Shahrah-e-Faisal. Traffic. Probably the two words an average Karachiite memorizes over the course of their lives to never forget. It becomes a lifestyle. Hate it all you want but can't do anything about it.

She rested her head on the seat and tapped at the steering wheel impatiently. She was getting late. Tardiness and she didn't go along well but her piece of junk car chose today to ditch on her. It refused to cooperate and she had to take Amal's baby with the promise of not even a scratch. She'd be a fool not to keep her word. Amal was a petty ass monster when it came to her vehicle.

She pursed her lips and did a once-over in the rearview mirror. Her hair fell in layers an inch shy of her shoulders. The makeup was sleek and didn't need any touch-ups. She quickly turned her attention back to the road ahead when her phone started ringing.

Even without looking at the caller ID, she knew who was it. A loud sigh left her mouth and annoyance filled the contours of her features. Normally, by then, any sane person would get a hint that she wouldn't answer but she never considered her boss sane anyway. He wouldn't know even if sanity hit him smack in the face in the shape of a chair. She preferred if she was the one throwing it though.

The corporate world everywhere is a royal pain but in the Pakistani setting, it takes the suffer in insufferable a notch higher. It's not the work that makes you wary, it's the environment. If you get a healthy atmosphere where you do a 9-5 every day (It never is 9-5 though. That's another scam.), congratulations. If not, well, then you and Sila are in the same boat. And that boat is shaking, my friend.

Working as an assistant operation manager for a renowned event management company, she had a love-hate relationship with her job. Love: Everything that it entailed. Hate: Her boss. The thing is, when you have an 'assistant' before your designation, you might be running everything impeccably to the t, but your boss would always look at you as if you're the Chota working on a roadside dhaba. Those little boys run that whole place but it's the stinky uncles behind the counter that take all the credit.

She brought her phone close to her face and saw the name flashing on it. "High Five" next to it there was the middle finger emoji. Yeah, that summed it up about right.

"I just got off work and I have a date. Get lost!" She drawled and cut the call without answering it. Seriously, these guys need to understand basic workplace decorum. Satisfied, she looked around where an elderly woman in the car next to her was giving her an 'are you okay?' stare. She ignored it. What else could she do? The traffic was still moving at the snail's space. To pass time, she kept her gaze on the businesses lining the pavement. The mall with more red heart-shaped banners than she could count. The restaurant where it seemed like a unicorn had thrown up his dinner. The young guy in front of it whose roadside flower stall was mimicking a groom's car.

Reds. Roses. 14th February and it's jazz. She shook her head when a smile graced her lips. But then it turned into a horrifying expression.

She had forgotten to get something for him. Well done, Sila! It wasn't her fault that it was a weekday and she was neck deep in work since the crack of dawn. But getting to a date on valentine's day without a gift? She knew he wouldn't mind but it might be the thought that counts but sometimes gestures are nice as well. Damage control was required. QUICKLY.

She rolled down her window and stuck her head out. She was in the edge lane close to the pavement. Thank God for the little blessings. She waved at the florist who rushed to her car in no time.

"Can you get me a bouquet from your collection?" She asked and the guy didn't need to be told twice. He nodded and ran to his stall. In about two minutes, the bouquet was in her hands, and the money in his. Quick and fair.

She smelled the roses and placed them on the passenger seat. Finally, something good in this clusterfuck of a day. She might have had a trainwreck day at work, her car might've broken down and she might've forgotten to get something for him but at least, the day would end on a bright note. A contented smile reached her lips. The vehicles around her started zooming past telling her the gridlock was no longer there. Ah, finally. Yes, the day was going to end on a damn good note. She grinned as she hummed along to the Weeknd and moved the steering. Abel might be blinded by the lights but she was getting late for her date.

𝄞

"Are you sure you've never appeared on TV?"

Good god. He wanted to curse out loud but instead plastered a polite smile on his face as he turned to Mrs. Junaid. "I'm afraid I haven't, Auntie."

The woman didn't look satisfied. How could she be? She was absolutely right. He had been on TV. A music video to be precise but that was a last-minute best friend favor. Osama still hadn't paid him for it, for heaven's sake.

"Okay, if you say so." She dropped the subject rather quickly and that should've given Aahil relief but for the last hour, the woman was hell-bent on knowing everything about him. Might as well ask him for his family tree. He wouldn't normally entertain such behavior but after having adventurous fifteen days in Skardu, the monotony of his life in Karachi was already getting to him. So, just to kill the time, he was humoring her. She wasn't able to get anything out of him and those facts she did manage to finagle, weren't really true. He wasn't, for starters, related to Imran Khan. And he surely wasn't a NEDian. But it was fun. The flight was more than 5 hours long for crying out loud.

He had gone there on a sponsored trip from an emerging travel company. It was part of their PR campaign. He wasn't a media personality but he had quite a fan following and a reputation as a travel enthusiast. His Instagram was proof of it. Not quite a celeb but not anything less as well.

Mrs. Junaid was coming back from Skardu with her family; her son and daughter-in-law to be exact and the couple had seats five rows behind them, away from their mother. Aahil envied them. Mrs. Junaid looked happy with the arrangement, though.

It started with her giving him a complete intro to her life in Karachi. Her neighborhood in old Clifton, her home life. Her evil daughter-in-law (her voice lowered considerably at that but she got offended when Aahil mentioned backbiting was a sin.)

She was running a marriage bureau all on her own and she had a keen eye for potential suitors. He ensured some distance between them when she mentioned that but it was probably too late. She had already found a potential suitor in him in the first fifteen minutes of their meeting and to say she was sticking to her job would be an understatement.

"What are your plans for marriage?" She finally chose the direct approach. Aahil coughed on his water.

"I happen to know a respectable family who is looking for a perfect suitor for their daughter. The girl will compliment you. It's important in this time and age to hurry with marriage to save yourself from sin, son. Get Halal as soon as you can."

He stifled the laugh that threatened to leave his mouth. Yeah, bringing in the morality card to sell her narrative and her business. Classic.

She was waiting for his answer when he checked the time on his phone and very inconspicuously placed it between them. Her razor-sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on his lock screen where three kids were grinning into the camera. Two boys and one girl. She looked at him curiously. He didn't have to feign the fond smile. "Ah. They are mine."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. You look so young. Must've gotten married at an early age. Good, good."

His eyes shone with mischief but Mrs. Junaid was too absorbed in the new information to pick on it. "Actually, it never came to marriage."

Mrs. Junaid's face morphed into horror. Aahil nodded solemnly. "Out of wedlock, all three of them. Do you want to see their mother? I must have a picture of her somewhere." He opened his phone scrolling his photo gallery. "Was she the Spanish bartender? No, it never went that far with her. The redhead from Connecticut? Her name has slipped my mind. My bad. Must be the Pakistani flight attendant I met in Dubai. Their features are telling of it. I'm not really sure, though."

He looked at her with an innocent expression on his face, somewhat confused and regrettable. But Mrs. Junair had ensured as much distance between them as the PIA seat could allow. She had also turned her head sideways, pretending to read the flight manual she had discarded in the seat bag earlier without even a glance.

"Do you really don't want to see their mother? I can find her in my camera roll if I tried." His offer was ignored. Aahil shrugged and turned to the window. His gleeful reflection smirked back at him on the glass and beyond that, fluffy clouds and an unending horizon stretched as far as eyes could go.

Aahil relaxed in his seat. Mrs. Junaid had already vanished from his mind, a barely there background detail now that he had gotten rid of her. Just two hours more and he'd land in Karachi. Fifteen days spent around the scenic beauty of Skardu. Now was the time to face the music as he hadn't told anyone about his plan. The reality was already catching up to him. His parents wouldn't be happy. Baba would be livid. But Baba was always angry so what's new about that? The rest of them would be a cakewalk.

Not her, though.

He fiddled with the button of his blazer as he thought about it. Yes, she wouldn't come around easily. But he'd see to it. It was valentine's day. He wouldn't be getting it so bad today, at least. That was just absurd.

He had it under control.

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Running a hand to smooth out the creases on her shirt, she hurried toward the table where she could see him already seated and reading the menu. It couldn't've gotten worse than this. He asked her for Valentine's dinner, and she was almost half an hour late.

"I'm really sorry. The traffic was the worst." She apologized as she took the chair in front of him.

He looked up from the card and smiled at her."It's okay. Karachi at rush hour is the worst."

She agreed with that but in her heart, she was cursing herself all the while cursing herself for forgetting the bouquet in her car. So much for nothing. Wow, Sila! Good going.

"I'm seriously feeling bad. You arranged a dinner for us and I couldn't even arrive on time."And I forgot your flowers in Amal's car.

Danish chuckled seeing her flushed face. "Come on, now. You are worrying unnecessarily. Your usual?"

"Yes, please." She said without looking at the menu. He smiled knowingly. You have to get each other's orders memorized when you had been dating for more than two years and knew each other long before that as friends and batchmates.

"So, how're things at the professional end?" Danish asked looking at his phone. Sila's face fell. She gave him a disapproving look which he would've seen had he not been immersed in his inbox. Danish was everything one could ask for in a boyfriend. But even the best ones have their vices. This was his. His attention was always divided. During the initial days of seeing each other, she used to find it annoying. They had quite a lot of arguments over his overly workaholic tendencies, but with the passage of time, she understood he won't change and she'd have to get used to it.

"Good. The event for the Khakhwanis was some work. Especially Mrs. Khakhwani was nitpicking everything. Things were rough in the beginning but then we managed to put together a good show. What about you?"

"That I'll tell you in a few."

He looked excited. Sila could feel that. Their order arrived and she was surprised to see a cake as well.

"Now you are making me curious."

Sila couldn't help a smile reaching her lips. It wasn't every day that he'd go out of his way for the sake of it. Danish wasn't big on these gestures and she never expected much but yesterday night when he called her to tell her he was taking her out for dinner, she hoped that maybe, it was because he wanted to celebrate valentine's day with her. What else it could be?

"Remember, I told you about that gig I was hoping to get?"

"Yeah?" How could she forget? That was all he could talk about for months. He was a digital marketing expert working for a graphic design company. He was one of the most ambitious people Sila knew. She herself was career-oriented but Danish was an altogether different case. He lived and breathed his work, literally.

"Well..." He grinned with eyes a brighter shade of brown.

"You got it." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. Danish nodded in affirmation. "I did. It was a piece of work but I was also clear that I had to get my hands on it. Worked out just fine. Had to celebrate."

He pointed around. Sila's smile didn't vanish but the light in her eyes dimmed. It was too good to be true. Celebrating valentine's day? Danish? No. She really made a fool out of herself by having her hopes up.

The dinner was a silent affair after that. From her side, mostly. He had lots to talk about his gig and other work commitments. This was his idea of catching up. Because of their busy schedules, they couldn't see each other every day. Normally, she'd interject after a while and steer the conversation in a more personal direction, prompting him to talk about his family and she'd tell him about hers but today, she had lost the mood for that.

The waiter came up with the bill and once it was paid he flashed them a smile. "Happy valentine's day to the both of you."

Sila glanced up at a confused Danish. "It's valentine's day today?"

Great. What a romantic dinner. What a dumb fucking woman you're, Sila.

𝄞

"If these are not fresh I'm gonna kidnap your dog, Faisal." He warned seriously. Faisal, the owner of the biggest flower delivery service in DHA rolled his eyes as he handed Aahil the bouquet.

"These look better than you. Are you sure you're dressed to woo your girl?"

Aahil ignored his jib. He hadn't gone to his place straight from the airport. Instead, he was here, buying flowers for her and formulating the best excuses in his mind. So what if his clothes were wrinkled? He had a long flight. He was tired. But she was his priority. That got to mean something, now didn't it?

He walked out of the shop without as much as a polite thank in Faisal's way. Once inside his car, he did set his hair and smoothed out his clothes to look presentable. He was about to drive off when his phone rang. He made a face seeing the caller ID. Not this asshole.

"Seems like someone's back from the mountains."

Aahil didn't greet him. Didn't give him any suitable reply. Not that the other person needed that. He'd say what he wanted to. Unrestrained loudmouthed twat.

"You know, usually people go to these lengths to relax their minds, ease their burnout or evoke the dormant creativity inside them. None of which applies to you."

"Shut your trap, Mahad. You're already boring me."

"Not quite. You must be on your way to Vaneeza's seeing she's the only person who'll cause a racket on your sudden trip and subsequent disappearance for days."

"I'm still getting bored so I'll like to end this call. A very fuck you."

Mahad was wasting his time. Always talking in the riddles. Aahil never understood why he was friends with him. But he couldn't describe it as well. He just was.

"I have my night sorted so don't be deluded I'm interested in talking to you more than you're. Just wanted to give you a heads-up."

"Stop playing dumb charades with me, Mahad."

A chuckle. Aahil was about to cut the call when Mahad's amused voice appeared once again. "If you're going to Vaneez'a place, just make sure you don't gate crash a party. An engagement party, to be precise."

With that, the line went dead. And Aahil became alert. Very alert. Then he swore. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

What a shitshow! He went to the mountains, not to Mars! He pursed his lips and started the car.

𝄞

"Keep it minimum."

Vaneeza mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror critically. Her makeup artist made a face and got to work. She'd never seen someone as bitchy on her engagement day. In a classic Zainab Chottani engagement ensemble, she was a vision but the scowl on her face hadn't eased the whole night.

The door to her room creaked open and Zoya, Vaneeza's best friend peeked inside. "Shazi, can you please give us a minute?"

Vaneeza looked up at Zoya with a raised eyebrow. Shazi immediately left. And a moment later the person who entered inside made Vaneeze get up not caring for her dress. She had an alarmed look on her face as she looked between Zoya and Aahil.

"What is he doing here, Zo? Are you out of your mind?" She whispered-yelled. Zoya didn't look her in the eye and slipped out of the room. Vaneeza could only give an exasperating stare at the closed door.

"If this is some kind of a joke then I don't like it." His tone had a hint of rage. Usually, he was too cool to give a shit about anything. Chill. Unfazed. But when he was mad, it was a thing to worry about.

"Does it look like a joke to you?" She folded her arms looking him right in the eye. She was wearing Zainab Chottani for fuck's sake. Shazi was the most expensive makeup artist in the whole DHA. The photography and event teams had last covered the LUX style awards. This was anything but a joke. His audacity had Vaneeza reeling.

"Why? All of a sudden? Have you all gone bonkers?" He reached her side in two long strides.

"That's what I ask myself every day."

He looked on confusedly when she narrowed her eyes."Where have you been the past two weeks?"

"Is it about that? Don't you think it's ridiculous?"

"Just answer my question, Aahil!"

"I was in Skardu."

"For what? A business trip? Your father is opening a new hotel there? Or you were there to attend a conference?"

He had nothing to say.

"Another vacation, then. Just how many trips do you enjoy in a year? Seven? Eight?"

"Ten but I can tone it down. I can try."

Vaneeza all but cried out in frustration."You still don't understand! It's about your sense of responsibility which isn't there! You are twenty-seven, for God's sake! The youngest in your family but the whole world won't pamper you the way they do. When will you grow up, Aahil? Parties, friends, trips, lazying around. When was the last time you actually went to your dad's office? And don't get me started on what you did to your caree—"

"Don't go there. That's enough, Vaneeza."

"I've had enough, too! You know my parents. They always warned me that this—" She pointed between them. "Won't work out. Every time they asked about your career aspirations, your seriousness about standing on your own, I had to lie. I had to dodge their questions. But then I asked myself. When? And I had no answers!"

He opened his mouth to say something. Anything. But had nothing to counter the argument.

"They have been bugging me to get engaged to Ali for six months now. Because they think you and I, we both don't have a future together. I told you about it. But what did you do? Did you change yourself? No! For how long could I stand in front of my parents? I had to give in."

"These are the reasons you are giving yourself, Vaneeza. For how long have you known me? Years. But when did you say you hated all these things about me? Never."

"I never hated you!" She shouted. Her earlier inclination toward secrecy was forgotten.

"Exactly my point." He said in a calm voice."You take every day as it comes, Aahil, and I find it admirable. That's what you said to me when we started dating."

"It was years back and people change, Aahil. Just because you didn't doesn't mean everyone else wouldn't."

"So, you decided to get engaged to Ali while we are still in a relationship?. You didn't talk it out with me. You didn't tell me that you wanted an out. You just went along with what your parents asked you to do because you couldn't mold me to your their liking. All you want is a change in me. This is who I'm. I can't do a 180 overnight! At least give me some time."

It was a request on his part. He had pushed his anger to the side. He was trying to save this in whatever meager capacity he could because by the looks of it, it for sure was over.

"I gave you enough time, Aahil. Look around. It's my engagement party."

He took a step back. Love is always worth fighting for. But was there any love in the first place? If it was, she wouldn't be standing here all ready to welcome someone else in her life.

"It means I stand no chance?"

"You lost your chance."

He chuckled sadly. "That's it then. Have a good life ahead."

He didn't stop after that. The pain was there in his heart and no matter how much he pretended that he was above it, being dumped stung, just a little but it did.

𝄞

The white corner bungalow came into her view as she entered through the gates of Parsi Colony. Wadia House. Home. She parked the car but couldn't get out right away. The bouquet of roses was on the passenger seat, She picked it up as she crossed the garden and entered the premises.

Uncle Jeff was lounging on the patio, his old record player perched on the table. Sila recognized the voice. Today's mood was Noor Jahan.

"I'm home!"

She announced to no one in particular. Saleema Baji was singing along in the kitchen as she stirred the mixed vegetables on the stove. Banu Auntie was reading her evening newspaper, her immaculately painted nails glinted under the chandelier lights. She gave a fleeting look to Sila who was busy placing the roses in the vase on the center table. Satisfied by the alignment, she turned the corner and walked the length of the hallway. Uncle Jeff's music became a distant melody in this part of the house, instead, the voice coming from inside the closed door took over.

She pushed it gently and came face to face with three pairs of curious eyes.

Rameen was the first one to spot her. She was sprawled on her bed. Amal looked up from her weekly marathon of Dhoop Kinare rewatch, her kohled eyes narrowing considerably while Haleh stopped in the middle of a call, her hands covered with blotches of blue paint. At least someone had a good and productive day.

Their inspection went on for just a few minutes. They enchanted a look amongst each other. The next moment, Rameen patted the seat next to her, Amal closed her laptop, and Haleh resumed her call. "Make it for four, please. No, not three. Four. No changes in the order. Thank you."

Sila lay down next to Rameen.

"Chinese takeout?" She asked.

"You shouldn't even ask after seeing what Saleema Baji is cooking." Rameen replied as she gave her a knowing smile. Amal had sat down on the edge of the bed, close to Sila. Haleh was on the couch.

"Want to talk about it or want a cigarette?"

Sila scrunched her nose. "Neither."

"Good. Because I have such juicy gossip to share. Gather around. I've sat on this one since I returned from campus."

"I hope it's not another tale of a sexcapade." Haleh scowled making Amal wiggle her brows suggestively. "Thank you for giving me the idea now I'll incorporate it in somehow just to make you uncomfortable."

"I hate you."

"Kisses to you too, Haleh."

And just like that, the mood was set. Sila focused on her friends' mindless chatter. Her own dumbcapade momentarily vanished from her mind.

But not everyone was that fortunate. She might have been dumb but she certainly, hadn't been dumped. Someone else had, though. And he was royally pissed about it. That would explain the fender-bender on the main boulevard. The traffic wardens were not happy about it. Did he give a rat's ass? Not really.

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