First of all, thank you so much for your love and support and being so cooperative with this situation. Maine ek ek comment parha hai, and I am truly grateful of your support. And yeah, I reported the book and wattpad removed it.

•••

When Laraib went to her room to rest, Kubra made her way upstairs. She intended to talk to Shahzaib, who had retreated from the gathering downstairs. He loves kids, but he is avoiding the crowd.

"Tum theek ho?" Kubra asked, her concern for Shahzaib evident in her eyes.

(Are you okay?)

"Haan, mujhe kya hona hai?" Shahzaib replied with a fake smile, attempting to mask his true feelings.

(Yes, why wouldn't I be?)

"Zara ki shadi..." Kubra began, taking a deep breath and sitting on Shahzaib's bed.

(Zara's wedding....)

"Agle mahine haina. Tum ja rahi ho?" Shahzaib interrupted, his tone casual. Kubra looked at him in surprise, noticing how he feigned indifference despite the pain she knew he felt.

(Is next month right? Are you going.)

"Nahi, main nahi ja rahi hoon," Kubra replied bluntly.

(No, I'm not going.)

"Kyu?" Shahzaib's question was met with Kubra's sharp look, her anger at his attitude palpable.

(Why?)

"Tumhe nahi pata kyu?" Kubra shot back, her frustration clear.

(You don't know why?)

"Woh sirf humari cousin nahi tumhari dost bhi hai, tumhe jana chahiye." Shahzaib said, sitting next to her and trying to explain gently.

(She's not just our cousin. She's your best friend too. You should go.)

"Meri dost hai toh ussey meri bhabhi banna chahiye tha, usne mera dil torha hai," Kubra said stubbornly, her voice edged with bitterness.

(She's my friend, so she should have become my bhabhi. She broke my heart,)

"Jane do, Kubra. Tumne ussey bhabhi banane ka isliye socha kyuki tum meri feelings ke barey mein janti thi, agar tumhe kuch na pata hota toh abhi uski shadi ke liye khushi khushi taiyyari kar rahi hoti. Meri wajah se apni dosti barbad mat karo," Shahzaib tried to reason with her, his voice calm yet earnest.

(Let it go, Kubra. You thought of making her your bhabhi because you knew about my feelings. If you didn't know anything, you would be happily preparing for her wedding right now. Don't ruin your friendship because of me.)

Kubra's eyes filled with tears at his words. "Lekin ab mujhe sab pata hai toh main inse anjan nahi reh sakti," she said, her voice breaking. Shahzaib sighed, feeling a pang of pain.

(But now that I know everything, I can't ignore it.)

"Aur tum itne calm kaise ho?" Kubra asked, her tears streaming down her face. "Mujhe pata hai tum takleef mein ho toh pretend kyu kar rahe ho?"

(And how are you so calm?)

(I know you're in pain, so why are you pretending?)

"Main jitna calm dikh raha hoon utna hoon nahi," Shahzaib admitted, his voice softening. "Takleef hoti hai, lekin main iss dard ko khudpe hawi nahi kar sakta. Zindagi chalti rehti hai, aur hume bhi zindagi ke sath chalna chahiye."

(I'm not as calm as I appear to be.)

(It hurts, but I can't let this pain overwhelm me. Life goes on, and we should move on with life.)

Kubra looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of the pain she knew he was hiding. "Kash yeh sab aise na ho raha hota," she whispered.

(I wish none of this was happening like this,)

"Kash," Shahzaib whispers, then placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Lekin kash pe zindagi nahi guzarti, Kubra."

(I wish,)

(But life doesn't run on wishes, Kubra.)

"Tum Hayder bhai jaisi baatein karne lage ho." Kubra was surprised to hear Shahzaib's words. The boy who was always laughing and joking around was now speaking so seriously.

(You're starting to sound like Hayder bhai.)

"Khoon ek hi hai, kabhi toh asar dikhayega." Jokenly, Shahzaib replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

(We share the same blood. It was bound to show its effect someday.)

•••

"Hyra," Uswa called out softly, her voice carrying a gentle warmth as she peeked into the room, the scent of her shower clinging lightly to her fresh clothes. Her eyes swept over Hyra, who lay there, looking fragile amidst the sheets, her vulnerability palpable.

"Bahar kyu kharhi ho? Andar aao," Hyra's voice, though weak, held a hint of welcome as she struggled to rise, her movements slow and deliberate, betraying her exhaustion. Her eyes softened as she saw Uswa standing at the door, a small smile tugging at her lips.

(Why are you standing outside? Come in.)

"Hayder bhai hain?" Uswa whispered conspiratorially, her eyes darting around the room.

(Is Hayder bhai here?)

"Nahi, woh bahar gaye hain," Hyra replied, and Uswa's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping her lips before she entered, a shopping bag clutched in her hand.

(No, he has gone out.)

"Dekho main kya layi hoon," Uswa exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling as she settled in front of Hyra, the bag cradled in her lap like a treasure trove waiting to be revealed.

(Look what I've got.)

"Kya?" Hyra's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward, her eyes scanning the contents of the bag, a mixture of surprise and confusion crossing her features as she beheld the tiny garments nestled within: skirts, tops, frocks.

(What?)

"Uswa, humare bhatija hua hai, tum yeh layi ho uske liye?" Hyra glared at Uswa.

(Uswa, we have a nephew, and you bought these for him?)

"Nahi, yaar, main larke ke liye hi shopping kar rahi thi, lekin yeh kitne cute the, I couldn't resist," Uswa replied with an innocent smile, her eyes dancing with mischief as she met Hyra's gaze.

(No, I was shopping for the boy, but these were so cute,)

"Lekin yeh toh kisi kaam ka nahi ab." Hyra looked at the clothes, which were indeed very cute but seemingly useless.

(But this is of no use now.)

"Kyu nahi hai? Tumhari beti pehnegi," Uswa said as if it were a simple matter. The smile faded from Hyra's face again. She was in a strange dilemma, feeling a certain longing when she thought about the baby, but then those dreams would slip away when reality hit her.

(Why not? Your daughter will wear this.)

"Kya hua, Hyra?" Uswa noticed the change in Hyra's expression and asked.

(What happened, Hyra?)

"Kuch nahi," Hyra shook her head, a forced smile tugging at her lips as she busied herself with returning the clothes to the bag, a barrier between herself and the emotions threatening to engulf her.

(Nothing,)

"Kuch toh hua hai. Batao mujhe kya hua hai?" Uswa's voice was gentle yet insistent.

(Something must have happened. Tell me what's wrong?)

"Kuch nahi hua hai, Uswa. Achha pata hai main tumhare liye Dubai se kya layi hoon? Ruko, main lati hoon," Hyra tried to change the subject. Uswa realized that Hyra wouldn't say anything now, so she stayed quiet, deciding to talk to her later.

(Nothing happened, Uswa. Do you know what I brought for you from Dubai? Wait, I'll get it,)

•••

Dawar stood outside his bedroom door, hesitating for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Laraib was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her eyes lifted to meet his as he entered. For a moment, they simply looked at each other. The silence was heavy with unspoken words.

Dawar closed the door behind him and took a step closer to sit beside her.

"Tabiyat kaisi hai?" Softly, Dawar asked.

(How are you feeling?)

"Theek," Laraib replied quietly. A deep silence hung between Dawar and Laraib. There had never been such hesitation between them before, but now it felt as if there was nothing left to say.

(Fine,)

"Tum toh apne ghar jane wali thi." The words tumbling out before he could stop them. Laraib's eyes instantly filled with tears.

(You were supposed to go to your parents' house.)

Dawar felt a pang of guilt seeing the tears in Laraib's eyes. He reached out, almost instinctively, to take her hand but stopped himself halfway. Instead, he let his hand fall back to his side. 

"Laraib," Taking a deep breath in, Dawar began. "Mujhe tumhara yaha ana bura nahi laga. Lekin mujhe wajah bhi samajh nahi arahi. Tumhe na toh yaha rehna pasand tha na hi yaha ke log, ab aisa kya ho gaya?"

(I didn't mind you coming here. But I don't understand the reason. You neither liked staying here nor the people here, so what changed?)

Laraib wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, trying to steady her voice. "I... I'm sorry for all that. Mujhe talaq nahi chahiye. Aap jaisa kahenge main waisa karungi," 

(I... I'm sorry for all that. I don't want a divorce. I'll do whatever you say.)

Dawar looked at Laraib in shock at her words, but Laraib continued speaking without looking at him.

"Dawar, main apko khona nahi chahti, aur baby ke baad... mujhe ehsas hua aap kyu apni family ki itni fikar karte hain. Mere paas mere munmy papa ke alawa koi nahi shayad iss wajah se main baki kisi rishte ko kabhi samajh nahi payi, aur main nahi chahti humara baby bhi meri tarah sab rishto se mehroom rahe... Aur main apke begair bhi nahi reh sakti." Laraib spoke her final words with considerable trepidation.

(Dawar, I don't want to lose you, and after the baby... I realized why you care so much about your family. Apart from my mom and dad, I have no one else, maybe that's why I never understood any other relationships, and I don't want our baby to be deprived of all relationships like I was... And I can't live without you either.)

A faint smile appeared on Dawar's face. It was as if those words had atoned for all past mistakes. He couldn't stay away from Laraib either; he wanted their son to have a complete family, too.

"Sochlo, joint family mein privacy nahi milti." Dawar spoke very softly, and Laraib was surprised. She looked at Dawar, who was already gazing at her. The love in his eyes was clearly visible.

(Think about it. You don't get privacy in a joint family.)

"Main... main mummy ke yaha chali jaungi privacy ke liye." Laraib's voice choked with emotions.

(I... I'll go to my mom's for privacy.)

"Matlab agey bhi tum mujhse naraz hoke apne mayeke chali jaogi?" Dawar mocked glared at her.

(Does that mean you'll go to your parents' house every time you're upset with me?)

"Aap naraz mat hone dena mujhe fir." Laraib said.

(Then don't let me get upset.)

Dawar let out a soft chuckle, the tension between them beginning to dissipate. The warmth of the moment slowly melted away the barriers they had built. He reached out, finally taking her hand in his, feeling the familiar touch that he had missed so much.

"Laraib, humare beech jo kuch bhi hua, usme kahi na kahi meri galti bhi thi, mujhe bhi tumhe samajhna chahiye tha," Dawar said gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "Alag rehne ki tumhari demand itni bhi unreasonable nahi thi, lekin gharwalo ke sath tumhara raiwaiyya mujhe frustrate karta tha. Hum dono ko hi thore thore compromises karne honge ek dusre ke liye. Ek dusre ki baat begair gussa hue sunni hogi."

(Laraib, whatever happened between us, somewhere it was also my fault, I should have understood you too.)

(Your demand to live separately wasn't entirely unreasonable, but your behaviour with my family frustrated me. Both of us will have to make some compromises for each other. We need to listen to each other without getting angry.)

Laraib nodded, a sense of relief washing over her.

"Main tumhari sari khwahish puri karunga, Laraib... Tum bhi kabhi kabhi meri koi baat maan liya karna." Dawar squeezed her hand and said.

(I'll fulfil all your wishes, Laraib... You also need to agree to some of my requests sometimes.)

Laraib opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, a faint cry came from behind came. Both she and Dawar turned their heads toward the sound.

"Shayad isko sari attention apni taraf chahiye," Dawar said with a playful smile.

(Maybe he wants all attention on him.)

Laraib let out a soft laugh, a genuine one that warmed Dawar's heart. She lifted their baby into her arms and  gently rocked him, the cries subsiding as the baby settled against her chest.

"Dawar," she said softly, turning back to him, "Mujhe apke pasand ke naam se koi problem nahi hai."

(I don't have any problem with the name you like.)

Dawar smiled, gazing down at their son with a sense of pride and love. "Mujhe Mohsin naam pasand hai."

(I like the name Mohsin.)

"Mohsin Mirza... perfect hai." Laraib's eyes softened at the name.

Dawar reached out and tenderly caressed Mohsin's tiny head. "Main ne Mohsin ke liye kamra bhi banwaya hai apne ghar mein. Tumhe pasand aayega."

(I've also made a room for Mohsin in our house. You'll like it.)

The smile on Laraib's face faltered for a moment. "Mujhe yaha rehne mein koi problem nahi hai. Thora waqt lagega, lekin main adjust kar lungi,"

(I don't have any problem staying here. It will take some time, but I'll adjust,)

Dawar sensed the hesitation in her voice and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Haan lekin main nahi chahta tum adjust karo, tumhara comfort aur khushi meri responsibility hain."

(Yes, but I don't want you to just adjust. Your comfort and happiness are my responsibility.)

Laraib leaned into him, finding solace in his reassurance. "Aur mere liye apki khushi se barhke kuch nahi."

(And for me, nothing is more important than your happiness.)

Dawar placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. They sat there for a moment, holding their son and each other, a newfound determination binding them together. The past misunderstandings seemed distant now, and the promise of a brighter future embraced them warmly.

•••

Sarim stepped into the lounge room of Mirza house, holding a bouquet in his hands. His eyes scanned the room, searching for Kubra. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say a hundred times on his way over, but the sight that greeted him made him pause.

Rafey was there, engrossed in conversation on his phone, but he quickly disconnected the call when he caught sight of Sarim. The crease on Sarim's forehead deepened as Rafey approached him.

"Sarim, kaise ho," Rafey greeted him warmly, his face breaking into a wide grin as he extended his hand.

(Sarim, how are you?)

"Main theek hoon, tum kab aye?" Sarim replied, his voice tinged with irritation, despite his attempt at a forced smile, as he shook Rafey's hand.

(I'm fine, when did you come?)

"Well, you know, wife ko manane ke liye 7 samundar bhi paar karna parhe toh hesitate nahi karni chahiye," Rafey chuckled, scratching his head in jest.

(Well, you know, if you have to cross seven seas to win over your wife, you shouldn't hesitate,)

Sarim's smile remained strained. "Right... Kubra kaha hai?" he asked curtly, his gaze sweeping the room once more.

(Where is Kubra?)

"Yahi thi, par uske sath toh tum ghar pe bhi rehte ho, thora humse baat karlo," Rafey teased, but it only served to irritate Sarim further. He struggled to maintain his composure, the bitterness simmering just beneath the surface.

(She was here, but you live with her at home. Talk to us.)

At the same time, Kubra entered the lounge room, her presence drawing Sarim's attention like a magnet. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, but he quickly steeled himself, determined to remain composed. Yet, the sight of her red, puffy eyes confused him. Had she been crying? Why?

"Kubra!" Rafey called out cheerfully, beckoning her over. "Sarim aya hai."

(Sarim is here.)

Kubra looked up, her eyes meeting Sarim's, a smile gracing her lips. "Assalam-Alaikum, aap kharhe kyu hain? Aiye," she greeted him warmly, her words snapping Sarim out of his reverie.

(Why are you standing? Come in,)

"Haan, Sarim, aao baitho," Rafey said, as he remembered he was the host of the house, and Sarim was still standing.

(Yes, Sarim, come sit.)

Sarim nodded and made his way to sit with Kubra.

"Yeh bhabhi ke liye..." he whispered to Kubra, passing her the bouquet. "Waise kiske yaha baby hua hai?" he asked in a low voice, his curiosity piqued.

(This is for bhabhi...)

(By the way, who had a baby?)

"Dawar bhai ke," Kubra replied, a smile lighting up her face, knowing very well Sarim had very little interaction with Dawar at home, and he had never met Laraib before.

(Dawar bhai did.)

"Main Uswa se chai ka kehta hoon," Rafey announced, preparing to leave.

(I'll ask Uswa to prepare tea.)

"Uswa se? Are you sure? Hyra se kehdo," Kubra asked, a playful glint in her eyes, but Sarim felt bitterness in his heart. Why was she talking to Rafey? Shouldn't her attention be solely on him, her husband? Once again, doubt crept in his heart.

(Uswa? Are you sure? Ask Hyra.)

"Kaisi baat kar rahi ho, meri biwi bohot achhi chai banati hai," Rafey joked.

(What are you saying? My wife makes very good tea.)

Sarim couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched Kubra and Rafey banter so easily. He clenched his jaw, trying to push away the irrational feelings that were bubbling up inside him. But he kept repeating Azma's words over and over in his mind.

"Haan, toh jao, apni biwi se kaho achhi si chai banaye," Kubra teased. Rafey chuckled and nodded before heading off to find Uswa.

(Alright, then tell your wife to make good tea.)

Alone with Kubra, Sarim felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. He wanted to talk to her about his recent behaviour, but he also didn't want to ruin the atmosphere. Taking a deep breath, he decided to focus on the reason he had come.

"Baki sab kaha hain?" Sarim said softly. His gaze softened as he watched her smile when she put the bouquet on the table, the sight easing the tension in his chest.

(Where is everyone.)

"Baba toh so rahe hain, bhai kahi bahar gaye hain. Main Shahzaib aur Hyra ko bulati hoon." Kubra replied, her voice warm and appreciative.

(Baba is sleeping, Bhai has gone out. I'll call Shahzaib and Hyra.)

"Jane do, unhe disturb na karo. Shayad busy ho," Sarim suggested, his tone light. Besides, he wanted to have a private conversation with Kubra. After his discussion with Azma, he felt a pressing need to clear the matter with Kubra as soon as possible.

(Let it be, don't disturb them. They must be busy.)

"Actually, mujhe tumse..."

(Actually, I wanted to...)

Before Sarim and Kubra could delve into a conversation, the entrance of Uswa disrupted their moment. Rafey followed closely behind, a bemused smile playing on his lips.

"Assalam-Alaikum, Sarim bhai," Uswa greeted, plopping down opposite Sarim as if they were old buddies. "Aap se finally meri dhang se mulaqat ho rahi hai. Apki shadi ke baad meri shadi thi, dulhan thi toh zyada mil hi nahi payi, fir Australia chali gayi main... Isliye apse mil hi nahi payi. Chalo ab mil gaye hum." Uswa's face was cast down when she mentioned Australia

(I'm finally meeting you properly. After your wedding, I got married, and since I was the bride, I couldn't meet you much, then I moved to Australia... So, I couldn't meet you. But now we have met.)

Sarim listened to Uswa's rapid-fire explanation, his expression a mix of amusement and incredulity. He hadn't expected such a lively introduction, especially not from Rafey's wife. He shared a bewildered look with Kubra, who shook her head, telling him to get used to it.

"You know," Uswa continued, leaning in conspiratorially, "Mujhe hamesha se lagta tha meri understanding Hyra ke husband se zyada achhi hogi. Hyra meri behen hai so you know. Lekin dekhiye na, uski shadi Hayder bhai se ho gayi, aur Hayder bhai aur meri understanding hona jaise sher aur bandar ek samundar ka pani piye. Lekin mujhe lagta hai meri apse achhi banegi."

(I always felt I would have a better understanding with Hyra's husband. Hyra is my sister, so you know. But look, she married Hayder bhai, and having an understanding with Hayder bhai is like a lion and a monkey drinking water from the same sea. But I think I'll get along well with you.)

"I guess so..." Sarim couldn't help but chuckle at Uswa's analogy, his surprise slowly giving way to amusement.

"Bakri." Kubra corrected her.

(Goat.)

"Huh?" Uswa and Sarim looked at her.

"Sher aur bakri ek ghat pe pani peete hain." Kubra clarified, offering the correct idiom.

(A lion and a goat drink water from the same stream,)

"Nahi Hayder bhai bakri toh nahi lagte."

(No, Hayder bhai doesn't seem like a goat.)

"Uswa!" Kubra called her in a warning tone. The goat was fine, but a little while ago, did Uswa, in her incorrect use of the idiom, call Hayder a monkey?

"Baat yeh hai ki meri Hayder bhai se banti nahi. Achhe insan hain woh, aisi baat nahi hai, bhale hain. Lekin mere samajh mein nahi atey." Uswa gave a sheepish smile and resumed talking to Sarim. She rarely paid much attention to others' comments.

(The thing is, I don't get along with Hayder bhai. It's not that he's not a good person; he is. But I just don't understand him.)

"Samajh sakta hoon, woh thori si aisi vibe dete haina... Gabbar wali," Sarim replied, a hint of laughter in his voice.

(I understand, he gives off a bit of that... Gabbar vibe,)

Kubra, observing the exchange between Sarim and Uswa, couldn't help but interject. "Excuse me?" she said sharply, her gaze flickering between Sarim and Uswa. She was used to Uswa's incessant chatter, but Sarim's agreement with her irked Kubra, and she shot him a stern glare.

"Main bhi yahi kehti hoon, Gabbar Singh ke ustad!" But Uswa was happy that someone agrees with her.

(I always say that, the master of Gabbar Singh!)

Hyra entered the lounge, carrying a tray of tea, with a maid following her, carrying a platter of refreshments. Kubra immediately stood up to help, taking the tray from Hyra while the maid placed the refreshments on the table.

"Achha hua, Hyra, tum agayi," Rafey said with a grin. "Dekho yeh dono Hayder bhai ke barey mein kya keh rahe the."

(Good thing, Hyra, you're here,)

(Look at what they are saying about Hayder bhai.)

"Kya keh rahe hain?" Hyra asked, puzzled, as she glanced at the group.

(What are they saying?)

"Hum kya keh rahe the? Main toh bas tareef kar rahi thi Hayder bhai kitne bhale insan hain." Uswa quickly straightened up, her eyes wide with innocence, while Sarim bit his lip, struggling to hide his smile.

(What were we saying? I was just praising how good of a person Hayder bhai is.)

Hyra took a cup of tea from Kubra, then turned to Uswa with a knowing look. "Mujhe tumhari tareef pata hai, Uswa," she said, making everyone laugh.

(I know your praises, Uswa,)

"Dekho, Hyra, main kuch nahi kaha. Sarim bhai ne Hayder bhai ko Gabbar kaha," Uswa said innocently, making Sarim's eyes widen in surprise.

(Look, Hyra, I didn't say anything. Sarim bhai called Hayder bhai Gabbar,)

"Haan, aur Uswa ne kaha uske bhi ustad," Rafey added, causing Uswa to glare at him.

(Yes, and Uswa said even his master,)

Hyra looked at Uswa, then shook her head in disappointment but Uswa shrugged her shoulder. "Galat toh nahi kaha, tum bhi shadi se pehle yahi bulati thi. Shadi ke baad party badal li toh alag baat hai."

(I'm not wrong, you used to call him that before your marriage too. It's just that you switched sides after getting married.)

"Tum bhi thori si izzat karlo unki," Hyra glared at Uswa, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

(You should show a little respect to him too,)

"Izzat apni jagah, lekin woh Gabbar Singh ke ustad hain toh hain ab isme..." Uswa replied, adamant in her stance.

(Respect is one thing, but if he's the master of Gabbar Singh, then he is, there's no...)

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening interrupted Uswa's sentence. Hayder walked into the lounge room, his presence commanding an instant hush. Uswa's eyes widened, afraid how much Hayder may have heard.

Hayder's expression was calm, though a hint of curiosity played in his eyes as he took in the scene before him. They were oddly silent.

"Assalam-Alaikum, bhai," Kubra was the first to break the silence, her voice hesitant, followed by everyone's murmured greetings.

"Walekum-Assalam," Hayder greeted everyone in his deep voice. One by one, he looked at everyone, Uswa was staring at the fabric of the sofa, while Rafey seemed to be searching for some hidden treasure in his teacup. Sarim was perhaps looking for a fallen coin on the floor, and Kubra was also hesitant to meet Hayder's eyes. Hayder's gaze then fell on Hyra, who was looking down and had her hand over her mouth, as if trying to stifle a laugh.

"Kya ho raha hai?" Hayder finally asked.

(What's going on here?)

Uswa, caught off guard, jumped up so quickly that she nearly spilled her tea. "Bhai, main apke liye chai banake lati hoon," she blurted out, her voice an octave higher than usual. She attempted to stand straight, but in her flustered state, she bumped into door, but she didn't stop and ran away.

(Bhai, I'll make tea for you,)

"Shayad Uswa ko koi help chahiye ho..." Rafey spoke as if Uswa wasn't just making tea, but 5 course meal, which would require the help of an assistant.

(Maybe Uswa needs some help...)

Two people had already escaped. Hayder looked at the remaining three. Sarim wished he could make an excuse and leave too, but as a guest, he had nowhere to go.

"Tum log ko bhi kahi jana hai?" Sitting beside Hyra, Hayder asked, as if reading Sarim's mind.

(Do you guys need to go somewhere?)

Kubra and Hyra looked at each other and could no longer contain their laughter. The sight of Hayder's stern expression contrasted with the absurdity of the situation, making it impossible for them to hold back.

Seeing them laugh, Hayder's irritated nerves seemed to relax, and the faint smile on his face brought relief to Sarim. Perhaps Hayder wasn't as stern as Gabbar after all, though he did have his moments.

•••

Sarim's mind was a tangled web of thoughts, as he drove. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, glancing over at Kubra, who seemed lost in her own world. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken words that he didn't quite know how to start. Should he ask about Rafey? Explain his recent behaviour? Or simply express his feelings?

The streetlights flickered past, creating fleeting patterns on the dashboard. Sarim's mind wandered, replaying the past few days over and over. He was so absorbed that he didn't even notice when they pulled into the driveway. With a soft sigh, he turned off the engine, and they both got out of the car in silence.

Later, in their bedroom, Kubra changed into a comfortable dress and was preparing for sleep.

Sarim sat beside her, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. He watched her for a moment, gathering his courage. Finally, he called her.

"Kubra,"

She turned to face him. It took just a second, but it felt like something had shifted in Sarim's heart.

Was it really necessary to ask her about Rafey? Was knowing the past so crucial that Sarim had wasted such beautiful days of his life? Even if he heard the truth from Kubra, what difference would it make? He had seen Rafey and Uswa today, both absorbed in their own world. If Kubra truly liked Rafey, why didn't her face show any distress when she saw them together? She had spent the entire time with Sarim.

In that one moment, Sarim decided that some things were better left hidden. He didn't need to know why Kubra had said Rafey was her ideal, and perhaps, for his own peace of mind, it was better not to know. It would also be better for Kubra to remain unaware of why Sarim had been distant from her for so long after their marriage.

"Kya hua, Sarim?" Kubra asked.

(What happened, Sarim?)

"Kubra," he began again, this time, his voice was gentle as he struggled to find the right words. "Mujhe tumse kuch baat karni thi..."

(I needed to talk to you...)

"Lekin koi bhi baat karne se pehle main bata doon mujhe tumpe khudse bhi zyada yakeen hai. Bas yeh ek sawal hai jiska jawab mujhe mil nahi raha, tumse janna chahta hoon."

(But before we talk, let me tell you, I trust you more than I trust myself. There's just one question I haven't been able to get an answer to, and I want to know from you.)

"Kya baat hai, Sarim?"

(What is it, Sarim?)

"Kya tumne yeh shadi apni marzi se ki thi?" Sarim thought it was best to start the conversation from here.

(Did you marry me of your own will?)

"Main samjhi nahi." Kubra looked at him with confusion, wondering why he was suddenly asking this question.

(I don't understand.)

"Kuch baat hui thi, jiski wajah se main kafi time tak shock state mein tha, mom se baat hui toh realise hua ki main duffer hoon, choti si baat ka issue bana diya. Aur ab main tumse sab clear karna chahta tha, lekin mujhe lagta hai woh cheez itni bhi important nahi. Mere liye yeh janna zyada zaroori hai ki tum khush ho." Sarim took a deep breath and placed his hand over Kubra's on the bed, beginning to explain.

(Something happened, which left me in a state of shock for a long time, and after talking to mom, I realized I was being a fool, making an issue out of a small matter. And now I wanted to clear everything with you, but I feel like it’s not that important. What's more important to me is to know if you're happy.)

Sarim observed the confusion in Kubra's eyes, realizing that his sudden question had caught her off guard. Sensing her uncertainty, he gently stood up and moved to sit in front of her on the bed, taking both of her hands in his own.

"Kubra," he began softly, his eyes searching hers for any hint of understanding. "I know this might seem sudden, aur main tumhe pareshaan nahi karna chahta tha, bas mere liye yeh janna zaroori hai."

(I know this might seem sudden, and I didn't want to trouble you, but it's important for me to know.)

Kubra nodded slightly, her brows furrowed in concentration as she listened intently.

"Jabse humari shadi hui hai, main bohot kuch samajhne ki koshish kar raha hoon. Meri bachpan ki mohabbat meri biwi hai, yeh khushi ko main celebrate bhi nahi kar pa raha apni hi insecurities ki wajah se." Sarim continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "Ab mujhe ehsas hua ki maine bohot waqt barbad kar diya hai, ab sab theek karna chahta hoon."

(Since we got married, I've been trying to understand a lot. My childhood love is now my wife, but I haven't been able to celebrate this happiness because of my own insecurities)

(Now I realize that I've wasted a lot of time, and I want to make things right.)

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing. "Isliye janna chahta hoon tum khush ho?"

(That's why I want to know if you're happy?)

Kubra remained silent, her eyes locked onto Sarim's.

"Main," she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mujhe apki baat samajh nahi arahi, lekin agar apke liye yeh janna zaroori hai toh... mujhe kisi ne force nahi kiya iss shadi ke liye. Haan apka proposal Shahzaib aur baba ko kafi pasand tha, lekin Hayder bhai ne faisla mere uppar chorh diya tha. Aur maine haan isliye kaha kyuki... kyuki mujhe apki nazar mein apne liye woh izzat dikhti hai jo har larki ka khwab hota hai uska shohar ussey de."

(I,)

(I don't understand what you're saying, but if it's important for you to know... no one forced me into this marriage. Yes, Shahzaib and Baba liked your proposal a lot, but Hayder bhai left the decision up to me. And I said yes because... because I saw in your eyes the respect for me that every girl dreams her husband would have for her.)

A wave of relief washed over Sarim as he listened to her words, his heart swelling with love and gratitude. He squeezed her hands gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, Kubra," he said sincerely. "Tumhe nahi pata tumne mujhe kitni khushi di hai."

(You don't know how much happiness you've given me.)

Kubra returned his smile, but her eyes filled with concern. "Lekin, Sarim, woh konsi baat thi..."

(But, Sarim, what was that matter...)

"Jane do, woh matter nahi rakhti. Meri hi stupidity thi." He replied softly, his voice tinged with regret. "Yakeen mano, Kubra, maine tumse bohot zyada, apni zaat se bhi zyada mohabbat ki hai, mere pichle raiwaiyye ki wajah se shayad tumhe yakeen na aye..."

(Let it go, it doesn't matter. It was my own stupidity.)

(Believe me, Kubra, I've loved you more than anything, more than myself, and you might not believe it because of my previous behavior...)

Kubra's heart ached at the sadness in Sarim's eyes, wishing she could ease his burden and chase away his doubts. She reached out to him.

Feeling Kubra's hand on his arm, Sarim turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden gesture. As she leaned her head on his shoulder, he felt a rush of warmth and comfort envelop him. For a moment, he was taken aback by her unexpected display of affection, but then a soft smile spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Kubra whispered softly, her voice filled with tenderness. "Agar woh matter nahi rakhti toh pehle hui kisi bhi baat aur rawaiyye ko hum rehne dete hain."

(If it doesn't matter, then let's leave all the previous talks and behavior behind.)

"Sarim, aajke ke baad aap jitni mohabbat ki baat karenge main uspe yakeen karungi."

(Sarim, from today onwards, whatever you say about love, I will believe it.)

Sarim felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he listened to her words, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the woman who stood by his side through thick and thin. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Thank you, Kubra," he whispered, his voice filled with love. "Tum mere liye bohot special ho."

(You are very special to me.)

"Aur aap mere liye." Kubra confessed.

(And you are to me.)

•••

In the quiet of their bedroom, Hayder noticed a shopper on the bed and raised an eyebrow. "Yeh kya hai?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

(What is this?)

Hyra, momentarily taken aback, glanced at the shopper, and her eyes widened in surprise. She had forgotten to put those away. "Woh yeh...," she started, but Hayder had already reached into the bag.

(Well, this...)

He pulled out a tiny, frilly frock, its pastel colours brightening the room. A smile instantly spread across his face. "Yeh kab liya tumne?" he asked, his voice softening as he imagined their future daughter in the adorable outfit.

(When did you get this?)

Hyra shook her head, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Maine nahi, Uswa ne liya. Keh rahi bohot cute the she couldn't resist," she explained, watching as Hayder examined the tiny clothes with a tender expression.

(I didn't, Uswa got it. She said it was so cute she couldn't resist,)

"Cute toh hain," Hayder agreed, holding up the frock and picturing a little girl wearing it. His eyes sparkled with joy, but when he looked back at Hyra, he noticed her face was, as always, devoid of any emotion.

(It is cute.)

"Kya hua? Tum itni khamosh kyu ho?" he asked, concern etching his features. Hyra met his gaze, her expression unchanged.

(What happened? Why are you so quiet?)

"Kuch nahi," She replied, her voice steady but lacking warmth.

(Nothing.)

Hayder sighed, placing the frock gently back on the bed. He reached out and took her hand, his touch gentle.

"Hyra, koi baat hui hai kya? Kisi ne kuch kaha?"

(Hyra, did something happen? Did someone say something?)

"Kisi ne kuch nahi kaha." Hyra shook her head, but her eyes still didn't convey the happiness he hoped to see.

(No one said anything.)

Hayder pulled her into a gentle embrace, "koi baat hai toh batao mujhe." He murmured, his voice filled with love.

(If there's something, tell me.)

"Kuch nahi hua." Putting her head on his chest, Hyra said.

(Nothing happened.)

Hayder kept her in his arms when something clicked in his mind. Suddenly, he pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes.

"Hyra, tum khush ho?" He asked.

(Hyra, are you happy?)

Confusing clouded Hyra's eyes, as she opened her mouth to say yes, but Hayder interrupted her. "Mera matlab iss bachhe se hai. Tum khush ho?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing.

(I mean about the baby. Are you happy?)

Hyra fell silent, her gaze dropping to the floor. She didn't know what she felt. When she was about to drown, her first and last worry was her unborn baby, but even now, she couldn't bring herself to be happy or feel attached to the baby.

"Kya chal raha hai tumhare andar? Jab tak tum bologi nahi, main samjhunga nahi." Hayder found his answer in her silence. Slowly, he pulled away and asked softly,

(What's going on inside you? If you won't speak, I won't understand.)

"Pata nahi. Maama kehti hain yeh bohot khoobsurat ehsas hota hai, lekin mere dil mein koi ehsas nahi arahe. Main chahti hoon khush hona, apki khushi dekhke mujhe lagta hai main kitni buri hoon jo apne bachhe ke liye khush hi nahi, lekin... lekin mere andar aise koi ehsasat nahi arahe pata nahi kyu." As Hyra spoke, her voice began to tremble. Her pain was evident in her shaky words and the unshed tears in her eyes. Hayder felt a pang of sorrow in his heart and pulled Hyra into his arms, enveloping her in a comforting embrace.

(I don't know. Maama says this is a very beautiful feeling, but I don't feel anything in my heart. I want to be happy. Seeing your happiness makes me feel like I'm so bad for not being happy for my baby, but... but I don't feel anything inside, I don't know why.)

In a low voice, Hyra confessed, "Mujhe kabhi mukammal mohabbat nahi mili. Hamesha bas sabki humdardi mili hai. Mujhe lagta hai main sabke liye burden hoon." She paused, gathering the strength to continue.

(I never received complete love. I always got everyone's sympathy. I feel like I'm a burden to everyone.)

"Maama bhi yahi kehti hain. Kehti hain mujhe zidd nahi karni chahiye, kisi cheez ki khwahish nahi karni chahiye kyuki hum dusro pe dependent hain. Aur shayad yahi wajah hai mujhe apne bacche ke liye kuch mehsoos nahi ho raha. Jo mohabbat mujhe nahi mili apne bachhe ko kaise dungi? Kahi woh bhi meri tarah hua toh?"

(Maama also says the same thing. She says I shouldn't be stubborn, I shouldn't wish for anything because we are dependent on others. And maybe that's why I'm not feeling anything for my baby. How can I give the love I never received to my baby? What if the baby turns out to be like me?)

Hayder's heart ached as he listened to her. He gently cupped her face in his hands. "Hyra, tum kisi pe burden nahi ho. Meri biwi ho, aur mere liye iss duniya mein sabse khas ho."

(Hyra, you are not a burden to anyone. You are my wife, you are very special to me.)

"Aur tumhe aisa kyu lagta hai tumse koi mohabbat nahi karta? Dawar tumhare liye mujhse larh jata hai, baki sab ko bhi tumhara itna khayal rehta hai. Aur mere liye... tum meri zindagi ho, Hyra, meri saans, mere wajood ka hissa."

(And why do you feel no one loves you? Dawar fights with me for you. Everyone cares about you so much. And for me... you are my life, Hyra, my breath, a part of my existence.)

"Dubara aisa kabhi mat sochna koi tumse pyar nahi karta, bohot datunga main tumhe." 

(Never think again that no one loves you, or I'll scold you a lot.)

Hyra looked into Hayder’s eyes. The intensity of his gaze made her heart race, as if he were trying to pour all his love into her soul through his eyes alone. She tried to speak, but her voice failed her. Instead, a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.

Hayder gently wiped it away with his thumb, his touch as soft as a whisper.

"Aur choti mummy ki taraf se bhi badguman na hona tum. Unka tareeqa alag tha, warna unhone jo bhi kiya tumhare liye achha sochke hi kiya." Hyra didn't say anything in response and lowered her gaze. As her hair started to cover her cheeks, Hayder gently tucked it behind her ear and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes.

(And don't misunderstand your mother either. Her way was different, but whatever she did, she thought it was good for you.)

"Hyra, hum apne bachhe ko woh sab denge jo hume kabhi nahi mila." With those words, he leaned in and kissed her forehead, a gesture so tender it made Hyra’s heart ache in a different way. For a moment, she felt a flicker of warmth, like the first ray of sunshine after a long, cold night.

(Hyra, we will give our baby everything that we never got.)

"Waise," he began, his voice taking on a more playful tone to get her to stop thinking about these things. "Kya kaha tumne agar baby tumhari tarah hua toh? Tumhari tarah hua toh isme kya problem hai?"

(By the way,)

(What did you say if the baby is like you? What's the problem if the baby is like you?)

Hyra blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Mujhe nahi chahiye meri tarah." She replied softly.

(I don't want the baby to be like me.)

Hayder chuckled, a warm and reassuring sound that seemed to fill the room with a comforting presence. "Mujhe toh chahiye."

(I do.)

"Apne bhi kaha tha apki tarah hona chahiye-"

(You also said the baby should be like you—)

Hayder interrupted her gently, "Beta meri tarah hi hona chahiye. Lekin beti mujhe tumhari jitni pyari chahiye."

(A son should be like me. But a daughter should be as sweet as you.)

Hyra's lips twitched, the beginnings of a smile threatening to break through her lingering sadness. "Really?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hayder nodded, his expression earnest. "Haan, bas uska dimagh tumhari tarah nahi hona chahiye, uss mamle mein main ek hi handle kar sakta hoon."

(Yes, just her brain shouldn't be like yours. In that matter, I can handle only one.)

Hyra gasped loudly, her eyes widening in outrage. "Bete ka gussa bhi apki tarah nahi hona chahiye," she retorted. "Main bhi sirf ek hi ko handle kar sakti hoon."

(And the son's temper shouldn't be like yours,)

(I can only handle one of those, too.)

Hayder laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the room with warmth. His dimple became visible, and his dark eyes sparkled with amusement, lighting up his entire face.

"Theek hai, deal," he said, holding out his hand as if to seal their agreement.

(Alright, deal.)

Hyra shook his hand, the gesture bringing a lightness to her heart. "Deal," she agreed, her smile growing.

Hayder pulled her into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping her.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, the worries and doubts momentarily forgotten as they held onto each other.

•••

The morning sun poured through the window, filling the room with a warm, golden glow. The birds were chirping, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside.

Hayder had left for the office with Shahzaib. While at the breakfast table, Hyra noticed Hanif Mirza engrossed in his phone as usual. She frowned slightly. "Baba, aap itna phone kyu use karte hain?"

(Baba, why do you use your phone so much?)

"Toh beta ab main iss umr mein taiyyar hoke school jau? Yahi hai ab meri tanhai ka sahara." Hanif Mirza looked up from his screen and said.

(So, should I get ready and go to school at this age? This is my only companion in loneliness.)

"Aap koi aur masroofiyat kyu nahi dhoond lete?" She suggested.

(Why don't you find some other activity?)

"Sami ke sath cricket khelu?" Jokenly, Hanif Mirza asked, making Hyra smile too.

(Should I play cricket with Sami?)

"Nahi, lekin aap park toh ja sakte hain. Baba, jab main Uswa aur Sami weekend pe park jate the khelne, toh maine dekha tha waha kafi sarey apki age ke log atey the walk pe, exercise karte the, discussion karte the. Apko bhi jana chahiye."

(No, but you could go to the park. Baba, when Uswa and I used to go to the park with Sami on weekends, I saw a lot of people your age walking, exercising, and having discussions. You should go too.)

"Exercise? Huh, main bilkul fit hoon, tum mujhe underestimate mat karo."

(Exercise? Huh, I'm perfectly fit, don't underestimate me.)

"Masha'Allah. Lekin thori si tazi hawa nuksan toh nahi karegi. Achha aaj ap mere liye chale jaye? Apka dil nahi laga toh dubara nahi kahungi wada." But Hyra insisted. The light in Hyra's eyes at that moment was reminiscent of Sayyeda Begum's. Whenever she wanted something, she would persuade him in the same manner.

(But a little fresh air won't hurt. Okay, will you go today for me? If you don't enjoy it, I won't ask again, I promise.)

After a moment's hesitation, Hanif Mirza sighed and put his phone in his pocket, a rare sight in itself. "Achha theek hai, jata hoon."

(Alright, fine, I'll go.)

"Baba, phone," Hyra asked for his phone because she knew Hanif Mirza would likely play games on his phone even at the park.

"Agar mujhe waha kisi ko call karne ki zaroorat parh gayi toh?" Hanif Mirza immediately protested, placing his hand over his pocket.

(What if I need to call someone there?)

"Achha theek hai, lekin aap waha koi game nahi khelenge." Hyra insisted, setting a condition.

(Okay, fine, but you won't play any games there.)

"Theek hai," Hanif Mirza grumbled. "Bahu leke aya tha, amma ban gayi yeh meri."

(Fine,)

(I brought a daughter-in-law, and she became my mother.)

Hyra smiled, satisfied. It was the first time he had agreed to set his phone aside and go out after breakfast. She watched him head to the nearby park, feeling a small victory for his health.

With the house quiet again, Hyra returned to her room when she heard a familiar voice calling her name loudly from outside. She rushed the living room and saw Sami standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and determination.

"Arey, Sami, kharhe kyu ho? Aao baitho." Hyra invited him.

(Sami, why are you standing? Come, sit down.)

As Sami stepped inside, Uswa emerged from her room, too, curiosity evident in her eyes. She paused behind Sami, watching the interaction unfold.

"Main yaha baithne waithne nahi aya hoon, larhne aya hoon." Sami snapped, his voice tinged with anger.

(I didn't come here to sit, I came to fight.)

Before Hyra could respond, Uswa reached out and smacked the back of Sami's head, her voice sharp. "Tameez wameez bhool gaye ho toh yaad dilau? Tumhari itni himmat tum Hyra se larhoge?"

(If you've forgotten your manners, should I remind you? How dare you fight with Hyra?)

Sami winced, rubbing his head, and turned to face Uswa, his expression shifting to one of near tears. "Haan toh main Hayder bhai se nahi larh sakta toh Hyra se hi larhunga na." He complained.

(Well, I can't fight with Hayder bhai, so I'll fight with Hyra.)

"Hua kya hai?" Hyra's confusion deepened, as she asked gently, stepping closer.

(What happened?]

"Tumhe Hayder bhai se kyu larhna hai?" Uswa wondered.

(Why do you want to fight with Hayder bhai?)

"Hayder bhai ne mera bat le liya." Uswa's eyes widened in shock as she processed Sami's complaint.

(Hayder bhai took my bat.)

"Kya? Tumhara bat le liya?" She exclaimed, as if it were the most grievous offence imaginable.

(What? He took your bat?)

Sami nodded, his lower lip trembling in sadness. "Hana, Main ja raha tha dosto ke cricket khelne, raste mein rok diya, kehte hain exams arahe hain parhai pe dhyan do, yeh faltu ki cheezon pe nahi aur mera bat bhi le liya." He whimpered.

(Yes,)

(I was going to play cricket with my friends, he stopped me on the way, said exams are coming, focus on studies, not on useless things, and took my bat.)

Uswa gasped dramatically, as if this were a tale of great injustice. Meanwhile, Hyra, trying to make sense of the situation, looked at Sami with a puzzled expression. "Lekin Hayder ne galat toh nahi kaha, tum wakai cricket ki wajah se parhai neglect karte ho, Sami," she reasoned. "Abhi toh tumhe parhai pe zyada dhyan dena hoga kyuki tumhare boards hain."

(But Hayder wasn't wrong, you really do neglect your studies because of cricket, Sami.)

(Now you have to focus more on your studies because you have your board exams.)

"Tum bhi? Mujhe laga meri behen ko afsos hoga mere uppar hue zulm ka sunke lekin tum toh zalim ke sath ho." Sami's eyes widened, incredulous. He protested, feigning betrayal.

(You too? I thought my sister would feel sorry for the injustice done to me, but you're with the oppressor.)

"Wakai, Hyra, tumse yeh umeed nahi thi!" Uswa seized the opportunity to bolster Sami's argument. She chimed in, shooting Hyra a glare.

(Really, Hyra, I didn't expect this from you!)

"Tumhari shadi bhale se Hayder bhai se hui hai lekin tumhari wafadari hum log ke sath honi chahiye na ki dushman ke."

(Your marriage might be with Hayder bhai, but your loyalty should be with us, not with the enemy.)

"Main toh bas..." Hyra tried to explain to them.

(I was just...)

"Bus rickshaw kuch nahi." But Uswa interrupted her, showing her hand and standing beside Sami.

(Bus rickshaw nothing.)

"Mana boards chal rahe hain, lekin ab kya bachha din bhar parhta rahe? School tuition kam the ki ghar pe bhi parhai ki tension le? Thora sa dil halka karne ke liye agar woh cricket khel lega toh kya jayega Hayder bhai ka?" Uswa said, as if she had been enduring Hayder's tyranny for ages and now had reached the limit of her patience.

(Okay, boards are going on, but does a kid have to study all day? Was school and tuition not enough that he has to worry about studies at home too? If he plays cricket a little to lighten his heart, what will it take from Hayder bhai?)

"Haan, lekin..." Hyra tried to say something again, but Uswa wasn't listening to anyone.

(Yes, but...)

"Ab kehne ke liya kya bacha hai? Humara bachpana toh kabhi enjoy karne nahi diya Hayder bhai ne, ab kya iss masoom ke sath bhi wahi karenge? Aur tum chup chap dekhogi? Mat bhoolo, humare boards ke time woh kaise daat daat ke parhate the hume... aur tumhe mara bhi tha." Uswa reminded her of the injustice she had faced, perhaps expecting Hyra to be moved and not to take Hayder's side.

(What's left to say? We never got to enjoy our childhood because of Hayder bhai, will he do the same with this innocent one? And you will silently watch? Don't forget how he used to scold us during our boards... and he even hit you.)

"Sirf maths ke liye parhaya tha unhone hume kyuki Dawar bhai unn dino ghar pe nahi the... aur unhone mara nahi tha bas halke se..." Hyra didn't take long to defend Hayder, but after completing her sentence, she realized she was siding with the wrong person. Sami and Uswa were looking at her as if she had grown horns on her head.

(He only taught us math because Dawar bhai wasn't home at that time... and he didn't hit, it was just a light tap...)

"Hyra, Hyra, Hyra! Abhi maine kya kaha? Shadi bhale se tumhari Hayder bhai se hui ho, tumhari wafadari humse honi chahiye. Yaad karo, Katrina Kaif ne bhi Vicky Kaushal se shadi zaroor ki thi lekin uski wafadari hamesha India ke sath thi." Uswa placed her hands on both of Hyra's shoulders and made her realize the importance of loyalty.

(Hyra, Hyra, Hyra! What did I just say? Your marriage might be with Hayder bhai, but your loyalty should be with us. Remember, Katrina Kaif married Vicky Kaushal but her loyalty was always with India.)

"Huh?" But Hyra was confused about how Katrina and Vicky came into the conversation.

"Raazi mein Alia Bhatt thi." Sami reminded her from behind, making Uswa turn to look at him.

(It was Alia Bhatt in Raazi.)

"Alia Bhatt? Toh Vicky Katrina ne konsi movie mein shadi ki?"

(Alia Bhatt? Then which movie did Vicky and Katrina get married in?)

"Unhone real mein shadi ki hai, Uswa." Hyra reminded her.

(They got married in real life, Uswa.)

"Toh fir woh konsi movie thi jisme Katrina Kaif agent bani hai?" Uswa was really confused now.

(Then which movie was it where Katrina Kaif is an agent?)

"Tiger?" Hyra exerted her brain to remember the movie.

"Arey, haan, usme woh gana tha..." Uswa was about to say something when Sami's loud voice interrupted.

(Oh, yes, the one with that song...)

"Bas! Bohot hua! Main yaha apna masla leke aya hoon aur tum dono ko movies ki parhi hai. Meri toh kisi ko fikar hi nahi, chota jo hoon aur mera toh koi pair bhi nahi." Sami's voice filled with emotion as he spoke the last words.

(Enough! I've had enough! I came here with my problem, and you two are discussing movies. No one cares about me, just because I'm the youngest and have no allies.)

"Mere sath bohot ziyadti hui hai iss ghar mein. Ek toh pehli baat yaha sab hum umr ho, sabke ek ek dost hain. Dawar bhai Hayder bhai. Shahzaib bhai Rafey bhai. Kubra api Zara api. Hyra aur tum. Mera toh koi nahi, ab cricket bhi cheen liya ja raha hai mujhse." Tears filled Uswa's eyes as she listened to her brother, and she placed her hand on his cheeks.

(I've been treated very unfairly in this house. First of all, everyone here is of the same age and has a friend. Dawar bhai and Hayder bhai. Shahzaib bhai and Rafey bhai. Kubra api and Zara api. Hyra and you. I have no one, and now cricket is being taken away from me too.)

"Haye, mera masoom bhai, main Australia kya chali gayi, bechare ke sath itna zulm ho raha hai." Uswa hugged Sami tightly.

(Oh, my poor brother, since I went to Australia, you've been suffering so much.)

"Lekin tum fikar mat karo, Tumhara bat tumhe wapas milega. Hyra leke ayegi." Sniffing, Uswa told him. Wiping his invisible tears.

(But don't worry, you'll get your bat back. Hyra will bring it back.)

"What?" Hyra, who was watching the drama between the siblings, was suddenly shocked. "Main kaise?"

(How?)

"Hyra, please," Sami came to Hyra, leaving Uswa's embrace, and made a helpless puppy face. "Dekho insan 24 ghante toh nahi parh sakta na? Kuch toh chahiye mind fresh karne ke liye."

(Look, a person can't study for 24 hours, right? Something is needed to freshen the mind.)

"Haan, chahiye toh..." Hyra also felt sorry for Sami.

(Yes, it's needed but...)

"Bas decide ho gaya. Hyra tumhara bat wapas leke ayegi." Uswa solved the whole matter herself.

(Okay, it's decided. Hyra will get your bat back.)

"Kab?" Sami's eyes lit up with excitement.

(When?)

"Ab Hayder bhai ko office se toh ajane do. Keh diya na mil jayega bat wapas tumhe. Ab jao niche jake parhai karo. Bat ke liye fouran uppar agaye larhne, kabhi parhai ke liye bhi aise utawle raha karo toh hume bhi khushi mile. Boards mein tumhare numbers 99% se kam nahi hone chahiye." Uswa's sisterly instincts kicked in, so she scolded Sami instead.

(Let Hayder bhai come back from the office. I said you'll get your bat back. Now go downstairs and study. You rush upstairs to fight for your bat, why not be just as eager about studying so we can be happy too? You shouldn't get less than 99% in your boards.)

"99%? 100% le aunga." Sami said with a mocked laugh and quickly ran away because Uswa was about to hit him with her slipper.

(99%? I'll get 100%.)

Hyra, watching Sami disappear down the stairs, turned to Uswa with a worried expression.

"Main Hayder se bat ke liye kaise kahu? Tumhe maloom hai woh parhai ke mamle mein strict hain."

(How can I ask Hayder for the bat? You know he's strict about studies.)

"Kis mamle mein woh strict nahi hain mujhe yeh batao, mere liye yeh news hogi." Uswa scoffed, rolling her eyes.

(Tell me in which matter he is not strict, that would be news to me.)

"Lekin, main kaise bolu..." Hyra hesitated, biting her lip.

(But how should I ask...)

"Munh se," Uswa smacked her forehead lightly, as if trying to knock some sense into her sister.

(With your mouth,)

"Woh tumhare husband hain, Hyra, tumhe maloom hona chahiye unhe kaise manao kisi cheez ke liye." she said, speaking to Hyra as if she were talking to a child.

(He's your husband, Hyra, you should know how to persuade him for something.)

Then Uswa shook her head and wrapped her arm around Hyra's shoulder as they began to walk away.

"Dekho, husband se kuch bhi manwane ke 3 stages hote hain. Pehla toh hai pyar se, itna pyar jatao fir kuch mango mana hi nahi kar payenge. Aur agar tab bhi na mane toh gussa ho jao, aur gussa bhi kaam na kare toh sabse best, silent treatment. Yeh hamesha kaam karta hai. 2 din Rafey se baat nahi ki maine, dekho mujhe teesre din le aye na yaha." Hyra listened to Uswa's advice, feeling a bit more confident about approaching Hayder for the bat.

(Look, there are three stages to getting anything from a husband. First, with love, show so much love then ask for something, they can't refuse. If that doesn't work, then get angry, and if anger doesn't work, the best one is the silent treatment. It always works. I didn't talk to Rafey for 2 days, see, he brought me here on the third day.)

•••

When Hayder returned home, he noticed Hyra standing beside the mirror, murmuring to herself as if rehearsing lines. He paused, his curiosity piqued.

"Hyra, kuch kehna hai tumhe?" he asked.

(Hyra, is there something you want to say?)

Hyra took a deep breath, deciding it was now or never. She had to ask for Sami's bat. Steeling herself, she approached Hayder, her heart pounding. With a sweet and lovely smile, she went to sit beside him on the bed. She picked up his arm, wrapped it around her, and laid her head on his chest. Hayder's lips curled into a soft smile as he let her do whatever she wanted, enjoying the rare moment of intimacy and comfort.

"Hayder, agar main apse kuch mangugi toh aap denge?" she said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper.

(Hayder, if I ask you for something, will you give it to me?)

"Haan, jaan, bolo," Hayder replied with love in his eyes.

(Yes, love, tell me.)

Hyra smiled, her nerves calming slightly. "Woh... mujhe Sami ka bat chahiye tha."

(Well... I wanted Sami's bat.)

"Tumhe Sami ka bat kyu chahiye?" Hayder's smile faltered as confusion clouded his features.

(Why do you need Sami's bat?)

"Kya haina..," Hyra began to explain, but before she could continue, Hayder's expression turned stern.

(You see...)

"Hyra, tum iss condition mein cricket khelne ka toh nahi soch rahi?" he said, a note of scolding in his voice. "Tumhe apne aur baby ka khayal rakhna chahiye, maine kaha tha na main laparwahi bardasht nahi karunga."

(Hyra, you are not thinking of playing cricket in this condition, are you? You need to take care of yourself and the baby. I told you I wouldn't tolerate carelessness.)

Hyra sighed, realizing he had misunderstood. She lifted her head to look at him, "Main apne liye nahi mang rahi. Waise bhi jab apne farmhouse mein mera bat torha tha uske baad maine kasam khayi thi cricket na khelne ki. Khair, main Sami ke liye keh rahi thi."

(I'm not asking for myself. Besides, when you broke my bat at the farmhouse, I swore never to play cricket again. Anyway, I'm asking for Sami.)

"Sami ke liye? Nahi." Hayder's expression turned even sterner. He said firmly.

(For Sami? No.)

"Lekin, Hayder..." Hyra tried to oppose, but Hayder interrupted her.

"Kaha na nahi. Ussey kaho sifarish lagwana band kare, aur yeh bhi kehna ki kalse main ussey parhaunga. Dawar bechara abhi nayi responsibility ko sambhalne mein busy hoga. Sami ko main hi parha dunga."

(I said no. Tell him to stop seeking favors, and also tell him that I will tutor him from tomorrow. Dawar is probably busy handling his new responsibilities. I will tutor Sami myself.)

Hyra nodded, but she couldn't shake the thought of what Uswa would say. "Humne tumse bat lane ke liye kaha tha, Hyra, tum toh iss masoom ki bali charha ayi."

(We asked you to get the bat, Hyra, and you ended up sacrificing this innocent soul.)

She shuddered at the idea and then tried again. "Please, maan jaye. Bechara kitna parhega? Mood fresh karne ke liye thora khelna bura toh nahi?"

(Please, agree. The poor boy studies so much. Is a little playtime to freshen up his mood such a bad thing?)

Hayder glared at her, making her fall silent for a moment. Then, with a softer touch, he brushed her hair gently. "Mood fresh karne ke aur bhi tareeqe hain. Lekin cricket ki wajah se parhai pe woh bilkul dhyan nahi deta. Dekho, khelna bura nahi hai, lekin khel ki wajah se parhai ko neglect karna bhi sahi nahi."

(There are other ways to freshen up one's mood. But because of cricket, he doesn't focus on his studies. Look, playing is not bad, but neglecting studies because of it is not right.)

When her loving approach didn't work, Hyra decided to use another tactic she had learned from Uswa: getting angry. She removed Hayder's arm from around her, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at him.

"Maine kaha na Sami ka bat wapas karein. Aap kyu sunte? Yeh koi baat hoti hai bhala? Sab pe apni marzi chalate hain aap. Aisa nahi ki dusro ki bhi sunn lein."

(I told you to give back Sami's bat. Why don't you listen? Is this any way to behave? You always impose your will on everyone. Can't you listen to others for a change?)

"Bechara bachha mind fresh karne ke liye thora sa cricket khel le raha hai toh kya chala jayega? Ab har koi apki tarah parhta hi nahi rahega na. Apko kyu lagta hai sab apki tarah hain? Aise hi bachpan mein mujhe bhi daat daat ke parhate the... mara bhi tha." she scolded, her voice rising in frustration.

(Is it such a big deal if the poor boy plays a little cricket to freshen up his mind? Not everyone can keep studying like you. Why do you think everyone is like you? Even in my childhood, you used to scold and teach me... even hit me.)

"Maine kab mara tumhe?" Hayder looked bewildered.

(When did I hit you?)

"Jab mere aur Uswa ke boards ke time aap hume parha rahe the, tab mara-" Hyra's eyes narrowed as she remembered.

(When you were teaching Uswa and me during our board exams, you hit me-)

Before she could finish her sentence, Hayder lightly tapped her on the head, like he did that day. "Main firse marunga agar tumne betuki zidd ki." he said with a soft chuckle.

(I'll hit you again if you make silly demands.)

Hyra huffed, her anger melting into a pout. "Yeh galat baat hai, apki sab sune lekin aap kisi ki nahi sunte." she muttered.

(This is wrong, everyone should listen to you but you don't listen to anyone.)

Hayder pulled her close again. "Galat hai toh galat hi sahi."

(If it's wrong, then let it be wrong.)

"De dijiye na Sami ka bat." Hyra, still determined, tried once more.

(Please give Sami's bat back.)

"Nahi," Hayder shook his head.

(No.)

"Theek hai fir main apse baat nahi karungi." Frustrated, Hyra threatened. This was her last resort.

(Fine, then I won't talk to you.)

"Koi baat nahi, main tumse baat kar lunga." Hayder remained calm.

(No problem, I'll talk to you.)

"Main sunugi bhi nahi."

(I won't listen.)

"Main text kar dunga." Hayder replied, amused.

(I'll text you.)

"Main parhungi bhi nahi." Hyra's anger bubbled up.

(I won't read it.)

Hayder laughed, enjoying her cute, angry mode. "Fir hum dono khamoshi mein baithenge sath."

(Then we'll both sit in silence together.)

Throwing his arm away, Hyra stood up from the bed, crossing her arms defiantly. "Apka matlab hai aap meri khamoshi bardasht kar sakte hain lekin Sami ka bat nahi denge?"

(So, you mean to say you can tolerate my silence but won't give Sami's bat back?)

"Nahi," Hayder shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

(No,)

Hyra glared at him, huffing in frustration, she stomped her foot lightly, exasperated by his playful demeanor, and decided to leave but before Hyra could leave the room, Hayder gently grabbed her hand to stop her. "Ek shart pe de sakta hoon bat wapas," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Badle mein mujhe kya milega?"

(I can give the bat back on one condition,)

(What will I get in return?)

Hyra paused, thinking of all the things Sami could possibly offer in exchange for his bat, but nothing came to mind.

"Sami bechara abhi parh raha hai, woh kya hi de payega apko?" she said, a bit perplexed.

(The poor boy is studying right now. What can he possibly give you?)

"Sami nahi de sakta kuch. Lekin Sami ki behen jo uski itni tarafdari kar rahi hai, mujhse larh rahi hai, woh toh de sakti hai."

(Sami can't give me anything. But his sister, who is defending him so much and fighting with me, can.)

Hyra looked at him, confused. "Main? Main kya..."

(Me? What can I...)

"Mujhe hi samjhana parhega." Hayder smacked his forehead and then pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Hyra quickly understood his meaning and blushed.

(I have to explain everything.)

"Aap yeh... Chorhein mujhe," she muttered, her cheeks turning pink.

(You... let me go.)

Hayder chuckled, holding her close. "Bat chahiye ya nahi?"

(Do you want the bat or not?)

Hyra sighed, her frustration mounting as she struggled to free herself from Hayder's hold.

"Apko sharam ani chahiye."

(You should be ashamed.)

"Kis baat pe?" Hayder asked, his tone playful as he tightened his grip slightly, preventing her escape.

(For what?)

"Yeh jo aap kar rahe... aap fyada utha rahe hain mera," she said, her voice rising as she tried to push him away again. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

(What you're doing... you're taking advantage of me.)

Hayder burst out laughing, his amusement echoing through the room. "Fyada? Theek hai fir tum bhi mera fyada utha lo. We'll be equal."

(Taking advantage? Fine, then you can take advantage of me too. We'll be equal.)

Hyra huffed, still trying to wriggle free from his grasp. "Main toh sirf bat mang rahi thi."

(I was just asking for the bat.)

Without warning, Hayder silenced her with a kiss, his lips capturing hers in a tender but insistent embrace. She froze for a moment, caught off guard, but slowly melted into the kiss. When he finally pulled away, his voice was a whisper, soft and teasing against her lips. "Subah Sami ko bat mil jayega. Lekin abhi, tum mera socho, mujhe khush karne ka socho kahi main mood na badal loon."

(Sami will get the bat in the morning. But for now, think about me, think about making me happy, or else I might change my mind.)

Hyra's breath hitched, her heart pounding as she looked into his eyes. "Aap... aap bohot bure hain, Hayder," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

(You... you are very bad, Hayder.)

"Shayad," he replied with a chuckle, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her face. "Lekin tumse bohot pyaar karta hoon."

(Maybe, But I love you very much.)

•••

Sami was so thrilled to get his bat that when Hyra told him that Hayder would teach him in the evenings from now on, he didn't pay attention and rushed outside to play.

"Dekha, maine kaha tha bat mil jayega," Uswa said happily. "Waise tumne kaise manaya Hayder bhai ko?" Then she placed her hand on Hyra's shoulder and asked. This question made Hyra turn red with embarrassment. What could she say now?

(See, I told you he'd get the bat,)

(By the way, how did you persuade Hayder bhai?)

"Tumhari advice mani..." Hyra pushed Uswa's hand away and turned her face to the other side, saying softly.

(I took your advice...)

"Main koi advice doon aur woh galat ho jaye aisa ho hi nahi sakta," Uswa raised her imaginary collar with pride.

(If I give advice, it can't go wrong.)

Hyra was heading upstairs again, and Uswa followed closely behind, saying, "Achha chalo na, aaj hum free hain toh kahi bahar chalte hain. Waise bhi main kal chali jaungi."

(Come on, let's go out somewhere today since we're free. Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow.)

"Tumhe 4 din hi rukna tha toh ayi hi kyu? Hum toh theek se baat hi nahi kar paye, Mohsin ke aqeeqah mein busy the." Hyra felt bad upon hearing that Uswa was leaving, and she complained.

(If you were only staying for four days, then why did you bother to come? We couldn't even talk properly, we were busy with Mohsin's aqeeqah.)

"Mann toh mera bhi kar raha hai aur din ke liye ruk jau. Lekin kya karu, Rafey issi shart pe toh leke aye the ki kaam ki wajah se zyada din woh yaha nahi ruk payenge aur main zidd nahi karungi ki woh chale jaye, mujhe rukne dein." Uswa explained to Hyra as they climbed the stairs together.

(I also want to stay for more days. But what can I do, Rafey brought me here on the condition that he wouldn't be able to stay here for long because of work, and I promised not to insist that he leave and let me stay.)

Hyra could understand Uswa's helplessness, but still, it would feel bad to be separated from her dear friend once again.

"Achha chorho na, chalte hain kahi?" Uswa tried to change the subject. If she's leaving tomorrow, why spoil the mood from today?

(Alright, forget it, let's go somewhere?)

"Nahi, meri tabiyat ka toh tumhe pata hai, aur Hayder bhi mujhe akele nahi jane denge. Hum ghar pe koi movie dekh lete hain." Hyra's idea appealed to Uswa, so she hurried to the TV room. Hyra was following behind her with slow steps.

(No, you know about my health, and Hayder won't let me go alone either. Let's watch a movie at home.)

"Konsi dekhogi." Uswa had opened the horror movies genre, which made Hyra's blood run cold.

(Which one will you watch?)

"Hyra, jab tak bologi nahi samne wala kaise samjhega tum uncomfortable ho?" Hayder's words came to Hyra's mind, so she mustered the courage to suggest something else to Uswa.

(Hyra, unless you say something, how will the other person know you're uncomfortable?)

"Uswa, koi aur movie dekh lein kya?" Hyra, sitting on the sofa, asked.

(Uswa, can we watch another movie?)

"Kyu?" Uswa, whose eyes were fixed on the TV screen, looked at Hyra.

(Why?)

"Mujhe darr lagta hai."

(I get scared.)

"Darr kyu lagta hai pagal? Hayder bhai se keh dena na bhoot bhagane ke liye." Uswa teased Hyra as she sat next to her.

(Why are you scared, silly? Tell Hayder bhai to chase the ghosts away.)

"Hayder kya tumhe jadoo tone wala baba dikhte hain?" Hyra glared at her on her stupid suggestion.

(Does Hayder look like a baba who do magic?)

"Nahi baba toh nahi, lekin jinn se kam thori... comedy movie lagau?" Uswa couldn't complete her sentence because Hyra's glare became intense, so she turned back to the TV, thinking it wise to change the subject.

(No, not a baba, but not less than a jinn... should I put on a comedy movie?)

•••

Hayder sat behind his large mahogany desk, the room filled with the subtle hum of the air conditioner and the faint scent of leather and paper. The office was a sanctuary of order and calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside Shahzaib as he stood before his elder brother.

"Bhai, main soch raha tha... kuch dino ke liye Australia chala jau Rafey ke sath?" Shahzaib asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

(Bhai, I was thinking... I should go to Australia for a few days with Rafey?)

"Achanak yeh plan kaise bana liya?" Hayder's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up from the document he was reviewing and asked, his tone measured and probing.

(How did you make this plan so suddenly?)

"Bas aise hi. Thora environment change ho jayega..." Shahzaib shrugged, attempting a casual air, but his eyes betrayed him.

(Just like that. A change of environment...)

Hayder leaned back in his chair, studying his brother. "Kitne din ka plan bana rahe ho?"

(How many days are you planning for?)

"Yeh toh decide nahi kiya, maybe..." Shahzaib hesitated, avoiding Hayder's penetrating gaze.

(I haven't decided yet, maybe...)

"Zara ki shaadi tak?" Hayder asked pointedly, his voice gentle but firm.

(Until Zara's wedding?)

Shahzaib's facade crumbled. His shoulders slumped, and his strong demeanor weakened. He could pretend to be okay in front of Kubra, but with Hayder, he didn't have to pretend to be strong. Hayder knew him inside out.

"Bhai, main yaha nahi rehna chahta." Shahzaib admitted, his voice breaking. "Main yahan se durr jana chahta hoon. Shayad tabhi move on kar pau warna yaha har cheez uski yaad dilati hai."

(Bhai, I don't want to stay here. I want to go far away. Maybe then I'll be able to move on, otherwise, everything here reminds me of her.)

Hayder's expression softened. He stood up, walked around the desk, and enveloped Shahzaib in a tight embrace. Shahzaib clung to his brother, feeling like a kid again, allowed to be vulnerable.

"Main samajh sakta hoon, Shahzaib," Hayder whispered. "Aur agar tumhe durr jana hi theek lag raha hai, toh jao. Lekin yaad rakhna, hum sab yahan hain tumhare sath."

(I can understand, Shahzaib,)

(And if you feel it's right to go far away, then go. But remember, we are all here for you.)

Shahzaib nodded against Hayder's shoulder, taking comfort in his brother's strength and understanding. "Thank you, bhai," he murmured.

"Ek aur baat, tumhe jo theek lag raha hai karo. But never lose yourself." Hayder said, pulling back to look Shahzaib in the eyes, his hands resting on his younger brother's shoulders.

(One more thing, do what you feel is right. But never lose yourself.)

Shahzaib managed a weak smile, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst his pain. "Main koshish karunga."

(I'll try.)

Hayder nodded, giving Shahzaib a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Tum akele nahi ho, Shahzaib."

(You are not alone, Shahzaib.)

•••

Hayder entered the house, the weight of his family's turmoil visible on his shoulders. The usually bustling home felt unusually quiet as he removed his shoes and set his bag down. The thought of Shahzaib leaving gnawed at him, bringing with it a profound sense of uncertainty. Would things ever be the same again?

Hyra noticed him and immediately sensed his tension. She hurried to the kitchen, filling a glass with water, and approached him cautiously.

"Hayder," she said softly, handing him the glass, "Aap theek hain?"

(Hayder, are you okay?)

Hayder took the glass but didn't drink from it. Instead, he shook his head slightly. "Haan, kya hua?" He said, his voice low and strained.

(Yes, what happened?)

He wasn't accustomed to sharing his burdens with anyone, even with Hyra, who stood before him with concern etched on her face.

He handed the glass back to her and headed towards the washroom, leaving Hyra standing there, holding the untouched water. The door clicked shut behind him.

Hyra looked at the closed door with a pout. He was disturbed, but his demeanor suggested he needed space, and she respected that, even if it left her feeling helpless and worried.

With a sigh, she placed the glass on the table and sat down, wondering what could be troubling him so deeply and hoping he would eventually open up to her.

Later, Hyra learned from Hanif Mirza that Shahzaib wanted to go to Australia, and this was the reason why Hayder was so disturbed. Hayder never let Shahzaib travel alone to Minal's village before, and now he was terrified at the thought of sending him so far away. Hearing this, Hyra felt bad for Hayder.

•••

Hyra stepped out into the lawn, where Hayder stood, lost in thought, gazing out into the distance. She approached him slowly, her heart heavy with concern for him.

"Hayder," she called softly, coming to stand beside him.

Hayder turned to look at her, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within him. "Hyra," he greeted, his voice tinged with weariness.

Hyra reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm, offering him a reassuring smile. "Main janti hoon aap Shahzaib bhai ke liye pareshaan hain," she started saying, gently, "lekin apko unpe trust karna hoga. Aap hamesha unhe apne sath nahi rakh sakte, kabhi toh unhe bahar bhejna hoga, taki apna achha bura woh khud samajh sake."

(I know you're worried about Shahzaib bhai,)

(But you have to trust him. You can't always keep him with you, sometimes you have to let him go out so he can understand right and wrong on his own.)

"Janta hoon, Lekin usko itni durr bhejna... mushkil hai. Kubra aur Shahzaib mere liye bachho jaise hain." Hayder nodded, his expression conflicted. Hayder was expressing his emotions openly to someone for the first time. His usual composed and stoic demeanor had given way to a rare vulnerability.

(I know, but sending him so far away... it's difficult. Kubra and Shahzaib are like children to me.)

"Bachhe bade toh honge na." Hyra replied sympathetically, her eyes filled with compassion. "Apke liye mushkil hai lekin issey kai zyada Shahzaib bhai ke liye mushkil hai yaha rehna, isliye woh jana chahte hain."

(Children will grow up, right?)

(It's difficult for you but it's even more difficult for Shahzaib bhai to stay here, that's why he wants to go.)

Hayder listened to her words, finding solace in her wisdom and strength. He realized that he couldn't control every aspect of Shahzaib's life, nor should he try to. Sometimes, letting go was the hardest but most necessary thing to do.

"Tum sahi keh rahi ho," he said finally, a sense of resolve settling over him. "Shahzaib ke liye sarey decision main nahi le sakta. Ab ussey apne decision khud lene honge jisme mujhe usko support karna chahiye."

(You are right,) 

(I can't make all the decisions for Shahzaib. Now he has to make his own decisions and I should support him in that.)

Hyra smiled, squeezing his arm affectionately. "Sab theek ho jayega," she said softly, her voice filled with unwavering support.

(Everything will be alright.)

With Hyra's words echoing in his mind, Hayder felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He hoped too everything will be alright in Shahzaib's life again.

•••

After Uswa, Rafey, and Shahzaib left, everything returned to its usual routine after a few days. Rabia spent her days tending to her grandson, and Laraib gradually tried to adjust to everyone around her. While upstairs, everyone took great care of Hyra. Arzoo, especially, stayed with Hyra all the time, making up for the wrongs she had done in the past. Receiving her mother's love, Hyra slowly began to feel a connection with the baby, aided by Hayder's support.

Hanif Mirza waited impatiently for his great-grandson's arrival. Kubra also visited every other day to check on Hyra's well-being. After the misunderstanding was resolved in Kubra and Sarim's relationship, Kubra's face was always bright with happiness.

Hayder had been taking extra care of her too. Though he always treated her with love and affection, now he seemed to be looking after her as if she were a delicate porcelain doll. Every little need or discomfort she had, he was there to attend to it immediately.

Time moved at its own pace, and Hayder prayed that it would also heal Shahzaib's wounds.

Shahzaib had easily landed a job at a big company in Australia, despite Ibtisham's insistence on him joining his office. Shahzaib, however, declined the offer.

When Hayder heard about Shahzaib's job, he became certain that Shahzaib might never return to India. It pained Hayder to see his brother, whom he loved like a son, lose his laughter and joy. If not for the respect he had for Minal and Burhan, Hayder would have long brought Zara to Shahzaib's life. But what could he do? On one side was the brother he cherished more than his life, and on the other was his aunt, who had done her best to fill the void left by their mother's passing.

Hyra lay in her room, nestled in the comfort of her bed, a soft breeze filtering through the open window. Her seventh month of pregnancy had brought with it a new level of fatigue, and she found herself resting more often. She had gained some weight, her cheeks now as fluffy as cotton, and her face glowing with the beauty of impending motherhood.

She was almost drifting off when a gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present. Hanif Mirza stepped into the room.

"Baba," Hyra greeted him with a smile, struggling to sit up. "Apko kaam tha toh mujhe bula lete."

(Baba, if you had work, you could have called me.)

Hanif Mirza waved off her concern with a chuckle. "Nahi, koi kaam nahi tha, main bas tumse milne aya tha."

(No, there was no work, I just came to see you.)

He walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, a twinkle in his eye. "Yeh dekho, aaj mujhe kya mila."

(Look, what I found today.)

He reached into his bag and carefully pulled out a small, intricately crocheted baby blanket. The blanket was adorned with adorable patterns of clouds, soft and delicate to the touch. Hyra's eyes lit up with delight as she took the blanket in her hands.

"Yeh toh bohot cute hai," she said, tracing the patterns with her fingers.

(This is so cute.)

Hanif Mirza smiled, his gaze affectionate. "Yeh Hayder ki dadi ne banaya tha Hayder ke liye," he explained, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Jab Hayder chota tha, iske begair sota nahi tha. Ek baar Farhana apne mayke gayi thi aur yeh blanket yahi bhool gayi thi, Hayder itna roya tha fir Ahmed leke gaya tha adhi raat ko yeh blanket."

(This was made by Hayder's grandmother for Hayder. When Hayder was little, he couldn't sleep without it. Once, Farhana went to her parents' house and forgot this blanket here. Hayder cried so much that Ahmed had to bring it there in the middle of the night.)

Hyra laughed at his tale, her heart warming at the thought. "Apne ab tak sambhal ke rakha hai issey?"

(You have kept it safe until now?)

Hanif Mirza chuckled softly. "Hayder ke bachpan ki bas yahi ek cheez sambhal paya main. Baki sab uske bachpan ki tarah hi kho gaye kahi."

(This was the only thing from Hayder's childhood that I could keep safe. Everything else, like his childhood, got lost somewhere.)

"Kabhi kabhi main bhool jaata hoon ki Hayder bhi itna chota tha. Aisa lagta hai jaise woh hamesha se hi itna bada aur zimmedar tha." Hanif Mirza said with a slight smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his expression.

(Sometimes, I forget that Hayder was so little too. It feels like he was always so big and responsible.)

"Aur waqt se pehle zimmedari sambhalne laga toh mijaz mein sakhti khud ba khud agayi uske. Pata hai main jab bhi tumhe aur Hayder ko dekhta hoon toh bohot khushi milti hai ki ab Hayder ka khayal rakhne ke liye koi hai, koi hai jo Hayder ki zindagi mein khushi le ayi."

(And when he started taking responsibility before his time, sternness naturally came into his personality. You know, whenever I see you and Hayder, I feel very happy that now there is someone to take care of Hayder, someone who brought happiness into Hayder's life.)

"Mujhe kabhi Shahzaib aur Kubra ki fikar nahi thi kyuki main janta tha unhe Hayder sambhal lega, lekin yeh darr zaroor rehta tha mere baad Hayder ka khayal kon rakhega. Ab woh darr bhi khatam, ab sukoon se marr sakta hoon."

(I never worried about Shahzaib and Kubra because I knew Hayder would take care of them, but I always had this fear of who would take care of Hayder after me. Now that fear is also gone, now I can die in peace.)

"Baba, aap kaisi baat kar rahe hain. Allah na kare apko kuch ho." Hyra's heart seemed to stop at his words. She immediately interrupted Hanif Mirza and prayed for his long life.

(Baba, what are you saying? God forbid anything happen to you.)

Hanif Mirza gave her a reassuring smile and patted her head gently. "Bachhe, maine toh bas ek baat kahi hai. Baki insan toh utna hi jiyega jitna uske naseeb mein likha hai. Bas mere baad tum Hayder aur iss ghar ko sambhalna." He smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love.

(Child, I've only said one thing. Everyone will live only as much as is written in their destiny. I just want to say, after me, you have to take care of this house and Hayder.)

Before Hyra could respond to Hanif Mirza's heartfelt words, her phone rang, breaking the tender moment. She glanced at the screen and saw Dawar's name flashing.

"Assalam-Alaikum, Bhai," she answered, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

"Hyra, Baba kaha hain?" Dawar asked urgently.

(Hyra, where is baba?)

"Woh toh mere sath hain." Hyra looked at Hanif Mirza, puzzled.

(He's with me.)

"Unko phone dena, jaldi," Dawar's tone was serious, causing a knot of anxiety to form in Hyra's stomach.

(Give the phone to him.)

She handed the phone to Hanif Mirza, her eyes filled with concern. "Baba, Dawar Bhai ka phone hai," she said softly.

(Baba, it's Dawar bhai.)

Hanif Mirza took the phone, his gentle smile fading into a look of worry as he listened to Dawar on the other end. Hyra watched, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Haan lekin... hospital? Dawar, sab khairiyat toh haina?... mujhe address batao, main ata hoon," Hanif Mirza's voice was tense, the single word "hospital" sending a wave of fear through Hyra. She clutched the blanket tightly, her mind racing with thoughts of the worst possible scenarios.

(Yes, but....Hospital? Dawar, is everything okay?... Give me the address, I'll come.)

•••

This chapter alone is equal to three chapters 😅 Now, I need votes and comments on it equal to three chapters too 😁 Please karde na vote aur comments, nahi toh main... main naraz ho jaungi🥺

Do tell me if there's any mistake. 🫶🏻

-Ufaq