𝕽age, shock, and disbelief etched and carved themselves on the remaining fragments of the Mughal family. All the air went out of the library, making it a vacuum, and for the second time this morning, everyone was turned into stone. They became a garden of statues gathered in a semicircle around the room. Baba skulked in the shadows watching us because as soon as Haider Mughal slammed the door shut behind him, he straightened, every cell in him seemed to be inflated with his innocence as he came to his feet and walked toward me. Pushing forward, he clasped his hand around my arm and I nearly buckled under his weight.

Alarmed, my eyes flew to my mother, who motioned for me to help her get my father to the door. "Should we call a doctor?"

"Don't worry. Asfand, can you call Dr. Laghari?" Zeenia said, her arm stretched towards me, rushing to my side.

"There's no need. My daughters and I will be going home now," Baba coughed out. He looked my way with wide eyes, no longer soaked with rage but with bright apprehension. Worry for me. His eyes darted to me, indicating, pleading for me to come with him.

Home.

Tension worked along my back, and nerves fluttered in my stomach. Taimoor's eyes zinged my way in a milli-second, his eyes flashing with panic, rage, and then tightening blankness. He drew in a deep, preparing breath, and as he straightened, he looked at me with so much power, it obliterated me. I went boneless. In that small second, I could read every single one of his thoughts, starting from Seher's confession, going back to his past, and then zooming to an end at his silent deceleration yesterday. That was impossible but maybe, judging by the fear flickering on the surface of those depthless, stormy eyes, he was afraid.

Afraid of what? Losing the company, his legacy, or losing me?

He knew I could leave. I could leave right now and end our relationship. Our original six months were up. He had no power over me. No tangible hold. No way to come after me.

"I-"

"I think that's a good idea. I'm sure your youngest is tired from last night's festivities," my mouth dropped open in shock. Taimoor's mother, Rania stepped around the desk to stand beside her son. My gaze went from the older Mughal sibling to the younger ones, and they each had a similar look of disbelief. "But please accept our invitation to stay for a little longer. There is much that needs to be discussed."

Returning her gaze to us, her features were only finely lined considering how much stress she was in right now. All the anxiety I'd had when we had walked into this room had now been replaced with power and determination.

Love linked us all when you had it, and especially when you didn't.

And I could understand her desperation in wanting to keep her family intact.

Taimoor's mother abruptly straightened, and a stillness washed over her. "Mansoor, it looks like we are in dire need of some family time and it seems like we now owe you a long-due apology," her focus swung to me. "Isn't that right beta?"

What in the world was happening?

Baba's spine snapped into a single straight line, his face filling with anger.

"With all due respect, you owe me much more than an apology. I was targeted and made to atone for a crime I hadn't committed," Baba's stare tried to burn a hole into me as I realized what he was saying. "My family suffered with me. We were on the brink of a social boycott and financial ruin!"

"And you know that we had no idea that Haider was behind all of this-"

He didn't acknowledge her with words. He simply lifted an eyebrow, took my mother's hand in his, turned, and strode out the door.

"This was...I don't think I need to emphasize the confidentiality of this matter," Rania dropped her arm on the table with an angry thump, her eyes on us, running the tips of her fingers over the pad of her thumb as she spoke."We'll have to band together to make sure that-"

"Enough."

Azaan hadn't shouted, but his strong voice carried a definitive scream, a cry for help. Once again, shocked silence echoed around us.

"Azaan beta, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that we're not even bothering to talk about what just happened," his wild eyes swung towards his brother. "What's wrong is that no one is bothering to acknowledge that we didn't just lose one person. We lost Altamash bhai but we'd lost Taimoor bhai too. For months, before Altamash bhai's death, we had no idea if Taimoor bhai even existed! And now, he's banished our father from our home. Is that what we're doing now? Sweeping things under the rug? Not confessing to our sins?"

"What sins are you talking about?"

"What sins?" he stumbled forward to his mother and she braced a hand out to catch him. "We were all miserable. We were miserable because of you!" she gasped, tears glistening in her eyes. "We were miserable because our parents were miserable."

"Behave yourself Azaan."

"I've behaved myself. Maybe it's time we actually take some time to consider what we've done," after staring at his mother for moments I feared would unthread the fabric of this clan, Azaan continued. "The two of you picked your favorites, made two brothers compete against one another, supporting your favorite child and foregoing their mental health," he pointed towards Seher. "And you. You were the spiteful bitch who wanted to be on the arm of the more successful Mughal."

My stomach hollowed. Dizziness swamped me.

"Azaan!" Seher glared daggers at him, her tear-streaked face now flushed red. It was too full of a dark, ugly look, and there wasn't room for anything else. Azaan gave her a calm look. He didn't have to use words to threaten her because his piercing glare was more than enough and Seher physically withered under it.

"I heard you, I heard the two of you planning to sweep everything away from Taimoor bhai."

If my husband were tense, I couldn't tell. All I saw were the beautifully violent eyes of Ares as he drew in a preparing breath and readied his weapons to strike.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Taimoor's voice was crisp and toneless as though saying something at all annoyed him.

"I told Dada Jaan."

"That's why he gave you Mughal House," Rania connected the dots, her gaze finally clearing with understanding."That's why he changed the will."

I exchanged a panicked glance with Affandi. Should we even be here, witnessing all of this? This seemed like a family issue. He shrugged his shoulders, watching this train wreck of a family with unfiltered raptured attention.

"He knew that there would be a time where we would all fail him," the words were too soft for such ugliness."And it wasn't just him, we failed Altamash bhai as well."

"Azaan-" Rania whispered, her once red face now white. Zeenia stumbled into the half semi-circle now formed around us and I took an inadvertent step back.

"Don't Azaan me. Even now, you're choosing to gloss over the fact that we lost someone! We lost someone, mother. You lost your son," he collapsed and his mother wept, silent tears streaking down her face. "We lost him because of your games because the two of you couldn't fucking manage to keep it together for us."

"Azaan... my son."

Gazing back at me with eyes so similar to her son, I feared she could tell that I could read the pain in her eyes and in her voice. I knew that type of heartache had to be worse than any other- the type that hurt with an intensity that stole your tears and refused to allow the grief to leave your body. For if it did, there'd be nothing left. Nothing.

To lose someone you love, a son, your eldest child, and that to an illness you could have countered...

"Azaan, how much have you had to drink?" Taimoor asked, all the while something nudged at my muddied mind, piecing my confusion into something that shot an arrow of fear into my heart.

"Not nearly enough."

"What is going on with you?" he barked, snapping him from his trance. He was before me, so close yet I hadn't seen him move.

"I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending," Azaan's chest began to heave. Inside him, chaos brewed and ate away at his self-control. Just a boy. Scarred by his parents, traumatized by his brother's death. His eyes were wild and unfocused, and his expression desperate. He looked so incredibly mortal as his world began to fall apart. "We can't keep doing this."

The library was big and spacious, but the animosity between the two brothers filled every square inch. What would it be like when it was confined to their insides? It would destroy them.

"You need help," Taimoor spoke with a tone of absolution, in a way his brother would best understand. I sensed what was coming before the words were out of his mouth, and my pulse spiked. My heart sank in my chest. "Maybe we should get you an appointment with a therapist-"

"I don't need help, I need you to fix this."

"Azaan, we will. We will fix this, but you need to take a breath. Sweetheart you need to calm down," Zeenia demanded raggedly, her panicked gaze moving up and down, trying to soothe her brother, the fear of losing another one making her words come out broken.

There was anger on both sides of their gazes as sound of the imminent smack echoed into the silence as if it could actually be heard. I wrapped my fingers around Taimoor's arm, holding him tight, so tight I could feel our hearts thundering together. My eyes itched, stung, but I swallowed over the boulder of emotion in my throat.

"Maybe, we should all take a break. Simmer down a little," I hated how my voice wavered at the end. Six heads snapped to look at me. "Let yourselves have some time to process all of this."

Silence crawled in, unwelcome and cold all the same, as they absorbed all I'd said. I didn't look at Taimoor, I couldn't when his mother's eyes fell upon me, tear-soaked with turmoil. Zeenia took her hand, imploring. Her eyes swam over my face, her fingers shaking as her lips parted, and she again looked back at her son. Her eyes closed as she turned away.

"She's right, we should give take a break," Zeenia gazed up at me, her gaze nervous. "It's been an enlightening morning."

Sweat beaded along my nape, my hairline, and coated my palms, my panic a thrumming hum in my ears. Slowly, the tension eased. The brothers didn't relax, but their postures loosened slightly. The temperature cooled and everyone breathed a little easier.

But on top of it was also closure. It was out now.

Done.

Time marched brutally along.

Gradually, the entire room became empty. The feeling, nagging and incessant returned. Taimoor's gaze tracked me until I twirled around to look at me. The Manor was abuzz with activity, murmurs in halls and behind closed doors as the staff all tended to their duties. I sensed him before I saw him and withheld a curse.

He leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Azaan needs help."

"He needs to be heard. He needs his family," I gritted.

"We're not exactly known for communicating."

"Maybe you should change that."

"The truth hurts," he needlessly said, his expression closing up. I ached because he'd ached.

He'd claimed me and now I felt every pain that he'd experienced. And for him, I wished at that moment that I would have changed, that his father would have been a different person for him so that he would never have had to hurt like this. I was the mortal asked to make the impossible choice. I was the one tasked with the decision. I was to decide amongst the Olympians. To pit one against the other, to measure which of their treasured qualities was most worth saving: power, wisdom, or love.

And I knew the betrayal he'd experienced at the hands of his fiancée - a woman who supposedly loved him. My shoulders sagged when he didn't move, and I tried a different approach. There was an invisible link formed between those who've experienced heartbreak - which was most of us. There was a conscious understanding and empathy of knowing a pain that was so difficult to describe.

"It heals," I spoke gently, but there was no mistaking that I was correcting him.

"How do you know?"

The space of silence before my answer felt momentarily bottomless.

"Because that's the only way to move forward. It's time to heal the rift Taimoor," I met his eyes, losing myself in them. I didn't want to talk. Doing so would only lead to more anguish, more anger, as his family stomped my own as well as others, and he had not cared. Not when it hadn't concerned him. He didn't care that the company, his father's hatred, his malice, their greed, and their cruelty had pulled my family apart and would have had us begging at the feet for refuge.

I swallowed, not tasting anything but the sour essence of regret.

Did he regret it? Would he go back and change the past if he could?

I wanted to believe he would. I wanted to believe so many things that I feared would be a mistake to ever believe in again.

"Please," the whispered word broke a little, surprising us both. But then he moved.

Slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, mine never leaving him, his body swayed with each powerful, lazy step he took across the carpet.

"I will fix this."

I will fix this.

Promising words from a man who liked to break things.

༻✺༺

Dusk rolled over the manor, dragging day into deep pinks and oranges to gift to the growing night. Behind me, the door creaked open without a thought, and I turned around to see the maid walk inside the dark, stale room. The doctor had left a lingering scent of incense and that had now left the bitter taste in its wake.

Rounding the half-made bed, where Baba lay perched against the pillows while gazing at the swaying drapes concealing the windows and balcony, the maid set the tray upon the nightstand. I thanked her and started to place the tray over his legs.

"What are you thinking of?"

"I don't know what to think," I said as I climbed over his legs to next to my mother's spot, her scent aromatic on the pillow. My heart throbbed, guilt roughening my voice."I should have believed you. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, his movements heavy and stilted. I could empathize with his anger toward me, and I could try to force him into empathizing with me. I hadn't the energy nor the space in my bruised heart to fix anything when everything felt so irreparably shattered.

This marriage was supposed to fix things.

It was supposed to help us all come together. It was supposed to save and solve this, regardless of what it might have done to my heart.

"There was no way to know. I lived with that guilt. The guilt of ruining the life of a promising young boy. Possibly devastating his life for the second time."

Guilt gnawed at me, a consistent nibble that wouldn't cease.

"There's no way to go back into the past Baba. All we can do is hope that the future is better."

"You need to go to your rooms beta, you can't stay here all night."

I popped his pills and placed them near his dinner plate."I know, I'm just waiting for Mama and Nazia to come back."

They arrived half an hour later. Mama gently pushed at my shoulders and shook me awake. Groaning, I tumbled out of the chair in an ungraceful heap, my tender brain bouncing around inside my skull. Crawling to the refreshments on the table, I pulled myself up and poured a glass of water, tossing it back before gripping the surface and braving the small wall mirror for the first time in a very long while.

I pinched my pallid cheeks, licked my chapped lips. My hair was matted, eyes flat and dull rather than the usual bright brown, the skin beneath them dark...

Hell. I looked like hell.

I needed a shower and a change of clothes. The hall was silent, eerily so, as I gathered my hair, into a makeshift ponytail. Without needing to check, my feet moved on their accord to his rooms, pausing just before the intimidating large wood. Engravings of thorns and vines twined throughout the middle section and on the shiny brass handle. The door opened without any resistance, maybe he wouldn't be there.

Tough luck.

"You're back," said a deep voice from behind.

I whirled, my pulse skidding and my heartbeat pounding, he crossed through a slice of light, the morning sun glinting off his eyes as if they're hard, polished surfaces.

"I needed a change of clothes," every muscle coiled, ready to spring into feather and flight. As if he could sense that, he stopped.

"Have dinner with me?" those dark eyes slid over me, a slow perusal that raised every hair on my body. He sighed then said a moment later. "We need to talk."

A gentle offer I could not refuse.

"Sure," I nodded.

He gestured to the room. "Take your time, I'll ask them to bring it up here."

Unable and unwilling to argue, because I was in dire need of a shower and a mental pep talk and also because it felt as though something had snuck inside my brain and mixed everything into an unrecognizable mess, I did as he asked and moved towards the wardrobe, my eyes purposefully avoiding the rumpled sheets on the bed.

After another quick shower and another casual outfit, I swallowed my mouthful of meat, watching his every smooth, powerful action, felt the blood drain from my cheeks when I realized he was going to start asking questions and that he would want answers.

"You should finish your food."

I jumped, too stunned to do anything but stare. "I'm full."

"No, you're not. You've barely eaten anything today."

"And you would know because?"

"Because I know everything about you little dragon," he was all hard lines and chilling resolve, jawline dusted with day-old growth almost hiding his scars. My chest felt too crowded to contain my lungs and fluttering heart, but I drew a tight breath.

"You're giving yourself too much credit," but I started to eat again, forcing the food down my throat.

"Maybe," he cleared his throat, the sound a crush of his deep vocals, and my gaze darted to his beckoning finger. "We need to talk Daania."

"About how your father used my father as a scapegoat to save his son?" I winced at the bluntness of my words but I couldn't help it. I'd counted the number of medicines my father was taking, and I'd seen the way he was struggling with the troubles his body was causing. I took a sip of my orange juice, smacking my lips against the sharp tang.

"Amongst other things."

"I think that's the most important thing right now," he arched a brow, and I swore the sterling pools of his eyes swirled. "Taimoor, Azaan is suffering from something, fighting something. You need to see how not admitting that leads to people bottling up their emotions and feelings inside. That's not healthy."

"We're looking for a therapist for him. He's agreed to get help."

"But that's not all. What's the root of all of these problems?" the words slipped out like silk, but I could tell by the way his midnight brow jacked up that he knew my tongue was tainted. "You need to talk to your parents."

"We'll talk about this later," Taimoor rumbled his voice a dark promise of something unpleasant.

Silence stretched between us, tension crackling. I sipped my orange juice, marinating in the flow of soundless words that seemed to have their own ill-tempered heartbeat. Drumming fingers against his bicep, his lips formed a thin line.

"That's not all," I opened my mouth, closed it, suffocating under the weight of his perusal, knowing what was coming. "You've conveniently left out what happened before we had to rush out to the library."

"What do you mean?" my tone was steady, somehow hiding the fact that my heart was waging war against my ribs.

"You're not someone who would insult my intelligence Daania," arms unknotting, he ran his thumb back and forth across his lower lip while I suffered a sharp examination. "We're both adults here. You wanted communication and openness, so let's communicate."

"Sure?" I said more question than a statement.

Testing the waters.

"Why did you freak out?"

"I didn't," I practically snarled the words, watching the muscle in his jaw feather the moment it left my lips. He leaned back against the chair, tucking a hand inside his pocket as he eyed me for a heated half minute, then sighed.

"I don't want to play games Daania, what's the problem?"

My cheeks grew warm, and I looked down at my bare feet, feeling so incredibly small. Useless, young, and stupid."I've never been in a relationship before."

"You're saying that like I wasn't aware of that before," his eyes darkened to a deep, stormy gray.

"I need some time."

"Time to do what?"

"To come to terms with..." I waved my hand around. "You know."

"No Daania, I don't. Explain it to me," not a single cell in my body escaped the attack of his words. Even my bones wanted to crumble from the blow.

He was not done with me yet, I could feel it.

"You said it was real," I began, my cheeks heated with chagrin. I could do this, this conversation needed to happen. I felt my skin warm under that gaze and said quietly without enough thought to stop myself. "I guess I'm not sure where to go with that."

"I thought I made my intentions pretty clear," he said then, brows raised in defiance, eyes of stone gazing at me down the strong bridge of his nose. "I thought we were on the same page."

"We were, we are," I amended, his face morphed into confusion. "What do we even know about each other?" I challenged.

"People have started with less."

I huffed in exasperation."You said you weren't a romantic."

"Maybe you changed my mind."

We stared for a stretched moment, a moment that rippled and heated and charged and lured as my thoughts ran astray.

"You have to consider the logistics of all of this," I knew he nodded by the way the tension between us snapped like someone took a blade and severed the connection. "We need time."

"You're right," a yawn nearly flew out of my mouth and I stifled it by covering my mouth with the back of my hand. "Enough, it's been a rough day."

Hypnotized, I allowed him to lead me back to the room but halted when we reached the bed, which revealed a memory-stained space.

"It's like another world," I heard myself say, fingers pulling from his hand."Being in this room with you, what happened last night..."

It was like I'd unleashed a beast. A whimper escaped me as Taimoor poured onto me with eyes shaded black. He slammed into me, corralling me against the wall, locking me between what felt like two unyielding sheets of ice.

I swallowed thickly, all too aware of the tensed panes of his powerful body. Of the way his head dipped, nose grazing my neck, his cold breath an assault on my prickling flesh. His arm slid under my shoulders, his hand trapping my face to his as he fused our mouths, and his body crashed into mine with intense precision, erasing my conflicting thoughts and my faulty plans.

Taimoor swallowed my gasp, fingers at my hairline smoothing the wild strands, pushing against me and so hard, so huge, that I feared I'd burst, rupture at every seam. Countless labored breaths rushed free, and I didn't. I didn't break, and he kissed my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids. When they slowly opened, my muscles unlocking and melting, even while the slicing ruination still burned, my beast was watching, waiting.

"I'm sorry."

Stunned, I gaped at him, certain it was the first time I'd ever heard him utter those two words and concerned. Concerned because he couldn't. He didn't know what they meant. He didn't know what true remorse was. Yet looking at his pained expression, those unearthly features creased with worry, perhaps he did.

"For what?"

"For everything," perhaps he was learning. Perhaps he knew. "For wrongly accusing your father."

A wave swept in, and I was thrown off the cliff, completely submerged beneath all that he was, my head caged in his hands while I struggled to open my eyes and draw breath.

"Oh."

"I made a mistake and I will make sure to rectify it," his eyes were fierce, his thumb at the corner of my lips as he choked on a curse and stilled.

"Why?" I finally asked what I'd longed to, still not entirely sure I believed him. The way he'd touched me, kissed me, tortured me all said it couldn't be true. Yet the rational part of my brain said otherwise. That it was instinctual, a desire so wild, our inexperience in matters of lust and sex had no room to breathe.

To exist at all.

"Because it's the right thing to do," he turned to me, perplexity dancing within his eyes, letting me settle in, the bed dipping under our combined weight. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

I did.

But it just seemed so simple. So easy right now.

Chewing on my lip and after staring at him for endless moments, I gave in to the urge to crawl closer and laid my head upon a pillow soaked in his scent. I was tempted to roll my face into it, tempted to rip it to shreds with my hands. Always pulled in two opposing directions. I shook my head, smiling even as something inside me screamed to snuggle in closer and kiss his annoyingly handsome face.

Then he laid his head down below the pillow next to mine, eyes searching, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Beautiful was too small a word to describe him. He was magnificent, terrifyingly intimidating, and so utterly enchanting it captured each trembling breath. Despite every natural instinct I'd been born with screaming not to, I surrendered to the newest one. The one I was still struggling to come to terms with, the instinctual need to be as near as possible. I surrendered, and I curled closer to him.

A satisfied sound climbed up his throat, filled my ear as he dropped his head into my neck, where it stayed for fracturing moments. Then he rumbled, rolling to his side and keeping my body aligned with his, my head placed under his chin above his thundering chest.

"Don't you dare leave."

And I didn't.

Not until morning arrived when he was called away at dawn.

A blade of sun struck my face, rousing me, and I unleashed a raspy groan. Though I shielded my eyes with a limp hand, I stole a moment to bathe in the soothing luster before rolling in the direction of my bedside table.

Ambling around the manor, after having breakfast and spending ten minutes staring at the daily delivery of roses, I'd decided to seek out my best friend. After running into a few people, I eventually tracked her down to the nursery.

"What are you doing here?"

She put a finger to her lips and cracked open the door, motioning for me to go inside. Zohra was asleep in her crib, flat on her back, her limbs splayed. Her delicious cheeks were rosy and her perfect, miniature lips parted, like a heart with a hole in the center. Dark hair curled around her head like a halo, and long lashes fanned her cheeks. I happened to know this girl had the most perfect set of chocolate brown eyes and her thighs had rolls for days.

The cutest baby.

"I'm babysitting. Zeenia has something planned for tomorrow."

"For the new year?"

"Yeah."

I hovered over Zohra, keeping my eyes trained on her back as she slept peacefully.

"What's up? You look awful," my entire body visibly coiled, and she hissed. "What did you do? Have you slept with him?"

Shocked, I stepped back."In a manner of speaking?"

"What does that mean?" she turned from the window, her hand falling to her black slacks, the sunlight catching the beading on her matching sweater and sending orbs over the white walls.

"It means that no we haven't had-" I lowered my voice. "Sex."

"Okay, so why do you look like you're thinking about running away?"

There was no easy way to say it.

"Because he ripped the contract."

She eyed me from across the room, and I eyed her back, unflinching."He ripped the contract."

"Yes."

She tilted her head toward the ceiling, said a small prayer, and turned her body to me.

"Okay, walk me through all of this honey...slowly."

And I did.

I spilled my heart out to her. My fears, Seher's confession, and Taimoor's declaration. She gave me a pointed look that softened infinitesimally when she swept her gaze over me.

"Oh my God, this is a lot," she blinked, and her intrusive gaze returned with a vengeance with one slow, deliberate sweep of her eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Let's try from the beginning..."

"So your feelings for him?"

"Uh."

"You have to confront them at some time or another. Hate to break it to you, but you like him. You really really like him and it seems like he really really likes you too," a satisfied-roughened groan accompanied her next words."You're thinking about it now, aren't you? See this is what I don't get. You were ready to risk it a couple of days ago, what's changed?"

My eyes shuttered, then reopened."Because I wasn't endangering my heart then. We had an expiration date. I could leave without risking anything."

"And now?"

"Now there's no end date. Now it's all real, there's no safety net. That contract was my safety net."

Fariha's eyes flared wide, her hands swept into her hair.

I'd made a deal with the beast to survive. To save my father and to protect my family. But survival was a double-edged sword. It wasn't so simple anymore. And I wanted nothing more than to want the things I'd had to leave in order to remain unbroken.

"Life isn't built on safety nets Daania, sometimes you have to take those risks. Have you thought about what would happen if you would get pregnant?"

Fear curdled in my stomach, acidic and bitter.

"I-"

"Of course, you haven't, you were so adamant about protecting yourself and your heart you forgot that there might be some consequences," I inclined my head as though it wasn't a big deal, and her eyes narrowed with impatience. "I know you've probably thought about this a million times Daania, and I get it. It's not easy. The two of you are complicated as hell...but do you know what I see? I see a girl that desperately wants to do something for herself and a man who pushes her to be her best self. Who supports her to aim higher. Who wants her to shine."

"It's all so overwhelming, it's too much," I stated, then chewed my bottom lip when it wobbled.

She reached forward to hug me. "That's how you know it's worth the risk."

"What if it doesn't work out?" I nearly laughed at the heartbreaking absurdity of it all. Here I was actually contemplating a real relationship with a man who had thrown my father in jail, intimidated me, who I'd blackmailed, who had driven me to face my fears, who I had challenged.

Who had saved me and who I had taken care of.

In these few months, we had been through so much together.

I could have a life with him. Tentative, beguiling, aching, and wonderful, but I knew, I couldn't keep it. That we were playing with borrowed time.

But maybe this could work. Just maybe it was broken enough to be right.

Maybe everything would work out. Maybe we could find a way to make this unforeseen piece of real we'd stumbled into a long-term reality.

"You'll never know until you try," my mouth dried and her voice softened. "You owe it to yourself to try. Be what you've always been, be brave."

༻✺༺

A day later, I inhaled a lungful of floral air, attempting to soothe myself from the inside while I eased the greenhouse door shut. A bunch of blooms were caught in my fist, boasting vibrant petals of every color but the one that depicted my current mood.

The dim lights complimented my current composure. There was something so beautiful about a dark sky with no stars. A reminder that something beautiful didn't need to ask for attention. It was an abyss of darkness, pain, and despair. Yet, as you tried to find eyes in that pit of darkness, you couldn't help but think of how it was beautiful in all of its maddening glory.

I wished I could say the same thing about the darkness that currently surrounded me. But, unfortunately, it wasn't a cloak of warmth; this was retribution. Sometimes, life was too good to be true, and sooner or later, you had to pay your dues.

How many times had I just gone about my day oblivious to the darkness brewing around my father with the warm sun rays on my face, dancing in the rain, and smiling at how lucky I was.

"Hiding in the darkness?"

His smell was a drug clogging my throat, stopping me from drawing a deep gulp of air lest I got high and passed out.

"It is my favorite place."

"It's not going to save you from me. I'd always find you in the dark," he said, gently, softly, clasping my chin in his and lifting my eyes to his. "Wherever you go, no matter how far, nor where you hide, this-" he rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip and I watched his pupils explode with my rush of breath. "I'll always find you."

"You seemed to be pretty busy. Didn't think you needed me."

His lips skimmed my temple, a low groan accompanying his words. "My darling little dragon there is yet to be a day, a night, a fucking minute of time when I won't need you."

Hearing his rumbling words, I snapped.

I gripped his face, those smooth and rough cheeks, and kissed him. Gone was the guilt-heavy exploration that had kept me from taking what I wanted before. There was only want, pure and scorching, and tongues and teeth. I tilted his head. He tilted mine.

My body leaned and pushed, needing that hardness to rub against me just a little more, a little higher... I moaned when he pulled back.

With his fingers floating down my cheek to my chin, he tilted it up, whispering. "Open your eyes."

I didn't want to, knowing what he'd see inside them, all the permission he did not need to give me everything I burned for.

"Open them," he said again, firmer, a dark order I could not ignore.

I surrendered, lashes hovering low, my lids heavy but not as heavy as the weighted need inside me that awaited attention.

Taimoor's lips parted.

"You're the most enchanting woman I've ever seen," he whispered, hand stilling low on my waist. There was a raspy layer atop his voice that I had not heard before. His words were hushed as though they weren't words he'd planned to say, and his brow furrowed. "And also the most infuriating."

He was going to destroy me.

Something cracked inside my chest, but I ignored it.

Not now, not yet.

"We should go outside, it's almost time."

There had to have been two hundred people scattered around the space, but it wasn't crowded in the least. Just a lot of suits and designer dresses. I knew my parents were back in their rooms, choosing to retire early and my sister, Fariha and Riaan were all in the crowd somewhere, ready to celebrate their last night at the manor. I had seen Rania and Azaan from a distance, and we'd left our interaction at a short wave. That was enough for now.

I hadn't been privy to her plans and didn't care for surprises, but Zeenia looked ready to burst. After all the stress of the wedding and the revelations from her ex sister in law, finally a brilliant smile covered her face, her eyes wild with excitement. It was so beautiful, it was downright incapacitating.

"Come on," she whispered in a thrilling hurry. Starlight twinkled over the water's dark surface, highlighting the darker strands marring it that wove along with it like ribbons. The remaining guests of Mughal Manor and the country's elite gathered in the available space, anxious and as intrigued as I was. Staff had assembled in stations around plastic crates at the edges of the garden and began handing out white squares approximately the size of small boxes to the guests.

Taimoor grabbed one and passed it to me then grabbed another for himself.

"What you are receiving right now," Zeenia announced, her voice flowing across the grounds. "Is a sky lantern. Once you have one, please unfurl and hold it by the edges of the ring. Someone will be by momentarily to help you light it."

The paper was delicate like silk, and when I grasped the ring, the balloon unfolded, falling to the grass. The music faded to the background so she could be heard clearly.

"While you wait, please know that these lanterns are one hundred percent biodegradable, made from paper, bamboo, and wax, a Mughal Co. invention. The wind will carry them out over the lake, but we have the fire department on call, also monitoring the launch in case there are any issues."

A man in a staff uniform came to us, carrying a small silver lighter, and lit the small block of wax at the center of my lantern. As soon as it began to burn, he leaned down to grab the paper and expertly flipped the ring over before handing it back to me. The white balloon glowed yellowy-orange and expanded as it began to fill with hot air.

"This is...intense."

"It's the Mughal way."

"You can't quote Star Wars at a time like this."

He smirked and I found myself smiling back.

"But you liked it."

Zeenia surveyed the crowd from the podium.

"We've all seen fireworks, but we wanted a display that you could each be a part of. We're almost near midnight, around ten seconds before the clock strikes twelve, we'll start the countdown and release the lanterns together."

The man with the torch repeated the same process for Taimoor's lantern as he'd done with mine before moving on to assist another guest. I watched the staff with torches work as quickly as possible to ensure everyone was ready for launch, and the balloon in my grasp was already gently tugging to lift off.

I glanced at Taimoor. "Did you know about this?"

"She let me know today."

"All right," Zeenia said, Affandi's arm around her waist. "Since it's freezing and it's eleven fifty-nine, get ready to let go of your lanterns."

"What?" Taimoor muttered under his breath, voicing the same thought I'd had.

"Wait, I was joking, let's wait till the countdown to one!" there were humorous and appreciative groans from the crowd."And here we go. In three, two...one. Release!"

I let go, and as if it were attached to a string, my lantern went straight up. Taimoor's rose faster than mine, and mine quicker than some of the people around me, as ours had more hot air inside.

"Happy New Year," Zeenia cheered, giving Affandi a kiss on his cheek, her arms wrapped around her husband, their eyes fixed on the sky. The night sky instantly became a rising sea of countless flickerings, glowing lanterns, floating among the stars, and the crowd gasped in awe. I nearly did as well.

It wasn't a word I'd used before, but nothing else would suffice. No other word did it justice.

Magic.

Magic and hope that Zeenia had created, and as I looked around at the guests, their heads lifted and their mouths hung open with astonishment, I lost the ability to breathe. I'd seen fireworks before. Loud, colorful shows to impress people, but they were quickly forgotten. This silent display was a once-in-a-lifetime memory. People rushed to pull out their phones so they could take pictures and videos, and hope swelled inside me.

Our gazes connected and I sucked in a breath.

My breath and my heart refused to move in sync. I shivered from the base of my neck to the tips of my toes, hooked by his stare.

Somewhere between loving and losing, hurt and happiness, we were finally letting go of all the impossible standards we held ourselves to. This was it, true magic. The ability to heal, to forgive, to move forward.

To mend and to grow.

To live.

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And we're back! Happy New Year everyone! This chapter was supposed to come out last Friday (sorry about that) but I got my booster and uh... yeah it wasn't pretty. This chapter was supposed to coincide with our new year but whatever 😂

I won't say a lot, just wanted to get your feedback! You know I love reading your comments and you guys have been slacking on that 😞

So how'd you like the chapter? Thoughts? Feedback?

I'll see you all real soon 🤍
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