Mehreen had always loved old things.

Old houses.

Old letters.

Old songs.

And books whose pages had turned yellow with time.

She believed that old things didn’t only carry dust.

They carried stories.

Perhaps that was why, while everyone else searched for something new, Mehreen found her world among forgotten books.

That evening, she was sitting in her grandmother’s old library.

Rain was falling outside.

Heavy drops tapped continuously against the window glass.

The room smelled of old wood and books.

Mehreen turned the last page of the book in her hands.

It was a very old book.

The golden letters on its cover had almost faded away.

She was about to close it when something white slipped from between the pages and fell onto the floor.

Mehreen frowned.

“What is this?”

She picked up the envelope.

There was no stamp on it.

No address.

Only one name was written across the front.

“For Mehreen.”

Her heartbeat suddenly stopped.

She sat down slowly.

The handwriting was old.

The ink had faded in some places.

But her name was perfectly clear.

Mehreen.

The name her grandmother had always spoken with so much love.

She carefully opened the envelope.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

Mehreen began to read.

“If this letter has reached Mehreen, then perhaps it is already too late. But some truths are so important that they must be discovered, no matter how much time has passed.”

Mehreen’s fingers began to tremble.

She read the next line.

“Mehreen, you must find someone you have never known. He will give you the answer to the greatest question of your life. But remember… not everyone who tries to come close to you is your enemy.”

Mehreen held her breath.

Then she read the final line.

“Find the one whose eyes always carry the rain.”

That was it.

The letter ended there.

Mehreen stared at the paper for a long time.

Then she read it again.

And again.

“What kind of joke is this?”

She whispered to herself.

But deep inside, she knew it wasn’t a joke.

The letter had been hidden inside her grandmother’s book.

And her grandmother had been dead for almost three years.

Mehreen carefully folded the letter.

Just then, the door opened.

“Mehreen!”

Her best friend, Zareen, walked into the library.

Mehreen quickly hid the letter in her hand.

Zareen noticed.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Zareen narrowed her eyes.

“You’re hiding something from me.”

Mehreen tried to smile.

“Why would I hide anything from you?”

“Because whenever you lie, you raise your right eyebrow.”

Mehreen immediately straightened her face.

Zareen burst out laughing.

“See!”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Okay. Tell me what you found.”

Mehreen thought for a moment.

Then she placed the letter in front of her.

Zareen began reading.

As she reached the end, the color slowly disappeared from her face.

Mehreen watched her carefully.

“You know something?”

Zareen immediately put the letter down.

“No.”

“Zareen.”

“I said no.”

Mehreen remained silent.

But she didn’t believe her.

There was something in Zareen’s eyes.

A fear she was desperately trying to hide.

“Did you ever hear my grandmother talk about someone like this?”

Zareen looked away.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Mehreen picked up the letter.

“Then I have to find him.”

Zareen immediately looked at her.

“Find who?”

“The man whose eyes always carry the rain.”

Zareen’s face suddenly went pale.

Mehreen noticed.

“Zareen?”

“Mehreen…”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Mehreen put the letter inside her bag.

“I’m going into the city tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“There’s an old bookstore.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s a name written at the bottom of the letter.”

Zareen’s eyes widened.

“What name?”

Mehreen finally said it.

“Dar-ul-Kutub.”

Zareen immediately grabbed her hand.

“Mehreen, don’t go there.”

Mehreen stared at her.

“Why?”

“Just don’t.”

“But why?”

Zareen remained silent.

Mehreen slowly pulled her hand away.

“Now I’m definitely going.”

---

The next day, the sky was covered with gray clouds.

Mehreen stood in a narrow street in the oldest part of the city.

In front of her stood an old bookstore.

Dar-ul-Kutub.

A wooden sign hung above the entrance.

Mehreen took a deep breath.

Then she walked inside.

The bookstore was dimly lit.

Books filled every wall.

Mehreen looked around, searching for the owner.

“Hello?”

No one answered.

She walked farther inside.

Suddenly, she collided with someone.

The books in her hands fell to the floor.

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry.”

Mehreen froze.

It was a man’s voice.

She slowly looked up.

And stopped.

His eyes were strange.

Deep.

Quiet.

Sad.

It looked as though there was actually rain trapped inside them.

Mehreen stared at him for a moment.

He was staring at her too.

Then he bent down and began picking up her books.

“Are you okay?”

Mehreen quickly looked away.

“Yes.”

He looked at her.

“You apologize for everything?”

Mehreen frowned.

“No.”

“You just did.”

“That was different.”

“How was it different?”

Mehreen looked at him.

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you get angry too quickly.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Then why does your face look like rain?”

Mehreen went silent.

She immediately looked at him.

The man smiled slightly.

Something suddenly occurred to her.

Eyes that carry the rain.

The words from the letter.

Mehreen studied him carefully.

“What’s your name?”

“Arslan.”

Her heart suddenly beat faster.

Arslan.

The name felt strangely familiar.

“Do you work here?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“When the owner allows me to come.”

“Who is the owner?”

“My father.”

Mehreen looked surprised.

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

Arslan’s smile disappeared.

“He isn’t here.”

Mehreen fell silent.

“I’m sorry.”

Arslan didn’t answer.

Mehreen noticed that sadness returning to his eyes.

She felt something inside her change.

“I am looking for a book.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know its name.”

Arslan looked at her.

“Then how will you find it?”

“I hope you’ll help me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll find it myself.”

For the first time, Arslan smiled properly.

“You’re strange.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still, thank you.”

Mehreen turned toward the shelves.

Arslan watched her.

Then his eyes fell on the envelope in her hand.

His entire expression changed.

“Where did you get that?”

Mehreen stopped.

She looked at the envelope.

Then at Arslan.

“This?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know it?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

Mehreen stepped closer.

“You know it?”

Arslan looked away.

“Leave.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“What?”

“I said leave.”

“Why?”

“Just go.”

“But—”

“Who gave you that letter?”

Mehreen became silent.

“I found it in my grandmother’s book.”

Arslan’s face suddenly turned pale.

“Your grandmother’s name?”

“Noshin Begum.”

Arslan froze.

Mehreen stared at him.

“You know her?”

He didn’t answer.

“Arslan?”

He suddenly stepped closer.

His face was serious now.

“You should never have found that letter.”

Mehreen’s heart began beating faster.

“Why?”

Arslan looked into her eyes.

“Because the truth you’re searching for…”

He paused.

“…will change your entire life.”

Mehreen stared at him.

“And you know the truth?”

Arslan remained silent.

“You do, don’t you?”

He stepped back.

“Don’t come here again.”

“I will.”

“Mehreen!”

She froze.

It was the first time he had said her name.

There was desperation in his voice.

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Their eyes met.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then Arslan lowered his eyes.

“I don’t want you to suffer what I suffered.”

Mehreen’s heart tightened.

“Maybe I’m stronger than you think.”

Arslan looked at her.

“No.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I do.”

Mehreen froze.

“What does that mean?”

Arslan said nothing.

Mehreen stepped closer.

“How do you know me?”

Arslan finally looked at her.

“I didn’t see you for the first time today.”

Mehreen’s heart stopped.

“Then when?”

“Fifteen years ago.”

“What?”

“You were very young.”

“Where did you see me?”

Arslan looked away.

“At a funeral.”

Mehreen’s expression changed.

“Whose funeral?”

Arslan slowly looked at her.

“My father’s.”

Mehreen’s breath caught.

“Your father?”

Arslan nodded.

“And your grandmother…”

He stopped.

“She knew my father.”

“How?”

Arslan didn’t answer.

Mehreen’s voice trembled.

“Did my grandmother have something to do with your father’s death?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?”

“You shouldn’t know all this.”

“I need to know!”

“Why?”

“Because this is my life!”

Arslan fell silent.

Mehreen’s eyes filled with tears.

“You know something about me.”

She stepped closer.

“You knew my grandmother.”

Another step.

“There was a secret between your father and my grandmother.”

She held up the letter.

“And this letter…”

She stopped.

“This letter is part of that secret.”

Arslan closed his eyes.

Mehreen whispered:

“Isn’t it?”

Arslan opened his eyes.

“Yes.”

Mehreen’s heart sank.

“Then tell me the truth.”

“Not yet.”

“When?”

“When the time is right.”

“And when will that be?”

Arslan looked at her.

There was something incredibly soft in his eyes.

“When you learn to trust me.”

Mehreen gave a bitter smile.

“I don’t even know you.”

Arslan quietly replied:

“Maybe your heart does.”

Mehreen became silent.

For the first time, she felt something strange.

Something she couldn’t name.

Arslan stepped closer.

“Mehreen…”

“Yes?”

“If you ever feel that I’m walking away from you…”

He paused.

“Believe me, I’m not.”

“Then?”

His eyes filled with pain.

“I’ll be trying to keep you away from me to protect you.”

“Sometimes love isn’t about coming closer. Sometimes love is enduring the distance you create yourself because you are afraid that the person you love will get hurt.”

Something inside Mehreen broke.

Or perhaps…

Something had just begun.

She quietly walked out of the bookstore.

Arslan watched her leave.

When she reached the door, she turned around.

Their eyes met.

Mehreen felt it then.

This meeting wasn’t an accident.

She stepped outside.

Rain had started falling again.

Mehreen looked up at the sky.

She remembered the final line of the letter.

“Find the one whose eyes always carry the rain.”

She whispered:

“I found you, Arslan.”

But she didn’t know…

The person she had been searching for had already been part of her life.

And the biggest secret was…

Arslan had not first seen her fifteen years ago.

He had known her long before that.

Because on the night Mehreen was born…

Her mother had written a letter to Arslan’s father.

The same letter.

The one that had reached Mehreen’s hands fifteen years later.

And at the bottom of that letter were the words:

“If my daughter ever meets your son, don’t tell her the truth… not until she has fallen in love with him herself.”

Arslan held the letter tightly in his hands.

Tears filled his eyes.

He knew it.

Mehreen had returned to his life.

And this time…

He couldn’t lose her.

But there was an even bigger question.

Why had Mehreen’s mother written that letter fifteen years ago?

And what did Arslan’s father’s death have to do with Mehreen’s family?

That night, when Mehreen returned home, she found another envelope beneath her bedroom door.

Only three words were written on it.

“Don’t trust Arslan.”

Mehreen opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

An old photograph.

It showed Mehreen’s grandmother standing beside Arslan’s father.

And between them…

There was a third man.

Mehreen brought the photograph closer.

Her hands suddenly went cold.

Because the man in the photograph…

Was her father.

And written on the back of the photograph was a date.

Fifteen years ago.

Mehreen’s heart began pounding.

One question echoed inside her mind.

“What has my family been hiding from me?”

And somewhere across the city…

Arslan sat alone with the same letter in his hands.

He knew Mehreen was getting dangerously close to the truth.

And when the truth finally came out…

It wouldn’t be just one secret standing between them.

It would change everything.

“Some love stories don’t begin with the first meeting. They begin the moment two strangers discover that their paths had already been connected years before they ever found each other.”