud he strummed so gracefully. “What did she say?”
“She said you’re hiding something from me,” Zainab admitted.
A heavy silence filled the room, thick enough to feel like another presence. Yusha exhaled deeply and carefully set the oud aside. “Zainab, there are parts of my past I’m not proud of. I didn’t lie to you—I just didn’t want to burden you. But if you wish to know, I will tell you everything.”
Zainab nodded, her heart racing. “I want to know.”
Yusha’s voice remained calm, though a faint tremor betrayed his emotion. “I once had everything—a family, wealth, respect. I was a merchant, admired by many. But one night, fire claimed it all. My home, my belongings… my family didn’t survive. I couldn’t save them.”
Zainab’s hand found his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand gently. “Grief swallowed me whole. I became a beggar not out of necessity, but because I lost the will to go on. I thought I was cursed, destined to wander alone. Until I met you.”
Her breath caught. “Me?”
“You gave me hope, Zainab. Your courage, your spirit, your laughter—it brought me back to life. I may not have riches or a grand home to give, but I can offer you love, respect, and loyalty.”
Tears streamed down Zainab’s cheeks. In that moment, she understood: the past didn’t define them. What mattered was the present, their shared moments, and the love that had unexpectedly blossomed.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “Your past doesn’t frighten me, Yusha. We all carry scars.”
He embraced her tightly, relief washing over him in the strength of his hug, as if afraid she might vanish.
Over the months, Zainab and Yusha built a life together. They planted a small garden behind their hut, tending it with patience and care. The villagers began to notice the transformation in them both. Yusha walked taller, freed from the weight of guilt, and Zainab, once the blind girl cast aside by her own family, became a symbol of resilience and inspiration for all.
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