City of Eyes

Sara was a successful psychologist — cheerful on the outside, but quietly carrying a hollow space within her. Every day, she healed others' emotional wounds, yet her own soul remained untouched, haunted by a secret she had buried deep inside.

Then one day, Ayaan walked into her clinic — a new patient, but with a strangely familiar face. He was a writer, lost in his words, with storms hiding behind his eyes.

“I can’t write anymore,” he said during their first session. “Some memories won’t let me hold the pen.”

Sara tried to understand. Ayaan often brushed off deep questions with a smile at first, but gradually, he began to open up. He spoke of a lost love — a girl named Zoya, who had vanished suddenly, leaving behind a single note:
“You don’t love me — you love my face.”

Sara replied gently, “Sometimes we don’t fall for someone’s face — we fall for the pain written on it.”

From that day on, something began to grow between them. Therapy sessions turned into deep conversations. Ayaan began to write again — this time, his stories revolved around Sara. A psychologist who was unknowingly becoming the subject of his heart.

One evening, Ayaan softly said, “If I have you, I can forget Zoya.”

Sara looked into his eyes and whispered, “I’m not Zoya, Ayaan.”

And Ayaan smiled, “I know.”

But he didn’t.


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Let’s go back in time...

Ten years ago, Sara’s real name was Zoya.

Zoya was a lively girl who loved Ayaan with all her heart. They met in university — he wrote stories, and she lived in them. Every evening, they would meet in a quiet corner of the library and build their dream world together.

One day, Zoya learned that Ayaan had been developing a rare condition — prosopagnosia, or face blindness. Slowly, he was beginning to forget how to recognize faces, even of those closest to him.

She decided to test his love.

Without telling him, she disappeared for two months. During that time, she completely transformed her appearance — hair color, makeup, expressions — everything. She planned to return with a new identity. If Ayaan could recognize her soul beneath the new face, his love was real. If not, it was just a love for a pretty face.

She returned as “Sara,” the psychologist.

Ayaan didn’t recognize her. Not once.

So she left him a letter — and disappeared.

But over time, Zoya realized that love isn’t always about recognition. Sometimes, real love hides quietly — sacrificing, enduring, waiting.


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Now, back to the present...

One evening, Ayaan didn’t show up at the clinic. Sara called, but there was no answer. Worried, she went to his house.

The door was unlocked. Inside, there was only a book on the table, titled: “City of Eyes.”

On the first page, it read:

“I know who you are, Zoya. You’re not just the psychologist who listens to my pain. You are the home I once lost. Maybe my eyes don’t remember faces anymore, but my soul never forgot you. Even if you walk away again, I’ll keep you alive in my words.”

Tears rolled down Sara’s cheeks. She had forgotten that Ayaan was a writer. He didn’t need faces — he recognized her in silence, in presence, in essence.

She went up to the rooftop, and there he was — sitting quietly, looking up at the stars.

“I’m Zoya,” she said gently.

Ayaan turned and smiled. “I know.”