Photo albums are a great way to preserve memories for lifelong. But what if I don't want to relive them? What if reliving them only brings back the sadness associated with those.

But I had to be brave.

The photos were cute and I looked happy. Of course, I would be happy. I had my superhero, my dad beside me. I chuckle as I see the first series of photos. Dad was trying to feed me and the four photos showed that he was totally done with it.

I remember how Shahid fed me when my arm broke. I kept on refusing the boring hospital food but he kept on feeding me. He was so done by my antics.

I smile sweetly remembering that memory. My heart suddenly feels warm as if those feeling were trying to get through the cold cage. I take a deep breath and continue further.

The next photo was of me sleeping in the crib while my Dad kept rocking it. The genuine smile on his face, while he gazed upon his little princess sleeping peacefully, was like heaven.

I remember how Shahid stayed beside me for a whole week when I got sick. He would regularly check my temperature and give me my medicines. I would whine that he doesn't need to babysit me but he wouldn't budge.

The warm fuzzy feeling in my heart continued to grow. I turn to the next page.

On the next page, my dad was carrying me in a stroller while walking down the supermarket aisles. My curious doe-like eyes were scanning the new environment and that perfect moment was captured by my mother.

I remember when I made a bet with Shahid and I lost terribly. As a punishment, I had to sit in the trolley as he pushes me through the aisles of the supermarket. I would say I looked like a total baby, excited by the ride and scanning the delicious food around me.

What was this new feeling that I felt? Why did I picture Shahid in every memory?

The next photo was of a seven-year-old me, sitting on my Dad's shoulders. I was small so I couldn't reach the uppermost cabinet. Also, I was banned from reaching there as it had my favorite sugar biscuits and my Ma would go hysteric if she saw me eating one of those. But my Dad couldn't care less. He would let his princess have everything in this world. Little did we know, Ma had already captured a beautiful memory.

By the time I met Shahid, I was already tall enough to reach the cabinets. But after a long party, my feet were killing me because of the high heels. He spoke to me in his deep baritone, "Do your feet hurt?" and before I could answer, I was already piggy back-riding him. It was hell for him as I had to give him ice packs for his waist. But he didn't complain. Nor did Dad.

Was Shahid always this similar to Dad? Or was I too blind to notice it? Was this all in my head?

I always loved snow so the next picture was of me making a snowman with my dad. We both were so concentrated in it that we don't remember when the photo was taken.

The thing I remembered from my Shimla trip with Shahid was running around in the snow, hitting each other with it and then......making a snowman. I was so happy when we finished making it that my cheeks turned rosy red. Shahid has that picture as his lock screen.

I couldn't voice out what I was feeling but my head was revolving in circles. I have to move on from my dad's death.

I turn to the next page but a sudden knock makes me lift my head towards the direction.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" It was Shahid.

I don't realize that it was already half-past four. I didn't even eat lunch and they did not bother to disturb me.

I smile at him and keep the album down, the page still open. I hold his warm hands and for the first time, he must have felt that my hands were warm too. My heart felt warm.

"Are you hungry?" he asks. I shake my head in a no.

We both descend the stairs hand in hand, as Shahid waves at Ma.

"We are going for a walk." Ma smiles looking at my face. For the first time in six years, she felt that I was happy.

She goes up to my room once we were out in the garden. She looks around, trying to find the reason that made me change within a few hours. But she couldn't find any. Just as when she was about to give up and leave, she noticed the album on the bed. Specifically, the page opened.

And she smiles looking at that.

She knows my heart would melt on seeing the good side of these memories. She knows that deep down, I will be able to forgive myself for not seeing off Dad nicely.

And Shahid will help me with that.