His name was Navin. He had kind eyes and an awkward laugh. He was nothing like Zubair.
We started out as friends. Talking over coffee. Swapping books.
Laughing about how we were both “bad at relationships.”
But slowly, it turned into more. He knew my whole story. I didn’t hide any of it.
And he still showed up. We’d walk in the park every Sunday. One afternoon, I looked over at him, and he had this look like I was the only person in the world.
And for the first time in a long time… I believed it.
