"Chal Safira," he pulled her hand, but this time she didn't budge, rooted in her place she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

He frowned slightly, confusion flickering across his face, his busted lips and bloody nose stood as a harsh reminder of what she had pulled him into.

Safira blinked back her tears before her mehndi claded hands slowly raised and she slipped her other hand free from his grasp.

"No" she whispered, her voice cracked as she step back, without looking away from his shocked face.

And when it struck to him what she was doing, what she had chosen.

She witnessed the biggest heartbreak of her life.

Hate.

Disgust.

And everything in between.

She saw it all pass through his eyes.

She couldn't look anymore and so she finally turned away.

Her heart shattering into million pieces as she walked away from him.

The love of her life.

Danir Mustafa.

الفراق اشد من الموت 
جدائی موت سے زیادہ سخت ہے

Al-firaaq ashad min al-maut

Judai maut se zyada sakht hai