The episode had just entered the realm of mindfucking interesting but Sila peered her eyes away, not feeling the rush of another of her theory being correct.

"Okay, that's it."

She didn't look at him as he closed Netflix and placed the laptop on the side table. Tonight, eye contact with him proved to be the most cumbersome task for her.

Still, Sila chanced a look and sure enough, as he pulled the duvet on himself, his lips curled into a knowing smile. Sila's mood worsened.

"Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts."

"I didn't even say a word."

"You don't need to. I have eyes."

She pulled the duvet toward her and covered herself from head to toe.

"I told you there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You had a doubt. It got cleared. Big deal."

"Bedtime, Aahil."

She muttered but keeping him at bay was also something not possible tonight. In one swift move, she was face to face with him. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"We are supposed to share this duvet but you've hijacked it!"

"You know what? I can fit the living room couch. I should've done that earlier."

She proceeded to get away but on his watch? No. He held her hand and before she knew it, she was once again on the bed, with his face inches away from hers. "You'll only mellow in your misery and won't sleep a wink. We can't afford that."

"I very well can. Jobless and all. You are the one who has office tomorrow."

"I'm also the one who has an upset wife right now. Talk to me."

"About what exactly? You want me to repeat something I'm already feeling the absolute worst about?"

"Not really. I don't want you to bottle it up, that's it. And to think about it, your doubts weren't as misplaced. You didn't know shit and assumed the worst, happens to the best of us. No biggie."

"You're the one to say."

"Actually, I'm."

The grin was back. Sila wanted to be mad at him but what else was he supposed to do? She provided him with this entertainment herself.

"Listen—"

"I'm listening."

"Argh! I'm not a prude if you are thinking along those lines."

Aahil narrowed his eyes at her, not pleased. "When did I say that?"

"You didn't but I want to tell you. It's just that I believe in equal agency from both partners when it comes to sex. It might work for some people, the idea of submission, restrictions, and all that where one person decides the whole trajectory and the other moves along, with their consent, discovering their limits and what gets them going, on the way. I don't doubt it's pleasurable for them but it's not my preference."

She didn't look fazed as she went on. "The idea creeps me out. I don't want to leave myself at someone's mercy in my most vulnerable moment, no matter if I trust the person fully. It's not about that. It's about my active involvement. I want to be as present in it as my partner is and it can be just my thought but I think for me, that will make the experience more enjoyable. That's it. Now I should probably bolt because I can't believe I shared all this with you."

"Why? Well, technically, you are supposed to share all this with me. In fact, I'm glad we're talking about it."

"You didn't look so glad when I pulled that performance off." Sila grimace. It made him chuckle. "Well, you were having a moment and at this point of knowing you and being your husband, I've made my peace with it. There's no other way for me."

That earned him a slight jab from her. He laughed lightly and pulled her closer. Sila didn't protest as she rested her head on his arm. "What about you?"

"Me? For starters, I'm no Christian Grey."

"You asshole! You're never going to let me live this down!"

His laugh was contagious because even through her mortification, she couldn't help a chuckle.

"As I was saying, you couldn't be any more wrong in your assumption. But I resonate with everything you said just now. Equal agency from both partners. I mean it gets a lot better when you both know what you want and what you're not okay with and are comfortable in conveying as such as well. As long as there is consent and trust, we're good to go. Spontaneity is nice, but a little heads-up is fucking important so that you know which limit should never be crossed. So, for that, I'm happy that this conversation happened, no matter how it came to be."

"If we've gotten married under normal circumstances, we would've talked about all this way before the nuptials, just so you know."

"That would've been nice but we just did it so I think we're good. For further clarification, I don't drink."

Sila made a face. "I didn't ask that."

"But I thought it important to let you know. You?"

"No. What about smoking?"

"Tried once or twice. It was just okay. Vaping is also pretty meh to me so I never made it a habit. My lungs are important. You?"

Sila sighed. "Tried. Was grounded for the next whole week, and never tried again. Wasn't worth pissing Auntie Banu off. Not even close."

"Wait? You were grounded for smoking? Grounded in your twenties?"

Sila nodded, seriously. "Wait till you meet Auntie Banu's strict schoolteacher version. She's scary. Reen and I were cursing when we went along with the plan."

"Let me guess, Amal's?"

"Who else's? That girl is bonkers when she wants to be. Actually, all four of us are."

She bit her tongue, suddenly as nervous as she was sometime back. Aahil didn't have a good feeling about it. "Don't tell me—"

Sila held his arm, trying the gesture to come off as reassuring. "I will handle it. Whatever happened tonight is between us. Private. Promise."

"You better. This is the one thing where you're on your own. Their teasing is going to tear us both open."

"It won't. Just trust me, eh?"

He didn't look convinced but nodded nonetheless. Sila patted his bicep as he pulled the duvet on both of them. She thought of squirming to her side of the bed, but he had her hand in his, his finger playing with her ring as he drifted off to sleep.

Okay then.

This was the first time she was this close to him in her consciousness. Before that, it had always been half-asleep shifts, where either she'd move toward him or he'd do that.

His eyes fluttered close. The straight nose and thin lips. The stubbled jaw and the silky strand of hair.

Her eyes went down and stopped at his hand, covering hers, her ring obscured by it.

The fingers were long and flexible, slightly curved and slender enough, something that wasn't made up. She could tell.

His hands were naturally shaped up to play the instrument he had shown her a while back. A Pianist's fingers.

Her initial mortification and their subsequent conversation had occupied her mind but now that all that was pushed to the side, the most profound revelation of tonight made its presence known once again.

Music major? In composition? From one of the best music schools in the world.

She had never seen this coming.

Which brought her to another realization. She never thought of it because he never showed anything that could hint at that. This part of his life was concealed from the whole world. If it hadn't been for her meltdown over the closed door, he might've never unlocked it for her. He told her the room was out of bounds during her first hour at this place. That serious.

But why?

Why he was so evasive about a massive chunk of his life?

She knew her chances of having another conversation with him on the subject matter were slim. It was a one-time thing. That too because circumstances demanded it. Promoting him to open up more wouldn't be possible. She was sure of it.

But, once again, it made her wonder just one word.

Why?

Under any other circumstances, for anyone else, she would've let it be stating Not my problem. But that was far from the truth this time around.

It was still not her problem.

But it felt like it.

Because it was his problem. And that, kind of, made all the difference.

𝄞

He'd wake up and she'd be far too gone into the dreamland, that was their morning routine now. Aahil had gotten used to it. This was slowly becoming their thing. No one knew about it and they had no plan to let anyone know as well.

But this morning, that fact didn't make him smile as it usually would. Instead, he was in deep thought as he stood on the balcony after getting freshened up.

Last night was one mess after another. Some other time, under different circumstances, he would've laughed it off. Sila's reservations made sense but he couldn't deny whatever happened before that was comical.

Sans the opened door to a life he had said his goodbyes to years back.

Relieving her of her worries was his priority but he should've blanched the moment he realized it came at the expanse of exposing something too vulnerable to her.

That room had everything that once made him whole but tore him to pieces as well. His trust in himself and something he valued more than anything else shattered and the shards of it were scattered there on the floor. One misstep and all would be crimson, in him, around him.

So, the locked doors are sealed shut for a reason.

But her.

Yeah, her. One look. Her troubled expressions. The confusion. And he knew, this was a choice he had to make. This was the boundary he had to breach. Not in the entirety but even the smidge he unveiled had taken a fair share of courage from him and he had long established himself a coward.

This wasn't easy. She'd have questions and he'd have no right answers to those and even if he had, he wouldn't be able to voice them. Everything would come crashing down, taking him along, a whirlpool of nothingness, deeper than the ocean, more lethal. His own hell.

But she didn't let it come to that. Saving him from that downward spiral, the bottom of which was littered with the debris of his dreams, and on the walls were the shadows, long-fingered, bearing their canines and telling him it was his damn fault.

She didn't press him for further details, a very Sila thing to do and he wouldn't ever be able to tell her how thankful he was.

But for how long?

She was his wife, they lived together, and keeping her at bay wouldn't always be possible.

He wouldn't be able to run as he had done for years, country after country, looking for something bright in the bleak spaces when he couldn't even find it in himself.

One day, maybe.

But not today, surely.

It wasn't possible. For him, it really wasn't.

𝄞

It was decided that Amal would pick him up from Imran's place. Keeping her word, right on time, she was outside the main door, looking through the driver seat's window, her nose pin glinted in the sunlight.

That's how Raed found her. She waved at him, beckoning him over. He did as he was told.

"The Karachi heat has done its work, I see." She chuckled seeing he was the stark opposite of the professional statement she had always seen him in. In a white Henley with his washed jeans and sneakers, he put on his shades as he looked around.

"It has, for sure."

"You're still killing it." She deemed it important to let him know. His reply was a slight smile. "Thank you."

She swiveled the steering as they came onto the main road. "I gave it much thought how to go about with this exploration."

"And?"

"There's no guarantee whatever you come across, you'll like it. I mean when you've lived all your life in the USA, this part of the world is not much in comparison but that's the whole point, there need not be any comparison. I'm not above romanticizing this flawed city because let's be real here, it's mine regardless of the grim realities. if you keep the biases aside, it's pretty dope with all its imperfections."

She paused, giving him a once-over fleetingly. Raed matched her gaze. That made her look away. "Do you really think I left my life in the USA for the next couple of weeks, or months, came all the way here, and didn't know what I was getting into?"

"That's not—"

"This is not a commissioned project, Amal. I came here on my own accord because I want to write about this city. I'm not here to measure its beauty on a scale of one to a hundred NYC or Dallas, Miami, or LA. I'm here to see Karachi. Just that. And if in doing so, I fall in love with it, that's a bonus."

Amal was quiet for a beat, looking ahead at the road. Then slowly, a smile reached her lips. "Did you have your breakfast?"

"Coffee and croissants."

She made a face. "That's hardly a breakfast."

"It's my usual, Amal."

"Not in Karachi."

Her eyes brightened. Raed looked on at her curiously. "What?"

"Let's start your Karachi experience with what this city is the most famous for. Food."

Raed didn't protest, ready to start this journey.

After the drive of some fifteen minutes, Amal stopped outside a local hotel. A man working on the front counter nodded at her and she smiled in return, greeting him. His eyes then went toward Raed. Amal pushed him forward. "A guest, Dilawar Bhai."

The man, Dilawar grinned. "Would've fooled me if you didn't specify." He pointed at Raed's typical foreign looks.

"I know right? Let's treat the guy with the best Anda Paratha in the city!"

"Coming right away!"

Lachaydar Paratha, eggs, and a cup of tea. Amal gestured for him to begin when the breakfast finally appeared before them.

"I deliberately didn't choose Halwa Puri. Let's start light. Though, this Lachaydar Paratha can by no means be called that."

She had already started with hers, urging him to go on. Raed rolled the sleeves of his Hanley and grinned at her.

She soon realized what was the reason for this secretive smile.

"This isn't your first time enjoying desi breakfast." It was more of a statement than a question. Raed pushed his empty plate aside and took a sip of the tea. "No, but it's my first time trying the Karachi food."

"Let me guess, A desi restaurant back home?"

"Some desi friends, more precisely."

"And here I was feeling special."

He got up, ready to pay but Amal beat him to that. "Remember the treat I promised you?"

"For checking out my Linkedin with your friend?"

"Hey! It was for educational purposes."

"Works of genes or photogenic. Very enlightening discourse."

"We are intellectuals like that."

Raed didn't comment on it but his smile remained intact. He and Amal walked to his car.

"Where to now?"

Amal rested her arm on the roof of her car. "That's for me to know and for you to glide along."

Raed mimicked her movements. "Sounds like a plan."

𝄞

"To be honest, we really needed some ladies' time without the men."

Nawar munched on the sandwich. Adan nodded along, in full agreement. "Agreed but my husband's foreign trips need to be cut short for some time now. I'm tired of this fractured long distance. My baby is also tired of seeing her Baba after days."

Adan's pout told more about the weariness of Hanah's Mama than Hanah's. Misam's professional commitments demanded he travels around constantly, something Adan might have made her peace with but she still didn't like it.

"I told you the guy is a workaholic to the t and proceed with caution but one look at him on your engagement day and you were flat. I don't know what I used to eat that the romantics run in the blood of the whole family."

Adan smirked. "I'm bloody sure it didn't come from you. Dada Jani was a charmer. He could give Dev Anand a run for his money."

"No, Adan, don't speak rubbish. Dev Sahab was something else. Even your grandfather agreed."

Nawar looked at Sila and mouthed "Dado is a Dev Anand fan." Not that Sila couldn't see it. Dado was now humming a tone under her breath. Sila could identify it as Khoya Khoya Chand, thanks to Uncle Jeff's music player.

"Is Baba still busy on the phone?" Adan asked Sabah who sighed, taking a sip of her tea. "Yes. Aahil was causing a racket over nothing. Baba got to go home while Bhai and I are stuck in ANOTHER meeting. And here is his Baba, call after professional call since the moment he got back home."

That got a laugh out of everyone. "That guy and his ability to throw tantrums."

"We should be happy he still stuck to his end of the deal. I had no hopes he'd go back after ACHC."

Adan's comment paused the easygoing energy momentarily. Sila looked on at all of them confused. "A deal?"

Mrs. Irshad grumbled at Adan, knowing too well why she did it but Adan was unfazed. "What? Sila is now family, she should know."

"That's not the point, Adan."

Sabah reprimanded her. They'd like it if Aahil himself told her about it but Adan and her perfect timing.

"You know Aahil. Faseeh was adamant that he should join the family business and Aahil tried to hold his own as much as he could. At the last, there was an agreement between the father-son duo. Six months of Aahil's life where he'd be associated with Jahan and in return, Faseeh will sponsor Aahil's dream trips across the world."

Dado's explanation made sense but Sila still could feel that was not it. Not the whole thing. Adan's pressed lips and Sabah's disapproval, Nawar's apologetic waned smile.

The conversation resumed after that. Nawar and Mrs. Irshad's efforts dissipated the tension to a great extent but Sila could still feel Adan wanted to say more.

"Sila-Jee?"

The familiar voice reached Sila, a reminder of last night's blunder but when she faced Asiya, Sila had a polite smile on her face.

"Yes?"

"Sir has asked me to call you to his study."

Ohkay. Sila looked around at the ladies none of them seemed even a bit perturbed.

"Go on, Sila. Baba must've something important to discuss."

Nawar prompted her. Sila got up to leave. Talking to Faseeh Jahangir wasn't as daunting as it was when she worked for AJ. The man was now her father-in-law before anything else.

With a clear knock on the door, Sila stood waiting for his cue and she didn't have to wait for long. When she entered inside, Faseeh was standing close to his table, sipping his coffee.

Uncle or Sir? She was in a dilemma. But Faseeh's easygoing energy solved it for her in no time. "Sila Beta, Come on in."

She did as she was told and stood close to him. "Coffee?"

She shook her head. "Thank you...Uncle but I already had my tea with everyone."

"Okay, but you should try your Aunti's coffee sometimes. The best."

Cute. Who could say this serious shrewd businessman was such a hypeman for his wife?

"I got to know you've left AJ events."

"I did. It was not feasible to continue there anymore."

Faseeh looked in agreement with it. "A good decision, with everything that went down. What's the plan now?"

"Now? Well, I've applied to some other companies but I'm yet to hear from them. Let's see."

"And what about Jahan?"

Sila's smile was half nervous, half confident. "Are you offering me a job, Uncle?"

"I'm presenting you with a prospect. If you want it to be a proper job offer, then why not."

"I'm afraid I can't accept that."

Faseeh wasn't surprised, as if he had expected that only. Sila continued. "I've worked with your event coordinator team and those people are settled into their roles. Also, there's no room for me on the team. I'd hate to take someone's place when they are working hard to be where they are. More or less the same happened to me so I know how it feels. Also,"

She played with her fingers. "When I was working for Ajwa, some of the more prominent but less promising companies reached out to me with better pay packages than AJ's. At that time, I saw the bigger picture, that someday, in the near future, AJ will be the big thing and I will be its most indispensable asset. That came to be true but not so much. So, now, I have to prove to myself that I've still got it and AJ wasn't the end of everything. That's why I need something more challenging. Something I got my hands on my own."

"I didn't make this offer as a favor. I've seen your work, Sila. ACHC? Remember? But I appreciate your commitment to your ethics. Aahil kind of already hinted that this would be your answer."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. So, all the best, and remember, if anything goes wrong, you are supposed to let us know. You're part of the family, as important to us as Faran, Nawar, Adan, Misam, and Aahil are. Jahangirs look out for each other. You're one now."

Saying that he patted her head in a fatherly manner. Sila hadn't expected this affection. It was wholesome and overwhelming. She felt her eyes stinging. Family. What a beautiful word. An even more beautiful emotion.

She came out of the study and was on her way to the lounge when she ran into Asiya. Just her luck.

"Sila-Jee."

She singsonged with more interest than necessary. Sila braced herself for what was to come. "Yes, Asiya?"

"Cleaning Sir's place was my least favorite thing to do, not going to lie. I don't even see the appeal of the high-rise apartment. The sea is dangerous, don't you know? One misstep and," She ran her finger over her neck, imaginary slashing it.

"Asiya—"

"But now that you're there, it all changes. How right they are. Marriage is surely a blessing. I can't wait to be back and if sir has permitted it, I'll even clean the locked room."

She waggled her brows. Sila took a deep breath. Her scowl deepened with each passing second.

"Has he?"

"Did someone ever tell you that you're very nosy? If not, take my word for it, Asiya."

Asiya's mouth opened. Ha, act surprised now. Sila placed her hands on her sides, ready to charge.

"This isn't a good look. Intruding into someone's privacy is not done. No matter how intrigued you're. You don't have to worry about that room. My husband and I will take care of it. You don't even have to come to clean. I can take care of my place on my own. Just try to be respectful."

Asiya looked behind her and if her small lecture hadn't worked entirely, that did. She scurried away, with a litany of apologies leaving her mouth.

"Sila?" Sabah stood right behind her. Sila faced her with her scowl finally easing. "Auntie."

"Did she snoop around?"

"Let's forget about it, Auntie. Just don't send her to our place anymore. Aahil and I will see to it."

Sabah looked in the direction Asiya had just left and then at Sila. "She mentioned the...room."

Sila's shoulder slumped immediately. Oh, no. She couldn't retell that shitfest.

"Auntie, that—"

"Did he show you around? Did he open the room?"

There was a hint of desperation to Sabah's question and anticipation. Sila nodded slowly and as soon as she did, Sabah's face broke into a teary smile.

Sila held her hand. "Auntie? Is everything alright?"

Sabah wiped a tear. "I will be. I have a strong feeling."

Saying that she caressed Sila's cheek and both of them walked to the rest of the family. But to say was confused would be an understatement.

𝄞

Even though this was his usual route to work, it was probably after years that he stopped by here. That could essentially summarize his life for the past couple of years.

Danish leaned against the opposite wall of the restaurant and gazed at the evening rush. Up ahead of the road, their university campus was situated. This was the closest hangout space apart from the business school cafeteria. He'd meet up with Rameen and Sila there and together the three of them along with some other friends would hit this place. Good 'ol days when their end-semester projects were difficult but life was easy.

Nostalgia again, Danish?

He chuckled to himself. He was doing that a lot lately. He wasn't kidding when he told Sila he needed to work on himself because not just her, at that point, he was good for no one. Not even himself.

The self-introspection began soon after that. He analyzed everything wrong with him.

His job came on top of the list.

He was burned out without even realizing it. His workspace was toxic and he was expected to work like a robot.

He believed in that as well. That much the race had affected him. Whenever the idea of quitting even crossed his mind, he brushed it off. He was no protagonist, neither was it an Imtiaz Ali movie. It was real life with its very real problems which were all the more daunting when you belong to the upper middle class in this economy. You can't quit. It's not even an option.

But for how long?

One day you are bound to feel the weariness in your bones. If the work doesn't break your back, the system for sure would.

That's what happened to him.

So, finally understanding Imtiaz Ali's protagonists, he resigned.

It wasn't to follow a career path he had always envisioned for himself. It was to take a step back and put a full stop to the exploitation he'd been facing at the hands of a flawed system and a capitalist market. Especially when it wasn't even paying him as it should. His side gigs were more or less bringing in the same amount of money.

So, here he was. Jobless, with no relationship, all of the meaningful friendships were gone from his life and he was here for the sake of the nostalgia.

A recipe for disaster?

Debatable because even through all this, his heart was somewhat at peace. He was surrounded by so many wrongs but standing here, looking at a place that once meant a lot to him, he felt right after a long time.

That's why he took out his phone, angled it to the city lights around the busy road, and clicked a picture.

Without waiting anymore, for his natural hesitation to make its presence known, he sent it to the one person he knew would love this shot. It had everything she loved.

At the same time, Rameen's phone pinged with a text. She had just let herself relax after reading Sila's text in the GC that she and Aahil were good. It was a misunderstanding on her part and she didn't want to talk about it anymore.

All their teasing aside, Amal and Haleh understood the undertone without Rameen having to break it down to them. So, now, everything was good. Rameen could finally take a breath of relief.

That was before Danish's message.

He didn't say anything. It was just a picture of the restaurant close to the campus.

But it spoke of so much that Rameen felt her eyes welling up. She touched the picture again and finally, with a smile, kept on looking at it till the screen got blank.

𝄞

"This is your third trip back home in the span of less than a month. Doesn't look good on a busy CEO."

Bakhtawar made it a point to remind him of this. Not that it made any difference to him. He was still by her side, hugging her close.

"All my mum's fault. She's spoiled me rotten."

"Yeah, blame this on me as well."

Mahad laughed lightly at that. Both of them made their way to the dining room as it was time for dinner. Mahad's arrival had filled the Lashari House with the same joy they were used to. Bakhtwar's otherwise impassioned face was beaming with joy. It was no news, Mahad had that effect on his mother.

The rest of the family was yet to arrive but Dada Jaan was already there, busy on his phone.

"Bachay, I know but I was feeling under the weather, that's why had to skip."

Mahad stopped in his tracks, and so did Bakhtawar. His face showed recognition. Hers contorted into an expression of dislike. Dada Jaan hadn't noticed them yet.

Something was said on the other end which made his features tender with fatherly love. Anyone who saw him right now could say how attached he was to the person on the other side.

"I promise it won't happen again. Yes, I also promise to take care of myself."

He laughed heartedly then. "Okay, okay. I will come prepared. Have to make up to my favorite Bacha."

Bakhtawar had had enough of this. Mahad hadn't realized but the moment they stood listening to the one-sided conversation, he and Bakhtawar had moved away from each other without even trying.

"Mama."

He followed her to the kitchen. Bakhtawar appeared to be busy with the sweet dish but Mahad knew better.

"You know it was just a phone call."

"Don't try to meddle in something you don't know."

He nodded, trying his best to not come across as condescending to his mother. Otherwise, her reaction to Haleh and Dada Jaan's conversation rubbed him the wrong way, even though, that was her standard response.

"You're also hating on someone you don't know, Mama."

Bakhtawar flinched as if she was stung. "Mahad!"

He pursed his lips. "It's not right. I mean you've never even met her. Don't you think that's a bit harsh? Mama, you're one amazing human. I've always seen you so full of love toward everyone. When Tayi Ma turns a blind eye to Gina's pain, you give her the motherly support she needs. When Taya Abu passed away, you were there for both Rony and Tayi Ma. Then why this selective hate toward someone you have never even seen?"

Bakhtwar was taken aback by his small speech. He also was. Did he just question his mother for Haleh?

"Go to your grandfather. I'm going to set the table."

He was about to protest but then thought against it. Wordlessly, he left from there. Bakhtawar kept on looking at his retreating back searchingly.

𝄞

She had gotten back home a while back. After getting freshen up, she sat down to check the status of her job applications. There was no luck so far but it hadn't been long since she applied so she was hopeful.

Minimizing the tabs, she leaned into the couch and rested her head on the cushion.

Today's visit to the Jahangir residence was both confusing and enlightening. The enlightenment was in the fact that there was definitely something at play beneath the surface she had no idea about. Aahil's past and lifestyle weren't just his sore point, they were for the rest of the Jahangirs as well.

The happening of the last night and now today floated in front of Sila in slow succession.

Aahil's resistance, Adan's displeasure, Sabah's emotions, and Nawar and Mrs. Irshad's not-so-silent silence.

Sila ran her finger on the surface of her laptop mindlessly when suddenly, an idea ran through her head.

Could she?

Why no!

She immediately opened Chrome again and typed the name that had been associated with her since their Nikkah.

Even after being a Jahangir, her husband's online presence was in the shadows. She could see his link to Faseeh Jahangir and some of the recent articles related to the clusterfuck they faced together. His travel Instagram was nowhere to be found and Sila had called it. That profile gave nothing about him being a Jahangir.

Then her lips curled into a smile.

It was the link to a music video, at the bottom of the page. Sila opened it and immediately, YouTube loaded and the video played. The song was the debut of a Pakistani pop band. The MV was directed by Osama Siddiqui. Sila could see why he agreed to be a part of it. Best friend's favor.

He hadn't pushed his inner actor onto the surface. In the video, he didn't have to act much as it is. He just had to sit there, looking at the horizon being handsome, and that he did complete justice to. Full marks to the fit and the brooding persona.

That was it.

Nothing much was there.

But Sila wasn't going to sit down just like that. She typed a simple word with his name. Berklee.

And the results couldn't have been more different.

Several articles, some profiles from his ensemble, and YouTube video links.

Sila wasn't aware if she was breathing when she breezed through all that and then slowed down, taking her time to absorb all this.

Berklee South Asian ensemble ready to make history, the lead pianist is the one everyone has their eyes set on

"The Berklee fall showcase full highlights-Aahil once again at the top with his piano

BeatItUp Records signed a Berklee student for their upcoming untitled project"

"The Berklee's star behind the haunting melody of 'Summer at the Shoreline'. The movie's album has begged several national and international accolades"

"In conversation with a multi-talented musician from Berklee who's Trilingual, Tri-instrumentalist, a composer, and a producer"

The articles came rapidly and then just like that, they stopped. As if an interruption caused the flow to break.

When she moved the cursor to a YouTube link, she realized her hands were shaking.

That was a whole world on its own. Showcases, ensemble performances, tributes to famous musicians, all the time Piano, but in between a guitar and once in a while, behind the drums.

Aahil the son of the Jahangirs might not be around much but Aahil the musician from Berklee was all over the internet.

Sila stopped at the video. She couldn't move past. The thumbnail showed him with his piano. A love affair with a Melody— 05:35

The next five minutes or more, Sila knew, were going to change everything.

And they did.

Because when the video ended, he was smiling.

But she had tears in her eyes.

There were no two ways about it. This man, this wonderful, insanely talented man had lost...This

And the least a loss of this gravity deserved were the tears.

𝄞

Coffee after dinner wasn't his usual preference. He believed in a good night's sleep to have the stamina for a packed day ahead but tonight, he had lots on his mind and a mug of caffeine was needed to sort it through.

They weren't far from winding up the schedule for the movie. Things were turning out to be exactly in line with his, Neha, and Mani's liking.

But the movie was the least of his worries right now.

The friendship with Rimsha was an unexpected turn his life took. But he went with the flow and found out, sometimes, saying bye to your inner monologue is important.

Rimsha and his like-mindedness had surprised even him. She was everything he admired in a person, now that his initial hesitation and indignation had subsided.

She was perfect as a friend and would also be perfect as what she initially wanted to be for him.

What, deep down she still hoped to be for him.

But that's where he drew the line. The one thing that hadn't changed since the moment he gave his and Rimsha's friendship a chance.

Rimsha hadn't tried anything, so far and he was thankful for it. He couldn't say anything about the future but right now, he pretty much enjoyed being her friend as did she.

But this change had also made some other convictions glaringly obvious.

Someone as amazing as Rimsha had come into his life and all he could give to her was a friendship card. Nothing more because he was not able to.

Would all his life be spent this way?

The thought was an awakening.

He couldn't mourn something that had run its course. It would be fucking unfair to himself. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be loved. He deserved to let the bygones be just that. He also deserved to look at that chapter of his life, shake his head and move on, hand in hand with what life blessed him with.

But right now, he was unable to do that.

Because he never got closure. Heck, he never got any answers. Just radio silence echoes of his own voice, the whys coming back to him, different frequency, same impact.

Why Alina?

And for the first time, he didn't want to ask this as a broken whisper. He wanted to throw this question at her with the sole intent of getting an answer and being done with whatever it was.

No matter how much his heart still ached for her.

He was a fucking fool who let a heartbreak define his course in life and he was a fool now as well who let it fester for this long.

Answers and closure.

Because he was tired. He needed to move on.

And it had nothing to do with her doing that some years back. That was her timing. This was his. It had to be because this was enough.

That was on his mind as he drove toward her place. Without caring for the time or decency.

But as soon as he stood outside her door, his steps slowed. His conviction waned.

No time for second-guessing anything. He braced himself and was about to ring the bell when the door opened and a worried Alina stepped outside. Her worry morphed into confusion and then resignation seeing him.

"Osama."

Not a question. Just his name was uttered with a hint of helplessness.

He looked at her, head to toe, no! This wasn't an out-of-bed or relax-at-home look. She was about to leave. At this hour?

"Are you going somewhere?"

She nodded and if he hadn't been paying enough attention, he would've missed the slight sniffle. "I'm."

"This late? Where?"

This time, she braced herself. "Police Station. They have arrested my mother."

𝄞

The whole time during dinner, he had felt her eyes on him. He tried brushing it off at first but then, called her out. She didn't mind that. But she didn't stop with her appraisal as well.

"Now, seriously."

He paused the episode and pointed toward the laptop. "This is where the screen is at. Focus, Sila. You don't want to break your right theory streak."

"I know it's not your first time watching this show."

His eyes widened slightly. Sila rested her face on her palm, looking at him. "You were feigning surprise whenever there was an important revelation and trust me, you might be in a music video but you're not a very good actor."

Aahil looked down, his secret was out. Yeah, he had watched this series before. But immediately, he looked up with narrowed eyes. "How do you know I was in a music video?"

Sila's face remained neutral. Aahil felt a sense of forbidding. Her gaze on him was too sharp as if she could read everything he was trying to hide.

"Sila..."

"Why did you stop making music?"

It wasn't a question. It was more than that. It wasn't just good-natured curiosity. It was more than that.

Aahil maintained the distance between them. Sila stayed put, though. Waiting for him.

"Let's get back to the show. Jonas is about to wreak more havoc—"

But Sila effortlessly stopped him. Her hand was on his forearm. Aahil wanted to move away but the warmth kept him grounded.

"Why?"

Again. As a gentle whisper. Coaxing? A silent plead.

He suddenly got up. His face was impassive, jaw set and eyes hard. "Maybe because I was shit at it?"

Sila followed him but he stopped her with a gesture of his hand. When he spoke, his voice was ice.

"Maybe because I wasted my years and broke my parent's hopes? Maybe because I should've never taken that road. Maybe I was so bad that no amount of reassurance could make up for my shortcomings. Maybe—"

Sila covered the distance between them in no time and held his face in her palms.

The ice got burned. The icicles gave out the smoke of a charred facade.

"Shhhh!"

She silenced him when he opened his mouth again.

"I'm sorry that I asked. I really am. It won't happen again. "

The thumb slowly caressed a path down his cheek. "If you don't want to tell me, then don't. But for the love of everything, don't lie, Aahil. Please, don't. When it's about something so precious. Don't do it injustice. I won't allow you."

Word tried their best but lost somewhere around him. She didn't leave him. Her hands stayed.

And when she finally tried to get away, he didn't let her.

His hands came around hers, on his face. Like a plead through touch. Stay. I don't know how to ask for it but don't go. Don't take this warmth away.

And Sila didn't. Slowly, she rested raised on her feet, taking advantage of the only the few inches he had on her.

A slight touch of her lips close to his, fleeting and barely there, and then her forehead was on his.

He closed his eyes.

The ice was still there.

But it had started melting.

It was her warmth against his cold. The battle was already lost. But that loss was his only victory.

𝄞