Mustafa's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white against the worn leather. The night was quiet except for the low hum of his car engine, but inside him, a storm raged.

Her words echoed in his head.

*"You aren't my husband anymore..."*

*"I wish I had never asked you to marry me."*

A bitter chuckle left his lips as he shook his head. How foolish he had been to hope. How foolish to think that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't lost her completely.

She had every right to hate him.

Every right to never look at him again.

He had hurt the only person who had ever cared for him. His Sharjeena—the girl who loved so deeply, who always put her heart into everything—he had taken that love and crushed it in his hands.

She had suffered alone, while he had drowned in his own selfish silence.

Didn't he deserve this?

Didn't he deserve to be left behind?

Yet... why did his heart feel like it was being ripped apart?

His chest ached, an unbearable weight pressing against it. He could take the pain. He could endure it if it meant she could be free.

She should move on.

She deserved a life full of love, laughter, and everything beautiful. She was just like a star—always glowing, always shining, even when the darkness threatened to swallow her whole.

*"She deserves the world."*

His lips parted slightly, exhaling deeply, as if releasing his last remaining hope.

*"If only the universe would give me the strength to walk away from her life forever."*

And maybe... just maybe...

It had heard his plea.

---

The blinding headlights came out of nowhere.

Mustafa didn't register the truck until it was too late.

A deafening crash rang through the night as metal twisted and shattered upon impact. His body jerked violently, his head slamming against the side window as the car spun out of control.

The pain was immediate—a sharp, searing sensation shooting through his ribs. Glass rained around him, slicing his skin, the world tilting and turning as his car tumbled off the road.

His vision blurred.

Everything was distant—the muffled sounds of screeching tires, the distant echoes of shouts, the scent of burning rubber filling his lungs.

He could feel his body growing heavy, cold seeping into his bones. His fingers twitched slightly, but even that felt impossible now.

*"Is this it?"*

The irony wasn't lost on him.

The moment he had decided to walk away, fate had chosen to rip him away instead.

Maybe this was better.

Maybe this was how it was supposed to end.

His eyes fluttered shut for a brief second, and in the darkness, he saw *her*.

Sharjeena.

Smiling at him the way she used to. Laughing in that soft, melodic way that had always been his favorite sound.

He could see their happy moments—her scolding him when he teased her, her pouting when he stole food from her plate, the way she used to fall asleep on his shoulder when she was tired.

A weak, broken smile tugged at his lips.

*"Maybe... just maybe... she will live happily now."*

And with that last thought, the world around him faded into nothingness.