Osama was yet to respond to what she'd said when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and found a lady making her way toward them. She smoothed her clothes and hurriedly reached their side.

"The car's ready, Alina. I've also woken up your uncle. Let's go now."

Her eyes darted from Alina to Osama. "Oh, you've called a friend? Good good!"

Alina gave her a waned smile. "Mrs. Ikhlaq, I'm thankful for your help at this hour. I really am..."

She faltered and pursed her lips. Osama saw the hesitation in her stance. Mrs. Ikhlaq's help was appreciated but she'd rather not show her the messed up state of her mother's social life. That part was not something she took pride in.

"Alina's right, Mrs. Ikhlaq." Osama took a step forward in the woman's direction who genuinely looked concerned. "It's quite late. I'll take Alina to the police station and as soon as we are done there, she'll let you know. This is why she called me here."

An effortless lie to save Alina from a situation she was pulled into without having any part to play. That was always her equation with her parents, nothing new for Osama.

"Oh, that'll be good. I just didn't want her to go there all alone. As you said, it's quite late. Good that you're here, son. I was wondering why Alina didn't call any of her friends. I live across the street and often see you all stopping by her place. As far as I know, all of you are pretty solid. Do let me know when everything gets sorted."

She let it slide if she suspected Osama didn't come here often. "You good, Alina?"

Alina nodded at that. Osama wasted no time in opening the car door for her and she immediately got inside. As they drove out of the street, Mrs. Ikhlaq's worried face vanished behind the bricked walls surrounding the area. As soon as Osama put the car on the main road, Alina frantically dialed a number. Osama stayed quiet, focused on the road but fully aware of her agitation as she waited for the other person to pick up.

"Dad."

She breathed through the phone. "Are you aware—"

Whatever was said on the other side added to her distress. "Really, now? This isn't the time to keep score!"

The response was more frustrating if her incoherent replies were to go by.

"You know I can't do that. Let her be? Dad, that's not—"

Her father didn't let her say much. In a few seconds, when Alina tried to reason with Amir Asfandyar, the call was disconnected.

She slumped against the seat, her seatbelt digging into her torso as she looked outside of the window. Then slowly, her eyes fell on Osama.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

Osama had an idea. Her one-sided conversation with her father was telling of so much, and Osama was aware of most of it already. The four years of being her boyfriend gave him a good insight. But he didn't want to say it to her face. She needed his silence more than his words when he didn't have good things to say about her parents.

Twenty minutes later, they were inside the police station. Mahvish Asfandyar was arrested during a raid on an elite poker club as city police's anti-gambling campaign. It was more of a new money-grabbing tactic, arresting people from the elite circles and then demanding fitting bribes to let them loose. Alina was not surprised when she came to know Mahvish was the only person left to be taken out of there. The rest of her club members were already released, some weren't even locked up owing to their influence and prompt action.

Osama stood to the side watching Alina going through the procedure. The precision had him scowling. Not the first time, hun?

But she wasn't happy being here. Her mortification and concealed annoyance were not that hard to pick up on. That slightly comforted Osama. But it also filled him with abhorrence for Mahvish Asfandyar once again. What parent put their child through this time and again?

As if on cue, the woman came prancing through the holding cell, flinging the constable's hand away, a scowl set on her face. Alina looked up from the papers fleetingly. The disapproval intensified. She immediately scribbled her signatures and handed the money to the authorities. She didn't wait after that and was out of there in record time as if she'd be scorched if she spent one moment more there.

"Alina!"

Alina stopped at some distance from Osama's car. She turned around but only after bracing herself for this confrontation.

"Congratulations, Mom. You just completed your hat trick."

Mahvish's face contorted into an expression of displeasure. "Don't talk to me like that."

"I will talk to you as I fucking like, mother. When I always have to come and clean your mess for you."

Mahvish's eyes widened. Alina immediately regretted her words but what could she do here? She was done with this shit.

"So, this is what I've become to you? A burden you can't wait to discard?"

Here we go again. Alina gave Mahvish an exasperated look but that only spurred her on. "You sure are your father's daughter. His cunning runs into you and so is his indifference. I didn't ask for you to come and get me! I was trying to contact—"

"No one was going to come for you, Mom. If you haven't noticed, you don't have loyal friends who'll have your back."

Alina's voice had grown soft but it felt like a blazing iron rod to Mahvish. "My family also doesn't have my back, it seems."

Alina ran a hand through her hair, done with this conversation already. Mahvish was unfazed by it, though. "Your father refuses to be involved. You come running to help just to spite me! I'm an adult! I know what am I doing! Don't you dare give me this patronizing look, Alina! This 'mother, you could've done better' stare. I'm your parent! Not the other way around! And for the love of God! Stop running your hands through your hair! This color makes your features and complexion look made-up! It's tacky!"

A humorless chuckle left Alina's lips. "It's not. We are way past that phase where you'd comment on my choices and I'd cower in a corner reevaluating everything, Mom. Please, stop. Dad refuses to be involved, that's your and his issue since you both don't ever tell me your actual problem with each other but give me a shouting marathon to endure. And no! I don't come running whenever you get yourself in trouble just to spite you. I do that because I know no one else will. I'm your one and only help. No matter what, I have to be there because I can't abandon you. It's been proven time and again."

That made Mahvish deflate immediately. She looked away from Alina. Her shoulders slumped. But when Alina put a hand on it, Mahvish didn't pry it away.

"But you could've done better, Mom. I told you to get help. This behavior is not healthy anymore. In fact, it never was. But always brush it off. You think I'm useless but it's me you always tell the authorities about. It's me whose number they ring in the middle of the night. But I'm tired of being your 2 AM contact. I really am. I'm tired of pulling favors for you. I'm tired of selling my essentials to bail you out."

"I told you I'd get you a new car!"

"How?"

The question left a heavy silence in its wake. Mahvish opened her mouth to say something to her, anything but then again, what could she tell her daughter? That, in the high of her money debauchery, she never once thought of it?

"Exactly. So, please, straighten your act. How? When? I don't know. As you said you're the parent and not the other way around. I'm done. I'm tired of parenting you."

"Alina—"

But before Mahvish could say more, Osama unlocked his car and the loud beep effortlessly put an end to the conversation. Going a step further, he opened the passenger side door and gestured for Alina to get in.

She wasted no time in following him. She didn't stop to ask Mahvish how'd she get home. She was an adult, as she claimed to be. It was high time she figured it out and start acting like one.

The car zoomed out of there and Mahvish kept on looking at it with an impassioned face.

For the first few minutes, Alina was silent. She wiped a lone tear on her cheek but that was about it. Years of living this way had toughened her up. But as soon as they came out of the police station's vicinity, she turned toward Osama.

"I know it's freaking impolite to ask another favor from you—"

"What it is, Alina?" He asked, cutting her mid-sentence.

She fiddled with her purse. "Can you drop me at Mahad's?"

Osama raised an eyebrow. Alina's fiddling intensified. "She didn't have the last say as you must've noticed. So, she's not going to sit silently, and God! I've had enough of her for tonight. Going back home isn't a good idea."

Osama's face was unreadable. "Does he know?"

"No. I didn't inform anyone. It was quite late and it's not like I was doing it for the first time. Only Mrs. Ikhlaq and her husband know as I asked to burrow Uncle's car for some time. They both decided to tag along."

"They are good neighbors."

Alina looked down at her hands. "They are." Unlike my parents. She thought but kept the bit to herself.

Osama took a long pause as if contemplating something. Alina gave him a questioning look.

"We shouldn't disturb Mahad. He has a busy day ahead of him."

"What? And how do you know?"

"Group chat."

The one he got kicked out from yesterday because he told Mahad that fraternizing with the likes of Aun Peerzada served him right. He was team Haleh and hoped she'd kick his ass for him. Mahad was obviously not pleased, hence the block.

Alina suddenly looked alarmed. "Then where am I supposed to spend the night?"

It wasn't a rhetorical question but became one when Osama stopped the car right outside his place. Alina shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Osama was already out. He bent down outside her window so that he was at face level with her. "Mahad is out of the picture, Alina. That leaves you with Aahil but do you honestly want to interfere in a newly married couple's privacy?"

Alina gave it a thought and immediately, her answer was a No.

"That's what I thought. This," He pointed at the front door of his house. "Is your safest bet. Come on, now."

And that's what Alina did. Even though she didn't have a good feeling about it. She followed him to the door with shaky legs as if she were treading muddy waters. This night was full of surprises. When she finished her dinner of homemade Alfredo pasta, she never knew in just a few hours she'd be scrambling to get to the police station, would find Osama at her door, and eventually, would end up at his place.

Jodi opened the door before Osama could ring the bell. He must've told her about the new arrival. The smile she welcomed Alina inside with was nothing but warm.

"Should I prepare something for you, Alina? If not dinner then coffee? Tea? But if you're tired, you can go straight to the guestroom. It's ready."

Jodi started excitedly but one look at Osama and she knew it was too early for the niceties. Mumbling an excuse Alina couldn't make sense of, Jodi was out of the lounge.

Alina could feel his eyes on her. The gaze prompted her to look him in the eye but Alina couldn't. Not after tonight. Not after her conversation with her mother, he must've listened to it. They weren't exactly subtle about it and he was standing at a short distance.

"Sit down, Alina."

"I'm good."

He pursed his lips but the heated gaze didn't waver. He folded his hands and rested his forefingers on his lips, in an expression of concentration.

"So, this is why you sold your car."

Contrary to her initial hesitation, she was in far better control of her nerves. She nodded in affirmation. There was no point in denying the obvious.

"And it wasn't the first time you bailed your mother out of jail."

"Osama, don't do it."

"Don't do what exactly."

There was anger but there was vulnerability as well. And surety. "Treat me like a teenager who doesn't know anything."

"You mean not to treat you like your parents do?"

It hurt. No matter if it was the truth, bitter, not easy to swallow but truth, nonetheless. Alina didn't let it show, though.

"I told you it was a bad idea for me to stay overnight." She got up and so did Osama.

"Bad idea, how? Just because I'm trying to show you the truth?"

"I know the truth, Osama."

"Your actions say otherwise."

"My actions aren't your responsibility. They haven't been for years." She mumbled softly but it was loud enough to collide with the sturdy walls of the lounge. "I don't think you'll understand."

Osama was tired. He had seen and heard enough tonight. "Damn straight. I won't."

The emotions on Alina's face were palpable, raw, and heart-wrenching. So much so that Osama felt himself stumbling even though he was standing firm on his feet.

"You never did." Alina's words were just for herself but they reached him. And he felt the enormity even though he couldn't fully understand it. She immediately schooled her expressions.

"You need to realize that just because you have functioning and supportive parents who have their shit together doesn't mean you need to judge everyone on the same scale of sanity. Some of us weren't that lucky."

"This isn't the point."

She smiled dejectedly. "Trust me, it is. You can't comprehend why someone will put up with their rather problematic parents. Do you think I can't see through their lies? Their manipulations? Them projecting their failed relationship on me? The judgment? The emotional blackmailing and then gaslighting? I understand it all, Osama. I'm sorry but it's me who's been putting up with this shit for years now! I know it all."

"Then why do you suffer? Why do you let it happen repeatedly?"

"Because at the end of the day, they are my parents. I can't cut them off from my life like they don't exist. It's not easy as some people make it out to be. If you want to call me a loser, go for it. I won't hold it against you. Maybe, the little girl will always be there in me who hoped that one day her parents will miraculously start understanding her. One day they will be my idea of home as for so many their parents are, yours, Aahil's."

She wiped her tears. Her throat felt constricted with emotions. "I can't always run away from my reality, Osama. Gnarled, full of thorns, and ugly. Yes, but it's what I have in my life. And I can't always forget it in a safe cocoon when that is not even there anymore."

"It wasn't his choice to leave." It was also said with absolute vulnerability. Was there any end to this pain? The emotions were now too overwhelming to push back.

"I'm leaving."

Alina announced. She hadn't even reached the middle of the room when she felt her hand in his.

"Don't, Alina. Stay."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Even after all this?" She pointed around, hinting at their argument just now. For the most part.

"Even after everything." He said with conviction, also about their argument just now. For the most part.

Alina shook her head, ready to refuse. His imploring eyes stayed on her. She finally caved, with a deep sigh.

"The guest room?"

"The guest room."

Without waiting for another argument to ensue, Alina made her way toward the door Osama has pointed to. Once inside, she leaned against it.

Tears blurred her vision but when it settled, the folded clothes on the bed came into her focus. And seeing those, she felt her eyes welling up once again.

In his room, Osama sat on the edge of the bed. His phone was in his hand. His text conversation with Jodi was there in front of him, his instructions to have clean comforting clothes there in the guestroom.

Alina couldn't sleep in her outside clothes. She had to get comfortable if she was to hit the bed.

How strange is it that, you remember the habits, the distance between you two is of mere footsteps, you both know each other like the back of your hands.

But all of that isn't there to save what you lost.

It only adds to the anguish.

𝄞

His eyes opened with a start. It was probably the first time in the past month that he didn't have a good night's sleep. All night, he drifted in and out, with flashes of the past making it hard to relax. But a hand was enclosed in his and somehow, that lulled him back to the dreamland.

He sat up straight in the bed and instinctively, his head whipped to the side.

Empty.

In a single look, he figured she wasn't in the room. That was strange, far from their normal. That's when it hit him, the aroma of boiling tea, along with toast and what was that? Eggs? He'd need to have a look to confirm.

Pulling his duvet aside, he got freshen up and made his way out of the room. As expected he found Sila in the kitchen space, preparing breakfast and humming under her breath. Sensing his presence behind her, she craned her neck and gave him a smile.

"Good morning."

Aahil stood next to her, his eyes taking in the fresh breakfast. "Good morning. This looks good."

"It tastes even better."

"What's the occasion?"

Sila pouted. "Do I really need an occasion to make food for the both of us?"

"Food this good calls for an occasion."

"Just say that you lack culinary skills."

"I'm not bad but this is plain show-off." He pointed toward the table Sila was setting. She smiled at that.

The silence proved to be the stimulus his mind needed to reel back to a few hours back. The normalcy in this kitchen would fool anyone but both of them knew what a disaster last night was.

Well, most of it.

Her question, his panic, and then the words that tumbled out of his mouth. Words she put a stop to, holding him by his face, caressing his skin with her fingers, and telling those words to him.

"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."

Words that cut him open but sewed him back as well. And then the touch, anchoring him, so much so that when she tried to get away, he felt scared.

Scared to let go. More scared than he was of letting her in on perhaps, the most vulnerable part of his life.

Her lips slightly touching his face and then her forehead on his.

It was several minutes, would've been days as well when Sila told him that they should go to bed. He obliged wordlessly.

From her side, the matter was over. She realized he wasn't comfortable with her question and she let it go.

He should've been relieved that she understood and didn't prod him. But what he felt was far from relief. It was unsettling, something he wanted to make right but didn't know how.

"Let's dig in."

She announced and sat down on the chair. Upon seeing him not making a move, she patted the chair next to her. "Come on! I have something to tell you."

"Sila—"

"I got a job offer."

She blurted out, cutting him. Aahil raised an eyebrow. "Really?" By then, he had taken his seat but breakfast was the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah. The email came in the evening. I was supposed to tell you but it slipped my mind."

That's one way to put it. He thought with another wave of unease hitting him but Sila's smile was the comfort he needed. "Tell me about it."

She bit on her toast and took a sip of her tea. "Are you aware of EFvent?"

"Who isn't, Sila?"

She grinned at that. "Well, yes. They contacted me. Can you believe it?" Saying that she pushed his plate toward him.

EFevent, was, perhaps some years back the biggest fish in the event planning and management industry of Pakistan. Founded by a USA Pakistani, Elma Faiq, the company flared successfully since its launch. But down the years, the founder's personal life took a hit when she went MIA due to her husband's cheating scandal. The company wasn't spared from the tension between the couple as the divorce proceedings furthered. EFvent couldn't keep up with an ever-competitive market and many small companies surpassed it, AJ was one of those.

But recently, it was circulating that Elma was very much interested in revamping something she built with her blood and sweat. She was recruiting brand new members and improving the structure of her core team.

"They have post openings and I applied even though I know EFvent's recruitment team is a monster. But they have called me for an interview."

"As they should've. They are serious about being on the top again, it seems."

Sila shrugged. "I haven't gotten the job yet."

"Modesty is nice but not when someone is as good as you, Sila. When's the interview?"

"Today. They are going through this process at a train speed."

"Then you need time to prepare for it." He stated the obvious as he relished the taste of the tea. Then his eyes darted around the kitchen space. She hadn't made a mess but there were used utensils that needed washing and the kitchen island could also do with the daily scrubbing.

"I'll take care of this." He informed her. Sila tried to refuse but then thought against it. Division of tasks makes a peaceful household.

"Do you have office today?"

She asked and he nodded distractedly. "Then you also need to get ready and leave."

"After I'm done with the cleaning."

A thoughtful look appeared on his face. Sila sensed what he was about to say. "Don't say we should call Asiya. I don't want her here."

"Why?"

Sila's annoyance was amusing to him. He leaned forward. "Did something happen while she was here the last time?"

Sila's face flushed. Yeah, she implied that you have kinks. "No, but she talks a lot."

"That's your issue with her?"

She got up, determined not to give him anything. That topic was closed for her. That embarrassment would stay for a while, though.

"Yes. Do you have a problem?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "You are the boss around here. You make the rules."

"That's what I thought."

Aahil followed her movements, also getting up but his eyes immediately found the closed door at the far end of the living space and he stiffened once again.

"I usually get the girls' opinion but help me choose an outfit, hun? Be a useful husband and—"

She was about to walk to their room when he held her hand. Sila looked at the hold and then at him. "What?"

He gulped. The silence wasn't going to help them. "About last night...I.."

She sighed. "I was trying to subtly tell you don't bring it up."

"But, Sila—"

"Aahil,"

She came a bit closer so that they were mere inches apart. "I meant it when I said I won't ask you anything about this again. Making you uncomfortable was never my intention but I didn't know it then. I do know, though. Whatever it is, it makes you uneasy so unless and until you are ready to talk about it, from my side, this matter is closed."

She pressed his hand in a comforting manner. "It's okay. I understand."

Was it? Maybe? But with her, it might be okay after all.

"So, shall we? You have an office to get to and I have an interview to prepare for." She pushed him toward their bedroom. "Too much work to do. Let's go!"

And Aahil obliged, with a slight smile on his face. But for a fleeting moment, his eyes again went toward the closed door and he sighed internally.

𝄞

When Alina came out of the guest room, Jodi had already set the table for breakfast. Osama was there, scrolling through his phone. Alina took in his freshly showered crisp look and then at her clothes from yesterday. In her haste to get away from her mother, she hadn't thought the plan through. She made up her mind to go straight to her place and get ready for work. She had to be at the sets and then in the evening, she had a fashion show to attend.

"Did you sleep well?"

Jodi asked, as soon as she served her breakfast. Alina nodded. "I did. Thank you for everything, Jodi."

"Ah! Don't fret. Osama doesn't get as many guests. Aahil and Mahad, all their trouble-making tendencies aside, were a respite from the silence in this house but for some time, even they haven't visited."

"Marriage did Aahil and this place's peace good."

Osama commented, without looking up from his phone. Jodi was in agreement with that while Alina could only chuckle lightly.

"God bless that child. He is a menace."

"Oh, come on, Jodi! He's not that bad. Remember when he tried to set you up with Michael?" Alina reminded her.

The older woman wasn't pleased to reminisce about that incident. "The worst date of my life."

"Michael was a tool. I always told Aahil and Mahad if anyone was worthy of Jodi's time, that'd be David. Jordyn and David, have a nice ring to it. Is he still around?"

Jodi's cheek reddened at that. She swatted Osama's arm. "All your decent habits aside, once in a while, you love to prove who your best friends are."

"Debatable," Alina muttered under her breath but it reached Osama loud and clear. He finally looked up from his phone. Alina held his gaze defiantly. At that moment, they forgot everything else, their baggage, the unsaid between them, and the years of pain. On both of their minds, was the childhood time they spent surrounded by their friends. Aahil, Mahad, Osama, Alina, the quartet that didn't know peace.

Alina's phone rang at the exact moment, breaking the spell. Both Alina and Osama's eyes went toward it. Hers widened with surprise. His flashed with annoyance.

Adeel calling.

Alina cut it hurriedly but the damage was done. Osama's face was taut and he was immersed in his phone as he was before but something had shifted.

Alina finished her breakfast and gathered her things. "I should get going."

Jodi, who had just come back with Osama's coffee, gave her a confused look. "Sit down, child. You haven't eaten anything properly."

"I did, Jodi. I really need to go."

She fumbled with her purse. Osama was eyeing her silently. "Bye. Thank you once again."

With that, she moved toward the door, calling an Uber all the way. She had just reached outside at the curb when she felt him close.

"Alina."

She closed her eyes, trying to muster up the courage she was left with. Slowly, she turned around.

"Osama."

He meant business. His body language confirmed it to her. "You didn't ask me why I was at your place in the middle of the night."

She hadn't. Last night was a blur in her mind. But now to think about it, his arrival should've surprised her, had she not been already distressed by the situation with her mother.

"Why were you?"

Osama folded his arms. "I need answers, Alina."

She held onto her purse for dear life. "You didn't even ask any questions."

"I didn't. But I'm doing it now. Why did you break up with me?"

Alina's grip loosened. She stumbled but Osama stood his ground. "I know you said you couldn't do it anymore but you didn't tell me why. Whenever I asked, you shut me out and then we had a thousand miles between us, different countries, different time zones. We moved with the pace of our lives, and we got settled into our professions but you never explicitly told me what drove you to take that decision."

"It...it's been years, Osama." Alina finally mustered the words. Osama found them far from convincing.

"Years are not enough, Alina. For some people, time settles everything. But I'm afraid we are not those people. I'm not. I thought your lack of being vocal about your reasons will stop hurting me with the passage of time but it didn't."

He took a step forward. The summer sun was harsh on them but Alina felt a chill down her spine.

"It's been years, you say. Then why couldn't I treat them like that? Why did years feel like months to me? Why my world stopped when you walked out of it? And why yours didn't?"

His eyes fell to her phone, clutched in her hands, the knuckles white, the circulation halted.

"Why can't I move on when you did? Maybe, that was your timing. But I'm tired of it, Alina. I'm tired of letting heartbreak define my course in life. A heartbreak that happened years back. Your silence didn't do right with me. If we had talked it out, maybe I would be able to handle it better. Maybe, the closure would've made it easy for me to find love in someone else. But you gave me nothing."

He shook his head, as if willing the accusations to stop. "So, I'm trying to solve this for myself and I need your help. I need the answers. Why did you give up on us? Why it was me who was discarded from your life when you keep every person you love, close? Even your parents."

He braced himself. She held her breath. "Why did you fall out of love with me?"

The purse slipped from Alina's numb fingers and so did her phone. Osama was quick to catch both but when he looked up, instead of finding her nervous, he saw something else in her eyes and stance.

"You think that I fell out of love with you?"

Osama straightened. Alina wiped her tears harshly as if she was angry at everything. Herself, him, the universe.

"Alina—"

She snatched her things from him and took a step back. "I was right then and I was right last night as well."

Her bloodshot eyes collided with his confused ones. "You really don't understand anything, Osama. You never do. You didn't, all those years back. You don't, even now."

With that, she turned to leave. Her ride was right at the beginning of the street. The last time, they parted ways, she stumbled out of his place while he stood there, silently watching her leave.

The tables had turned this time around.

"Alina!"

He called but she didn't stop.

𝄞

Contrary to regular recruitment procedure, in EFvent the founder and current CEO was present herself along with the hiring and HR managers. They conducted the interview rather precisely. It was Sila's luck that her usual dramatic self wouldn't manifest itself when she was out there to work. It also came in handy that her last workplace depended heavily on her, so, she had apt answers to every question thrown her way by the panel. The only time she paused before replying to a query was when they asked her why she left her previous job. The panel didn't, for once, mentioned the scandal or her link with Jahan. That was a good thing, she presumed.

Elma Faiq was in her late forties. She was not big on talking. Sila knew people like this were good observers and so far, she was silently regarding her.

"You were kind of the most vital employee for Ajwa, as I have heard."

Sila craned her neck in Elma's direction. "Yes, I ran all the major operations."

The question or the statement was off the tangent but it wasn't surprising for Sila. When she joined AJ, EFvent was a big thing in the circuit. Ajwa always wanted to surpass Elma and her team, taking AJ higher than EFvent. It never quite came to be but Elma and her husband Shahzad's feud ended the winning streak. EFvent fell behind the race and AJ took over.

Elma was, obviously aware of Ajwa's competitive feelings toward her company. In the corporate world things spread fast. If she had called Sila keeping Ajwa in mind, that was alright. No job is permanent and no employer warrants unflinching loyalty, especially when you are no longer working under them. But some people have work ethics and Sila was one of those. She'd never snitch on Ajwa's work structure unnecessarily and she hoped Elma wouldn't even expect her to.

"Do you know, before going MIA, what EFvent's strength was?"

"Corporate events."

"Right. But since we are rebranding, Sila my planning team wants to play safe. Starting with our strengths. What do you suggest? Is that a good strategy to go by?"

Sila gave it a thought. "No."

Elma raised an eyebrow. "No? Can you elaborate on that?"

"You can go on with planning and managing corporate events but that will only give you your lost glory back. It's resuming what you left off, not revamping or rebranding. Are you opting for a niche clientele?"

Elma didn't blink. "I'm planning for making this company what I envisioned for it, the best in the market overall."

"Then get experimental. Do corporate but along with that, do festivals, concerts, hybrid, seminars, and exhibitions. Start modest. Just one or two events on the long itinerary of corporate sophisticated gatherings. And then expand."

For the first time, Elma's lips upturned into a smile. Her team glanced at her when Elma leaned forward in her seat. "You'll do that for us. All the events you've just listed, you will be managing them with your team."

"If," Sila matched her tone. "I'm paid accordingly."

A man from the panel cleared his throat. "You will be called again for that in a day or two. To settle the paperwork and the amount of salary. You will also meet some other executives."

Phase one: Success.

Sila thought with a heady feeling as she looked at the panel ahead of her.

𝄞

"You're kidding right?"

Maniza's remorseful gaze was the confirmation enough but Haleh still wanted it to be a joke.

"I'm sorry, Haleh." Her senior's face showed how uneasy she was, and sorry as well.

"But you know I can't write for the Kid's section! Do I look like a fairytale writer to him?"

"He said it is what it is. Otherwise..."

Haleh's eyes blazed. "Otherwise?"

"You can see yourself out of the door."

Mr. Abidi's voice came from the door. Both of them turned around to look at him. Maniza quivered behind her monitor while Haleh glared at him with visceral hate.

Aun Peerzada couldn't do much that day but as soon as he left their office, he started pulling his contacts and the result was in front of Haleh. From the most reader-favorite section of their magazine, she was demoted to the one not even its target audience bothered to skim through, the kid's tales. What century was this again? It's Tiktok and Cocomelon generation for fucks's sake!

She picked up her stuff and whipped around. Her hand-painted tote broke her heart once again. If only she had the proper resources to live her passion, she wouldn't be hustling through here.

But she immediately toughened up. She wouldn't give this toad-faced Ullu ka pattha the satisfaction. Hope your dinner refuses to stay in your stomach, Mr. Abidi. And you spend your night seeing your reflection in the toilet.

Reaching his side, she opened the door and hissed loud and clear. "Guess I just did. When you're done kissing Aun Peerzada's Chelsea boots, do remind yourself you have a magazine to run. I'll see how singing praises for that corrupt mafia benefits you."

With that, she made her dramatic exit, you know as they do in the movies. Her hair swayed behind her, out of the confines of the clip, as she left this shitty job.

Only she wanted to cry sitting on the footpath.

Half an hour later, she didn't grace any sidewalk with her waterworks. Food was her comfort and she needed her favorite lemon shake to feel even a tiny bit better. So here she was.

"You haven't touched your shake, Haleh." Imran's voice brought her out of her thoughts. She looked at him and then at the tangy goodness in front of her. Pouting, she took a sip. The taste didn't hit as it was supposed to.

"Come on. You should be happy you got rid of a toxic workplace."

"I loved it there, Imran. That's the whole point."

And she did. Getting into magazine writing wasn't her idea of a career choice but art school was expensive and even though Baba Jaan had told her he'd get her enrolled into any institution of her liking, Haleh would never mooch off his money. So, keeping painting as a hobby, she opted for IR, and after her first semester, her interest developed. It remained the same till her graduation and then she landed this job. Life seemed set on track.

Until that swine, Aun Peerzada happened.

"I wish I could claw his face off."

Imran was confused. "Mr. Abidi's?"

"Nah! Aur Pee-rzada's. Filthy entitled rich asshole. As long as these nepo babies are among us, we are doomed."

"That's the ending note of your article."

Haleh perked up. "Did you read it?"

Before he could provide her with an answer, Haleh's face fell. "Probably my last article."

"God forbid, Haleh. You're acting as if the world has ended."

"Mine has."

Imran scowled. "I'm surprised why you haven't reached his office to protest."

"Are you insane? He took my job and you want him to take my life as well."

"I'll come with you."

"And make him a pot of soup? I think not."

He grumbled. Haleh patted his arm. "I know. This ordeal has taught me one thing. Don't take up the battles you can't even fight, winning those is a far cry. Aun Peerzada thinks he's invincible and why shouldn't he? The system and people from his own class will bend over backward to support him. Like Mahad Lashari was there with him the other day. 

He never once took the guy's side, Haleh. The reasonable voice in her mind stated, once again. But he's friends with him! That'd be the irrational one. Business partners! Again, the sane voice. And that makes it right? Does he even know what his bUsIness POTTYner is up to? Getting innocent, law-abiding citizens fired from their jobs? Does he? Or he needed to be told? Your company might not define you but it can always come back to kick you where the sun doesn't shine! The irrational voice was irrationally angry. HEY! You're directing your anger for Aun at someone who doesn't deserve it! The sane voice tried her best. I don't fucking care. Mahad Lashari, you better hide in your well-furnished office space because I'm going to find you now! The irrational voice conceded. The rational one? Well, she fell back on her bed and took a long sigh.

"You know what? I think I should get going."

That confused Imran. "You just said you didn't want to go home anytime soon."

"Changed my mind. I need to sleep this disappointment and anger off. Thank you for the shake!" She took out the money from her purse when Imran stopped her.

"It's on the house."

Haleh chuckled. "Imran, if you keep on pushing everything I buy from here on the house, soon you'll be joining me in the jobless club."

"I won't." His secret smile would've been cute had it not been a bit mysterious. Haleh pulled her money back. "Okay, then. See you around."

She waved at him and was soon out of the restaurant.

Me: Send me the address of Mahad's office.

Dulha Bhai: What?

Me: Read the message ffs! I'm not writing all that again. My mobile balance is already low.

Dulha Bhai: Did you drink a fire shake for breakfast?

Me: THE ADDRESS!

Dulha Bhai: That depends, are you going to kill him?

Me: Close

Dulha Bhai: Perfect. Here we go.

Getting to the Lashari main office was easy after that. The guards also let her in but the real problem started when she reached the reception.

"But I have to meet Mr. Lashari. It's urgent!"

The woman didn't look even close to caving. "Madam, we've checked. You don't have an appointment."

Fucking protocol. She swore under her breath. "What do you people do when someone doesn't have one?"

"We let the matter be decided by Sir. He's not thrilled by the unannounced arrivals, though."

"Not even when the person is his girlfriend?"

The receptionist's face fell. The woman sitting on the chair next to her also looked up.

"His...a what?"

Haleh flashed her a confident smile. "Girlfriend, honey."

"He doesn't have one!"

"He does now."

The receptionist eyed her suspiciously. "Then why doesn't he know you are here?"

Haleh's smile took an evil turn. "You can do the honors. Tell him I'm here. Go on."

On the top floor, in his office, Mahad was busy reading a file when his phone pinged.

Aahil: Try something with my Saali, and you're dead meat, Lashari.

Me: What the fuck?

Aahil: You heard me. Zip it.

What the hell was going on here? He was about to call Aahil to know what was his problem when the reception desk rang him.

"Sir, there's a woman here to see you."

He turned back to the file. "Does she has an appointment?"

"No, sir."

"You know what to do, Miss. Rida."

"I know sir, but she says...she says she's your girlfriend."

The file fell from his hand. "My what?"

His shock gave Rida some consolation. She looked at Haleh with concealed triumph on being somewhat right.

"Tell him my name. Haleh." Haleh challenged her and Rida did so as she was told, more than ready to prove her wrong once again.

"She says her name is Haleh."

There was silence on the other side for a second and then a defeated sigh. " Send her up, Rida."

The receiver almost slipped from Rida's hand. Haleh pulled her tote back on her shoulder and made her way to the elevator as the other woman muttered the floor number to her.

"This means..."

Rida hesitated once Haleh was out of sight. Her colleague went back to work. "You heard him, Rida. She's indeed his girlfriend."

"He didn't confirm it!"

"He didn't deny it either."

When she came out of the elevator on the said floor, she didn't have to look around to spot his cabin. He was standing outside of it with his arms akimbo. Haleh's scowl also reappeared.

"Do you have any idea what you just pulled off?"

He seethed as soon as he closed the door behind them. Haleh faced him, equally frustrated. "I did what I had to do!"

"By now my whole staff will be wondering if you're actually my girlfriend."

"What they must be wondering is how a Lallu like you ended up with someone like me."

Mahad looked at her from head to toe. Wide-leg jeans with an elephant-printed shirt and a tote. Hair half in her clip and the rest falling behind on her back and a scowl set on her face.

Cute.

But then a very recent threat came to his mind and he straightened. "Why are you here? The last time I checked, you didn't even want to hear from me."

"I still don't! I'm just here to tell you what your friend has done to me!"

"What friend?"

"Aun fucking Ulla ka Patha Peerzada!"

"Don't swear! And we've been through this, Haleh! He's not my friend. A business partner."

"Your business partner got me fired!"

That stumped him.

His shock deflated her. "You didn't know right?"

He shook his head. Her shoulders slumped. "Mr. Abidi demoted me. From current & international affairs and pop culture to the kid's section. Do I look like I'm built for that?"

He eyed the elephants on her shirt. She raised her finger at him. "Elephants are cute!"

"They surely are. You should sit down and let me know what exactly happened."

"Isn't it self-explanatory?" She pointed toward herself. "I don't have a job as of now. Do you have any idea about the fare to my office, ex-office to yours?"

"Haleh—"

"It's a lot. That job wasn't already paying me enough." She dropped herself on the chair of his work table. Mahad reached her side with concern shining on his face.

"It's fucking hard, putting yourself out there. The same drill once again. Should've opted for art but art school cost a kidney and more. Rich folks really think the world runs on their whims."

She suddenly threw her hand to put emphasis on her point but her hand collided with the glass of water and before she could do the damage control, Mahad's file had been run down by a river.

She covered her mouth in utter mortification and faced him. His face was devoid of any anger. He silently took the glass from her hand and sat down on the chair next to her.

"Are you done venting?"

"Almost."

"Okay. Now listen to me clearly. You will get your job back."

"How?"

"Leave that to me. I can't give you the exact duration but I will try my best to pull some strings."

"Rich folks thing?"

"Something like that. Secondly, I have a proposition for you."

"Is this where you ask me to be your fake wife?"

"Now where the hell is it coming from?"

She made a face. "Amal's bookshelf."

"Stay away from that stuff. Geez, Amal needs a new hobby. As I was saying, I want you do to something for me and I'll pay you for it."

"What exactly?"

"A painting."

Haleh immediately understood what he was trying to do. "I'm not a charity case. Just because I got carried away and vented about my financial crises to you—"

Mahad didn't let her complete. "I never said that. Think of it as your new commissioned assignment."

"What kind of painting do you want?"

"I'm not well-versed in the art."

Haleh snorted. "I've noticed."

"Yeah, so paint me anything you want. Show me your best but please, no abstract art. Something more easily understood."

"I'll do a landscape one for you, is that okay?"

"Perfect, actually. How long will it take?"

"I'll try to be quick but it can take more than a month."

"Understandable. Do you have the supplies?"

Haleh pushed his hand away. "AGAIN! I'm no charity case, Mr. CEO."

"I'm just making sure something I'm going to pay you for is worth my money."

"It will be. That I can assure you of."

She stood up. He also followed suit. "My driver will drop you home."

"Now this is too—"

"I insist. I don't want to haggle with a bellowing Dulha Bhai."

"Awww! You're afraid of him? He's the best!"

Mahad warned with his finger raised. "Keep him out of our deal."

Haleh grinned at that. "His misgivings aren't that farfetched. I mean look at you."

"Just a while back, I was a lallu."

She bit her tongue. "I did say I got carried away didn't I?"

"Tell me about it."

Mahad grumbled but a smile still escaped his lips. Haleh looked away from him. She was meant to lash on him but here he was, standing proud after taking care of all her worries.

That came out of the syllabus.

𝄞

He was distracted at the office. Not that he was already the best at it but it must be evident enough that Faran asked him to go home and call it a day.

So, he made his way to the parking lot, lost in his phone when he found a familiar car at some distance.

A smile reached his lips.

Sila beckoned him toward her. He stopped close. "Do we have an occasion now?

She grinned. "I think we do. Be my passenger princess. We are going out, hon."

With that, she opened the door for him. Aahil sat inside without even a glance at his own car.

"Where to?"

"My treat. Your favorite place."

Aahil's grin matched hers. "Sounds like a plan."

𝄞

Delli's was the same as it was when they last visited. The evening glow was mingling with the night's calm and on the shoreline, the fusion was more beautiful.

Almost everything was the same. The atmosphere inside the cafe, the clientele, the delicious food, and Shaarif's music.

Sila had found the young man quite talented the last time but tonight, she was seeing him in a new light.

He hinted at learning from the best.

It was no rocket science who that best was. Sila saw the silent exchange between them when he was about to sing. She rested her chin on her palm and kept on looking at him.

"What?" He asked mimicking her movements but she didn't say a word. They had talked a lot on their way here. She narrated her whole interview to him and he grumbled about his day.

The comfortable silence was with them as they left the restaurant. Aahil was about to get inside the car when Sila held his hand. He stopped and looked at her.

The night glow and the salty breeze. Them and the unsaid between.

Her fingers slowly intertwined with his. "So, this teacher Shaarif talks so highly about, any chance he's my husband?"

She waited patiently. It wasn't an invasive question. She knew he lived and breathed music at one point in his life. She had already figured it out and was just making sure her assumption was correct.

Aahil held her hand back. "Yes."

And the smile that she gave him after that, was worth everything. Every pain was meaningless when it came to it. Every ordeal was worth it.

The headlights of a car broke the spell. They still didn't take their eyes off each other.

"Oye!"

One person shouted when the other rebuked him. "Let them be. Looks like Miyan Biwi."

They didn't know who laughed first. They just knew standing close to Delli's, hand in hand, they were in hysterics.

𝄞

Back home, she was in the bedroom, attending a video call with the girls. It lasted more than half an hour and when it ended, she came out into the lounge, looking for Aahil.

She didn't find him anywhere but what she did find, made her do a double take.

The door to that door was ajar. The light inside was on.

Did he?

Really?

Shock morphed into elation that showed on her face.

The elation turned into a grin when she felt arms around her from behind. He softly rested his chin on her shoulder. A slow number was playing on his turntable.

"What do you think about slow dancing?"

"I think we are already doing it."

She pointed out the way they were slowly swaying with the music. Aahil turned her around and she wound her arms around his neck as their rhythm continued.

"The door is unlocked." Sila finally said.

"It should have always been." He told her as she twirled in his arms and came right back.

"You don't have—"

"I know. I don't have to. But sometimes it's not about that, Sila. Sometimes you have to take some steps to better understand your own inhibition."

"So, did you?" She played with his shirt's button. They had stopped moving. But the music was on. So had they really?

He smiled and bent his head. His lips gently touched her forehead making her close her eyes.

"I did. Whatever they are, they can be worked out. Slowly but definitely."

There it was. Him. As she knew him. As he was. Not perfect but willing to do at least something about that was wrong.

And wrong it was, so much. In his life, in his past.

But it was probably his first step toward not letting that pain affect his life.

And her. Most importantly, her.

That was on his mind when she melted into his arms. That was also his last thought before he drifted off to sleep with her in his arms.

Pain and suffering. Yes.

But for her, he'd try his best.

Some thing he had never done before.

𝄞

Author's Note

-This chapter was longer in the drafts but I had to make a few cuts otherwise, it would never be possible to post it tonight.

-The updating schedule is not as it used to be, as you must've noticed. And it's going to be more haphazard. I have other commitments and some of those demand my undue attention. So, if there's a delay in my usual updating schedule, I'm already aware of it. Please don't ask me for updates again and again. I'm usually stuck with my academic work and when I'm not, I'm writing.

-It's practically impossible to have all the couples in a single chapter and give them the same attention. So, as I always do, apart from the mains (Sila Aahil) the rest will be explored according to the space I have. Some of them will be present in some chapters, some in others. If you don't see your fav couple in an update, be assured that the writer knows that and will accommodate them in the next one.