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Outside, snowflakes were floating gently in the air, slowly settling on the ground.
On the white layer along the roadside, every footstep could be heard clearly.
Beyond the large glass window, Zoboriya’s bakery was filled with warmth and softness—
the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon rising from the oven, and the faint glow of a candle in the corner.
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Ehsan was seated at the table near the window.
In front of him, Zoboriya placed a cup of hot chocolate, its surface topped with whipped cream and a light sprinkle of cocoa powder.
Beside the cup sat a small blueberry muffin, whose fragrance made one forget the cold outside entirely.
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Pulling her shawl tighter, Zoboriya drew out a chair and sat down.
“It’s snowing heavily today… I thought you wouldn’t come.”
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Ehsan gazed at the steam rising from his cup and said softly—
“No matter how cold it is outside… when I come here, I forget everything.”
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Zoboriya smiled, but her eyes carried a faint glimmer of understanding.
There were other customers in the bakery, yet around this table, there seemed to be a different kind of calm.
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For a while, they both sat in silence.
The soft sound of snow falling outside and the gentle hum of the oven inside…
It wasn’t an awkward silence—it was like a warm blanket both of them were wrapped in.
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Ehsan took a sip from his cup, then looked at Zoboriya and said quietly—
“Zoboriya… maybe I can’t forget Gul, but I also don’t want to stay tied to her anymore.”
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In a gentle tone, Zoboriya replied—
“Ehsan, forgetting isn’t always necessary… what matters is that the memory stops hurting.”
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She took a small sip from her cup, then glanced outside—
Across the street, a shadow was slowly making its way toward them through the snow…
A wool cap on the head, gloves on the hands, and a long coat.
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Ehsan followed her gaze toward the window… and his hand froze on the rim of his cup.
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That face…
One he had only seen in memories…
Now stood in the middle of the falling snow.
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Gul.
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Inside, the warmth of the oven filled the bakery, but the glimmer and moisture in Ehsan’s eyes told Zoboriya how deep Gul’s place was in his life.
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Placing her hot chocolate back on the table, Zoboriya softly asked—
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> “Ehsan… you must have a picture of Gul, don’t you?”
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Ehsan looked at her for a moment, then lowered his eyes.
His lips moved slightly, as if touching an old memory before speaking.
From his pocket, he pulled out his old phone—the case worn down, as though it carried years of dust.
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He unlocked the screen, opened the gallery… and after scrolling for a few seconds, stopped.
Every movement of his thumb seemed to weigh heavily on his heart.
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“This…”
He extended the phone toward Zoboriya.
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On the screen was a photo of a girl—
a faint smile, hair tousled by the wind, and eyes holding an innocent sparkle.
Behind her seemed to be a park, and a scarf around her neck fluttered lightly in the breeze.
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Zoboriya stared at the picture.
She could tell this wasn’t just a face—
it was the part of Ehsan’s heartbeat he had never fully given to anyone else.
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In a low voice, she said—
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> “Your eyes… they change the moment you say her name, Ehsan.
Like someone has opened the door to your heart.”
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Taking the phone back, Ehsan exhaled deeply—
“Because Gul lives in that room of my heart… the one I never locked.”
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Outside, the snow began to fall harder.
Zoboriya kept looking past the window… and felt as though, through this snow, the past was slowly finding its way back to the bakery.
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Beyond the bakery’s window, snowflakes swirled in the air before settling to the ground.
Zoboriya was still looking outside when her eyes froze on a shadow—
a long wool coat, a light white scarf around the neck, a hat over the head… and steps sinking slowly into the snow as they moved closer.
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Ehsan followed her gaze.
The coffee cup in his hand stopped midair.
It was as if a cold wave from an old wound had swept across his face.
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> “Gul…”
He said it so softly, as if the name froze in the air as soon as it left his lips.
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Moments later, the bell above the door chimed—
Tring…
and a burst of cold air rushed into the bakery’s warmth.
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There she was—Gul.
Her cheeks were tinged pink from the snow, and her eyes carried countless unspoken words.
She froze as soon as she stepped inside… and her gaze locked directly on Ehsan.
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For a moment, everything else in the bakery vanished—
no customers, no oven’s hum, just three beating hearts.
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Zoboriya glanced at Ehsan.
Surprise and restlessness colored his face, but also a strange stillness—
as if she understood this moment belonged only to Ehsan and Gul, and she would simply be a silent witness.
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Gul stepped closer, stopping by Ehsan’s table.
Her voice was low, yet it carried both an old warmth and a cold regret—
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> “Ehsan… we need to talk.”
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Outside, the snow kept falling,
but inside, the season in the bakery had completely changed.
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The Canadian winter night outside was draped in falling snow.
Through the bakery’s fogged-up windows, the streetlights cast a golden glow over the white streets.
Inside, the warmth of the oven and the scent of freshly baked chocolate cake filled the air.
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From behind the counter, Zoboriya called out—
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> “Ehsan… someone’s here for you.”
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Ehsan looked up absentmindedly—
and it was as if his breath stopped.
There was Gul… the same eyes, the same silence, the same fragrance, as though time had never touched her.
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She tried to smile softly—
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> “Salaam, Ehsan…”
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His lips moved—
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> “Gul…”
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Zoboriya felt that much had already been said in their eyes—things words could never carry.
She quietly brought three cups of coffee to the window table and left them there, stepping away so their silence wouldn’t be disturbed.
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Gul removed her gloves, placing them on the table, and wrapped her hands around the cup, as if seeking courage from its warmth.
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For a few moments, they simply sat in silence.
Then Gul took a deep breath—
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> “You must be wondering… why I’ve come after so many years.”
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Ehsan’s voice was soft and low—
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> “There’s a lot to wonder about, Gul.
Not just one question… a thousand.”
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Gul lowered her gaze.
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> “That day… when I left… I couldn’t tell you everything.
My father was sick, the house was in debt, and my younger siblings were in school.
My uncle… arranged my marriage to a wealthy man.
I knew if I refused, my home… my family… would fall apart.”
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Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t let the tears fall.
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Ehsan looked at the steam rising from his cup, as though hiding his heart’s weight in it.
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> “So… you never chose me, Gul?”
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Gul’s eyes shot up instantly—
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> “No… I didn’t leave you, Ehsan.
I left myself… so my family could survive.
Forgetting you… was like dying for me.”
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For a moment, they just looked at each other.
Outside, the snow fell faster, but inside, time had frozen.
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Ehsan exhaled slowly—
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> “Gul… I never cursed you.
But I never thought you’d return like this either.”
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Gul’s lips trembled—
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> “Maybe I’m too late…
but I wanted to see if you’re okay… if you’re happy.”
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Ehsan gave a faint, pained smile—
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> “Happy? Maybe… I’ve learned to live without you.
But your memory… never left.”
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Her eyes filled.
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> “If I had stayed that day…?”
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Ehsan looked deep into her eyes—
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> “Then maybe today, we’d be living another story…
But Gul… our story ended that day.”
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Silently, Gul placed her cup on the table, put on her gloves, and said in a low voice—
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> “Khuda Hafiz, Ehsan…”
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As she walked to the door, his eyes followed her steps.
The door opened, a rush of cold wind and snowflakes entered, and Gul disappeared into the hazy snowfall.
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Zoboriya quietly came over, placed a hot coffee in front of him, and softly said—
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> “Some people return only to say goodbye… so we can finally move forward.”
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Ehsan lifted the cup, but his eyes were still fixed on that door.
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After Gul left, the oven’s warmth and the aroma of coffee returned to the bakery,
but it felt as though cold air had frozen inside Ehsan’s heart.
He sat quietly in his chair, stirring his coffee,
but didn’t take a single sip.
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Zoboriya pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.
For a while, she too said nothing—just watched him.
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> “The pain of the heart is strange, Ehsan,”
she finally said,
“It does heal, but it leaves scars.”
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Ehsan smiled faintly, but it carried exhaustion.
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> “Maybe… those scars remind us that we truly loved someone.”
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Zoboriya took a sip from her cup, then said—
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> “Gul is gone… but your life is still here.
You’ve built something, you’re standing on your own…
and most importantly—you’re not alone.
I’m here, and I’ll stay… as a friend.”
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Ehsan looked into her eyes—there was no lie, no greed, no hidden hope… just the promise of true friendship.
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> “Thank you, Zoboriya.
Today… you kept me from falling.”
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She chuckled softly—
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> “Oh, I let people fall sometimes… but I don’t let them break.”
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Outside, the snow was still falling,
but inside… by the bakery’s window sat two friends—
One who had lost love,
and the other who simply wanted to help her friend learn to smile again.
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and then Add to home screen.