(Chapter eight – Ibtisam)
I waited just outside the hospital gates, fingers tapping the steering wheel, the engine beneath me humming with a rhythm that felt too alive, too hopeful. It sounded like a heartbeat. My heartbeat, maybe. Or his. Or both. Either way, I couldn't sit still. I kept glancing at the hospital entrance, scanning every figure that walked out like I was waiting for someone from a dream. Someone I wasn't even sure I had the right to wait for.
It was ridiculous how nervous I felt. This wasn't our first meeting. Wasn't even our first ride. But it felt like one. Like a date. Like some new, fragile beginning neither of us had the language to name yet. Which was dumb, right? Because it was just a ride. Just me picking up Saal.
But nothing about him had ever been just anything.
And then there he was.
Limping through the sliding doors, head down, hoodie swallowing his frame. One duffel bag slung over his shoulder, a stack of discharge papers in the other. His hair was messy in a way that looked soft. His skin paler than I remembered. His face... God, his face looked like someone who had finally outrun a storm—bruised, quiet, free.
He saw me immediately. No hesitation. Like he already knew I'd be there. I didn't wave. Just lifted my chin, silent invitation.
He slid into the passenger seat, wincing slightly as he adjusted himself.
"You stole this car?" he asked, voice dry.
"I own this car," I replied, already peeling away from the curb.
"Right. That makes it way less terrifying."
I smirked and floored it. The city disappeared behind us in a blur of lights and shrinking noise. I drove like I needed to shake off everything. Like the past couldn't catch me if I kept going fast enough. Out here, the roads curved like secrets, and the sky was wide, honest, infinite.
Saal squinted at me, side-eyed. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
"I just got discharged. Can we not make today the day I die for real?"
"No promises," I said—and drove faster.
We reached the lot just as the sun started bruising the horizon. Dust curled around the tires of muscle cars, modified beasts, and adrenaline-chasing daredevils. The crowd buzzed. Loud music shook the earth beneath our feet. It was chaos. Beautiful, reckless chaos.
Saal took it all in, blinking like he couldn't believe it. "You brought me to a car drift tournament?"
"Consider it rehab," I grinned.
He laughed. Really laughed. Deep and from the gut. "You're insane."
"And you're in love with me."
That stopped him.
He froze for a second. One heartbeat. Maybe two.
I pretended not to notice and walked ahead, vanishing into the crowd before he could say anything back.
---
My fingers curled around the wheel of one of my older builds—a matte-black demon of a car that hadn't touched a track since I decided I wanted to be "better." More proper. More...senator's daughter. But today, none of that mattered.
Today, I wasn't the girl with scars. Or the addict in recovery. Or the shame of a political dynasty.
Today, I was fire.
The engine roared to life like it had missed me.
Saal stood off to the side, arms folded, watching like he was witnessing a miracle. There was something reverent in his stare—like I was sacred. Untouchable. Free.
The countdown started.
I tightened my grip.
Three...
Two...
One—
And I flew.
The first turn felt like a scream I'd been holding in. Tires burned against the asphalt. Smoke hissed behind me. Wind clawed at my face like it wanted to wake me up. For those few minutes, I wasn't broken. I wasn't Ibtisam.
I was speed.
I was fury.
I was alive.
I came to a stop in a swirl of tire smoke and cheers.
Saal was already waiting. "You're terrifying," he said, wide-eyed.
I jumped out of the car, breathless. Grinning. Alive. "Still in love with me?"
He didn't answer.
He just smiled.
Later, behind the bleachers—far from the crowds, the fuel, the noise—we found silence. A small kind. A heavy one.
I leaned against the cold metal, sweat clinging to my skin, heartbeat still echoing from the track. Saal sat on a stack of tires, hoodie hood down, legs outstretched.
"You're glowing," he said.
I shrugged. "Adrenaline."
"No. Something else."
That silence again. The kind that bends time.
I stepped toward him. Slow. Deliberate.
"If I kissed you right now," I whispered, "would you stop me?"
He didn't even blink. "Not even if it killed me."
I didn't hesitate.
Our mouths met in a collision—fast, electric, inevitable. Like thunder finding lightning. Like two broken things learning how to burn the right way.
His lips were soft. Real. And scared. My hands fisted in his hoodie. His fingers brushed my waist like I was glass.
When we pulled away, the world roared back. Louder. Sharper. Too much.
He rested his forehead on mine. Our breaths tangled.
"I didn't know," he whispered, "that kissing you would feel like this."
"Like what?"
"Like dying...and coming back at the same time."
And right then, I knew:
I wouldn't survive losing him.
Saal
My heart didn't calm after the kiss. It wasn't just the kiss. It was her. The look in her eyes. The way she held my hand afterward—like she believed I'd stay. Like she had no idea I was already leaving her slowly. Quietly.
We sat there, her fingers in mine. Gravel under our feet. The world spinning, but we were still.
"I used to come here with Asad," she said suddenly. "He taught me how to drift. Made me feel invincible."
"You miss him?"
"Sometimes."
"You miss who you were with him?"
She shook her head. "No. That girl was loud... but empty."
I squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.
I stood. Too fast. The world tilted.
She caught my arm. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just stood too quick."
She didn't believe me. I could see it in her eyes. But she let it go.
She didn't see the blood on my palm.
The drive home was quiet. But full. We didn't need words. Not after everything.
She parked outside my house. Didn't shut off the engine.
"Want me to come in?" she asked.
I looked at her. Really looked. Her face glowing in the dim light. More beautiful than I'd ever admit out loud.
"Not tonight," I said.
She nodded. No questions. No push.
I kissed her cheek. Got out. Closed the door.
She didn't drive off until I disappeared behind the front
door.
And once I was alone, I collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, the metallic taste of blood coating my tongue.
I was in love.
And dying.
And she still didn't know.