Part 3 – The Test of Time (Nashim & Sumaiya)
Life does not stay the same forever.
It moves quietly, changing people, dreams, and directions.
For Nashim and Sumaiya, love had already taught them patience and trust.
But Part 3 of their story would teach them something even deeper—endurance.
After deciding to move forward together, they entered a new phase of life.
Their days became busier. Responsibilities grew heavier.
Dreams that once felt far away now stood right in front of them, demanding effort.
Nashim had always dreamed of building a future where he could stand on his own feet.
He wanted stability—not only for himself, but also so that one day he could protect the people he loved.
Sumaiya knew this dream well. She had listened to it many times, quietly believing in it even when Nashim doubted himself.
Sumaiya, on the other hand, was discovering her own path.
She wanted to learn, to grow, to become someone strong and independent.
She believed love should never cage a person—it should give them wings.
At first, everything felt balanced.
They shared late-night conversations, early-morning messages, and small words of encouragement.
Even when tired, they tried to make time for each other.
But slowly, reality began to knock.
Nashim started spending longer hours working and learning new skills.
Some days, he returned home exhausted, with little energy left for conversation.
Sumaiya understood, but understanding does not always erase loneliness.
There were moments when she waited for his message,
checking her phone again and again,
telling herself, "He is busy. Be patient."
Nashim, too, felt the pressure.
He worried that he was not giving enough time,
that his silence might be misunderstood.
But he believed that sacrifice today would create happiness tomorrow.
Love, however, does not grow only on intentions.
It also needs presence.
One evening, after days of missed conversations, Sumaiya finally spoke.
Her words were calm, but her heart was heavy.
"I know you're working hard," she said,
"and I'm proud of you.
But sometimes, I feel like I'm standing far away, watching you walk alone."
Nashim felt those words deeply.
He realized that love was not just about reaching the future—
it was about walking together toward it.
"I never meant to make you feel alone," he replied.
"If I ever did, I'm sorry.
I'm learning too… learning how to balance dreams and love."
That night, they didn't argue.
They didn't raise voices or blame each other.
They simply listened.
And listening changed everything.
They made small promises—not dramatic ones, but real ones.
To talk honestly.
To speak before silence grew heavy.
To choose understanding over ego.
For a while, things improved.
But life, once again, tested them.
Rumors began to appear—quiet words from people who did not know their story.
Some questioned their bond.
Some doubted their future.
Others believed distance would eventually break them.
Sumaiya heard these words more often than Nashim.
She stayed quiet, carrying the weight alone.
She didn't want to disturb him with unnecessary worries.
But worries grow when hidden.
One day, overwhelmed and tired, she asked herself a painful question:
"Is love enough to survive everything?"
At the same time, Nashim was fighting his own battles.
Failures came unexpectedly.
Plans didn't work.
Confidence shook.
He felt ashamed—not because he failed,
but because he feared becoming a disappointment.
Instead of sharing his fears, he pulled back.
Two people, both trying to protect each other,
slowly drifted apart.
Days passed.
Conversations shortened.
Smiles felt forced.
Yet, even in distance, love remained.
One rainy afternoon, Nashim found an old message from Sumaiya saved on his phone.
It was simple:
"Whatever happens, believe in yourself. I'm with you."
He read it again and again.
That was the moment he understood—
love is not measured by constant happiness,
but by who remains in the hardest moments.
That same evening, he went to see her.
Sumaiya was surprised when she saw him standing there, tired but determined.
Before she could speak, Nashim said,
"I've been quiet because I was afraid.
Afraid of failing. Afraid of not being enough.
But I realize now… losing communication is more dangerous than failure."
Tears filled Sumaiya's eyes—not of pain, but of relief.
"I never needed perfection," she said softly.
"I just needed honesty."
They sat together for a long time, talking about everything they had kept inside.
Fears.
Doubts.
Dreams that scared them.
For the first time, they understood that love was not about strong moments—
it was about shared weakness.
After that day, their relationship changed.
Not lighter, but stronger.
They stopped hiding struggles.
They stopped pretending to be fine when they weren't.
They learned that love grows when two people choose truth over comfort.
Months passed.
Slowly, Nashim began to find his ground again.
Small successes appeared.
Confidence returned—not loudly, but steadily.
Sumaiya, too, grew stronger.
She learned to stand firm against outside voices,
trusting her heart more than opinions.
They celebrated small victories together.
A good day.
A solved problem.
A shared laugh after a hard week.
They didn't promise forever with big words.
They showed it through actions.
There were still hard days.
There were still disagreements.
But now, they knew how to face them—together.
One quiet night, under a sky full of stars, Nashim said,
"Time tested us in every way.
And somehow, we're still here."
Sumaiya smiled.
"Because love isn't about escaping storms," she replied.
"It's about learning how to stand in the rain."
They didn't know exactly what the future held.
No one ever does.
But they knew one thing for sure—
whatever came next, they would face it with patience, honesty, and care.
Because real love does not rush.
It waits.
It listens.
It stays.
And that was the story of Nashim and Sumaiya—
not perfect, not easy,
but real.