Waking late on the weekend, Anisa pondered whether she should tell Yugh about Zahra's significant investment in the business. But the memory of his furious, dismissive reaction to her last revelation "the story of the ring" stopped her. She let the idea go; it was a bridge she couldn't afford to burn again. đ
She spent the day outdoors, tending to the plants in her garden, the simple, physical work a welcome respite from the financial and emotional knots tightening in her life.
Across the city, Yugh was also navigating his weekend, structured around his hospital shifts. In his off-hours, he sought outlets for his restless mind: listening to music, playing video games, attempting meditation. đ§ââď¸
It was the music that often brought the sharpest pangs of memory. Hearing a particular song would transport him back to Zahra, to their playful, mock arguments over the playlist.
He had always favored fast-paced foreign rock and electronic beats, a stark contrast to her love for serene, classical melodies. Their tastes had diverged, a small crack that now, in hindsight, seemed to echo a larger, growing distance between them. The memory of those disagreements, once trivial, now felt like faint, sad echoes of a fundamental disconnect he had been too busy, or too content, to fully acknowledge. đ