[A WEEK LATER]

  ***********

  Meesha's day had been filled with the glare of camera lights and the constant chatter of the photo crew, but as the shoot wrapped up, she couldn't shake off the feeling of emptiness. She asked her bodyguards and driver to leave, wanting some time alone. Donning a nose mask to conceal her identity, she hailed a taxi and headed to the cemetery.

  As the taxi wound its way through the streets, Meesha leaned her head against the window, gazing out at the passing scenery. Her thoughts drifted to her parents, and a pang of longing struck her heart. She missed them terribly, and the pain of their loss still lingered, even after all these years. They had died when she was just five years old, and the weight of that memory still bore down on her.

  A tear rolled down her cheek, but she hastily wiped it away, trying to compose herself. The taxi finally came to a stop in front of the cemetery gates. Meesha thanked the driver, paid the fare, and stepped out into the quiet, stillness of the graveyard.

  The silence enveloped her like a shroud, and Meesha felt her heart grow heavy. She walked along the winding paths, her feet carrying her towards the graves of her parents. The headstones stood side by side, a poignant reminder of the love and laughter they had shared. Meesha's eyes welled up with tears as she gazed at the photos etched into the stone.

  She knelt before the graves, her hands reaching out to touch the familiar names. The floodgates of her emotions threatened to burst, but she struggled to hold back the tears. Time seemed to stand still as she knelt there, lost in thought, her heart aching with grief.

  And then, like a specter from the past, the memories came flooding back. Meesha remembered the day her parents died, the circumstances that had led to the tragedy. The weight of her guilt crushed her, and she felt the sting of tears as she relived the pain of that fateful day.

  Meesha knelt in the darkness of the graveyard, the silence broken only by the sound of her own ragged breathing. Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind her, and her heart skipped a beat. She rose to her feet, her eyes scanning the shadows until they landed on Xanqer's towering figure.

  As he approached, Meesha felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was short-lived. Xanqer's eyes narrowed, his voice laced with concern. "What are you doing here so late at night? Don't you know how dangerous it is?"

  Meesha's gaze dropped, her thoughts still consumed by the memories of her parents.

  Her lips trembled, and tears began to fall like rain, streaming down her face as she looked down. The sobs came harder, wracking her body with a grief so intense it seemed to suffocate her. Xanqer's expression became puzzled by her tears. "What's wrong? Why are you suddenly crying?"

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Meesha's eyes met Xanqer's, her face wet with tears. Her voice shook with sobs as she whispered, "Xanqer, my parents... they died all because of me." The words hung in the air like a challenge, daring Xanqer to contradict her.

  Xanqer's eyebrow arched. "They died because of you?"

  Meesha nodded, the memories flooding back like a tidal wave. She took a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a sorrowful cascade.

  "When I was five, my mom usually hid the lighters from me. But I got curious, and I wanted to know what it was. I took the lighter and turned it on. Then, a fire ignited suddenly, and I got scared and threw it on the carpet. The carpet got on fire, and I panicked and didn't know what to do. Instead of telling my parents about it, I decided to keep it to myself to avoid getting into trouble."

  Meesha's voice cracked, the tears flowing freely as she relived the horror. "Then I tried to stop the fire, but it got bigger and bigger. The fire went onto the walls, and it spread everywhere. I ran out of the room and into the living room. My parents had perceived the smoke from outside and rushed in. The fire had already reached the living room too by then. And they managed to help me escape from the house. But they couldn't save themselves... it was too late."

  The words died on Meesha's lips, her body shaking with sobs. Xanqer's arms enveloped her, holding her close as she wept. Meesha's mind was a maelstrom of pain, guilt, and sadness, the memories of that terrible day seared into her soul like a branding iron.

  She remembered standing outside the house, watching in horror as the flames consumed it, her parents trapped inside. The helplessness, the despair, and the anguish had been suffocating, leaving her with scars that would never fully heal.

  As she cried, Xanqer didn't know what to do. He could only say; "You don't have to blame yourself for it. It's already in the past."

  But Meesha's guilt and pain were too deeply entrenched, and she couldn't help but whisper, shaking her head. "They died all because of me..."

  Xanqer raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her hair – he deemed her pitiful. Meesha's tears continued to flow, a torrent of sorrow that seemed to have no end. Xanqer held her close, his hand stroking her hair.

  Meesha's tears flowed like a river as she cried for what felt like an eternity in Xanqer's embracing arms. The warmth of his body and the gentle pressure of his hands on her back seemed to offer a sense of comfort and security, allowing her to release the pent-up emotions that had been weighing her down.

  Finally, she finally began to calm down, and with a sniffle, she detached herself from Xanqer's embrace. She wiped her face with her palms, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She gazed down at Xanqer's jacket, which was stained with her tears, and her face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, sorry about that," she muttered, feeling a pang of regret.

  Xanqer's expression was understanding, and he replied, "I'll just take it off." Meesha nodded, watching as Xanqer slipped off his jacket, revealing a crisp white shirt underneath.

  As he did, Meesha realized she needed to blow her nose. But she didn't have a handkerchief. She looked up at Xanqer, feeling a bit shy, and asked, "Xanqer, do you have a handkerchief? I need to blow my nose."

  Xanqer replied, "No," but then he added, "Use this instead," and tossed his jacket at her.

  Meesha was taken aback that Xanqer would offer her his jacket to blow her nose. She smiled up at him, feeling a sense of gratitude. "Thank you."

  Xanqer nodded and turned to walk away. "Meet me in the car."

  Meesha blew her nose with Xanqer's jacket, feeling a bit silly but also relieved. As she blew her nose, Xanqer looked back at her, his eyebrow raised. "You can keep it," he said. Meesha's eyes lit up, and she nodded, still holding the jacket to her nose. She smiled, feeling a sense of joy, and continued blowing her nose.

  After she finished, Meesha folded the jacket, inhaling the scent that lingered on the fabric. It smelled like Xanqer, unique blend of leather, wood, and something else that was distinctly him. She felt a flutter in her chest as she tucked the jacket into her bag and ran to catch up with Xanqer.

  As she fell into step beside him, Meesha asked, "Xanqer, why did you come looking for me?" Her face lit up with excitement. "Do you really have feelings for me this time?"