Her breath caught in her throat. “Me?”

“You gave me hope, Zainab. Your strength, your spirit, your laughter—it brought me back to life. I may not be able to give you riches or a grand house, but I can promise you love and respect.”

Tears slipped down Zainab’s cheeks. In that moment, she realized the truth: the past didn’t matter. The present, their shared moments, their unexpected love—that’s what mattered.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “Your past doesn’t scare me, Yusha. We all have scars.”