When the Rooftop Remembered Her

Moha sat gently on Ridan’s lap, her body snug against his. Ridan’s hand slowly wandered across her waist, fingers tracing soft circles—until it didn’t. Moha suddenly clenched his hand, halting its motion. Without protest, Ridan stilled his hand and buried his face into the curve of her neck. A shiver of delight rushed down Moha’s spine at his touch—her fingers now gripped his hand even tighter.

Still resting his face against her neck, Ridan whispered, “So, Moonlight Muse, have you had enough? Or should we stay on the rooftop a little longer?”

In a trembling voice, Moha replied, “It’s enough…”

With that, Ridan led her back into the room.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked gently.

Moha nodded, her head lowered. “Hmm.”

“Alright then, let’s get some rest,” Ridan said with a soft smile as he lay down on the bed.

The moment Moha lay beside him, Ridan pulled her close in a sudden tug and without a word, captured her lips. Startled at first, Moha’s body tensed—but the warmth of his touch soon melted her resistance. She let herself surrender to the kiss. Minutes passed before Ridan broke away, gasping softly for air, then murmured:

“Sleep.”

Moha’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Her breathing was just as uneven. But eventually, they both drifted off, lost in the quiet of the night.

Flashback 💮

“In this city of selfishness, love feels like a misfit. In the city of my love, selfishness feels like a curse,” Moha whispered as she gazed up at the overcast sky. Cloudy skies always stirred something in her—a familiar longing, a cascade of thoughts she could never quite voice. Today was no different.

Her mother’s call pulled her back to reality.

“Moha.”

“Yes, Ma?”

“The groom’s family is coming to see you tomorrow. They’ll probably arrive by the afternoon. Be ready, okay?”

“…Alright, Ma,” Moha replied, lowering her head.

With Moha’s quiet answer, her mother walked away. She had preparations to make—guests needed proper hosting. Moha remained seated on her bed, lost in thought.

What would tomorrow bring?

Would the groom be kind?

Would they even like her?

A hundred questions clouded her mind.

Moha was a quiet, soft-spoken girl—simple, reserved. She didn’t speak much, always shy, always calm. She had just finished her HSC exams. Her complexion was dusky, but everyone said she was beautiful—her long, expressive eyes, sharp nose, and round face gave her an elegant charm. Her world consisted of her mother and older sister. Her parents divorced when she was just seven. Since then, her father had vanished from their lives—no calls, no support.

Her mother ran a small clothing shop, and it was the only thing that kept the family going. Without it, they wouldn’t survive. Her father never cared to ask. So, one day, Moha and her sister, Mohona, decided that in their lives, their father was dead. Whenever people asked, that’s what they told them. Their mother resisted at first, but eventually, she couldn’t argue with the pain her daughters carried.

Why should they keep a bond with someone who had abandoned them?

Mohona, her sister, got married two years ago and was now four months pregnant. She lived a good life at her in-laws’.

🌙 To Be Continued...

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