A Bond Time Couldn’t Break

The first time Amina met Zayd, the air was thick with dust and the sound of hammers. It was the last week of summer vacation, and the neighborhood was alive with the loud, clumsy rhythm of people building a new community center. Amina had come to help her uncle with the painting. Zayd was there because his mother worked as the architect for the project.

They didn’t speak at first. Not because they didn’t want to, but because the work demanded all their attention. Amina had her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a messy knot, while Zayd stood beside her, carefully measuring the wall before applying prime.

“You missed a spot,” Amina said quietly, without turning around.

Zayd blinked. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice.

“I did?” he replied, sounding more surprised than offended.

Amina didn’t look back. She continued painting. “There. That one.”

Zayd leaned closer, looked, and then smiled. “You’re very observant.”

“Maybe I just like doing things properly,” she said.

That was how their friendship began—quietly, with small, honest moments that didn’t need big words. Over the next few weeks, they spent more time together than they realized. They helped paint walls, carried supplies, and sat under the shade of a tree during breaks, sharing stories about school, family, and dreams.

Amina was the kind of person who believed time could be shaped like clay. She was always planning, always imagining what could come next. Zayd, on the other hand, believed time was like a river—unstoppable and always moving forward, no matter how much you tried to hold onto it.

“Do you ever feel like time is too fast?” Amina asked one afternoon, watching the sun slip behind the buildings.

Zayd shrugged. “Sometimes. But I think time is just… time. We’re the ones who rush.”

Amina looked at him. “I wish we could slow it down.”

Zayd laughed softly. “You always say that. Like it’s something we can control.”

Amina didn’t answer. She just stared at the sky as if she could stop the clouds from moving.

That summer ended, as all summers do. The community center was completed, and the neighborhood celebrated with a small ceremony. Amina and Zayd stood side by side, watching the ribbon being cut. Their hands brushed once, and both of them felt a strange warmth.

After that day, their paths began to change.

Zayd’s family moved to another city. His mother had been offered a new job, and they couldn’t refuse. Amina was devastated—not because she didn’t have other friends, but because Zayd was different. He had a calm, steady presence that made her feel safe.

On the day he left, Zayd gave her a small notebook.

“It’s for you,” he said. “Write down everything you want to remember. If time moves too fast, you can always look back.”

Amina held the notebook tightly, feeling tears rise in her eyes. “But you’re leaving.”

Zayd smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not leaving you. Not really.”

Amina didn’t know how to respond. She simply nodded and watched him walk away.

The first few months without Zayd were unbearable. Amina felt like the world had lost a color. She tried to keep busy, filling her days with school, chores, and new hobbies. She wrote in the notebook, just like Zayd told her to, but every page she filled felt empty. It wasn’t the words that were missing—it was him.

One day, months later, she received a letter.

It was from Zayd.

Amina opened it with trembling hands.

Dear Amina,

I know you think time is something that can break things apart. I used to believe that too. But I’m learning something. Time can’t break what is truly meant to stay.

I miss you. I hope you’re doing well. I want to tell you something, but I don’t want it to sound like a goodbye.

Remember the community center? The wall we painted together? I think that wall is like our friendship. Even if we’re far apart, it’s still there. It still holds the same color.

I hope we can stay friends, no matter what.

Your friend,

Zayd

Amina read the letter three times. Each time, the words felt like a gentle hand on her shoulder, telling her she wasn’t alone.

She wrote back the next day, pouring her heart into the pages of her notebook. She told Zayd about her life, her dreams, and how much she missed him. She told him that time might move forward, but her friendship for him stayed the same.

They began writing letters regularly. Sometimes, weeks would pass without a letter, and Amina would feel the emptiness return. But then another letter would arrive, and it would be like the sun breaking through clouds.

Years passed.

Amina graduated from school and entered college. Zayd finished his studies and began working. Their letters became fewer, but they became more meaningful. Each one carried a piece of their lives, a proof that time couldn’t erase what they had built.

One day, Amina received a call.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Amina?” a familiar voice said.

She froze. Her heart began to beat faster.

“Zayd?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied, and there was a soft laugh in his voice. “I’m here. I’m back in town for a few days.”

Amina’s eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t believe it. After all those years, after all the distance, he was standing right in front of her again.

They met at the community center. It looked different now, with new paintings and new memories. But the wall they had painted together still stood, bright and strong.

Zayd stood beside her, looking at the wall.

“It still looks the same,” he said.

Amina smiled. “It does. Just like us.”

Zayd turned to her. “Do you remember what you said the first time we met?”

Amina laughed softly. “You missed a spot.”

Zayd nodded. “You were right.”

Amina looked at him. “So, time couldn’t break this?”

Zayd’s eyes softened. “No. Time couldn’t break this.”

They stood there for a while, letting the silence fill the space between them. It was a different silence now—one that didn’t feel heavy or sad. It felt like comfort.

As the sun began to set, Amina realized something. Time didn’t need to be controlled. It didn’t need to be slowed down. The real magic was in what they had built—something strong enough to survive distance, change, and years.

Their friendship had become a bound time, tied together by memories, trust, and love that wasn’t romantic, but was just as powerful.

And no matter how many days passed, no matter how far they were, that bond remained unbroken.

Because a bound time couldn’t break this.