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33 | For Each Other

© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

Once again, thank you storiesbyzainab!

Hooriya

My mother had told us about our two Khallas, Mariyam and Fiza, but she had told us that due to a difficult family history, they didn't get along with Mama and Saim Mamu. Knowing my mother and her unconditional love for her twin brother, I didn't think that the sourness with her relationship with her sisters was her fault.

"My father- our father- cheated on your Nano." Mariyam Aunty told me as we sat in the common area of the shelter. I didn't want to refer to her as 'Khalla'. The relationship of a Khalla was pure and beautiful, almost maternal. I didn't even know this woman. "He then married my mother and had me and Fiza."

It suddenly made even more sense why my maternal grandfather was rarely discussed. All we'd known was that he had passed away when Haya and I were newborns.

"I wish I had something to give you. I'm interacting with my niece for the first time." Tears filled her eyes and she reached forward, as if to place her hand on my cheek. 

Without even thinking, I stood up. "It's okay. I don't need anything."

We only had biological uncles and non-biological Khalla who seemed almost biological. There must be a reason Mama rarely talked about her half-sisters, and I trusted her reasons. I didn't want to get involved in this. I had too much going on right now to fall into the trap of long-lost relatives.

"Wait." She grabbed my wrist as she stood up as well. "Is that girl... is she with your brother?" 

My eyes widened as I realised that this random Khalla might have witnessed the family drama that had occurred right after me and Haya had almost gone run over. "Khalla or not, with all due respect, that's none of your business." 

Her face hardened, but she didn't say anything.

I turned and left the room, feeling shaken. I was not having a good feeling about this!

*

Aizah

I headed towards the resort dining hall for lunch. Dressed in a brown shirt that was shorter from the front and lower from the back, along with floral trousers with grey and cream patterns, I was ready to take a break from another day of meetings and discussions.

*I literally ended up ordering this outfit! 🙈

"Aizah Appi!"

I turned and saw Faizan running towards me. "What?" 

He caught his breath for a few moments before speaking. "I'm heading to Lahore."

"I thought we were going to go together over the weekend?" I frowned. 

"Issa called. He had ideas." He grinned.

"Those ideas should involve me too. I'm a cousin too." 

"Boys only." 

I rolled my eyes. "You boys go and act immature, while this mature girl conquers the world." 

"Aww, don't be jealous, Aizah. I promise that what we have planned won't be fun for you anyway."

"Yeah, I have no doubt about that." I glanced at my phone. "Now excuse me. I have forty minutes before I need to get back to work. Let me eat in peace." I continued walking.

"Aizah Appi." 

I turned to look at him.

"Issa gave me some emergency numbers of family friends who reside in the Islamabad area. In case you need anything, give them a call, okay?" His voice was quiet, with the overprotective tone of a brother obvious.

"I'll be fine, Faizan. Don't worry." 

"Good, because if you get in trouble, I'll be keema at next week's dinner." He grinned again. "Papa and Farhaan Bhai won't spare me."

"Don't worry. If I end up in a troublesome situation because of you, I won't spare you either." I smiled confidently, tossing my hair over my shoulder. 

*

Faizan

I decided to be adventurous and that meant that I took a coach from Islamabad to Lahore.

Flopping down onto the window seat, I politely smiled at the uncle in cream shalwar-kameez who ended up taking the seat beside mine. As I unzipped my bag to get my headphones out, I heard a conversation.

"Tere peyo di wadi pehan aan. Waikh diyan o kaise behas karda ay mere nal." A woman spoke in Punjabi as she walked down the aisle. Seemingly in her forties, she had a colourful mirrored shawl draped over her head and was carrying a small duffle bag. 

*"I'm your father's elder sister. I'll see how he argues with me."

"Par tussi jaande ho unha noon. Meri safety de maamle wich o kuch nai sunde." A younger female voice replied and the owner of the voice stepped into my vision. My heart almost stopped as I recognised the girl from the airport. Miss Sameer. Dressed in a green shalwar kameez suit, wiht soft vanilla yellow patterns at the end of the kameez and by the neckline, and with a plain matching dupatta, Miss Sameer's hair curtained her face, and as she rolled her eyes in exasperation, her nose ring sparkled in the sunlight coming in through the window across the aisle from where I sat.

*"Yeah, but you know him. When it comes to my safety, he doesn't listen to anyone."

Much to the irritation of the long queue of passengers behind them, the middle-aged woman turned to face the young girl. "Tu koi Bhutto ya Sharif thodi hegi jo tu ik mamoli jeya coach da safar nahin kar sakdi guards te baghair."

*"You're not a from the Bhutto or Sharif [Pakistan political familes] families that you can't travel on a simple coach trip without guards."

"Tussi jaande nai ho? Sameer Muzaffar di kudi haan main. Koi choti gal thodi hai." And then she continued speaking English in a British accent. "You know how dramatic he is since that incident."

*"Don't you know? I'm the daughter of Sameer Muzaffar. It isn't a small thing."

The two carried on walking and I took my phone out. Hesitantly, I typed in the name: Sameer Muzaffar.

Documentary filmmaker, Sameer Muzaffar. He made a documentary on women empowerment in Islam, which had been recognised on an international level. The intention of the documentary had been to clear the misconception that the world had in regards to how women treated women. The documentary, from what I read, had commentary from Islamic scholars as well as international theologians who provided evidence, referencing to not just the brave and powerful women of Islam, but also as to how Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W) showed respect. 

Naturally, the documentary had triggered extremists- the kind of people who claimed to follow Islam, but did everything that opposed it. And so, Sameer Muzaffar and his family required 24/7 guards. He had a wife named Eleanor Sameer, and an only child, Saliha Sameer.

Call me stereotypical, but for the daughter of an international renowned filmmaker to be travelling on a coach between two cities of Pakistan is unusual.

I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes with a small smile on my face.

"Puttar, khidki te kholde zara." The uncle next to me said.

*"Son, open the window a little." 

I obliged and was glad I did because the warm breeze felt good. 

*

I woke up and realised the coach wasn't moving. I sat up, yawning and glanced out of the window. We had stopped at motorway services. Standing up, I stretched my arms out.

"The dead will rise with the sound of your yawn." A bored and sarcastic voice made me freeze.

I slowly turned and saw Miss Sameer standing a few rows behind. "That's cool. I'm an expert in zombie video games." 

Her eyebrows rose up in surprise and a small smile automatically appeared on her face. "Londoner?" 

"I don't like the labels. I'm a wanderer in this huge world. But I suppose the home base is London." I shrugged, standing in the aisle and resting my arms out on the tops of the seats on either side. "You?" 

"I was literally born in a plane, somewhere over Europe." She shrugged. "Tadayi hawawanch phirdi rehndi aan, according to everyone I know."

*"That's why I'm not very grounded."- closest translation I could think of.

"Do you get at least a lifetime of free tickets on that airline?" I asked.

She grinned. "Of course. They even send me a birthday email each year." 

"I'm Faizan Faiz." 

"Wow, creative name." She said. "I'm Saliha Sameer."

"Well, my dad's best friend used to teasingly call him Faizan, so here I am, blessed with that name." I explained.

"My mum was reading a romantic novel with the main character named 'Saliha' when she was pregnant. So here I am, blessed with that name." A soft giggle escaped her mouth.

My phone started ringing, and with a smile on my face, I excused myself and answered it. "Hey."

"Kithay pohancha ay tu, khoteya?" Issa's loud and cheerful voice came through.

*"Where have you reached, you donkey?" 

"Stopped on the services between Islamabad and Lahore." I replied. "You coming to pick me up from the bus station?" 

"Mama is coming with me too. She's super excited that her beloved nephew is coming, although she'll give you a lecture about coming without Aizah." 

"Oh, it's been a while since I heard a lecture from Dani Phupho." I smiled as I thought about how she used to tell us boys off when we used to annoy the living daylights out of Aizah.

"Farhaan will be missing out." 

"Farhaan Bhai gives zero s**ts about us becharay now that he's married." I grinned. "We're like immature bachay to him now." I glanced over my shoulder. Saliha had sat down and now I could only see the top of her head. "Marriage changes everyone."

"When are you planning your wedding?" 

"Meri maa noun sakoon da saans te lainde, Issa. Hale te wade munde da waiya kita ay." 

*"Let my mother rest for a bit, Issa. She just got her elder son married."

"Trust me. She's a desi mom. She'll already have started thinking about her doosri bahu."

My smile faded away. Right now, Mama was concerned about Aizah more than me. I hated this. I knew that unintentionally, subconsciously, all these little things were eating away at Aizah as well. Desi society really wasn't fair with girls!

If only people realise that without the will of Allah, not even a leaf moves. So how can a person find their life partner until He wills it? Anyone who questions the lack of marriage is questioning Allah's decisions. I just wished that most people got educated enough to understand that one day, so that girls like my sister didn't have their hearts feel that ache that I just knew that Aizah felt.

*

Hooriya

"What is this gibberish?" I looked at the Excel document, blinking repeatedly.

"This gibberish is something you need to familiarise yourself with." Farhaan told me. 

"How about I do all the fun tasks and you take the gibberish?" I suggested.

I was sitting on his chair at his desk in his office at the B&B, and he had dragged over the chair from the other side of the desk as he started to teach me all the technicalities behind running a business. 

"I'm an English kind of girl, not a mathematical person."

"This is basically the inventory. How much we need against how much we actually have." He explained, pointing at the screen. "Like, we're running short on towels."

"We wouldn't, if the boss stopped showering in a vacant room..." I teased him.

 "Well, I would if you stop taking me to said vacant room for 'breaks'." He shot back.

"What can I do?" I reached forward to run my fingers through his hair. "It's beyond my control." I pulled back, sighing. "Maybe it's not a good idea that we work together."

"There's nobody I'd trust more to take care of this place, Hoor. I need to teach you." He said, softly.

I clasped my hands with his, our gazes locked. I suppose it was safe to say that we were still not out of our honeymoon phase. I even suppose it was safe to say that we were crossing the line of professionalism by sneaking off to an empty bedroom on a daily basis. Most of the time we just ended up making out and cuddling, but I'm sure the staff must suspect something else. We wanted to stop, but I felt like we were both finding each other overwhelmingly attractive in this business environment.

He stood up then leaned down to nuzzle the side of my head. "You know, Hoor...room ten is available today..."

I looked up at him and crossed my legs to hold back the intense desire suddenly building up. "Our room?"

"Our room." He repeated, his lips brushing my forehead. Grabbing onto my hands, he helped me up. 

I pressed my hands against his chest, staring up at him, breathing hard.

With a cheeky grin, he took my hand and led me out of the office. Locking the door, he led the way up to room ten.

*MATURE SCENE*

He unlocked the room using the master card, and we barely stepped through when our lips collided in a powerful, heated kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he grabbed me by the bottom and lifted me up, causing me to wrap my legs around him. 

It was still the middle of the day, and bright sunlight poured in through the windows and over the neatly made bed. 

We're about to have s*x at work. We should stop.

Oh, come on, Bore-iya. Live a little. My inner voice was so sarcastic that I questioned whether I was possessed with someone's spirit.

He set me down by the bed, leaning his forehead against mine as a slow, lazy smile spread over his face. His hands were on my waist while mine were already working their way to unbuttoning his shirt. At least I couldn't be accused of not being proactive. "Are you sure you want to do this, Mrs Farhaan? Messing around during work hours?" 

"I don't know. Maybe I want to give 'sleeping with the boss' a whole new meaning." I winked teasingly.

"I think there needs to be some sort of a disciplinary action." He looked thoughtful.

"What, a one-on-one meeting? I like the idea of that." I turned and leaned back against him. "But it's only fair that if I face disciplinary action, so do you. After all, I'm not the only one breaking rules here."

"The boss has no rules." He tightened his arms around me, leaning down until I felt his lips brush the skin of my neck.

"Then the boss' wife certainly wouldn't." 

It was intensely hot in that room, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. I wanted him so much that I was almost surprised by my body's reaction to him.

Within moments we had undressed each other, as our mouths found their way to each other again. 

The thrill of indulging in this desirous act in the middle of the day- during working hours- increased the passion inside me, and as we lay on the bed and he kissed me a soft whimper escaped my mouth as I almost implored him to hurry up and start.

His well-toned body over mine, we lost ourselves in the embrace of desire fuelled by our deep attraction to each other. 

*

The sound of the vibration of the phone made me groan in irritation. I turned over and found my face pressed against Farhaan's back. "Can you shut the phone up?" 

"Did you just ask me to shut the f**k up? I didn't even say anything." He sleepily raised his head up from the pillow.

"I asked you to shut the phone up." I sat up, my hair covering my face. Pushing it off and tying it up loosely into a bun, I glanced around. It was still bright. It felt weird to be in bed like this at this time of the day.  I looked around for the culprit phone that was responsible for this sleep disturbance incident. The sound was coming from somewhere on the floor. Probably where we'd gotten ridden of our clothes. "It'll shut up itself." I muttered, lying back down in bed and pulling the duvet over. 

He sat up. "It might be important." He looked over at me. "I'm going to shower and head down. You can sleep if you want. Just remind me to put in a note to request housekeeping for this room in the morning." 

"No guests but housekeeping required. How would you explain that?" I smiled.

"I have stayed over here the night before."

"The night." I sat up again, moving closer to him. "How will you explain a messy room right in the middle of the day?" 

"Well, housekeeping won't come till the morning. We won't need to explain." He moved his gaze away from me as the phone started vibrating again. Standing up, he went to look for his phone while I just enjoyed the view. Finally, he found his phone and answered it. "Yeah?" He frowned. "Now?" He glanced at me, while resuming talking to the person on the phone. "Well, when will they be arriving? Okay. Get all the vacant rooms ready."

My eyes widened and I immediately got up, searching for my discarded clothes. 

"Okay. Make sure we have everything ready." He ended the call and turned to me. "Around a dozen tourists arriving here straight from Heathrow. It's a last minute booking and we need to use all rooms."

"Uh- but you just said that housekeeping won't come till the morning." 

"They won't." He gave me a sheepish look. "But as the owners of this place, it's our duty to ensure that this place is perfect to cater guests."

"I mean...technically we did make the mess, so why not?" I laughed weakly as I put on my undergarments. 

And then it was like a race. We both showered- one at a time, while the other attempted to start clearing up. 

The bedsheets were practically ripped off, and Farhaan rushed them down to the laundry room while I put on the clean sheets and pillow covers that I'd gotten from the supply closet. Then I adjusted the things on the bedside table, but I needed an expert to make sure that the room looked...well not like a place where we'd spent a very passionate time. I opened the windows to let in fresh air, and then decided to contact Julia to see if someone could clean up the bathroom after we'd both recently showered.

"Julia, hi." I contacted her through the intercom. "Listen, I had to shower in the bathroom of room ten since...I...spilled coffee over myself. Can anyone come around and clean up?" 

"Miss Hooriya, we don't really have housekeeping staff at this time of the day, but I'll see what I can do."

After the call ended, I paced the room nervously and jumped when the door opened and Farhaan walked in. "Does it look like...?" I swallowed hard.

"Like we just had s*x in here? Not really." He grinned.

"This isn't funny!" I put both my hands on my face. "I'm mortified! If someone realises what we've been up to..."

"Hum badnam hojayainge!" He chuckled. "Relax, Hoor. Whatever happened was behind closed doors, between a married couple. Who cares what people realise or think?" 

*"We will be disgraced!"

"Do you know how desi Karens can make a huge deal out of this?" 

"Do you see any desi Karen around here?" 

"Apart from you?" He grinned.

I gasped and grabbed a throw cushion and threw it in his direction.

"Just relax and forget about anything but ensuring that this room is ready for guests, okay?" He walked over to me once he had stopped laughing. He held me in his arms. 

"I can't believe this happened."

"Seriously, Hoor. Just because we own a B&B doesn't mean you let your desires control you!" 

"Farhaan!" I glared at him as he laughed again. "This is your fault."

"Oh, Farhaan...Please...I can't wait any more!" He whispered the words I'd groaned out only a little while ago.

My cheeks turned red, but he just held me in a hug, chuckling. 

*

Haya

"No, Mama. You have to come." Yamna sobbed as she spoke to her mother on the phone. "I want to come home."

Apparently she had just received the news that she had to stay the night at our house. Normally, Yamna would be excited. But today she was crying, which confused me.

"What did you say to her?" I glared at Rohaan automatically.

"I didn't!" He replied, defensively.

"Yes." Yamna continued. "I'll be with Haya Appi tonight." 

Previously, every time she spent the night at ours, she used to stay with Hoor, because Hoor was always the sweetest, most caring one. I was proud to take over that duty now.

After the call ended, Yamna remained huddled up on the sofa, a tear running down her cheek.

"Aww, don't be sad, Yum-Yum. You always stay with us. What's the big deal?" I wrapped my arm around her and kissed the side of her head.

Papa entered the room, having just freshened up after returning from work. "I heard our little sweetheart is staying with us tonight?" 

Yamna immediately got up and rushed up to him. "I want to go home, Tayan."

He crouched down in front of her, frowning in concern. "Why? Aren't you happy to be at your Tayan's house?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and started sobbing against his shoulder. 

"Just to clarify, I didn't say anything to her this time." Rohaan raised his hand up as if in class.

"Yamna, meri jaan, don't cry. Come on, let's play whichever game you want to play, okay?" Papa told her gently. "UNO or Connect 4?" 

"Can I write a story on your typewriter?" Yamna asked him, timidly.

"You can do whatever you want, sweetheart." Papa told her gently. "Haya, take her up to my study and let her use the typewriter."

"Yes, Papa." I placed my hands on Yamna's little shoulders, then guided her towards the foyer. "Let's go, Yum-Yum." 

I had a nagging feeling that I knew what was going on. Yamna had often complained about being teased by the kids in her class. She rarely mentioned any friends, and nor did she ever invited anyone over. I had a terrible intuition that the poor little girl was bullied at school- the kind of bullying that required an adult to step in. Our happy and cheerful Yamna had transformed into a sad and scared little girl who hated leaving her parents' side now. I had to talk to Yasin Chachu or Saba Chachi. This couldn't go on! I couldn't allow anyone to bully our lovely Yum-Yum.

As Yamna settled in front of the type writer, I messaged Rohaan.

<Haya: I feel like Yum-Yum is being bullied.>

He replied almost immediately.

<Rohaan: Yeah, I've been feeling the same. Let's go down to her school and deal with it.>

<Haya: No. We need to tell Chachu and Chachi, and they need to deal with it.>

<Rohaan: Some children behave like ruthless monsters these days, I swear.>

<Haya: Ro, I want to cheer her up. My heart hurts for her.>

<Rohaan: Strawberry ice-cream?>

<Haya: Get it from that store that hands balloons to kids. Get a pink one for Yum-Yum.>

<Rohaan: You want me to bring a pink balloon?>

<Haya: I thought you could do anything for family?>

I looked up and saw Yamna typing slowly, her lips pursed. "You okay, Yum-Yum?"

"I don't hurt anyone, Haya Appi. Why do people hurt me?" She spoke the words that truly shattered my heart.

*

Rohaan

"Yo, hamster!" I brought the pink balloon and the ice cream and called up the stairs. "Look what I got!"

Papa came in the doorway of the living room, giving me a smile. 

"Okay, don't get your hopes up. This is temporary niceness. A ceasefire." I told him.

"You have it in you. You just don't like showing it." He said.

I paused. "Papa, I think Yamna's being bullied at school."

He had been leaning against the doorframe and he straightened up, frowning. "What?" 

"Haya thinks we should tell Chachu and Chachi." I added.

"Haya is absolutely right. Yas and Saba need to get involved, if this is true." My father agreed.

"I don't get it." I shook my head. "What kind of f***ed up people mess with pure innocence?" 

"Rohaan, as much as I am proud of how caring you are towards Yamna, do not use that language." 

"Whoever bullied her, look how they impacted Yamna. Dad, we need to put a stop to it. I have to speak to Chachu ASAP." 

"You do that, but for now we need to ask Haya to see if she's able to get Yamna to open up." 

"What if she's too scared to open up?" 

"Yamna has always been very close to the twins. I'm sure Haya will get her to talk." 

I couldn't help thinking if my teasing had ever contributed to Yamna's misery. I'd always teased her like any other cousin or brother does. I didn't mean to cause her harm or pain. But what if I had unintentionally added to the teasing and suffering she already faced at school?

*

Sophie

"Hey, Sophie." Tamanna Waqas, Mikael's younger sister looked surprised to see me at his front door.

"Hi." I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the another. "Mikael called me. I'm his financial advisor and..." My throat dried up as I wondered, once again, if I'd made a mistake by choosing to help Mikael.

I stepped inside and Tamanna closed the door behind me. "How's family?" I asked, politely.

"Good. Alhumdulillah. How are you?" She asked.

"Alhumdulillah, very well." 

"Hey, Sophie!"

I looked over her shoulder and inhaled sharply as I saw Mikael walking down the hall dressed in white shalwar kameez. "M-Mikael. H-Hello."

He gave me a warm smile. "Thank you for coming by. I'm actually working from home because somebody has to be around to take care of Mama." 

"Oh, that's o-okay. Is she okay?" 

"She's recovering. She had a heart attack a while ago..." He exhaled long and deep. "Why don't you come up to the study? I would like you to have a look at some files and be the judge."

Tamanna was looking at him, then me and then back repeatedly. 

"S-Sure." Feeling uncharacteristically nervous all of a sudden, I followed him. I noticed how his kameez emphasised his built. I noticed the muscular arms, and the strong back. I then decided that I was checking him out and immediately dropped my gaze.

Dangerous territory. Be professional.

But I almost ran into him as he suddenly stopped and turned to face me. I gasped as I almost banged my face against his chest and he instinctively reached out to grab my elbows. His gaze on me made me feel cherished, but I was no fool. My hands curled into fists and after a brief moment of speechlessness, I stepped back and cleared my throat. Yeah, he was attractive. Didn't mean that there needed to be anything between us. Not with the history I shared with his cousin.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries." He also took a step back. "But, are you okay?"

"I have an appointment in a couple of hours. Shall we get started?" I brushed aside his concern as politely as I could.

He nodded and continued walking again.

Clearing my throat again, I gathered my wits and followed him. This is a test for me. I need to be professional, regardless of who I am helping. I need to pass with flying colours. I need to prove to myself that I am a strong woman who is capable of acing her job despite her emotions.

Logic over feelings.

But when has the heart ever been known to quietly and simply back off? 

*

I am not sure when the next update will be, so I quickly wrote one up.

How will Saliha Sameer impact Faizan's life?

Will Haya and Rohaan successfully help Yamna out of a difficult situation?

Would Hoor be able to separate out her business and personal [i.e. passionate] life?

Do you guys trust Mariyam?

Do you guys ship Sophie and Mikael?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!


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