Beyond the game

The night air felt colder than it should as Yuzarsif stood before Azra's apartment, his hand still resting on the doorframe. The gap between them, emotionally and physically, had grown far too wide for comfort. He hadn't been prepared for this—the wall she had built between them, nor the heaviness in her eyes when she opened the door.

Azra didn't invite him in. She didn't even greet him. There was no warmth, only the cold, sharp reality of their past. Her eyes were tired, her face drawn in a way he hadn't seen in years. She looked like a woman who had been through a storm and was still trying to find her way back to herself.

"You shouldn't be here," Azra said, her voice low but firm. She hadn't yet fully closed the door, but she wasn't letting him in either.

Yuzarsif didn't retreat. He couldn't. His feet felt as if they were rooted to the ground by the weight of the truth he had to confront, the truth he had avoided for far too long. "Azra, please. We need to talk."

Her eyes darkened. "Talk? About what? About how you deceived me? About how everything between us was just a game, a bet for you?"

Yuzarsif's heart clenched at the accusation. "I didn't want to hurt you. I never wanted it to be this way." He took a step forward, careful not to invade her space. "I want to explain."

Azra's lips tightened, and she shook her head, her voice hardening. "I trusted you, Yuzarsif. I really did. But you lied to me about everything. Our entire relationship was based on a lie. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

The question hung in the air between them, an accusation, a plea for an answer that Yuzarsif had avoided for so long.

He exhaled sharply, his mind scrambling for the right words. He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew that nothing would take away the pain he had caused. "I didn't know how to tell you," Yuzarsif admitted quietly. "I was scared. Scared of losing you. I should have told you earlier, but I didn't... I didn't know how."

Azra's face contorted with emotion, a mixture of hurt and disbelief. "You didn't know how? You didn't know how to tell me the truth about the very foundation of our relationship? That it started as a bet?" Her voice cracked with the weight of her own pain. "Did you really think I wouldn't care? Did you think I wouldn't be angry?"

Yuzarsif's heart dropped, the guilt consuming him more than ever. He had failed her in ways he never thought he could, and no words could fix that.

"I know I messed up. I know I made a terrible mistake," Yuzarsif continued, stepping closer but still maintaining a careful distance. "But you have to believe me when I say that I never intended to hurt you. I fell for you, Azra. It wasn't just a bet. The feelings I had for you were real. They still are. I love you."

Azra stood frozen, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as if to protect herself from the truth that was coming at her too fast. Her mind was racing, torn between the love she once felt for him and the betrayal that now clouded her heart.

"You really think I can just forget everything?" she asked, her voice trembling, but not from weakness—rather from the strain of holding back everything she wanted to say. "You think I can just forget that you lied to me about who you are? About the reason you came into my life in the first place?"

Yuzarsif's voice softened, regret filling his every word. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. I didn't deserve your trust back then. But I need you to know the truth now. I couldn't stand living with the lies anymore."

Azra's heart wrenched at his words. She was angry, so angry at the lies he had told her, at the way he had used her, but beneath the anger, there was still a part of her that had never stopped loving him. That part of her had been quiet, buried beneath years of resentment, but it was there.

She wanted to shout at him, to tell him to leave, to never come back. But the words stuck in her throat. All the pain, all the broken trust, had worn her down. She didn't know if she had the strength to hate him anymore.

Yuzarsif's eyes searched hers, full of pain, regret, and something else—something he could barely put into words. "I know I can't change the past," he said softly. "But I need you to know that I've regretted it every day since. You weren't just part of some bet. I loved you, Azra. I love you still. And I would give anything to go back and do it differently."

Azra's chest tightened. She wanted to say something—anything—but her voice failed her. Tears stung her eyes, not from anger, but from the overwhelming flood of emotions that had built up over the years. She had hated him for what he did, but deep down, she had never stopped caring for him. Not for a single moment.

And just as the floodgates of emotion seemed ready to break, Asna's voice pierced through the delicate silence. "Yuzarsif," she said sharply, stepping into the doorway with a confident stride, her presence undeniably assertive. "What are you doing here?"

Azra's heart dropped, the fragile resolve she had been clinging to suddenly slipping from her fingers as she turned her gaze toward Asna. Her blood boiled as she saw her standing there—so calm, so collected, like she had every right to be part of this moment.

Asna's gaze locked with Azra's, a flash of something in her eyes that Azra couldn't quite place. "I'm talking to Azra," Yuzarsif replied, his tone no longer as gentle as it had been. His voice was steady, but there was something in the way he said it, something that gave away an edge of frustration that Azra hadn't expected.

Azra's breath caught in her throat. The sight of Asna standing there with him, with Yuzarsif, the man who had once been everything to her, felt like a betrayal—though she knew deep down it was not Asna's fault. Still, it felt like an intrusion. An assault on what little hope she had left.

"You're still doing this?" Azra's voice was sharp as she glared at Asna, her jealousy bubbling to the surface despite herself. "You think you can just walk in here and take his side?"

Asna didn't flinch. "I'm not taking sides, Azra," she said coolly, stepping a little closer to Yuzarsif, her hand brushing against his in a way that felt too familiar. "I just don't want you to make a mistake. You know what he's like. And I know you. Don't do this to yourself."

Azra's chest tightened, her fists clenching at her sides as the feelings she had fought so hard to suppress broke free. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You think I can't handle the truth, Asna? You think I don't know what's best for me? You think I need you to come in and fix everything?"

Yuzarsif's eyes shifted between Azra and Asna, sensing the tension in the air, but he said nothing. His expression was unreadable, torn between wanting to console Azra and not wanting to cause more harm.

Asna crossed her arms, her stance unyielding. "Azra, you're not listening. I'm just trying to help you."

"Help me?" Azra spat, her voice rising with frustration. "No. You want him, Asna. You always have. You don't get to pretend like you're the better choice. I'm not a fool."

Asna's calmness didn't falter. "I'm not trying to take anything from you, Azra," she said, her words cutting through the air. "I'm trying to keep you from making a mistake."

Azra was shaking with anger now, the jealousy clouding her judgment. Her heart felt like it was being ripped in two—part of her still wanted Yuzarsif back, still yearned for him despite everything, but seeing Asna there with him, so poised and confident, was too much. The betrayal felt fresh again, as if the pain of the past had never really left.

With a final glance at the two of them—Yuzarsif still standing there, the man who had lied to her, and Asna, who had stepped into her life too easily—Azra closed the door between them, not with an angry slam but with the resignation of someone who knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

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