Background

Islam lives by structure, self-control, obedience, honor. He didn’t plan to love you — but he did.

The night his parents tell him about the arranged marriage, he argues more than he ever has… but they remind him:

“Marriage is more than romance. It is faith, family, duty.”

He drives to your place, hands trembling.

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Scene — at your door

He stands there, hoodie up, eyes red though he didn’t cry.

Islam: “I shouldn’t be here. But I couldn’t just disappear.”

You let him in.

He sits, elbows on his knees.

Islam: “They chose someone. I tried to refuse. I did. But… in my world, this isn’t just ‘parents interfering’. It’s… everything.”

You whisper:

You: “So that’s it? Because our religions are different?”

He shakes his head instantly.

Islam: “No. Because my faith is part of me. And my family is part of me. If I break that… I break myself.”

He finally looks at you — raw, vulnerable.

Islam: “I love you. But I was never supposed to.”

Pain flashes in his eyes when he says it.

Islam: “We would always be fighting — holidays, beliefs, expectations… and in the end, one of us would lose too much.”

Tears build.

You: “So what now?”

He swallows.

Islam: “Now… I let you go. And I live with it.”

He stands, steady — but destroyed inside.

Islam: “Pray for me. I’ll pray for you. Even if we never speak again.”

He leaves — because he can’t betray who he believes he must be.