"Aren't trees peculiar preachers?" I said looking at the trees in front of me, whose green canopy lined the blue sky like glowing clouds of green. Their gnarled twisted trunks wrinkled with the weathering barks, creaking boughs that crept heavenwards embracing the air and the knotted interlaced roots protruding from the soft soil of the earth were a testament of their age, history and the secrets that lay safely hidden in those green leaves.

The late afternoon sun slanted down on the gardens, throwing the sky in a welter of crimson, the day ending with a faint but balmy chill. Mom took a silent sip of her tea, her clear grey eyes sidle to the lane of trees ahead of us and her face warmed with a faint smile. "Why do you say so?" She asked with a soft slurring of her voice and I shrugged, throwing a stealing glance at her.

"Trees stand alone, they live alone yet they are so strong, so beautiful. Despite the rings of scars on their weathering trunks, they show no sign of weakness. They love, they care, they nurture, yet they never ask for anything in return. They do not fear the storms that might uproot them or the struggles that threaten to destroy them, they just grow and continue to love unconditionally." I marvelled quietly, my eyes focussed on the greenery ahead of us.

"Maybe they have the courage to trust love and trust the nature to appreciate that their labour is holy." Her eyes shifted with a knowing emotion and she smiled trying to conceal the sharp intelligence beneath her face with a placid smile. "What is it you want to talk about Shany?"

I sighed, slouching back in the garden chair, my petite body wrapped tightly with a stole, "Aren't relationships are hard and mysterious? I want to love, to be loved, enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling of being in love but I'm too scared. Because loving someone gives them the power to break your heart." I rubbed my hands together and looked up to meet her sharp eyes. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, my words shifting the thinnest veneer of my mother's forbearing nature.

"Then maybe you should trust them to not break your heart." Her long finger curled around the handle of the tea cup and she slowly raised it to her lips for a short graceful slurp.

"Is it that easy?" I asked testily.

"It is not. Love sometimes make you weak, but trust makes you strong. You have to have the courage to trust your love," her eyes stilled ahead of us, her thoughts visible on her face. "Your father and I were never madly in love. We both wanted something else in life, but what kept our relationship strong was respect and trust. There were times when life bought us to a juncture, where lies shone gloriously like the sun and truths hid themselves like an eclipsed moon, where betrayal and hurt mocked us, and trust would begin to slip away. But these hardships are what made us stronger; we never gave up on each other."

I sighed resignedly, my mind relaxed by her words. "I'm scared he'd break my trust. Betrayal isn't new to me," I said, my heart suddenly bitter and cold as past memories flooded back in, "but I don't think I'd be able to take his betrayal."

Mom looked at me with an anguished apprehension, "Someone once said, 'Each betrayal begins with trust.'" She paused and I looked at her with a renewed interest. "You need to trust him first, because the best way to know someone is trustable, is to trust them." She smiled as her eyes caught the understanding in mine, "When people fail to meet our expectations, we feel they betrayed us, but we have to understand no one is perfect. We wouldn't be human if we were. Everyone makes mistakes and everyone feels betrayed, but we shouldn't let that destroy our trust. Everyone deserves a chance."

I nodded thoughtfully, my fingers gently massaging the skin of my neck. Layla walked into the garden with a box in her hand. "Aliyaar Bhai bought these biscuits for you." She announced, as she plopped down on the chair besides mom. Mom looked at the box and then me, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her lips. I rolled my eyes, feeling the warmth grace my face.

"Their chef bakes these biscuits and I really liked them." I said, taking a bite of the freshly baked goods.

"Now. Now. We didn't ask for an explanation, did we Mom?" Layla teased, her eyes laced with mischief. Mom nodded her head joining her in. "I find it amusing, how smitten he is."

"I wouldn't go so far." I gave her a wary smile and she furrowed her eyebrows at me, "But he does care for me. A lot."

"Whatever you wish to call it, but I just hope things stay the way they are." Her lips straightened in a strained smile and I couldn't help but notice the abysmal fear floating in her eyes.

"What do you mean, Layla?" Mom asked with a discerning concern in her voice.

Layla's eyes shifted uncomfortably between the two of us, before she hesitantly spoke, "Aliyaar Bhai has been adamant that he wants the position of Chief Minister, but everyone else is of the opinion that he should take up a Federal Ministry. Things have gotten pretty ugly during the last few meetings. Has he told you anything about it?" She asked turning to me.

I shook my head, "He had stormed out of a meeting a few nights ago, but he never told me why he was so angry." I said with an awful slowness, my mind flashing images from the other night. "He had asked me what I'd do if our family decided to call off the wedding." My voice wavered as I realised why he'd asked that question.

"They wouldn't do that." Mom cried out, appalled at the prospect. "Does your father know about this?"

Layla solemnly shook her head, "I don't think so. Zaroon told me about this, but he is worried Aliyaar Bhai might do something rash to pressurise Dada Jaan to agree to his demands." Mom pressed her fingers against her temples and looked up to meet my fearful gaze. "Some senior party members were already not too keen on this merger and now with the promising exit poll results, they are not ready to give into Aliyaar Bhai's demands."

"He is not an easy man. He is financing this whole election, he'd never settle for anything less than what he wants." I looked at my mother furtively, treacherous and anxious thoughts looped through my mind and I knew my mother could clearly read the fears floating on my face. "You understand my concerns now? We both can never have a normal relationship. How can I trust him, when I cannot even trust my own family?" I felt a lonely feeling creep up my body and I gulped trying to compose myself.

"I will talk to your father." My mother said sternly, "You have nothing to worry about. Aliyaar is a sensible boy, he wouldn't do anything silly." She said looking at Layla, who just nodded hopefully.

"What if he does? You know Dada Jaan would rather lose the election then be pressurised by someone." I cried out in frustration. "Is he upstairs?" I asked Layla.

"No, in Dada Jaan's office."

"I need to talk to him." I muttered quietly, wondering if the sudden ache in my heart was visible to my mother, who was watching me with a concerned look on her face.

➰➰➰

With each laboured step, treacherous thoughts trundled my brain, like wretched demons, barging in unannounced and gnarly. Unknown fears gripped my heart, and despite the chill in the air, I felt my body heat up with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My thoughts tortured my gut and I felt my stomach churn with an uneasy feeling. I clenched my eyes shut and sighed heavily, hoping for the damned whispers to ebb into silence.

Happiness had just knocked at my door, the ice inside me had just begun to melt. But now I felt terrified by the menacing fire whose fierce ribbons threatened to burn everything.

I stood outside Dada Jaan's office rioting in my unsureness to either wait for him outside or sneak a peak through the window. I waited for a while before the fever of impatience began to burn my insides, and I found myself lurching across the hall to the giant window at the end. I scanned the room once before perching myself against the window.

Dada jaan sat on his usual seat with Ibrahim Taya and Zaroon Bhai sitting besides him. Both of them stealing forlorn glances at each other.

My eyes shifted to Aliyaar who sat opposite them, his eyes focussed at the crystal paper weight in his palm. Dark, dangerous and formidable, just like the last time I had seen him. There was silence; cold stabbing silence and the air in the room felt suffocating and poisonous.

His hand left the weight and he shifted back into the chair, before looking up to meet the hardened gaze of my grandfather. He took a deep, calming breath, his emotions concealed with the shrewd twinkle of his eyes. "What makes you think I'd agree to this proposal?" He said with a sinister smile. "I've made it clear to you, it's either Chief Minister or nothing at all."

I felt an uneasy feeling pierce my body and a carousel of fears began to take control of my mind.

"Chief minister is reserved for party members. You have to understand our position. Seniors members would never agree to giving this post to you just because we're forming a collision government with your party." Dada Jaan stated as a matter of fact.

"We've had enough negotiations over this. I don't think there is any point in wasting more time." He tilted his head, his expressions hiding in the dim shadows of the room. "My demands are clear. You don't want to test me." His voice was distant and cold, dripping with an ominous warning which had the blood in my veins running cold.

"Are you threatening us?" Zaroon Bhai growled in an agitated tone. Dada Jaan held on to his hand, beckoning him to harken to him.

"Aliyaar, you're being unreasonable. We're offering you a fair deal."

His gaze shifted to his hand that rested on his crossed knee and a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "I thought we had already established that my demands are fair and justified. I'm not financing your entire election and marrying your daughter for nothing."

Hot pain surged though my body and icy daggers pierced straight through my heart. Hurt in the form of unbidden tears stung my eyes and I felt a paralysing ache ricochet though me. I knew our relationship was nothing more than an arrangement, but his acknowledgement was painful and pernicious. My body froze, before a harrowing empty feeling began to fill me in and I held onto the window sill trying to hold myself together. My legs twitched and an overwhelming impulse to run ate at me and my jaw constricted.

The ether of time began to dissolve and a rancid pungency began to suffocate me. The demons of my fears began to mock me and I felt myself lost in the wonderland of dreams I had created.

But I stayed, willing myself to hear the rest of the conversation. There was silence for a minute before Ibrahim Taya spoke, "Ahmad Sahab proposed that, we never wanted it in the first place." His tone was firm and I felt his face hardened. "You have to understand this is the best we can offer. People will think we're favouring you because of your new relationship with our family."

"The centre of power in politics is the party president. You are the party president." Aliyaar replied with a pointed tone, his heated gaze piercing into my grandfather's icy one. "I'm sure it's not hard for the party president to meet my demands."

"The party president also has to answer to other members. It's not a one man show." Zaroon Bhai's clenched his teeth, visibly failing at trying to control his anger.

For a tense moment, there was silence. Aliyaar stood up from his seat, and idly readjusted the lapels of his waist coat, pulling down on his rolled up sleeves. "You have until tomorrow morning to decide." He said in a clear voice that carried throughout the tensely quiet room. "Otherwise you can call this deal off."

His parting words echoed in my mind and a torrents of painful emotions shot through my blood and then descended agonisingly on my body, threatening to explode and consume me like an inferno. I trembled as ireful flames of anger licked my veins. My face was livid with the hot blood pulsating through me and I laughed at my stupidity.

Suddenly, the serenity of the silence in the room felt oddly comforting and I smiled sensing a single tear roll down my cheek. A sudden flash of light meandered through the slightly ajar curtains and I looked outside to see the budding storm take root.

➰➰➰

Pain is a strange feeling. Sometimes it slashes through you like a savage becoming excruciatingly difficult to be borne and sometimes it hugs you like a deadly snake slowly crushing you.

Did I mean nothing to him?

I spent the night turning in my bed, sleep seemed to have evaded me. His words played in my mind like an old familiar movie and my heart clenched at the thought. There were no tears, no hurt, just a stinging pain that plagued my heart.

Was our relationship just an arrangement?

After a night of heavy rains, the bloody glory of the morning sun unwrapped the hues of the world. There were no birds twittering outside my window today, just an eerie bewildering silence. The storm had ebbed away yet I felt dangerous sullen clouds loom over warning me of the impending doom.

Were all those moments just an act?

The stony silence was abruptly broken when Huda barged into my room and spoke with a pressing urgency. "Everyone is calling you downstairs."

Her words stiffened my spine, pain and rage flowed through my veins. And with one wrench I tore myself off my bed, tightening my robe around myself and walked towards the living room. The death of a relationship is painful, but I would not let this weaken me. I knew Dada Jaan would never give into blackmail and I had braced myself for what was to come.

But as I stepped into the hall, the room was drowning in the piercing shrill voices of the new reporters blasting on the television screen. Everyone sat with a somber pensive expression plaguing their faces, their eyes glued to the screen ahead of them. "What's wrong?" Layla inquired with a soft yawn, walking in behind me. I shrugged unknowingly, my eyes reading the headlines flashing on the television.

But before I could read the whole thing, dad turned the television off and cursed under his breath. "What's wrong?" I looked at my parents with a concerned expression.

"The news of Ibrahim Bhai bribing the Supreme Court judge has leaked." Mom said with a shake of her head, her eyes dragging away from dad's pensive face to Layla and mine.

My heart sank at the news and my breath hitched as my fears began to tempestuously float in my mind. "The properties he gifted to Mir Shahnawaz's son in London." I said in a dazed whisper, but my face turned pale, my heart fluttering with fear at the possibility of Aliyaar leaking this information to pressurise my family.

He wouldn't do this to me and my family?

"How do you know about this?" My mother asked with a sudden surprise. I hadn't realised I had said the words out loud, until I felt all eyes in the room focussed at me. Layla arched her eyebrow at me, from underneath the riot of soft black black curls framing her face. Dad too swung around, looking at me questioningly waiting for me to answer the question.

"I— I just— I saw a cursory headline online this morning, but I didn't realise it was about Ibrahim Taya." I lied, but dad shook his head looking away without prompting any further questions.

He had promised me he wouldn't go public with this information.

"What happens now?" Zayan asked. "Do they have any idea who is behind this?" Tension began to grow in my heart and limbs and I bit my lips trying to compose myself.

Dad shook his head and sighed , "They need to find out who leaked this information first. Zaroon is meeting with the lawyers right now, we will be fine." Dad assured.

"Aliyaar Bhai has a property business in London. Can we not ask him for help?" Zayan asked, "We can forge documents, can we not?"

"Ibrahim Bhai has called Aliyaar. Perhaps he can help."

"What will happen if we fail to provide evidence?" Layla asked, unsure of the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sure Ibrahim Bhai has covered up after himself, but this is just another scandal we cannot afford at this time. And in case this gets to court, it means he'd be wouldn't be able to contest the election—"

"—and that would be a crisis we can't afford." Layla completed thoughtfully. "Is there a chance he might get arrested?"

"We can't say anything at this point." Mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "Just when I thought things were getting better."

Unable to take it any further, I left the hall, locking myself in the confines of my room. He had told me he trusted me, he had told me I could trust him, I thought I could trust him and perhaps I was beginning to trust him. Just when he was becoming the bedrock of my life, he broke me. Stealing the sunlight from my life like a wretched storm, destroying everything. His betrayal, like a knife, lay precariously on my skin, cold and raw. It's sharpened edge biting mercilessly into my heart.

I felt silent today. Quiet and empty. The harrowing void of nothingness pulled me in, cruelly swallowing every thought, every feeling. I wanted to hide the pain, mask it away with a smile, but all I felt was a whorish emptiness that gnawed at my stomach.

I had protected him in front of my family, but I would not let him destroy them.

Is Aliyaar in this only for the power and position?
Thoughts on today's chapter? ♥️

VOTE AND COMMENT.
Read Chapter 15 Support for information about the scandal.