Sajde kiye lakhon duein mangi
Paya hai Meine phir tujhe
سجدے کئے لاکھوں دعائیں مانگی
پایا ہے مینے پھر تجھے

For the next few days, my mornings were occupied with the orphanage. As the completion of the residential building edged near, I could feel a rush of excitement flow through my veins. This was the first time I had undertaken such an extensive project and I couldn't have been more proud of what I had achieved. Yet despite the excitement, a frisson of unease settled within me. This orphanage was important to Aliyaar, but apart from a few general briefs, he had never really interfered in my work. While his blind trust in me was encouraging, I couldn't help but worry about his reaction.

But in the worry that drew upon my forehead, a realisation dawned upon me, clear as day. I craved his approval. Be it something trivial like my choice of hair or something more important like the orphanage, I was always looking to make sure he was happy. Nothing pleased me more than to see him fall into a satisfied reverie every night when I'd sink into his arms and retell him the events of the day.

But today it wasn't the orphanage I was excited about. I glanced at the clock and then wiped my flour laden hands with a tissue paper. "I'm going to my room. Can you take care of this?" I turned to the stout  old chef standing besides me. His lips curled into a kindly smile and he nodded, taking the bowl from my hand.

"You need not worry about anything, Choti Begum Sahiba. All arrangements will be to your liking." He tried to reassure me for the umpteenth time this morning.

"I just want everything to be perfect." My voice trailed off as I turned back to the counter and eyed the vegetables lying in front of me. A soft chuckle resounded from besides me and the chef looked at me with an amused expression.

"Everything will be perfect, beta." He said with a laugh, despite the affection in his voice, his tone remained respectful, "We've been doing this for years now. You need not worry." I forced a convincing smile at him and took a deep breath before slowly walking out of the kitchen.

The corridors and staircase leading up to my room were mostly quiet, apart from a few maids scurrying around with mops and brooms doing the daily rounds of their morning cleaning. As I approached my room, I hurriedly swung the door open to reveal my husband standing by the mirror painstakingly fixing his hair.

He threw a glance over his shoulder, acknowledging my presence before turning back to the mirror carefully running the brush over his head. Oh the time he spent perfecting his hair! I shook my head, closing the door behind me.

Just when I turned back, a mischievous thought popped in my head and I smiled wickedly. I quickly hopped over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pushing myself into his back, making his body sway in tandem with mine. Not having anticipated the unexpected hug, his body froze and his hand jerked, tussling his pristinely set hair.

"Shanzae my hair!" He cried out in horror, his body resisting the movement, as I swayed our bodies together, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" He spoke, once I had stopped moving. His voice dripped with silent accusation and his eyes narrowed with irritation as he looked at us through the reflection of the mirror.

I giggled and vehemently shook my head. "Why would I do it on purpose? I just wanted to hug you." I plopped my head against his shoulder and tightened my arms around his torso. I suddenly felt acutely aware of our height difference. Despite being perched up on my toes, my chin could barely reach his shoulders. "Your hair still looks good. See." And then with one arm I reached up and ruffled his hair.

His eyes widen in horror and he groaned, letting his head fall back in defeat. "Shanzae." He drawled, stretching the syllables of my name. His voice was laced with vexation but his eyes shone with amusement. He tugged at my wrist, trying to pull me in front of him. But I pulled back, hiding behind him, my body shaking with laughter. "You're such a fox." He said over his shoulder. "You just wasted ten minutes of my hard work." He smiled at our reflection in the mirror.

I tilted my head up, still pressed up against his back. "But I like your hair this way." I puckered my lips and rested my chin against his shoulder blade. "You don't look as old as you are when your hair is messy and undone." I commented nonchalantly, trying to veil my sarcasm behind a smile of innocence.

I knew I had hit a nerve, because I could feel the sinewy muscles of his back flex and his brows raced together in an animated frown. "Just because I'm a few years older than you, it does not mean I'm old." A slow smile spread over my features, but I bit my lip trying to fend it off.

"You're almost a decade older than me." I teased.

He huffed irritatedly, his head turning towards me in amazement, "Trust you to exaggerate everything. We're barely six years apart—"

"Seven." I corrected hurriedly.

He rolled his eyes at my comment, "That still does not make me old. I'm only thirty one." His hands clasped around mine, dragging them up from his waist to his chest. The bracelets on my wrists rolled back with a tinkle and I smiled, watching him in the mirror. For a moment, there were no words, just happiness and pure satisfaction, as we stood there smiling at each other, watching each other.

"It's alright, Aliyaar. I understand." I said comfortingly.

But despite his relaxed posture, his face twisted with skepticism. "What exactly do you understand?" He spoke in a pointed tone.

"That you're probably just conscious of the fact that you're old and I'm young and beautiful." My voice sobered up and my expression went from easy to grave. Despite the mischief churning within me, I pulled a straight face, enjoying the irritation rousing on his face. "But it's alright, even if you're old, you're my old man." I placed my face against his back, pretending to comfort him in his non existent misery.

At this he swore under his breath, "Damn you, Shanzae!" He said, before he began to laugh, his eyes lightening up as my expressions vacillated between humour and seriousness. I opened my mouth to argue, when he shut me off. "But whatever helps you sleep at night. There is no point arguing with you. I know I wouldn't win."

He raised my hand to his lips, his fingers caressing the smooth skin of my hand and flirting with the cool metal of the bracelet. A fire blazed to life within me. No matter how many times he'd touch me, the feeling still remained raw and scorching. The exquisite tenderness with which he kissed the insides of my wrists, one and then another, always had me quivering with fervour.

"You seem unusually happy today." He remarked when he pulled me in front of him, and leaned in to curl a loose strand of hair around his finger.

I lifted my head to him. An errant breeze rippled through the window, lifting my hair and blowing it across my face. "I am. Two reasons. A) you agreed that you'd never win an argument against me." I folded my arms arose my chest in a triumphant posture. He rolled his eyes at my words and I stifled a laugh. "And B) my family is coming over today. Did you forget?"

"Of course I remember." He protested hotly. "Layla is visiting for the first time. Can you buy her a gift?"

"There is no need for formalities." I shook my head dismissively, but then pursed my lips thoughtfully when his brows raced together in disapproval.

"Get her something she likes, Shan." He said with a pressing urgency. "I always wanted a sister and now that I have one, I want to spoil her." Something about his expression told me just how honest his words were. I had always known he loved Layla like a baby sister, but I never realised how much he missed the absence of that relationship in his life. It was a void, I was happy Layla had fulfilled.

"Fine. I will get something for 'your sister'." I said, placing emphasis on the word. He only smiled in response, before turning back to fix his hair.

"Have you told Ammi about the dinner?" His voice bought me back from my reverie of thoughts.

"I did. But she said Ahmed uncle and her would only be here for the evening tea. They already had plans for dinner."

Aliyaar nodded, "And did you invite Shehryar and Miraal?"

I bit my lip, silence stretching between the two of us. Aliyaar turned towards, watching me carefully, studying the play of emotions across my face. When I made no attempt to answer his question, he stepped closer and cupped my face, his thumb grazing the side of my face.

My eyes were pinned upon the button of his shirt, unable to look into his eyes, yet every nerve in my body was alive to his touch. "Jaan. I've never tried to interfere in your friendship, but you can't go on ignoring Shehryar forever."

I sighed, soothed by his voice and touch, yet the unease within me continued to wreak havoc upon my senses. "I have invited Miraal. She is leaving in two days, so I thought it would be good to have her over." I carefully avoided the topic, hoping he wouldn't push it further.

He nodded with a thoughtful expression on his brow, the expression I knew well. He wasn't going to let this go. At least not today. "And Shehryar?"

Irritated by his persistence, I tried to move away, not ready to continue the conversation further. But he held me by the elbow, pulling me back into his chest.  His hold tightened, his gaze shifted and his features became severe. "Don't run away from me when I'm talking to you." His voice was clipped with annoyance, any signs of patience long disappeared from his face.

I flinched at his tone and turned to look at him with surprised eyes. He had always been patient with me, always understanding and considerate, and apart from that one time at the hospital, he had never talked to me with such sternness.

His eyes shimmered. Hot and remote.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked silently. My heart clenched at the thought. My voice was soft, almost rickety with the emotion rising up my throat.

Something shifted as he took in my expression, and his face immediately softened, his eyes flickering under the light. "I'm not angry with you. But you need to mend your relationship with Shehryar. He is my brother. I can't leave him because of a misunderstanding you both had."

The gold centres of his eyes blended into the darkened copper rings of his irises. The severity of his brow faded with the ready appearance of a reluctant, tired smile. "Just because I haven't said anything until now, it does not mean I haven't noticed how you two behave with each other. He doesn't even show up when you're in the room." His voice had lost his previous rigour, but the disapproval was evident as day.

"I haven't stopped him." I retorted with a defiant grumble.

"No, you haven't." Aliyaar stopped and shook his head. He was studying the deep lines of my forehead with an acute interest, his tiger like eyes following every play of emotion of my face. "You simply walk out every time he enters. I can read you Shanzae, don't play this game with me." I clipped my tongue, unable to say anything. Of course, my actions weren't missed by him. I knew it was only a matter of time, before he'd confront me about it, but until then I was happy to push my luck.

When I did not speak, Aliyaar's brows rose with impatience. "I'm still waiting for an answer, Shanzae." His words were soft yet sharp.

"You can invite him. And I promise I'll behave properly from now on." I said reluctantly, my words coming out with much difficulty. Irritation began to flow through my veins.

"You will invite him Shanzae." He spoke with an air of finality, leaving no more room for argument.

My eyes blazed with disbelief, and I twisted in his arms, not even bothering to hide my anger. I resisted, attempting one more time, "You can invite him, what differen—"

"It's not an option Shanzae." My face burnt at the deathly chill of his tone. "I don't want any further argument over this." His tone was even, almost approaching sublime anger.

I held his gaze for a while, my mind a muddle of thoughts and conflicting emotions.

But he remained motionless, his emotions wildly in check.

His face cut. His gaze stabbed.

And then his hands left me and he slowly turned away from me. I felt a dull ache blossom inside my chest at the loss of his touch. I wanted to be angry, I should have been angry yet I felt nothing but a sense of loss and concern. In my blind rage, I had behaved without reason, throwing away all rational thought and damning all consequences.

He was upset with me. My heart lurched at the thought and I quickly stepped forward, my hands reaching out for his. "App naraz hain mujhse?" My voice was ridden with worry and guilt was written all over my forehead.
[are you upset with me?]

I didn't have to be best friends with Yaar, but the least I could have done was act civil in front of his family. "App please mujhe se naraz na hoon. I promise I won't do it again." I lowered my head, my hair falling over my face, sheltering me from his piercing gaze.
[please don't be angry with me, I promise it won't happen again.]

He didn't say anything for a while and I felt unease churn within my stomach. I could tolerate anything but his silence. Tears welled in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks. I clamped down on my lips trying to keep myself from crying, but just when I was on the verge of breaking down, I felt him move. He tilted my face with the tips of his finger and then bent down to wipe the tears off my plump cheeks.

"Fight with me, scold me, but please don't be upset with me. Apki narazgi bardasht nahi hoti mujhse." He was staring at me with such an intensity that had me shaking to my bones, but the lines on his face had eased however the steely glint in his eyes remained.
[I can't tolerate you being upset with me]

"Shanzae I'm not upset with you, but I really want you and Shehryar to mend your relationship. You both are mature individuals who need to start behaving like one." His hands cupped my face, pulling me closer to him, "I have always known there was a problem, but I never bought it up because I knew you needed time and space to heal from whatever happened between you two. I don't want to choose between you two. I can't and I won't."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled lowly, shame and remorse filling me to the brim. "Bas app naraz na hoon."
[just please don't be upset.]

"Jaan, this isn't about me. This is about you. You need to heal from your past. How will you ever move on if you keep holding on to it? Let it go, baby. Let it go." He paused for a while, before he shook my world with his words. "Is my love for you not enough?"

A long pause passed between the two of us. We stood there staring at each other.

Silence.

Our eyes screamed and our lips cried, but no words left us. There was so much to say, yet no way to say it.

Unsaid words.
Unexpressed feelings.
Unhappy hearts.

His face was contorted with pain and anguish. His eyes were drawn and stolen of the light that blazed them. His gaze swept down my face, burning everything it touched. I stared back, my eyes unwavering, trying to read the myriad of emotions fleeting in those hazel orbs.

He wasn't angry.
He wasn't jealous.
He was hurting.

And I was the reason.

Some say love hurts and some say love heals. As I stood here, staring into his eyes, I wasn't sure which was the bigger lie. His love had healed me. It nurtured me and gave me wings. Yet the very love that healed me, was hurting him.

I knew what it was like when there is an ocean of unreciprocated feelings between two people, and the only person drowning in that ocean is you. Yet in my thoughtlessness, I never realised that the very man who was trying to save me was the one drowning himself.

He loved me without conditions. Stood besides me without fear. Cherished me without inhibitions. Desired me without greed.

He captured my heart, but freed my spirit.

Yet here I was mourning over a chapter of my life that was never meant to be written. I should have erased it. It should have been lost and forgotten in the irresistible sea of the endless and sweeping sand of time.

Aliyaar had never once voiced his feelings, but in his silence, I never realised how the chaos of my past was wreaking havoc on my present. The resentment in my heart, was holding onto a past in my life that no longer mattered. I knew that, but Aliyaar didn't. How could I have been so oblivious?

What Shehryar did was wrong, but did I really resent him for bringing me to Aliyaar? I was written in his destiny, Shehryar had only paved the way.

A tear rolled down my eyes, "I've hurt you. But I promise there was nothing between Shehryar and—"

His arm wrapped around my waist and the other swept across my lips, his eyes gleaming with the turmoil churning within him. "I never meant that." He released a caustic breath and his face twisted with an anguish emotion. 

"You have to trust me, Aliyaar. There is nothing in my heart." My hands clenched onto the lapels of his shirt, my eyes pleading him to believe me. "There is no one, but you." I tried to control the tremor in my voice.

"I trust you," my heart began to pound recklessly within my chest as he wrapped his arm around me and held me close. His warm breath fanned my skin when he leaned in and placed a kiss on my forehead. His lips lingered there for a while, savouring the moment. "But don't lie to me and yourself. We both don't deserve it." His voice was gentle yet morbid. "You have to let go."

I felt myself leaning into him, my body seeking the warmth of his touch, my soul searching his solace. "How can I convince you?" I inhaled into his chest, his musky scent clearing the murky stench of my jumbled thoughts.

"You don't have to convince me, Jaan." He placed his palms against the side of my face and leaned in to press his forehead against mine. "We both would know when you free yourself from the shackles of your past. That is when we can both truly move forward."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shrugged, his eyes softening imperceptibly. "Just."

A silent tear rolled down my face, burning everything in its slow sluggish trail. "Don't give up on us."  My voice quivered, tormented in its raw anguished vulnerability. The fear of losing him leeched its way onto my heart.

"Never." He said quietly.

His eyes searched mine, returning my pained stare with his sympathetic one, in the morose silence that enveloped us like a bed of thorn ridden roses, shape, piercing and deadly. His face was imperturbable as fate, yet behind the facade was a man yearning for his wife's undivided affection. A glacial pang of guilt and pain stabbed me like a dagger of ice frozen from a poisoned well.

His love had descended upon me, perfect, sudden and like a blessing from heaven. He might not have been like other men, jealous, controlling or possessive, but at the end of the day he was just a man. A man who was unconditionally, irrevocably and madly in love with a woman who hadn't reciprocated his feelings.

The thought cut through me like a knife and the air suddenly turned chilly. I shivered as silent tears rolled down my face.

Aliyaar was still besides me, studying me carefully, as my thoughts ran into tears like sunlight into rain. His arm gently wrapped around my waist, his hand slowly creeping underneath my shirt. His fingers grazed my skin, caressing it with his withering touch. My eyes clenched, as emotions surged through my soul like a tempest. The achingly familiar touch. I knew he was trying to calm me down, because he knew every time he'd touch me so intimately, I would melt into him like a cloud in the silent summer heaven. But today I felt nothing but an overwhelming wave of guilt drown me.

When I hadn't stopped weeping, he raised his hands and caressed my cheek, before wrapping them around my neck. His fingers brushed against the hallows of its base, his thumb lingering along my jaw. Lovingly and soft. Today his touch burnt.

I looked up, my body ignited by his touch. "Don't give up on us. I promise I would find my way back." He smiled at me, his eyes lightening up with hope. And then he leaned in and placed lips of my face, dragging them from my cheeks down to my jaw, drinking away the salty tears. I relaxed into him, as his breath soothed my erratic nerves.

His lips pressed beneath my earlobe, lingered there for an instant, before he murmured in my ears. "Sajdon mein manga hai tumhe. Zindagi bhar bhi intezar karna para tou karonga."

[I've knelt in prayer begging God for you. I'd wait an entire lifetime if I had to.]

I really hope I find someone who loves me like Ali loves Shany. *goes and cries in the corner.*

A lot of you had asked if Aliyaar is or will ever be jealous of Shanzae and Shehryar. I hope I was able to convey his feelings in this chapter. He is always been a secure man and no he isn't jealous of them. But yes, he is obviously hurt by the fact that a part of Shanzae is still stuck in the past, which in my opinion is a normal reaction.

Someone asked me why, AliZae haven't been physically intimate with each other. Perhaps this chapter cleared why Aliyaar has been waiting.

Let me know what your thoughts were. And if Aliyaar's reaction has been justified.

I apologise for them long wait, but with travels, health and Ramadan, I was unable to make time to write. But hopefully we'd be back on track.

Ramadan Kareem and until next time keep me in your prayers.

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