My blank love - My blank love Part-24

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The Same Evening at the Bakery – A Few Days Later

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The cold had grown sharper.

Outside, a white sheet of snow covered everything.

Inside, in the warmth of the oven,

the air of the bakery felt a little sweet… and a little silent.

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Zoboriya stood near the counter.

Steam rose from the cup of coffee in her hands,

but even that steam couldn’t blur

the heaviness in her eyes.

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Memories That Won’t Let Go

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It had been a year since they came to Canada.

The house, the lanes, the haveli—she had left them all behind.

All for one reason—Abuzarr.

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A name that, even in memory,

shattered her heart into pieces.

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Once again,

those same images came back to her—

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Abuzarr’s smiling face,

the warmth in his words,

and those moments… when she had, without a single doubt,

placed her whole life in his hands.

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The Truth of Betrayal

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Zoboriya pressed her lips together softly.

How many times had she told herself—

"Forget everything, it’s all over."

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But the heart does not obey.

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> “Why did you hide it, Abuzarr…

You were married.

You had a daughter.

And me?

I was not even a name in your story.”

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The day the truth came out,

she had fallen apart like a tree

uprooted from its roots.

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What happened after that

was even more cruel.

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The Second Blow

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The boy she thought of as a friend,

on whose shoulder she had cried her heart out…

became the very reason for her ruin.

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He made a false video

and dragged her dignity through the mud

in front of everyone.

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And Zoboriya…

who no longer had the strength to defend herself,

silently left everything behind

and came to Canada with her parents.

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The Bakery – Her Refuge

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In this little town,

she thought that new faces,

new weather,

and new paths

would make her forget everything.

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But the truth was—

wherever she went,

the memories of Abuzarr

followed her like a shadow.

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She stirred her coffee slowly

and looked out of the window.

The layers of snow seemed to whisper—

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> “If forgetting was so easy,

why would you be here?”

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A Mother’s Support

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That same warm voice came from behind—

"My child…"

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Zoboriya turned.

It was her mother.

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In her eyes was all the love in the world—

no questions,

only shelter.

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Her mother pulled up a chair

and sat down beside her.

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> “Still thinking about the same things today?”

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Zoboriya gave a faint smile.

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> “Ammi…

It isn’t easy to explain to the heart.

This city has changed,

but the part of me that broke…

is still standing where it fell.”

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Her mother held her hand.

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> “Zoboriya,

some wounds time cannot heal.

But Allah has a plan.

Your life was never meant to stop here.”

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The Memory of Abuzarr

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In that moment,

Zoboriya’s eyes closed on their own.

Her heart whispered,

very softly,

just one name—

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“Abuzarr…”

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And in that name

there was no anger,

only the love

that had exhausted her soul while she was still alive.

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She spoke silently in her heart—

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> “If only I could forget you.

If only my breath

would stop saying your name

after your betrayal.

But what can I do…

Love does not fade away

just because we want it to.”

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The Next Turn

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Outside, snow kept falling.

Inside, for the first time,

Zoboriya opened her heart

just a little

in front of her mother.

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But how could she know

that in the coming days,

the same bell on that bakery door

would bring in a stranger

who would start writing

a new path

on the torn pages of her heart?

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Another Morning in the Same Bakery

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Snow had fallen all night long.

By morning, when the sun rose,

the entire town was buried under a white blanket.

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As always, Zoboriya arrived early

and stood behind the counter.

The steam of the coffee machine,

the smell of warm bread,

and the cold air through the window—

all of it had become routine.

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The Door Bell

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Tun…

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The door opened.

A gust of cold wind entered,

and with it, a new face.

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He must have been about twenty-five or twenty-six—

tall, calm,

a camera hanging around his neck,

and a thin layer of snow on his coat.

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He walked in slowly,

as though he was taking in

this place for the very first time.

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By the time he reached the counter,

he remained silent for a moment.

Then, in a very gentle voice, he said—

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> “Could I have

the table by the window?

And… a black coffee, please.”

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Zoboriya looked at him.

There was a strange stillness on his face,

as if he had already spoken so much

without saying a word.

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> “Yes,”

she replied softly

and began making the coffee.

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The First Question

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When she placed the cup in front of him,

he was still looking out the window.

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> “How long has this bakery been here?”

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Zoboriya answered,

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> “Just a year.

A new city, a new everything.”

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He smiled,

“That’s good.

Some places may be new,

but they hold old souls inside.”

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For the first time,

Zoboriya looked at him carefully.

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> “Are you here just to visit?”

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He hesitated a little—

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> “You could say that.

I take photographs…

of places

where people leave their sorrows behind.”

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Silent Eyes

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His words

went straight to Zoboriya’s heart.

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For the first time,

she wanted to hide her face from a stranger,

because it felt like

he had already read her soul.

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The Stranger’s Name

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After taking the first sip of coffee,

he said softly—

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> “By the way…

my name is Ehsan.”

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Placing his camera on the table, he asked,

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> “And you?

Do you run this bakery alone?”

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Zoboriya stayed silent for a moment,

then said quietly—

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> “Zoboriya.”

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And she turned her gaze back to the window.

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An Unknown Beginning

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The same stillness returned to the bakery.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

Inside, the steam kept rising.

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But that day,

for the very first time,

Zoboriya felt that a stranger’s mere presence

could make the weight on her heart

a little lighter.

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She did not know—

whether Ehsan was just a passerby,

or someone who was about to write

a whole new story

in her broken world.

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