Saad looked at the man he’d spent his entire life with less as a friend and more as a brother. He didn’t know what to say. He did know that Yusuf was the one man who always went by the book, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for justice.

But that was the very thing that had cost them all so much. Yusuf was a fool who hadn’t recognized fabricated evidence. He’d chosen to trust some petty lie than his own brother and the woman that he loved. Sure, Saad hated Yusuf for what he did to Kubra, what she had to endure. But the resentment he held in his heart for him was for selfish reasons.

Yusuf had made it clear to Saad that his judgment, his opinion, his word meant nothing to him. No matter how much Saad had valued Yusuf’s opinion on any case, his meant shit to him. He’d stripped Saad of the only friend he had, the only person he could turn to.

And he hadn’t known if he could forgive him for that. But sitting here in front of him, seeing Yusuf so miserable, he had an urge to hug him and say ‘all’s forgiven’.

But he wasn’t that selfless.

“I don’t know, Yusuf. And I’m not here to discuss your values. I believed it couldn’t happen. But I also believed that you were not a fool. You were smarter than me. Always had been. Where I scored the highest marks by studying my ass off, you danced there effortlessly. So maybe it’s easier for me to assume that you were sold. By fear or something else, I don’t know.”

Yusuf closed his eyes and turned his head to a side, trying to fight the urge that was scratching at him to throw himself over a bridge. He looked at Saad with an expression that was only on his face when conducting business.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, let’s see. I’ll go easy on you. Why were we all thrown into the crossfire of Wali’s murder? He was our friend, yes. But why was Kubra framed?”

“I’d forgotten that the most difficult task for everyone was the easiest for you.” Yusuf stood up. “We can’t talk here. Let’s go to my office.” Saad would’ve questioned why, but the pointed look Yusuf gave him was clear. There was a high chance that this place was tapped.

And sure enough, the second Yusuf closed the door to his office, he said, “The bastards have tapped this entire building. Now, I’ve had my office checked . . . quite thoroughly actually, but I can’t have the entire building searched without alarming whoever is after me in the first place.” He sat on his chair behind the desk and loosened his tie, smiling as if being a vocal prisoner in his office was no big deal.

“And who exactly . . . is that?” Saad frowned and gripped the back of the chair opposite Yusuf.

“I . . . don’t know. Could be Bajwa, could be some other psycho who’s seeking revenge on me. I don’t know. I haven’t exactly pleased a lot of people.”

“How about you start talking everything related Wali’s and Kubra’s case?” Saad pulled the chair back and sat down, entwining his fingers on the table and waiting for Yusuf to just get it over with.

Yusuf exhaled and leaned back. “The reason Kubra was dragged into this whole mess because of me. And I’m not talking about the fact that I fought against her. She was targeted because some people wanted to threaten me, because they knew that that would hurt me the most.

“Five years back, a month before Wali was murdered, he’d sent me a few files. Only he didn’t send it to me here. He mailed them to my cousin’s house in England, who wasn’t even there at the time. His housekeeper kept it aside, just like every other mail, but it got lost somewhere. Jamal Bajwa knew his son had sent those files to me, but he couldn’t find them. He thought I had them, so he decided to blackmail me. He killed his son and made it seem as if Kubra had done it. Only when he saw that I wasn’t defending her, he must have realized that either I didn’t care for her or that I hadn’t received the mysterious files. So he just let things flow as they were.”

“So Kubra was just collateral damage?” Saad didn’t know if he wanted Kubra to know that. Her life was ruined for nothing.

Yusuf exhaled regrettably. “Pretty much. But now, she’s going to be targeted again.”

“And why is that?”

“Because . . .” Yusuf stood up and walked to the bookshelf to his left, pulled out a thick book and grabbed something from behind it. “My cousin found this addressed to me while emptying his house.” He gave the USB to Saad and sat down again. “It’s just a copy. One of the few I’ve made. The original is safe. It contains enough evidence to warrant Jamal Bajwa and all his associates’ a trip by the grim reaper.”

Saad twisted the small piece of metal in his fingers. “Are you sure it’s gonna be enough? The evidence the hit-man gave us was plenty too, but the judge was in his pocket. He only got jail-time.”

“The evidence he gave you was equivalent to salt in grain compared to this. No matter how much a judge is paid, he can’t save Jamal Bajwa. Not if I prepare the case right. So you need to make sure yours and Kubra’s family is well protected. My mom and dad are already in the States for mom’s cancer treatment.”

“Fine, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. But I don’t suppose you were telling my father all this yesterday for a long time.”

“No, I was discussing with him the terms on which he would take over my company after my final case.”

“What?” This was not what Saad was expecting. But the nonchalant way Yusuf had said it told him it wasn’t a joke. “You’re selling your company?”

“Yes. This is gonna be my last case. And I’m going to make it count.”

“No. We’re going to make it count.”

*~*~*

“You’re not even trying, Kubra.”

She huffed and dropped the color pencil, giving up trying to hold her dominant hand still. She had been going on about this exercise for two hours now, and it was fruitless. It was worse than even her usual days, when the tremors weren’t constant.

“I am trying! This stupid exercise isn’t helping anything!”

Maybe it was because she was actively thinking about the tremble that passed her hand that it was refusing to let her do anything, let alone do enough to make this physiotherapist leave her for the day.

With each passing second, she hated herself more, because not only was it her own fault, but it was her own hand that did such a nerve damage to the other hand.

Why did I have to be so weak? Why couldn’t have I fucking stopped?

“You know, I can only help you so much until you let go of whatever you’re holding on to,” Dr. Asad Rehman, a charming man in his mid-forties with a bit silver in his hair and laugh lines around his eyes and lips, said with so much kindness and understanding in his eyes, but she didn’t feel any of the warmth he was emanating.

“I already have one psychiatrist. I don’t need another, thank you very much!” She snapped at him. But then she felt guilty for it.

She’d been feeling guilty a lot lately, for always losing her shit. And then she felt bad. Because she was losing. Losing this battle against her own head! She almost wished to have those two subconscious selves back, if only so she could blame her actions on them.

But she couldn’t do that anymore. And she couldn’t keep on relying on people’s sense of pity to keep giving her a pass for her harsh tongue.

“I’m . . .  really sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Asad Rehman smiled kindly, accepting her apology. “Don’t worry about offending me. I know people don’t really mean things they say when they’re hurting. And it’d take a lot more than that to offend me.”

Why did the people Saad or my father choose had to be this nice?

He sat on the floor, on the other side of the small table where she was doing the worst job at trying to meticulously color in a children’s book.

“Let me tell you something. I once had a patient who had been shot in his spine. There was little hope that he would walk again. But his wife, who was his neurosurgeon, urged me to take him, for she was convinced that she hadn’t done anything wrong. There is no threat that man didn’t give me. And god was he creative with those! I don’t know what and where he found motivation from, what things had been holding him back that he’d let go. But he recovered faster than any patient I’ve ever had.

“I cannot say that I relate with you, because I don’t. But as a man who deals with such people every day, I can say that I understand. And I can tell you that conquering this tremor is going to be piece of cake for you.”

He took the color and book from her and stood up, “I think it’s enough for today. You should go home and relax.”

“Looks like I’m here just in time.” Her best friend’s voice reached her ears and she whipped around. It had been a month that she had seen Huma and two since she had seen Saad. No, that’s not true. He came every other night, made sure she was okay, calmed her worries and asked her to stay safe.

She still had no idea what the hell this was all about.

“No, I’d say you’re about a month late, dear.” Surely she wasn’t being sarcastic.

Huma exhaled loudly as if she was letting go of a lot of frustration. To be honest, she did look tired and exhausted, and not at all like the model of a friend she was used to seeing. She wasn’t in one of her dress suits which made her look classy. Instead she was in an oversized teal shit that hung loose on one shoulder and white tights. Her straight hair was in a bun that was held by . . . a pencil? And she had traded her heels for sneakers.

“Well, we better not waste any more time then. Let’s go, shall we?” Huma gave her a hand and pulled her up. Just then, Huma’s phone rang and the classic iPhone tone filled the air.

They started moving towards the exit as Huma answered the call.

“Yes, she’s with me. . .”

“Is that Saad?” So he could call Huma but not me?

“Yes, that’s your fiancé . . . don’t worry bro. I’ll keep her out of your way. . .”

“What?” They reached Huma’s car. She stopped dead when she saw the man she’d swore to herself she’s never see again leaning against her car. “What is Yusuf doing here?” Kubra asked, but Huma didn’t listen. Yusuf straightened and looked directly into her eyes, his face an impassive mask.

“Semantics, both of you,” Huma continued talking to Saad, either not having any idea what was happening around her, or completely ignoring it. If Kubra were to place a bet, it would be on the latter. “. . . I think the six guards that you’ve hired for her would give her away, not me,” I have guards? “. . . just, please make sure that it’s out and done for good this time, brother. Please. We all deserve to be free.”

“Would you please tell me what’s going on? What the hell is he doing here?”

“I’m just going to pretend as if I didn’t hear you talking about me like I’m not here,” Yusuf said with an annoying calm. Kubra ignored him and yelled, “HUMA MIRZA!”

When finally she had Huma’s attention, she demanded, “Give me that phone!”

She more or less snatched the phone from Huma and stepped away from her. “Saad, what the hell is Yusuf doing here? What is Huma talking about me having guards? What the hell is happening? Would you please just tell me?!”

“It’s okay, love. Everything will be over soon and then I promise, I’ll tell you everything. Please, just go with Yusuf. He’ll take you to a safe house where everyone is already there. I’ll come there soon too.” No matter how soothing Saad sounded, she couldn’t accept one thing. . .

“But Saad, it is Yusuf!” She was on the verge of crying, knowing that these three words held all explanation. All other nightmares she had to endure, they revisited her in her head alone. This one . . . this one came to her all flesh and blood. She didn’t know which was worse, but she knew that she could control avoiding him. But here Saad was, urging her to get in a car with him.

“Kubra, I know I’m the last man you want to see on this planet,” she gasped and turned around to see Yusuf standing close to her. “But I would rather have you safe and furious than somehow harmed. You can complain to Saad all about it later, but in this moment, you’re getting in this car.”

Through the phone, Saad spoke, “Please listen to him, Kubra. I love you.”

She scowled, knowing that she was defenseless against him when he reasoned like this. “Just to make it clear, I don’t want to get in this car.” He chuckled on the other side, “I think you made that clear.” “Good. I love you too.” She pretended to not notice the flash of longing and hurt that crossed Yusuf’s face, and got inside, leaving behind nothing but regret for all the people who loved her.

*~*~*~*

Assalamualaikum Everyone!!!
Yes, yes. A shockerr. I'm alive. I'm updating this story. I'm reallllyyyy sorryyy. I know many of you wanted me to complete it, and some even waited for it!
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