When Mahad stopped his car in the parking lot of Aahil and Sila's building, his eyes fell on another vehicle close by. He settled his shades as he watched Amal, Rameen, and Haleh engage in what was like their standard crisis response.

"You had one job, Haleh," Rameen exclaimed making Haleh throw her hands in exasperation. "Really Reen? It's Sila for fuck's sake. She won't mind."

"Doesn't mean you can't put in an effort. Sila deserves that after what she's gone through."

"I've been up since the crack of dawn. Give me a freaking break."

"You know what?" Amal interjected, her face weary. "If you two can't behave, I'm just going to leave you here. Stop giving the elites a show. That dude in the car next to us has been enjoying your public display of adversary for a while now."

At that, both Rameen and Haleh whipped their head in the said direction and the said dude, one Lashari pretended that his console was the most interesting thing he'd ever laid his eyes on.

"It's him." Haleh declared as if that was a bad omen and made a face. Mahad narrowed his eyes and for emphasis, took off his shades as well. "Yes, me. And just for the record, I wasn't enjoying your show."

"You were invested, though." Amal challenged.

"You three were arguing right in front of me. Sue me for just looking."

"Oh, I bet you were looking." Rameen's words could be taken in any context but the majority of the people present knew what context she'd meant.

"Perfect. As if I wasn't already in trouble but now we have more audience to see my mess-up." Haleh cried. Yeah, not a part of the majority, as expected.

"It's not so bad." Amal the best friend.

"It is." Rameen glared at Amal.

"What it actually is?" Mahad, the new addition to the audience.

Haleh looked at him and then sighed with a scowl set on her face. "I ruined the carrot cake. It's now carrot rusk."

"Carrot brick is the right word," Rameen informed him. Haleh was ready to charge. "Reen, can you, for world peace, shut up for the time being? Say, till we reach Sila's apartment? I don't want witnesses for what I intend to do with your sorry excuse of a life!"

"I can always help you hide the body," Amal assured her, earning an incredulous look from Mahad. She just shrugged in response. The usual. The normal.

"Rusk or brick, it's nothing a piping hot cup of tea can't soften and as far as my meager knowledge goes, Sila isn't averse to tea. So, what's the issue here?"

There was a short pause in which Amal and Rameen glared at him and for the first time, in what seemed like an eternity, Haleh regarded him as a fellow human who deserved her undivided attention. Good day for Mahad.

"You, you're the problem. It was going good but you just wrecked it." Amal left her place and walked away. Rameen followed suit. Haleh lingered, glaring at her friends. Then she turned to him.

"Umm, do you want one? It tastes just the same." She offered.

The conflict on Mahad's face made both Amal and Rameen smirk. "Not so sure now, the art connoisseur CEO?"

Haleh's scowl was back. She swiftly walked ahead to join Amal and Rameen.

"What brings you here, by the way?" Rameen asked as they entered the elevator together.

"I wanted to see how Sila's doing and also I have some work with Aahil," Mahad answered her query distractedly. His eyes were fixed on Haleh who was back to pretending he wasn't even present there.

Amal inconspicuously shifted so that Mahad was right next to Haleh. He leaned down so Haleh could hear him. "I won't mind—"

"But I do."

Mahad looked gutted. "What do you exactly mind?"

Haleh's visage was of a heartless princess. "Your existence."

"Harsh." Amal drawled and Rameen hid her smile. Mahad shut up for good, but not before pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at Haleh. Did she care? Mahad wished.

𝄞

The first proper touch always comes in slow motion. As if marking a territory, committing the trails to the mind, to never forget.

The second touch, it opens the floodgates and that's where the poetics end and instincts take control.

They broke apart, breathing and all that necessities, and then, they got right back to it, intensity? Skyrocketed. Urgency? Not so much (they weren't going anywhere, duh!), and need? Very much.

Again.

And again.

His hands traveled up her waist and hers were now entangled in the hair at his nape. The lips moved in perfect sync. They never knew when she leaned against the wall, how many times they broke apart and dived right back in, or when his lips ventured to her neck.

The distant sound and Sila's eyes flew open.

"Is that our intercom?" She inquired aloud and when her question wasn't answered, she made him look at her. He was not pleased with the interruption.

"We don't have an intercom."

"Be serious."

"I was being very serious with my task."

"We have guests coming."

"They can come tomorrow."

Sila dismissed him, already out of the kitchen. He followed suit, with a scowl set on his face, of course.

Once in the living area, Sila checked both her phone and the intercom. Before she could brief him about the incoming, the doorbell rang.

He huffed and proceeded to open the door.

"You made us wait!"

Haleh complained as she pushed him aside. Aahil matched her energy. Amal and Rameen were the next.

"I hope we didn't interrupt something." Rameen looked between him and Sila. Sila saw him ready to retort and that was never a good idea. She knew it was time to interject. "No! We were just having tea."

"Clearly," Amal muttered. Mahad made a face and as the girls got inside, settled Aahil's shirt front. "Congratulations, I guess." He whispered mockingly. A devilish grin broke out on Aahil's face. Mahad wanted to get the hell out right there.

"Auntie Banu and Saleema Baji will visit in the evening," Rameen said as she settled herself on the couch. Sila shook her head. "Guys, seriously. There's no need. I'm fine now."

"Tell that to Ammi, Banu Auntie, and Saleema Baji. How did you stop Ammi from boarding the next flight, though?"

Sila pointed at Aahil. "He did."

He sat next to her and shrugged. "She's a sweetheart but a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be. Took me and Muaz an hour to make her understand that Sila was perfectly alright and there was no need for an urgent trip to Karachi."

"I just love her!" Haleh exclaimed with gentle fondness shining on her face. Mahad glanced at her but as soon as she saw him looking, her brows furrowed.

"Did you guys bring the carrot cake?"

Sila's question invoked an exchange of looks and stifling of laughter.

"We didn't bring any. I'll send some with Banu Auntie and Saleema Baji in the evening." Haleh said, pushing the plastic bag out of Sila's sight.

"What she actually wants to say is, we did bring something but it can't be called a cake." Rameen thought it important to let Sila know.

Haleh wanted to smack the container inside the bag on Rameen's head but they weren't in the confines of Wadia House otherwise, Rameen wouldn't be sitting there with that shit-eating grin.

"She overbaked it. I don't know how she did it but it's hard as a brick."

Haleh looked at her girl gang, Dulha Bhai, and that Lallu and she wanted to bolt then and there. "The one time I mess up and the whole city gets to know it. I fucking hate it here."

"It can't be that bad." Aahil took the bag from her hand which she gave him reluctantly. He opened the plastic container and looked inside.

"Smells good to me. Totally edible." He then extended the box to his eager wife who had specially asked for this treat from her friends.

"It will work just fine with tea." Sila gave her verdict and then proceeded to give Haleh a thumbs-up.

"That's what I said." Mahad found it imperative to add. That was another thing that it did nothing to warrant a warm gesture from Haleh. Her gaze remained cold at him.

"Then we all need tea. You two included." Rameen rose from her seat and gave Aahil and Sila a knowing look. Sila bit the inside of her cheek while Aahil wouldn't be Aahil if he looked fazed.

"Mahad you are also a tea person, right?"

His answer was in affirmation. Rameen walked to the kitchen area and started with the tea. Aahil got up to help her but she gestured for him not to. He shrugged but proceeded to take the cake out on a plate. Sila, Amal, and Haleh were busy sharing the details of the past few hours with Rameen adding her bits in between. They engaged Mahad and Aahil in the conversation as well.

Aahil's phone pinged. He checked the text and turned to Sila. "Danish is asking about you. Said he didn't want to disturb so reached out to me instead."

Sila smiled genially. "I told him I'm fine. Honestly—"

"Hold up!" Haleh interrupted and gave an incredulous look to Aahil. "You are friends with Danish?"

Aahil leaned against the kitchen wall in a laid-back manner. "I won't say, friends. That's a bit of a stretch but we're civil."

"But!"

Amal and Haleh exchanged a look and said in unison. "He's so boring!"

"He is not!"

Another united chorus: Sila, Aahil, and Rameen.

Mahad raised an eyebrow as he took in the direction the conversation had steered into as he took the tray from Rameen's hand. "Isn't he the same guy who was here when Sam and I showed up the other day?"

"The very one."

Mahad picked up his teacup and a piece of the cake. He took a bite. Haleh was right. It wasn't bad. Not at all. But she wasn't attentive toward him.

"Seemed like a stand-up fella to me."

Amal snorted. "Of course. It seems like only Haleh and I are on the same page while everyone else is suddenly team Danish."

"Always told you guys he isn't so bad." Sila devoured her cake and gave Amal and Haleh a knowing look.

"Whatever. I'm still worried about his future significant other's orgasms."

As usual, it was supposed to be a whisper but of course, it was anything but. Sensing the silence around, Haleh glanced around and made a face. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Yes!" The affirmation was the loudest from Mahad and Sila. Aahil chuckled and got up. "Me and Mahad are going to let you girls be. We have an errand to run."

"Is it something illegal?" Amal inquired, narrowing her eyes. Aahil was already halfway toward his and Sila's room. He turned around and just shrugged. That did nothing to quell Amal's suspicion.

"Why would you think that?" Mahad asked.

"You two running an errand together? Nah, that shit is shady."

Mahad's reply was the same, a shrug of his shoulders. With a thoughtful expression, Sila rose up from her seat mumbling an excuse, and made her way toward their room.

Rameen and Amal got back to their previous tasks and Haleh took out her phone and scrolled through her Instagram when she felt the seat next to her being occupied. She made a face but didn't peer her eyes away from the screen.

"How far you—"

"Six months and you're the father."

Mahad closed his eyes in instant regret. "I was asking about my painting. Stop talking gibberish."

"Then stop talking business with me. I don't mix my professional and personal life."

"You're being unreasonably rude to me."

"And you're trying to find an excuse to talk to me."

Her stance was challenging as if daring him to deny it. Mahad pursed his lips and taking the piece of cake from her plate, leaned into the couch, munching on it with nothing but frustration on his face. Haleh grinned and turned back to her phone. Her two best friends noted the interaction with interest but she was too immersed in Henry Cavill's edits to notice.

Back in Sila and Aahil's room, Sila perched on the corner of their bed and saw him getting ready.

"What kind of errand is this?"

"I'm not going to murder someone if that's what you're worried about." He brushed his hair and looked at her through the mirror. Unconvinced, Sila got up and reached his side, turning him to face her.

"Don't do anything stupid."

She warned, buttoning his shirt. He cupped the back of her head and as his fingers made contact with the tender area, she slightly flinched. His eyes darkened. "Yeah, it won't be stupid. Totally worth the hassle."

"Aahil, you don't—"

"Sila."

He raised her chin, eyes sweeping toward her mouth. "I know what I'm doing and trust me, it is important."

With that, he bent down and took her awaiting mouth in a gentle kiss, different from whatever happened in the kitchen but still, enough for her to feel lightheaded.

"Damn, I can get used to this. I really can."

Sila laughed at his words, but whom was she kidding? She could also get used to this.

𝄞

Fiddling with her shirt sleeve, Alina gave a nervous glance around at the interior of the coffeehouse. She hadn't been to Kepoch much, just once or twice but the new piece of knowledge she had recently discovered was that Osama loved the place, his favorite in the city.

She didn't know that.

When they were together, his favorite hangout place was in old Clifton. Alina knew the restaurant was still running, but Osama's aversion to visiting also made sense.

It was the parking lot of that place where they broke up.

You broke up with him, a voice corrected in her mind. Alina shifted into her seat. Sila's situation had kept them all occupied for a day or two. Osama was at Alina's place when they got to know and the first thing they did was rush to see if Sila was doing okay and to be with Aahil in such circumstances.

Thankfully, Sila was perfectly alright now which also meant that everything put on halt was going to get resumed. Which also included this inevitable conversation.

Osama had texted her the address, asking her to meet him here, and even though, the fear and hesitation were still intact, she obliged.

She had been sitting here for twenty minutes now. Osama was late, in stark contrast to his repertoire of manners. The old Alina would've blasted at him for making her wait but the old Alina wasn't plagued with regrets so it really didn't matter.

To distract her troubled thoughts, she glanced around. The rush hours hadn't rolled in yet so the ambience was peaceful at best. Alina tapped the table as she took in the general atmosphere of the place.

Nothing out of the ordinary but soon her eyes caught the sight of something that put a smile on her face.

It was the table not too far from her, close to the window, occupied by a man but that's not what caught her attention, it was a small bundle of white and yellow in his arms. The baby was wide awake, taking in everything with her big eyes and when her inspection of her surrounding stopped right at him, her small mouth broke into a toothless grin.

A daughter-father duo. Alina could bet her money on it. And the cutest she'd ever witnessed. The man flicked the baby's nose, talking to her in hushed whispers and that made her giggle some more. He planted a kiss on her cheek and continued with his important discussion and it seemed like she understood every word, her range of expressions vouched for it.

A woman stopped close to their table and Alina giggled at the way both father and daughter looked at her, with identical smiles and something akin to awe on their faces.

"I was worried you two would get bored waiting for me but now I feel left out." She complained but the content smile could fool no one. She was the happiest at that moment. The daughter flailed her arms so that she'd be picked up. The woman did so without wasting a moment. "Now you need Mama? Traitor."

She planted a kiss on her daughter's other cheek and then settled her clothes. Her husband got up, shaking his head at her. "She ruined the dress you took out for her so I had to improvise."

"You're getting better at it. Though, I wouldn't have paired these socks with the whole look and—"

"Safwa!" He almost pleaded. She looked at her daughter and both grinned. "Yeah, okay. Let's make the most of Baba's day off. We are going to turn him broke at the end of the day."

The baby, just a few months old, Alina could tell, was in agreement. The man didn't even protest once, as if, the prospect was the most acceptable to him.

And just like that, the beautiful family was out of there.

And maybe, it was just a sign, a few moments after they left, Osama entered and instantly, his eyes sought Alina out.

"Shit, I'm almost half an hour late." He said as soon as he took the seat in front of her.

"That's alright."

He settled his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not. I was the one to decide a time and place. The least I could do was not be tardy."

"It's the last day of shoot tomorrow, isn't it? That explains it all so don't fret."

Osama's face suddenly became inscrutable. "The shoot, yeah and I also had to have a word with Rimsha."

Alina closed her eyes momentarily. Osama was a mild-tempered person. But one thing he never took lightly was something fucking with his boundaries and Rimsha had done that twice by then. First, by trying to insert herself in his life and then by misbehaving with Alina just because she saw her and Osama together.

"She's going to think I turned you against her but to be honest, I was tired of this whole fiasco. Nothing I said or did was going to make a difference because at the end of the day, for her, I'll always be the bad guy, someone who came between her idea of her and you."

Osama was relieved that she termed it as Rimsha's idea, not his reality because in no way, he had encouraged her to think they had something going. Rimsha's delusion was not his or Alina's responsibility, not when Alina had done nothing to sabotage Rimsha's 'chance' with Osama and not when Osama hadn't given Rimsha any such idea that there was a 'chance'.

"Zeb Auntie—" Alina started meekly but Osama cut her before she could voice out her concern. "Mama will understand my situation. She always does."

That she would. Alina was certain. No matter how much she liked Osama and Rimsha together if Osama didn't want to pursue this further, she'd never force her choice on him. That's what Osama's parents had always been about.

The silence stretched between them after that. They ordered, and realized, with both relief and a touch of pain that their usual coffee preferences hadn't vanished from each other's memories.

"It's a nice place," Alina said, taking a sip of her coffee. Osama looked around with appreciation on his face. "My mum discovered it and took me here a lot. She has a nice rapport with the owner, Safwa Kirmani. Over my frequent visits, I've also formed a kind of friendship with her and her husband, Dr. Izaan. Ran into them in the parking lot just now."

Alina was pleasantly surprised. "That cute family?" Osama nodded, with a smile.

It was after a while that Osama placed his cup down and regarded her.

"Do you still go to 3-C?" He asked casually but nothing about that question was casual.

Chester-Coffee-Clifton, commonly known as 3-C was the restaurant. It was their favorite hangout spot when they were young but now, it only remained as a hallmark of what was lost and never found again.

"I haven't been there since..." Alina whispered. Her coffee had lost all its meaning even though it was her favorite. It had turned bitter but coffee, by nature, is bitter. But the acrid taste was of something else. Harsh reminders and painful memories, the metallic tinge, burning like acid on her tongue.

"Old Chester is as sprightly as ever. I met him once and he complained that I don't visit his cafe anymore. I told him I would but haven't followed up on it till now."

Osama's casual approach stung more than his accusations. She looked up from her cup. "Stop."

He did. As if he was also tired.

"This isn't why we're here."

"And I told you we'll talk but on your terms. I'm not going to push you into it, Alina. Not when I gave you my word."

"I wouldn't have come here if I was that unsure. I knew the stakes, Osama."

He leaned forward. "Then, what's stopping you?"

And suddenly, the table between them wasn't wood, it was water, as vast as the sea. Her shore was submerged, his was dry and peaceful. He was in for the answers, and she was fighting with her inner demons to get a word out. He was being nice, but the accusation in his eyes was clear as the sky.

All the more reasons to let him know that she didn't ruin everything. She tried to save it, but she was shitty at the job.

"Your Harvard acceptance letter." Her reflection on the surface of the coffee was muddy, and so was her story. "It was a week late and all those days you were sick with worry that you wouldn't get in."

Osama hadn't uttered a word but he was confused. What Harvard had got—

Alina looked up, right into his eyes. "Every single second of that whole week, I prayed and wished, desperately, that your fear get proven right. That... that letter would never come. That you'd never go."

Osama's shock was etched on his face. Alina smiled sardonically. "Yeah. The boyfriend, the one who professed time and again his love for her, went out of his way to protect her from her own parents, who had eyes just for her. But his girlfriend was plagued with jealousy, so much so that she wished that he wouldn't get the one thing she'd always known he'd wanted the most."

She dropped her head in her palms. "Do you hear me? I was jealous of you. I hated the stability in your life. And then the next moment, I hated myself the most for feeling this way. So much that I wanted to die on the spot."

She tried to compose herself, the usual picture of sophistication was punctuated by the incongruity of her thoughts. The curtain bangs and the hair in layers was not as sleek as usual.

"On your 18th birthday, which was also a celebration for your new life at Harvard, you were inside surrounded by the people who were excited for you, happy about your achievements, and looking forward to your steller career but your eyes were in search of just one person, your girlfriend. Do you know where she was at that time?"

She answered her question without waiting for him. "Outside on the lawn, sitting there on the fountain basin, looking at her reflection in the water, wallowing in her misery and jealousy, not at all happy for you."

A tear rolled down her cheeks. Osama immediately extended his hand but she flinched hers away. "Alina..."

"Let me finish. I might not get this courage again. There were two states inside me at that time. On one hand, I was filled with envy and jealousy, and on the other hand...I was...I was still in love with you, Osama. And that love was overpowering. That made me hate myself. I used to look in the mirror and just see a loser. Who loves someone but also is not happy to see them thrive? I was that much of a low-life. And then came the biggest reason for my conflicted emotions. My parents, old fucking story."

She traced an invisible line on the table as if trying to find a loose thread that would link her up to her past mistakes and she'd be able to make it all right. "My choices had always been their fodder for criticism but somehow, me and you, we were well-accepted by them, my parents. They encouraged me, for the first time in my life, might I add, and that was to stick with you. Don't think of anything else but just you and my modeling career."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "My mother even gave me the talk. Can you believe it? Even though she knew there was nothing physical in our sweet relationship. She wanted us to work one way or the other, Osama. Did you figure out why?"

He had but he wasn't going to say this to her face.

But Alina had no such reservations. "You were their idea of financial and social security for their daughter. They didn't see you, they saw your family's generational wealth and their famous surname. It wasn't about you or me, the love we shared, my feelings toward you, no. It was about what you brought to the table. They'd be as supportive if I were dating Aahil or Mahad because all three of you had what they considered made a perfect guy for their precious daughter."

For the first time, a scowl appeared on Osama's face. It hadn't been there when she outright told him she was jealous of his life but the moment, she mentioned her parents, his anger and frustration were there for everyone to see.

"Not just them, every other person enunciated the same to me. Some were subtle about it, others? Not so much. Every person in our circle looked at us as a mismatch. Osama, the golden boy, and Alina, his charity case."

"You were never a charity case to me. You were my idea of happiness and love, Alina."

Her gaze on him was tender and sad. "I know and I never let their opinions get to me. I tried ignoring my parents' greed as well, though it wasn't easy. But I did try. It was me, Osama. My inner conflict and my shortcomings made the whole mess. I was irrevocably in love with you but I was struggling through so much. My jealousy toward you, my self-repulsion for feeling that way, my parents' hold on my life. I never wanted to be a model, you know. And my emotional dependence on you. You were the only anchor I had and you were going away, leaving me adrift. I hated that I couldn't do without you but I also hated the thought of you leaving me behind. I couldn't keep up with your pace, Osama. There was a war inside me. So much clutter. I wanted to be a better person but I wasn't. That's when I knew, I had to take a step back."

A heavy silence fell between them. Now that she had let it out, Alina refused to look at him. She played with her fingers instead.

"I understand all your reasons. You came to a decision but you weren't alone in that relationship. You should've at least let me know instead of just breaking the news to me that we were over, Alina."

That made her jerk her head in his direction. Her eyes filled with an emotion Osama couldn't place. "What?"

"I did try to confide in you."

Osama was taken aback. "When?"

And it seemed like that question intensified what she was going through. She got up, picked up her purse, and started toward the exit. Osama hurriedly paid and wasted no time in following her outside.

"Alina. Stop."

She didn't but he was taller and swift. He caught up to her and held her hand. She whipped around as if physically hurt.

"When did you try to tell me all that?" Osama whispered-yelled.

"When I came to you and said I didn't think long distance was a good idea."

Osama's hold on her slackened. Alina nodded, wiping her tears. "A few days before you left for the USA. A week before I broke up with you."

Which meant their last argument. The last fight.

"Remember how you reacted to it?"

He did. He did remember it all now. Her gaze at him was accusing. "You shouted at me, Osama. You didn't even listen to my explanation. I just mentioned being doubtful about the long distance and you acted like I had spoken of the unacceptable. As if having doubts about a relationship with YOU was out of the question. You were disgusted that I would suggest such a thing. I? Alina. The Alina who always depended on you? The Alina who couldn't decide on something like long distance on her own because well, duh? How could she? That authority was with you. You were the stable one in the relationship, weren't you?"

Words eluded him. Words he thought would make everything okay.

"That's when I knew that I had to do this alone. It was my struggle. You wouldn't understand it because both of us were coming from very different places. You would never be able to be the bad guy in the relationship so I had to be that. Maybe, I always was that. The toxic one, the one with the issues, the one who had doubts. You didn't have any of those so, you couldn't understand me."

Her sigh worked like a full stop to their conversation. They stood there, in another parking lot, no breakup involved this time. But did it hurt any less? No. How offended he was when Mahad called him selfish the other day. Maybe, he wasn't. But he had definitely been ignorant and lost in his own pain to the point that he couldn't fight for the love he always proudly said he was more invested in and more hurt when it ended.

Alina wiped her tears and walked in the opposite direction. Another parking lot but this time around, she was the one walking away.

𝄞

"Sila's going to ask about the bruised knuckles." Mahad deadpanned, eyeing Aahil's hands.

"She knows I'm up to no good so, she'll cooperate," Aahil assured him, all the while rubbing his hands together to lessen the sting. He had just fixed Arsalan Afindi's face for him and that token of love had left a mark.

"What about Faseeh Uncle and Faran Bhai? They will get to know you came here and left your handiwork."

Aahil glared at him. "You should know by now that I can handle my family quite fine."

That was good enough for Mahad. He settled his shades on his face and held the steering. "Now what? Sutta?"

Aahil made a face. "Charsi, we are way past high school, and mind you I never liked sutta even then."

"Yeah, we were way too burger for that." Mahad chuckled and soon it turned into a fond smile. "When was the last time we did this?" He pointed outside of the car window.

"I think it was those upperclassmen who bullied Sam and broke his glasses? And then we broke their noses."

"They almost broke mine as well, but worth it. No one fucks with my friends." Mahad ran a finger on the bridge of his nose where the scar invoked a plethora of memories. He leaned into his seat and looked sideways at Aahil.

"Lina and Sam, they might talk today."

"About time."

Mahad's countenance remained serious. "What do you reckon? Will they get back together?"

Aahil sighed, knowing already the direction of this conversation. "How many times do I have to tell you it's not going to be according to our wishes? They are freaking adults. They can decide for themselves."

"But they haven't. Not for years, Mr. Once-in-a-while-I-give-life-advice." Mahad sat up straight and that made Aahil wary.

"We've seen those two in love, Aahil. Don't you fucking deny how beautiful there were together! Their love deserves a second chance. I mean fucking hell! If they had done things right, we'd be uncles by now!"

"That has always been your life goal, hasn't it? Being an uncle." Mahad didn't even deny it, and that made Aahil smile. "It's only because of their love I've witnessed, that I'm 200% sure that they'll sort their issues without any outside interference. Sam just had to look past his own hurt and Lina had to muster the courage. They have done that so we wait and hope for the best."

Mahad hated when this guy made sense but he had to agree. Grumbling under his breath, he started the car.

"Wese, that being an uncle bit, I'm not worried about that anymore."

Aahil didn't even grace Mahad with a response, knowing too well what was to come. Mahad's smile was evil. "After today morning, I have put all my hopes on you now."

"Bugger off."

"Will I get to name your firstborn?"

"Not a chance."

"Middle name?"

"I don't think so."

"A nickname?"

"A recipe for disaster."

Mahad nodded. "Okay then, I'll ask Sila."

Aahil looked away but his lips were curled in a smile.

𝄞

Sila wasn't built to stay idle at home, not when she knew she was no longer sick. So, she went to work, revoking her one-week leave, much to Aahil's chagrin.

Her coworkers were surprised to find her back. After initial inquiries about her health and cursing Arsalan Afindi, they all got back to their routine, Sila included. She had an event to plan and she was pumped about it.

It was an hour before the day concluded when Sila heard a knock at her cabin door. She looked up and asked the other person to come inside. To her surprise, it was Elma herself.

The woman smiled at Sila. "I was informed that you came back to work."

"Yes, I felt particularly fine so thought why should I waste the time sitting at home, doing nothing?"

"We all workaholics think alike, don't we?" Elma asked good-naturedly as she took the seat before Sila.

"How are you doing, though?"

Sila reciprocated her smile. "I'm fine, Elma. Yes, it was an unfortunate thing and yes, it could have been avoided but I think I dodged a bullet by being quick."

Elma was in agreement. "That you did. You were brave and had your wits about you. It's comforting for me that you got out of there with no life-threatening injuries, but The incident made me think that we need better security around our venues so shady people shouldn't be allowed to enter. There's just so much we can do since the venues are not under our hold but I want to do at least what I can."

Sila had figured this out the moment she started working for the woman, Elma was a responsible employer who put her staff's safety and well-being as a top priority.

"We can come up with plans for that. Should add this to the agenda of our next staff meeting." Sila suggested.

"We definitely should. It's not something I'm going to compromise on." Elma asserted. That should've been the purpose of coming to Sila's cabin. Sila thought now that Elma had said her piece, she'd be on her way out but instead, Elma kept on looking at her interestedly.

"What?"

Elma smiled. "I never knew the Jahangirs are your in-laws." She rested her hands on the table. "I mean after you started working for us, I got to know that you were married but I had no clue you were married into that family."

Sila had gotten used to this reaction by now. "And let me guess, when my father-in-law called you, you were in for a surprise?"

Elma laughed lightly. "Exactly."

Then as if contemplating something, Elma regarded her, her gaze searching. "You know Jahan is not an unknown name in the hospitality industry, in fact, one of the biggest chains of hotels in Pakistan. I'm pretty surprised you didn't mention it during the interview."

"I got the job without that reference so I don't see why I should've." Sila closed her email tab on her laptop. She'd work on it tomorrow. This conversation had steered in a direction she hadn't seen coming.

"That you did. I'm just saying that not many people would've let this chance go. If they had that massive of a name attached to them."

Sila gave it a thought. If she were struggling in her professional life, then, maybe, she would've resorted to it. The corporate world and morals are often not best friends. But that was the thing here, she had spent years building this career, and gave her all to it and if that wasn't able to land her a job she deemed fitting for her experience, then what was even the point?

"After Faseeh Jahangir's call, I was both confused and surprised. Then, I got to know about your marriage from around here. Apparently, it was quite an event here in Pakistan."

Sila grimaced. She knew some of her colleagues knew about the circumstances in which she and Aahil got married, the whole fiasco with the Jatois but unlike her last workplace, people here hadn't made her feel bad about it or try to milk that association for their benefit. Elma's ignorance vouched for this as well. Elma saw Sila's troubled expression that made her reach out and pat her hand reassuringly. "I don't keep up with viral Pakistani stuff. I don't see the point and at that time I was in the USA with my parents and kids."

"It was an unfortunate thing, all that stuff dished out to us. But we got out of it."

"Not just got out."

Sila looked at her questionably. Elma smiled. "Sila, I've been in contact with your father, brother, and sister-in-law the past whole week. And not to forget your husband. And the way they all look out for you, especially, again, your husband, that's beautiful. I mean as someone who had no idea about the whole snafu surrounding your relationship and your wedding, all thanks to the nosy public and nasty politicians, I would've never been able to pick up on it. It's so natural, all of it."

Saying that Elma got up. "All I'm trying to say is, you're blessed and I like that for you."

She turned toward the door. "I'm off now. You better pack your stuff and leave. You were supposed to be home for a week but now that you're back, I'm not going to overwork you."

It was after a while since Elma left her cabin, Sila processed her words and each time she remembered it all, a smile reached her lips. She opened the chat on her phone and started typing.

Me: Can we go to the Delli's tonight?

The Rich Husband: No trips to Delli's for you. Not anymore.

Sila chuckled. So, he was still bummed she left for work even though he told her not to.

Me: That's a bummer. I'll have to look for a new partner, isn't it?

Me: Shouldn't be a problem, now that I know I'm a good kisser.

The Rich Husband: Who's spreading misinformation? You're not a good kisser.

Me: 🤨

The Rich Husband: Yeah right. You're a DAMN good kisser. I'm on my way to get you and then we'll hit Delli's. And you owe me a damn good makeout session, just saying.

Me: What for? throwing man-tantrums?

The Rich Husband: Whatever. Kisser. I didn't read anything other than that.

Me: Clearly

He didn't reply, probably already on his way to get her and Sila could only laugh as she collect her things.

𝄞

Raed was in his room, working on his manuscript. His trip to Pakistan had been going well so far but there was one issue. The peak summer months were upon them and that was a hindrance in his exploration of the city. Amal asked him to take it slow as he wasn't used to the harsh weather, especially during the daytime. So, keeping that in mind, it was a day off for him which he thought to utilize well, by starting with his draft.

Imran was out, as he was for the most part of the day. He was a chef by profession. Raed had known it since the moment he became his low-paying guest. Imran tried to refuse the money but Raed was adamant. He wasn't going to live off someone else. Amal wasn't aware of this arrangement and he had no plans of telling her. She was a good host and tried to accommodate him to the best of her ability but he had some rules of his own.

So, there he was, alone, busy, and very much satisfied with the beginning of his first draft when there was a knock at the door.

Imran didn't have many visitors. Raed was relieved to know that guy didn't have a vibrant social life so the house was always peaceful, something Raed needed to work without interruptions.

He got up, making up his mind that he'd let the other person know that Imran wasn't home but when he opened the main door, instead of anyone he could attribute to Imran, he came across three women with a tray of food with them and their rapt attention centered at...him.

"Haleh was right, he's good-looking." One of them nudged the other and whispered in her ear. Raed raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

That made straightened them immediately. Their eyes were still fixed on him, interest and approval shone there but Raed could make out nothing of it.

"We are your neighbors. There." One of them pointed toward the house right across the street. It was the backside of what looked to be a decent residential complex.

"We are also Amal's aunties. It's a shame that girl hasn't introduced us to you so we thought why not?" One of them said cheekily. She covered her face with the corner of her saree but her mischievous smile gave her away. "I'm Chandni, by the way. And these two are Shamim and Rukhsana."

The other two nodded at him and Raed greeted them, too confused to do anything else, like inviting them in. It seemed like they had no plans for that as well.

"We have another one, Azra but she's home. It was a covert operation and she can't hide anything from Amal so...by the way we brought you food."

The next thing, the tray was thrust into his hands. "Nothing too spicy but everything desi. You'll like it. We are sure of it."

"Thank you so much but—"

"No, but. We are off now. We'll see you again when Amal brings you home to meet us. Till then take care and enjoy Karachi."

He nodded obediently as if he'd do nothing else. The woman left as they'd come, whispering and smiling all the while. Raed looked at them and then at the tray of food.

Hospitality, Amal was on point about that. He mused as he went inside and uncovered the tray.

After all, he'd developed an appetite and a taste for desi food.

𝄞

Collecting the used plates, Unaiza picked up the stack and came out of the room. The pasta party had been a success, as usual. The cousins followed this trend they had set themselves. Once a week, they'd sit around a feast and talk about all their problems, all the while enjoying some fine food. Rameen missed it this week. Unaiza made a mental note to send her the pictures of her delicious Pasta.

She was just outside the kitchen when she stopped in her tracks. The voices coming from inside had her rooted to her spot.

"I hope you didn't mind me what I said about Unaiza, Auntie. I just felt it was important to discuss this issue with you. You know I don't consider you any less than my own mother, can talk to you about anything." Mehreen, Farman's wife and the new daughter-in-law of the family conversed with her mother-in-law. Normally, Unaiza wouldn't have eavesdropped but her name was mentioned so she had the right to know what was this about.

"I appreciate your concern, Mehreen. You're right. The tragedy in Unaiza's life shouldn't define her but that's not something we can do anything about. It's on her parents. If they don't realize that they are wasting their daughter's prime years, then our concern doesn't hold much importance."

Joint families have some very peculiar costumes. On the surface, everything seems like the surface of calm waters but one stone, no matter how small, and the ripple effect goes a long way. For the sake of peace, the issues are never voiced out but are often whispered in close-door conversations just like the one Unaiza was listening to.

"Last month, one of Unaiza's friends got married and Auntie, believe me when she was getting ready to attend the event, I felt the pain in my heart. Does Unaiza have no right to such happiness? I was also surprised by Ammara Chachi's oblivion. Unaiza is almost twenty-seven now, the right age to settle down. But Ammara Chachi didn't seem at all worried."

Unaiza wanted to laugh at Mehreen's concern. She made it sound like she was more worried for Unaiza than her own mother.

"And the kind of past Unaiza carries, finding a suitable suitor for her will be an uphill task as it is. She does not have a line of Rishtas at her doorstep. It really doesn't make sense to me why Ammara Chachi and Anwar Chachu aren't actively on a rishta hunt for her."

Ayesha sighed, patting Mehreen's arm. "It's Unaiza's wish. She doesn't want to remarry. Ammara told me. She and Anwar don't want to force her into anything."

"What? Is Unaiza crazy? Will she stay at her parents' place all her life? And no one ever tried to knock some sense into her?"

"It wasn't our place—"

"Please, Auntie. Give it a thought. Serious thought. Unaiza is the eldest child. Then there are Urwa and Arooba. Ammara Chachi should think about her remaining two daughters. What's their fault in all this? Also, knowing this household, I don't think we all will ever be separated."

Seeing the displeasure on Ayesha's face, she immediately cleared her statement. "I'm not implying we should. This family makes the joint system looks easy and wholesome, Auntie. All I'm saying is, Farman is the eldest son. Rafay is just a child and these two are the only two guys in a house filled with girls. Ammara Chachi and Anwar Chachu will not stay with their daughters all their lives. That's not how life works. We all are family. Do you really think that Unaiza's decision will not affect Farman in the long run? He'll have to take care of his own family along with the extended one? That's not just."

Placing the plates on the table outside, Unaiza stepped away from the kitchen door with a heavy heart and heavier limbs. She wasn't even that hurt. Just tired.

Being a young widow in this society wasn't easy.

But in the joint family system, it was all the more daunting.

𝄞

The despondency in the car was a vibe Aahil vehemently discouraged. He scowled through the rearview mirror.

"What's with the long faces? Mama and Baba have gone on a vacation, not to Mars!"

His admonishment didn't have the desired effect. Arsh looked up, his glasses lopsided, as always. "Couldn't they squeeze us in?"

"I do not even take up that much space," Zain grumbled, folding his arms on his chest.

Beside Aahil, Hanah sniffled in Sila's lap, hiding her face in her neck. Sila caressed her hair. "It's okay, Hanah. Mama and Baba also needed a holiday together. Didn't you tell me they take you everywhere they go? Can't Hanah be a big girl and let Mama Baba enjoy their time? You know they'll be sad if they got to know you were heartbroken."

Before Hanah could reply, Zain did. "I don't think they will be. She was crying in front of them as well. Didn't make much difference to them."

Sila jabbed Aahil's side, telling him to contain the loudmouthed Chutka. Aahil had never got to know how so his reply was a helpless grimace.

"Zain, do you realize she'll cry some more this way, don't you?" Sila asked, disappointment visible on her face. Zain pursed his lips but not before huffing in a perfect brat manner.

"I just think we got played. Big time." Arsh said out loud.

"We are maybe, adopted? What do you say Bhai?" Zain echoed, asking for his brother's opinion. The honorific was a shocker for everyone. But he had his moments.

"I'm angry with both Mama and Baba. They can get a new Hanah on the vescation. I don't care." Hanah announced all resolve and determination.

Sila and Aahil shared an alarmed look. They hadn't anticipated sending the parents on a couple's getaway would end up like this. And it was just the beginning. They were coming back from the airport for crying out loud!

"Okay, enough!" Aahil stopped the car and turned into his seat. "Listen you shit-hea—"

"Oh my goodness! Language, Aahil Jahangir!" Sila covered Hanah's ears and also shifted in her seat so she was closer to the boys. Aahil closed his eyes as if asking for divine intervention.

"I meant shweetheads."

"We heard shitheads." Zain and Arsh chorused.

"Do you realize how much trouble you'll be in if someone was to accidentally tell Big-D, Dadu, and Dado that you called us shitheads?" Zain's stance was full of a challenge. Aahil hoped some of his sins had been forgiven for enduring all this.

He and Sila shared a determined look and exhaled.

"Look, boys." Aahil started. "I shouldn't have called you the s-word. My bad. I'm sorry. It was my first slip-up and it will never happen again. Promise."

Zain and Arsh's scowls eased somewhat. Sila took up from here. "When you go to play with your friends or go to school, or to the movies, or simply when you come to stay with Chachu slash Mamu, do Mama Baba complain that they want to tag along?"

Three heads shook at the same time. Sila was satisfied. Good. "Mama and Baba are Mama Baba, yes but they are husband and wife as well. They need some time together too."

"And when was the last time they went somewhere and left you all behind? Can you tell of one such incident?" Aahil probed.

There was no response. Aahil took Hanah from Sila's lap and settled her curls. "So why can't we be a good sport and enjoy this time and let Mama and Baba enjoy it as well? A whole week. So many things to do. What's say honeypie? And it's vacation, not vescation."

"We both told your Mama and Baba that we'll never let you three get bored during this whole week. We have things planned but if you want to sulk and argue then, okay. Fine with us."

Sila's grave tone was the last straw. The three kids exchanged a look and then grinned. "We are in!"

Hanah jumped in Aahil's lap while Arsh and Zain also looked pumped. Aahil and Sila shook hands on the console, their another win as a team.

"KFC?" Aahil asked as he started the car once again.

"Yes, and McD's ice cream!"

"And Subway's sandwich!"

"Fries, Mamu. A full bucket."

Aahil pursed his lips. "Reconsider it, my lords and lady. I'm broke."

Zain rolled his eyes. "Next thing he'll say his Mercedes we are in right now is a donkey cart."

Sila couldn't help it. She burst into laughter and even though, Aahil was fully offended, he couldn't help his own chuckle.

𝄞

As per their promise, Sila and Aahil kept the week entertaining for the kids. In the morning, they'd go to school and the couple to their respective offices but the evenings were reserved for fun and unbridled joy. The kid's initial tantrums aside, they were so happy that their parents felt left out and wanted to cut their trip short, much for Sila and Aahil's smugness.

Sila lounged on the bench, trying to even her breathing. Adventure parks were not an easy sport, not when you were here with three energizer bunnies. She took a sip from her water bottle and kept her eyes at some distance where Arsh and Zain were taking photos. Hanah was with Aahil, she wanted a ride both of her cousins found not per their idea of adrenaline. That made Hanah pout which was a big No on her Mamu's watch, so Aahil gave Arsh and Zain the look and took Hanah alone. They didn't mind, though.

It was the weekend so the kids were geared up for an adventure-filled experience and so far, today has been nothing short of amazing. They were to visit the seaside food street for dinner right when they got done here but so far, with Arsh and Zain's eyes set on the roller coaster, the time to leave wasn't near.

Sila capped the bottle and placed it in the bag when she saw Arsh and Zain exchanging anxious looks with each other. Sila immediately got up, realizing something was wrong when she found them running toward her.

"Wh—"

"Mama!" Arsh panted.

"What?"

Zain bent her down and rolled his eyes to the side. "MAMA!"

Sila followed his lead and it suddenly made sense. One very familiar Mrs. Junaid was eyeing them, standing there. On finding Sila and the boys attentive toward her she made her way toward them.

Arsh and Zain planked her from both sides as if trying to protect her. Sila found the gesture cute.

"You boys don't have to pull another performance. I know she isn't your mother."

"She is!" Both chorused.

"She is not. Drop the act." Mrs. Junaid was persistent.

"What do you even know, hun? You don't have access to our birth certificates and there it is written in bold letters that she is our MOMMA!"

For emphasis, Zain wound his arms around Sila's torso. Sila didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"What is going on here?"

Yeah. Just what they needed. Aahil took a step forward and instantly recognized Mrs. Junaid. He wanted to abort the mission and run in the opposite direction but he was a good husband and a favorite Chachu so he didn't. Instead, he held Hanah's hand and taking long strides, stopped next to Sila. Arsh and Zain looked visibly relieved that he was there.

"I was telling your 'kids' to drop the act. I know they are not yours. These two are your brother's and the cute girl is your sister's."

Busted. Sila and Aahil exchanged a look and then nodded. "Yes, you're right, Mrs. Junaid.

Mrs. Junaid's triumphant smile rubbed Aahil the wrong way but he stayed quiet, as per Sila's silent plea.

"I was very confused during that whole fiasco but then I figured that you both acted out a whole ploy in front of me that day. You guys weren't married and these there," She pointed at Hanah, Arsh, and Zain. "Weren't your children. Your subsequent family photos on your wedding further proved it."

"Mrs. Junaid, that was just harmless damage control."

"And we really don't owe you any explanation," Aahil muttered under his breath. Sila jabbed his side. She was doing that a lot these days.

"I'm not mad at you both. Aj kal ke bache! I figured that was a cover-up for this one's," She now turned to Aahil. "Elaborate lie. Khair, I no longer hold that against you. Just so you know I was #TeamJahan when that scandal hit the social media. Calling it a scandal is also wrong in my opinion. Not one thing that Jatoi Tattu said made sense. You two were dating then as your family said later on and I had already seen that in the mall. I mean a random woman will never help a random guy acting as his wife and the mother of his three kids."

Aahil stifled his laugh while Sila wanted to face-palm.

"Am I right?" Mrs. Junaid wanted their affirmation.

"Of course. We were in the initial phase of our love story then." Sila kept a straight face. Mrs. Junaid seemed satisfied that she had cracked it all. She looked appreciatively at Sila and Aahil.

"You two complement each other a lot. May this union stays intact. But please, tone down the lies and performances, Astagfar."

Regarding them with a fond yet disappointed gaze, she ruffled Hanah's hair and went away to where her husband was sitting with his grandkids.

Turned out, coming clean to Mrs. Junaid was impossible in their life. Sila and Aahil shrugged. It was probably good this way.

𝄞

"We're going to lose!"Arsh whined.

"We won't!" Sila and Zain said togeher.

"Tell me, how will we find something yellow in Dadu's room? That dude owns nothing yellow. He hates that color."

"We will find a way or yellow dye. Rest you both should leave up to me."

Sila had gotten over her shock by some things that came out of this kid's mouth. He was unpredictable but his cheating ways were the reason they were head to head with Hanah, Aahil, and Jamil's team in the scavenger hunt. They were surprisingly good but Sila had attributed it to Zain's taller and more unpredictable version being on their team.

This game had been the most fun she had had in a while. They had to look for something with a map. Zain wasted no time rushing to his grandfather's study and getting his hands on the globe. Aahil did the same but with Zain's Pakistan studies book.

Then came looking for something fuzzy, Arsh immediately went to the bathroom and came out with a container full of watery shampoo. They had to look for a chair but it was too heavy to move around so Zain asked his grandmother to sit on it, as she watched her favorite TV serial and now she was also part of their hunt list.

"We are yet to find something alive! And something that moves."

"We can tag you as something and alive for something that moves we can....also tag you?"

Arsh glared at his younger brother. "Chachu will have sorted this by now."

"Chachu is a certified cheater."

"And Chachu is about to make you three taste dust," Aahil called out as he passed them by. Sila, Zain, and Arsh shared a panicked glance, and the next thing Sila knew she was running after him.

She climbed the stairs where he had vanished and crossed the hallway. Jahangir house was massive, that's why an ideal place for a scavenger hunt. She was about to move in the direction of the terrace when she felt a tug on her arm. She turned around and found a relaxed and somewhat smug Aahil looking at her.

He was up to no good. Sila gulped. "What?"

He bent down. She leaned into the wall. His lips touched her cheek and traveled to her ear. "Be a good spot and play along, eh?"

The same words he had said to her before as well but that time they only invoked confusion and frustration. This time, the whisper toyed with her sensitive skin and made her shiver.

Aahil looked around and held her hand. Stopping outside what she knew was his old room, he opened the door and both of them were inside.

"About fucking time." He mumbled as his hands came around her, gently placing her head against the door, peering right into her eyes, a dip of his mouth.

And it began. The same dance they had gotten used to but could never. The fumbling of hands, the labored breathing, the passionate embrace, whispered words.

In the past couple of days, every time they came this close, they discovered a new world, wandering hands, tingling lips, and marking something already yours.

"I can't see them anywhere. Are you sure they went upstairs?"

Aahil stopped. So did Sila. His frustration grew with every second. Her amusement also did.

They stayed quiet but the breathing would take a while to get back to normal and that was precisely how Mrs. Irshad and Sabah found them as they opened the door after three knocks.

"I get that you two are married but you were in the middle of a scavenger hunt with the kids. At least have some consideration for that."

Aahil narrowed his eyes at his grandmother. "I've been hunting for two hours now. Sue me for wanting a break to get some rest."

Mrs. Irshad looked between him and Sila and their disheveled state. "You ran another marathon in the name of rest, boy."

"And you interrupted that. I now understand why my parents had to go on a couple's getaway, Dado."

"At least they didn't start making a baby in the middle of playing with the babies."

Sabah couldn't help it anymore. She laughed, looking away. Sila wanted the ground to open and swallow her.

"Good luck to any fella who wants to even get to the first base in this house, making a baby is a far cry."

"Good thing you live away."

"Small mercies in life."

Aahil held Sila's hand as they came out of the room. Sila pushed him away. "You're an imbecile."

"Cockblocked imbecile. Don't be mad at me. Life's already not easy."

What a piece of work. She wanted to cry.

𝄞

"Here we go." Sila tied the loose ends of Hanah's braid and turned her around. "Gorgeous, as usual."

Hanah hopped off the bed and stood before the mirror. She liked what she saw if her big grin was any indication.

"Chachi, you know how to braid hair?" Zain inquired, looking away from his video game momentarily. Sila narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course, I do."

"He's surprised because your hair is short and certainly can't be braided," Aahil explained as Hanah settled herself in his arms, resting her head on his chest. He kissed the top of it and pulled her closer.

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to braid hair. And my hair wasn't always short."

"It wasn't?"Aahil was fully interested in the conversation.

"Obviously."

"Picture or it didn't happen."

Sila couldn't believe him. Arsh and Zain had also paused their game and were now attentive toward them.

"I can show you a whole album. Wait a second." She left the bed and opened her side of the wardrobe. Aahil watched her rummaging through her stuff and at the last, she took out a photo album and took her seat back on the bed. "Here."

Aahil took the album eagerly. The kids surrounded him. Sila sat close to them explaining the context behind every picture.

It was practically her childhood in memories, her ears spent with her parents mostly. It was her most prized possession and she didn't give just anyone the luxury to have a peek inside the part of her life she loved the most but with Aahil and the kids, she was eager to tell them everything.

"That was right after I got a scolding from my Mama. That's why I look like I was forced to stand there." She laughed, recounting an anecdote. Hanah, Arsh, and Zain were fully invested in her memory lane and had so many questions to ask. Sila answered all of those and more, enjoying every bit of it.

"Dado has one such album of Baba, Phupho, and Chachu. We will ask her to show you." Arsh settled his glasses and briefed her excitedly.

"I'd love that." She pinched his cheek earning a cute smile in return.

It was way after that, Arsh and Zain were fast asleep in the next room and Hanah was with Aahil and Sila, hugging Sila tight as she wandered off to the dreamland. Sila shut off the bedside lamp but stopped when she saw him wide awake and smiling at a picture in his hand.

Her picture.

"You have your Mama's nose." He commented. Sila accepted it as if it was the most beautiful thing someone ever said to her. "I got my attitude from her as well."

"But your face structure is your Baba's."

"No complaints. My Baba was a handsome man."

"He was, of course."

Aahil flipped the picture in his hand and then turned it over.

"I need that back," Sila told him.

"Can it go to our photo wall?"

Sila was taken aback. But then she nodded slowly. "But only if yours also goes there."

"Why not. I was a very cute kid. Everyone could spot it on my face that I had a deal going on with the devil."

Sila laughed, fluffing her pillow. Aahil extended his hand which she took and shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. A content smile was on their lips as they drifted off to sleep.

𝄞

Author's Note

Unaiza and her backstory is so far mentioned in chapter 3 and chapter 19. If you're confused about her, you can go back to these chapters to have a better idea.