Rayyan froze at the hospital doorway.
Lisa was standing beside his father's bed, her head lowered slightly, hands clasped together. The morning light through the curtain softened her face — but the moment he saw her, it felt like the world tilted again.
Lisa.
Too many questions rushed at once. Why was she here? Did Ayden bring her?Does his father know who she is?
Rayyan took a deep breath, forcing calm. He couldn't show it — not now, not in front of his father.
His father looked up, smiling weakly. "Rayyan, come in, son."
Rayyan stepped closer, his chest heavy.
"Dad, how are you feeling?"
"Better," his father said, voice soft and tired. "The surgery went well. The doctor says I'll be discharged tomorrow. Oh, and—" he gestured toward Lisa, "—Ayden came earlier to visit me. I'm not sure how he found out I was in the hospital. This is Lisa… Ayden's girlfriend. He just introduced her before he went to the toilet."
Lisa turned slightly. Her eyes met Rayyan's for a fleeting second — brief, trembling, filled with everything unspoken.
Rayyan forced a smile. "Yes, Dad. I've met Lisa before this. Ayden introduced Lisa to me last week when he came to the college."
His father smiled faintly. "Good. I'm glad you all are close."
Rayyan nodded, pretending to focus on his father's chart, pretending not to feel Lisa's gaze flicker toward him — guilty, uncertain, afraid.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
"Brooo! It's me!"
Ayden's voice broke through the silence — loud, bright, full of life.
He walked in with that familiar smile, eyes full of energy. "Why didn't you tell me your father was admitted, bro? So many things happened, and you didn't even think to inform me! Why, man?"
Rayyan looked up, trying to sound casual. "Ayden… you've already helped me more than I can ever repay. I didn't want to burden you again. Somehow, I managed to sort things out and reach here on time."
Ayden frowned for a second, then laughed lightly. "You're crazy, bro. Your dad told me you rode all the way here on a bike. That's dangerous, man! You could've called me!"
"It's fine," Rayyan said softly. "I'm here. That's what matters."
Ayden clapped his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. You're stubborn, that's what you are."
He turned to his girlfriend. "Lisa, come, let's go grab something to drink. Rayyan, you too. There's a small café outside the hospital."
Rayyan hesitated, but his father smiled. "Go, son. I'll rest for a bit."
The three of them walked together. The air outside was cool and smelled faintly of rain.
Rayyan walked a step behind them, his mind racing. Lisa didn't say a word. Her silence wasn't cold — it was the silence of someone hiding a storm inside.
They found a small coffee shop near the hospital gate — half-full, the air rich with the smell of tea and toasted bread.
Ayden waved to the waiter cheerfully. "Bro, what do you want to drink?"
"Just warm water," Rayyan said quietly.
Ayden frowned. "Warm water? Come on, bro, you're not eighty. Order something else."
"Okay," Rayyan said finally. "Coffee then."
"Good man!" Ayden grinned, snapping his fingers. "One coffee, and two teas for me and Lisa. You're okay with tea, right, baby? That's my favorite — so it must be yours too."
He laughed, playful and proud.
Lisa smiled faintly — but her eyes didn't match her lips.
Rayyan's chest tightened. He remembered her once telling him she didn't like tea. "Too bitter," she'd said softly back in college. "I prefer coffee. It feels more… honest."
But now, she just nodded. "Tea is fine."
Rayyan looked away. None of this was his business. He reminded himself again and again.
The drinks arrived. Steam rose between them.
Ayden leaned back, talking fast, his words tumbling one over another.
"Rayyan, bro, next time don't do crazy stuff like riding that long at night. I'll arrange a truck to bring your bike back here. You can take a bus tonight. Safer that way."
Rayyan shook his head. "You've done too much already, Ayden. I can manage."
"Bro." Ayden raised his hand, cutting him off. "Don't argue. I've decided."
Rayyan gave a small nod. "Alright. Thank you."
Lisa stayed silent. Her fingers circled the rim of her cup, untouched.
Ayden turned to her, grinning. "See, Lisa? That's how friendship works. You give, you take, you never count."
She looked up briefly, smiled politely, and lowered her eyes again.
Something flickered in her gaze — guilt? Fear? Rayyan couldn't tell. He didn't want to.
After a while, Ayden leaned back with a sigh. "Bro, I'll be leaving soon anyway."
Rayyan looked up. "Leaving?"
"Yeah," Ayden said proudly. "London. Finally. My studies abroad are starting next week. I wanted to see you before I go. And…" he glanced at Lisa, "spend time with my girl before I leave."
Lisa's hand froze on the cup.
Ayden didn't notice. "She's going to stay at my house for a few days. My parents are in New York visiting my sister, so it's just us. Lucky timing, huh?" He laughed, full of satisfaction.
Lisa's lips curved, but the smile never reached her eyes.
Rayyan's stomach twisted.
Now he understood. Why she'd missed class. Why she said she was "away for semester break." But he still didn't understand why she lied.
Was she trapped in something she couldn't escape? Or was Ayden just painting a picture that wasn't true?
He looked at her again — she avoided his gaze.
Ayden kept talking, oblivious to the silence between them. "Anyway, bro, after London, I'll be back a changed man. Maybe I'll get engaged right after graduation." He winked at Lisa. "Right, baby?"
Lisa smiled faintly. "Right."
Rayyan forced himself to look away, stirring his coffee long after it had gone cold.
In that moment, he decided — he had to stop feeling. Whatever was between them, whatever could have been, it ended before it began. His world was his family now. His parents. His studies. Nothing else.
He hardened his heart, built walls around it — walls he hoped would last.
When the cups were empty, Ayden clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's head back. Uncle must be waiting."
They walked back to the hospital. Ayden's car was parked outside. Rayyan reached for his bike keys, but Ayden stopped him.
"Leave it here, bro. I'll arrange transport for it tomorrow. I already told the workshop guys. You're taking the bus tonight."
Rayyan hesitated, but Ayden's tone left no room for refusal.
"Okay," Rayyan said finally. "Thank you again."
Ayden grinned. "What are friends for?"
He dropped Rayyan home later that evening. Rayyan packed his bag slowly — every sound in the house felt heavier than usual. The clock ticked softly, the window dripped with leftover rain, and the air smelled of medicine and damp clothes.
His mother was sitting on the edge of the bed, folding his spare shirt — the one she had ironed earlier that morning. Her hands were steady, but her eyes weren't.
"Already going back?" she asked quietly.
Rayyan nodded, not meeting her gaze. "Yeah, Mom… classes resume tomorrow. And there's a test coming."
She sighed, her voice low and tired. "You've been running since the day you were born, Rayyan… always rushing for something. I just wish life would slow down for you — even for a moment."
He smiled faintly. "It will, Mom. After exams… maybe then."
She reached up, brushing his hair gently like she did when he was a boy. "Your father's strong. Don't worry about him. But you—" her voice cracked slightly, "—you take care of yourself too. You always forget that part."
Rayyan looked at her, his chest tightening. "I'll be okay, Mom. I promise."
She nodded, though her eyes shimmered. "When you reach college, message me. I can't sleep until I know you're safe."
He nodded again. "I will."
As he zipped his bag, his mother whispered, half to herself, "Every time you leave, the house feels emptier… but I still thank God you grew up strong enough to walk out that door."
Rayyan stopped. Turned. Hugged her tightly."Because of you, Mom," he said softly. "Always because of you."
For a moment, she said nothing — just held him a little tighter, afraid that if she let go too soon, he'd disappear again into the storm that kept following him
When Ayden honked outside, Rayyan took one last look at his house — at the light spilling from the small window, at the warmth he was leaving behind again.
At the bus station, Ayden handed him the ticket. "Bro, text me when you reach. And don't think too much, okay? You worry too much."
Rayyan smiled faintly. "I'll try."
Lisa sat quietly in the car, looking out the window. For a second, their eyes met through the glass — brief, fragile.
Then the bus doors closed.
As the bus rolled away, city lights flickering past, Rayyan leaned against the window. His reflection looked older — not by age, but by weight.
Too many questions. Too many doubts.
Was Lisa safe? Was she happy? Did she even want to be where she was?
He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.
None of this matters now, he told himself. What matters is family. What matters is the exam. What matters is becoming someone his parents could be proud of.
But deep inside, he knew — no matter how much he tried to harden his heart —there were still cracks.
And through those cracks, her face kept finding its way in.