𝟐 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗.

𝕴 stood in the kitchen and lay my hands flat on the countertop to prevent myself from hurling the thoughts in my head at my mother. I was livid. So angry, it solidified my muscles and made my backache from the weight of it.

Last week I'd started going through the documents as soon as I was home from my appointment with the financial advisor or had the opportunity to arrive before midnight. It had been two months since my world had been shattered. And in that time, miraculously, no bills had arrived.

Suspicious about this turn of events, I'd decided to stay home this weekend. Just to see how my family was coping. I walked to the counter, forcing myself to sound light and casual. "Hey. Did we get any bills?"

"Oh, I didn't know you were home," she bobbed her head in a nod. "Yeah, they're on the counter."

She soaped the dishes and used one wet hand to point to the stack, and a sickening, sour taste filled my mouth. "I've seen them. There are no bank statements, no loan payments nothing."

"What?" she asked over the running water.

My voice was loud and pointed. "Where are the bills?"

She stilled. Slowly, she turned off the water and turned to face me, her panic barely disguised. "I don't know what you mean."

Shit, she was a terrible liar. It only fueled me to move forward, opening cabinet after cabinet. When I reached for the one at the end, she sucked in a deep breath. It was because when I jerked the door open, I was met with several shelves of mail. The cabinet was full. Weeks' worth of bills had been hidden here. I scooped out a stack of letters in disbelief, some of them spilling onto the counter below. There were red 'past due' and 'urgent' stamps on a few. Not a single one had been opened. I set my hands on the counter, infuriated and crushed with disappointment.

She whispered, "I know you're upset, but—"

"Yes," the voice that spoke didn't sound like it belonged to me, but it couldn't have come from anyone else.

Her bottom lip trembled. "It's just . . . you have so much on your plate right now, and your father and I didn't want you to worry."

"Oh, my God," I snapped. "That's such a lie."

She scowled. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm your mother."

I snatched up one of the bills before me, tearing open the envelope as I spoke. "Except I'm the only one with any responsibility around here. What were you thinking? You can't just ignore this and believe it's going to go away," tears of anger burned my eyes, making my vision bleary and the credit card statement I'd opened hard to read.

"We're not ignoring it, we just need a little more time."

"Time for what? For Taimoor to write me a fifty-million-rupees check?" it looked like I'd kicked her in the stomach, but it was hard to feel much sympathy for her. My anger burned so hotly inside me, it consumed all other emotions. I stared at the charges printed on the paper and my focus zeroed in on the date. "This is a letter from Nazia's university! We're overdue," I jammed the statement at her, my finger on the line pointing it out.

I swung away, unable to look at her, but there was no escape for me. It was far too late for Nazia to apply for a student loan, and who would give her one, anyway? We were supposed to be part of the rich upper-middle class, with coffers full of money.

"It must have slipped past us," she mumbled. Like that would solve anything. My mother had lived her whole life as an entitled and privileged woman. Even as level-headed as she was, her behavior would never change.

I said nothing to her. I simply stared at my family's financial ruin and tried not to cry.

Eventually, my silence drove her away, and I was grateful she wasn't near. I assumed she went to her room to feel sorry for herself some more, rather than do anything about her situation. I pulled down the ignored bills and notices, flinging them to the floor until they were a puddle of debt at my feet. I dropped down beside it, my back against the lower cabinets, and began to open each one.

Sometime later, Fariha found me there, neat piles sorted by priority gathered around me. She barely blinked at how I was sitting on the floor of the kitchen or what I was doing. To her, it wasn't all that surprising. As she slid down the cabinets to sit beside me, I sighed. I was frayed and raw, and there were bigger things to worry about than my feelings.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks."

"Do you see this?" I grumbled gesturing to the pile of envelopes at my feet. She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes flicking towards the door and back. My pulse slowed to a crawl. "What's up?"

"I know family loyalty is a south asian thing. I know that we've been brought up with this mindset. But you don't have to fix them Dany. These mistakes are not yours to fix," she groaned and roughly ran a hand through her chestnut hair that still fell perfectly back into place after the assault. "Have you ever thought that their denial is all because of you? That because you've taken everything in control they don't know what else to do or say? That you've assured them that they can continue as is?"

"What else am I supposed to do? Let them starve? And if not me then who?"

"I get that you feel like it's your responsibility. You've always been like that but sometimes Dany, we're trying to fix things that are beyond repair. You can't work yourself to death to restore the sixty years of wealth and luxury in six months. That's just not possible."

"I can try to get the last fifteen," I said firmly, feeling it in my bones. In four months, I would be armed with financial resources and this would be a mountain I could climb.

"No, you can not. Maybe it's time to accept that and move on. Move on to bigger and better things."

"You don't understand."

"No I don't understand. This is the first weekend you've taken off. You're hell-bent on restoring your father's reputation and your mother's pride. Have you seen what you look like? Have you even bothered to look in the mirror? This isn't your responsibility. None of this is your responsibility," I patronized her with a look, hating her logic and her calm demeanour.

"Yeah well... I can't just leave them."

"You don't have to leave them. Just make them realize it."

"Yeah, I'll let you know how that works out."

"You're losing yourself Dany. Where's my firey independent best friend?"

"She doesn't have the luxury to exist Fariha. She's..."

"Lost."

"Tired," an unwelcomed sensation folded my stomach in two."This would be so much easier if they would support me. I can't ask Nazia, she's already looking for a part-time job to fulfill her expenses. Mama won't even speak to me. Baba thinks I've committed a sin," I was on overload, but I refused to succumb to my emotions. Crying wasn't going to solve anything. "He hasn't talked to me ever since he got home. Do you know how painful that is? To see your father roam around the house like a ghost? To not even look at you?"

"It's going to be okay..." she said softly, the thread of tenderness in her voice nearly unraveling me.

"I don't know if it's going to be okay. Their pride won't let it be okay. They can't wrap their heads around the fact that they're broke. That we need to readjust."

"It can't be that bad."

"Mama disappeared for a day because she couldn't stand being cooped up in the house with my father. My level-headed mother doesn't want to face reality just because her husband has become a recluse," numbness took up residence in my heart. "They're falling apart from the inside. The guilt is eating them alive. Their marriage is falling apart," it was the first time I'd seen my father break down, when he couldn't find her in the house, and it was unnerving. "Nazia uses the house as a hotel. We barely see her. She's applying to every possible internship or job offer she can get and all we see is her back when she's rushing out of the door."

As the sea of words spewed from me, my brain frantically tried to figure out where this was going. Where we were going. I rambled what came to my mind in bits and pieces, trying to get her to understand, for someone to understand. Sitting there, in the house..., I felt like fraying threads, releasing frayed emotions into the winds that would take them away.

"I can loan you guys some money..."

"I appreciate that Fariha, but we don't need money. I want them to be present. They've just given up. Avoiding this isn't going to make it go away!"

"And what about you? Are you 'present'?"

"Look. I know my boss can be difficult."

"No, your boss is not difficult, Daania. He's an asshole. I know it, you know it, everyone in Islamabad knows it. He's made you stay at work late at night, asking you to go over the codings twenty times."

"Technically that wasn't him, that was our team lead, she made the whole team work late at night. He hasn't talked to me ever since I walked out of that office two months ago," and I'd spent an unhealthy amount of time obsessing over that and wondering what the hell had happened. Had I done something wrong? Or had the whole thing just been one massive mindfuck?

"That's beside the point."

"Okay, fine. He's an asshole. I think you're being unfair about this, though. It's not like we have any other options! The bank isn't ready to renegotiate, Mama isn't ready to sell the house, Nazia needs to complete her undergraduate degree. He would throw Baba in jail Fariha. He would do it and he wouldn't be wrong to do so. Baba's sick and he needs medical attention. He needs love and care. If I can step up and try to ease some of that burden..."

"Have you asked him what he wants?"

"I-"

"Yeah. Maybe try doing that," I shifted uncomfortably on the floor, wanting to get away from what she was telling me. I couldn't even smile, her words and her hurt were hurting me. "I came here to remind you that I'm getting married."

Of course, she was. She'd told me months ago. "I know that."

"The engagement party is tomorrow."

"I... thought that was in two months?"

"It's been two months," I scrambled to my feet, knocking over some of the piles I'd spent more than an hour organizing. "Oh my God," I whispered, pressing a fist into my stomach, desperate to feel anything other than nausea sweeping through me. My guilt shifted from slimy hard-to-swallow ice to dreadful despair in an instant as the realization hit me."I'm so sorry."

She climbed to her feet, scattering more of the bills around us, looking lost."Don't be sorry. Just make sure you show up."

༻✺༺

Back and forth. My mind was like a see-saw all day. Fariha's words wouldn't stop echoing in my mind.

Should I indulge myself? Would a night out actually help the family image? If my mother's smile was any indication, she was thrilled to know my sister and I would be attending Fariha's party. According to her, this was a networking opportunity, to find allies, well-wishers. People who might be sympathetic to our plight.

Putting all of my eggs in Taimoor's basket would be an amateurish mistake. With our situation, we would need all the help we could get. With a plan of action drafted up, the helplessness inside me dimmed just enough for me to straighten, stand up, take out a dress, and calm down.

The deep red dress had been altered to fit me, but I held my breath as Nazia finished tugging the ribbons tight at the back. It was a personal favorite, custom-made, a rare design, with geometric cutouts installed in the back. Coupled with a low neck, the dress was a killer outfit. I gathered the net dupatta in my arms and put on my golden jhumka 's. The last time I'd had the dress on, I'd felt powerful, and I hoped the magic was still there. I needed every ounce of strength today.

With a final swipe of my mascara I gave myself a final look. Deep rich russet eyes and a pouty cherry mouth made my heart tumble. I looked... normal. Happy.

I stared at the finished product in the full-length mirror barely recognizing the girl staring back at me.

Nazia sighed wistfully. "It's like you're a princess," her expression full of admiration. "You look breathtaking."

I swallowed hard.

"Thank you," I replied turning around and brushing her hair away from her shoulder, admiring her gold organza shirt. "You look stunning."

'Dany," my gaze dropped down to her hand clinging to my wrist, and I understood her sudden exclamation, the underlying subtext. She was concerned about me. "This won't be easy."

"I know."

"Good," she looked relieved, but her grip on my wrist tightened. She scrutinized my face and it was impossible to tell if she was checking my mental state, or if my makeup needed a touch-up. Her voice went low. "It's a lot. I know."

I gave her the best smile I could manage. "Don't worry about me, I'm okay."

We stepped out of the car, my heels clicking on the large black and white marble tiled floor in the entryway. Fariha's elaborate engagement party was ideal to present the newest couple of an elite family. As I caught sight of truffles dusted with gold, I wondered how much they spent on renting this place. . . or if they owned it and all this décor was added simply for the show of it all.

I didn't belong here. Not anymore, as evidenced by the snickering looks thrown my way, although I could barely hear anything over the pounding of my heart as it wrestled against my rib cage to escape. My family was broke, and it seemed like everyone knew.

I stayed towards the shadows, not wanting to be a part of the gossip. Nazia, however, played her role flawlessly. She engaged herself in the conversations and was witty, while I just smiled and nodded, offering nothing but my ability to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide. Keeping my clutch close to my side, I walked easily to a lone table and tried to decipher who was who. After all, we did come here to make connections, the only way I could justify going out.

My sister and I were to be ambassadors of sorts for my father. To keep the pretense and use our elegance and grace to remind the ton that we were one of them. Time ticked and the crowd thickened. I loitered, gathering my composure and forming a plan. Approach, laugh, be conversational, but when the time was right, mention the investments.

"Daania? Beta, is that you?"

"Uncle H!" Mr. Hassan, or Uncle H as he was affectionately called, was in his fifties with thinning hair on top, but I liked how he'd buzzed it close rather than grow it long and comb it over. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and a jet-black suit that fit him perfectly for his daughter's engagement party.

"You look stunning bachay. Have you met Fariha?"

"No, they said I wasn't allowed up to the bridal suite."

"Oh don't worry about that. It's that event manager friend of hers. She probably forgot to add your name to the list, Fariha is right through there," he guided me towards the arched doorway, his sympathetic eyes following his daughter's laughter. "Why aren't your parents here?"

"Baba wasn't feeling well. They'll be here for the wedding," the lie slipped out easily. Almost as if it was rehearsed and practiced before time.

"Well, I look forward to meeting them. It's been a long time. Go enjoy."

I smiled and walked towards the bridal suite, expecting to see my best friend waiting for me. My eyes widened as I watched her. Fariha looked stunning in her violet dress, her expression elated. A collection of people in formal dresses and suits were gathered around her, having their own mini-party away from the critical eyes of the guests. I let out a tight breath, watching her laugh with her friends, her eyes looking at the ring on her finger. Pressure squeezed my body, turning me immobile.

My feet paused and I took a turn, choosing to sit down on a divan so I was hidden from anyone entering the room. People passed in the hall, their gazes on the bride to be. Murmurs and that steady beat of the pulsing music that seemed to coat the walls of the luxury house flowed around me, drowning out my thoughts.

"Hiding?"

I peered to identify the mystical lilt, my eyes catching on to a tall silhouette. The woman in question was classically beautiful. Her look was timeless, in a beautiful black saree, with her long dark hair, big doe eyes, and skin that glowed. She was luminescent.

"Fortifying my defenses," I said dryly. She chuckled and sat down, her tired sigh resonating through my soul.

"I'm tired of talking to people. Pregnancy hormones suck," she cradled one hand under her belly, the tight blouse she wore accentuating its roundness against her otherwise statuesque frame. "Family or guest?" she asked extending her free hand to shake mine.

"Friend," I said, shaking hers. It was small and hardly a handshake at all.

She smiled wide, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "A friend who's hiding?"

"A friend who's... guilty of being a bad friend."

"Oh," she mummered, her eyes catching the expression on my face. "Well, I know a thing or two about that."

"Being a bad friend?"

"A bad wife."

"How bad could you be, you're carrying his child," she smiled warmly.

"Oh, he doesn't think I'm bad at all. To him, I'm perfect."

"Must be nice," I was not sure why the words escaped my lips, but I felt like I could do that with her. She seemed like a kindred spirit.

"All the perks of being in love."

"I wouldn't know."

She turned to squarely face me, her eyes bright and shiny. "Oh, it's wonderful."

"You're very lucky."

"That I am. Tell me about your friend. Why are you here and not with her? You seem like a sane, rational person."

Her question made me want to cry. I felt my face crumple at her concern and I was not even sure why.

"I'm good at pretending," that got a peel of laughter out of her."I got caught up in... work. And I forgot about the people around me."

"That's not unfixable."

"Yeah, that's what I've been doing. Fixing things."

"Where do you work?" guess I walked into that one.

"Mughal Co."

"Really? I used to work there too. Which department?" before I could answer, her phone rang. "Sorry, that's my husband. He's probably going insane, not knowing where I've gone off to. It was lovely to meet you, red rose. I hope I'll see you at the wedding!" I helped her up smiling at her enthusiasm. "Oh and don't worry about your friend. A word of advice? There's nothing wrong in putting your career first. You being here is proof enough that you chose to balance both."

༻✺༺
Thank you @easternbirdiee for this lovely edit 🖤 It's stunning ✨

Also, thoughts? I know this is a looooong chapter. But it was necessary 😄 Comments and feedback will be highly appreciated 🥰 Hold on to your horses, I'm planning to publish another update very soon 🖤

***