He was sorting his media shelf with a frown marring his face. Adjusting his glasses, he rummaged through the collection but it failed to bring him the joy he always associated with it. Instead, his thoughts were all over the place, confusion and a hint of annoyance.

And hurt. Yeah, top of the list.

His life was on the track he had always wanted for it. Dream school, chosen career line; he was ready to turn his passion into his living. He should've been over the moon, not an ounce of doubt should've crossed his mind, and nothing should have been allowed to dim the light in his eyes.

About that.

His movement halted as his scowl deepened. Pursing his lips, he sat down on the couch when he heard the footfalls outside his room.

He craned his neck in the direction of the door but he didn't have to see who was here, he knew, an expertise he had acquired over the years.

Alina pushed her hair out of her face and gave him a waned smile. Osama didn't reciprocate it. He would've if she hadn't been ghosting him for the past two days.

"You finally got the time out of your busy schedule to see your boyfriend." He drawled, turning around to continue with the task that had lost its importance the moment she walked through the door.

"What kept you occupied? As far as my meager knowledge goes, you didn't have much going on. If something important came up, I'd love to know."

"Osama—"

Her tone was pleading but his hurt was all-encompassing. He even refused to look at her. Alina took an uncertain step forward but it seemed there was a chasm between them, ready to swallow her. But he could see neither its depth nor its vastness.

"Do you realize I'm leaving in less than a week? Life for both of us is going to be different. We'll have to navigate through hectic schedules, different time zones, and so much more. But here, I haven't left yet and you already seem distant and—"

"That's what I'm here for." Alina interrupted him, causing him to look at her with a hint of foreboding.

She fiddled with her shirt sleeves and gnawed at her bottom lip. "I...Osama....I don't...maybe..."

"What?" He was agitated. She closed her eyes momentarily and nodded as if telling herself this was a good thing to do, the only thing to do, perhaps.

"I don't think long distance is a good idea." She blurted out. Words that she had rehearsed for hours in her room.

But for him, they came tumbling out as if no practice was needed. As if she was relieved to propose this. As if she wanted nothing but this.

"Are you out of your mind?" Osama all but shouted, the first for him, and her as well. She flinched back but stood her ground. "Think about it. We—"

"Wait a damn second. There's no 'we' here. Just you. It's about you, Alina. Don't project it on me when I'm ready to do this for as long as I have to."

"How can you be so certain?"

His eyes blazed. She had never seen him this angry, least of all at her. Wrong thing to say. Just tell him the reason, her mind shouted. This isn't going to end well if you lose yourself in translation of your excuses. But her words remained muted. How difficult is it to admit that you are the problem? He wasn't wrong in his assertion but she was also bleeding everywhere.

"How can I be certain? Because newsflash, Alina, I fucking love you, that's why. That's the only surety I need. But seems like that is not the case with you." He ran a hand through his hair. She tried to take to step forward but stayed rooted to her spot.

"I'm the one moving away, I'm the one who will be in a new world, surrounded by new people. If anything, I should be the one having doubts about long distance. I should be the one to get cold feet. But look at me, Alina. I'm as sure as I was when I realized this love," He pointed between them. "Was not going anywhere. Not for me."

"It's there for me as well." She cried as if scorned.

"Then give me a reason. A solid one at that." His stance was full of challenge as if this was a contest.

"You're not even trying to understand me." She mumbled, all broken.

"Then make me, Alina. I asked for just that. One reason. That's all. Do you realize the seriousness of what you are implying? After all this time? You're still doubtful, even though I've been there for you every freaki—"

He stopped and pursed his lips but his hurt and anger didn't subside. He regarded her as someone incapable of coming to such a decision. How could she? When he had always been the one to decide for them. She had always followed his lead, no questions asked. How could she want to move away from this? From him?

Alina stepped back. If this was his reaction to her refusal to long distance, how would he react to her other reasons? The reasons she hated herself for?

And suddenly Alina knew...he wouldn't understand.

He was secure in his position, in his feelings, as he was everywhere in his life. Doubts, conflicting emotions, and self-repulsion weren't the things he had ever dealt with.

Everyone always told her he was too good for her, what if somewhere, he also believed that? If he hadn't, he wouldn't be acting this way.

One step. Two. One more.

She had come here with doubts but she was going with conviction. Their love might be right but right now, for each other, they weren't.

She was insecure of him and he was not ready to give her the reins to decide for herself when it came to him and their relationship.

Doomed. A recipe for disaster. And he couldn't even see it.

She turned around, almost running out of his room.

"Alina."

But she didn't stop.

𝄞

"Alina."

He mumbled softly. His head rested on the pillow and his eyes wandered into the semi-darkness. The reverberations of her name collided with the walls and came back to haunt him. He smiled at his thoughts. Perhaps, his friends were right. He had turned into quite a Devdas.

He had a thriving social life given his career line, work commitments, and a friend circle but since the day he met Alina at Kepoch, he hadn't felt the need to be anywhere. Work, he couldn't ignore now that the shooting was almost over and the post-production was upon him but other than that, he hadn't ventured out in the real world much for a few days.

He spent those days evaluating and reevaluating, concluding, but then finding himself stuck once again.

A conundrum, honestly.

Jodi would be here in a while to call him for dinner. She was worried for him but he had specifically asked her not to tell anyone about his lost state, least of all his parents. He didn't want them to worry unnecessarily. She obliged but something told him he wouldn't be able to keep with it for long.

The knock at his bedroom door proved it the next moment. He raised his head. Incessant ramming against the surface. Not at all Jodi's style. He sighed, knowing his luck had run out. Getting up, he switched on the lights and opened the door.

"Good to see you are alive even though, we were here to get the body." Mahad quipped as he pushed Osama aside and entered the room. Aahil made a face at Mahad's crassness. He held Osama's shoulder reassuringly. "All good, Sam?"

"You think? Look at his face, Jahangir. He's aged at least two decades in the last week or so." Mahad provided his unsolicited opinion as he sat on Osama's bed. Aahil ignored his words and gave an appraising look to Osama since he chose not to grace them with a reply.

"Use your words, Sam. We aren't freaking telepaths."

"For that, you need to shut up first." Aahil had had enough. Mahad raised his hand in peace offering but Aahil knew peace was a word unknown to him.

Osama sighed audibly and closed the door. Both Aahil and Mahad exchanged a worried glance between them. Mahad's jibes had been an attempt at diffusing the tension but it seemed like that hadn't worked.

"Talk to us, Sam." It was Mahad this time around. Osama glanced at him and looked away.

"When you called me selfish at Aahil's place, I don't think you were that off."

"That's not it but go on." Mahad encouraged him. Aahil's reply was an eye roll but Mahad didn't care much for it.

"She was going through a lot. Her parents and their hold on her life. She was displeased with the career path they had chosen for her. Then her own conflicting emotions, her self-hatred, and her confusion. She told me that she was jealous of the stability in my life. She also told me she hated herself for it so much that I'd never be able to imagine."

He covered his face with his hands, exhaustion evident in his every move. Then he looked at both of his best friends. "And I made it about myself. If that's not selfishness, then I don't know what it is."

"Sam—" But Osama held up a hand in Aahil's direction. "No, Aahil. Let me talk. You know half of the things that she told me, things that led her to break things off with me, I had an idea about those already. I was aware of her parents' shitty job at being 0ne, and their greed. I knew modeling wasn't something she envisioned for herself. And I had seen her subdued and withdrawn the last couple of weeks before I left for the USA. Still, all I kept in mind was me. Fucking asshole move."

He got up, pacing the length of his room agitatedly. "She was emotionally dependent on me. For years, I had been her anchor. And that gave me the idea that in this relationship, the sole authority to make a decision was mine. How could she do that? She was Alina, who needed me for every curveball life threw her way. How could she decide that she didn't need me anymore? If anything, that should've been my decision."

"Sam, you're overdoing it now." Mahad put in.

"I'm not, maybe I wasn't actively thinking on these lines that time but in hindsight, that was the reason for my reaction to everything."

They had nothing to contradict that. Osama stopped by the window and looked outside. The street lamps made a halo but they looked like tiny globes of fire, ready to burn everything.

"She said to me I never tried to understand her. And to be honest, the kind of privilege I had while growing up, I don't think she was wrong in that assessment. I couldn't understand her and I didn't. I hadn't faced one issue that was an everyday occurrence in her life. I had everything she struggled with daily. So, if she was jealous of that, I get her and if she thought I wasn't well-equipped to see where she was coming from, I also see the sense in that sentiment."

"But you were just eighteen that time, Sam. A literal kid. Don't be too harsh on yourself." Aahil tried again but Osama only smiled dejectedly. "I was, of course, but a few days back, when I went to her place to demand answers for the closure I need, I was no longer that, Aahil. But my mentality was still stuck in that phase. Once again I was thinking of my hurt and my right to know why she broke my heart and once again, I disregarded her feelings completely."

He leaned against the glass pane. "She came to me a week before our proper break up to tell me she didn't think long distance was a good idea. I lost it. I shouted at her and I was wallowing in my disbelief and misery. Perhaps, that was the moment she realized that nothing was salvageable between us. I gave her that conviction. My reaction must've been her last straw. And even then and all those years after that, I never thought much of that argument. She had come to me and if I were a bit wise about it, we would've sat down to talk. She would've shared her problems with me, her doubts, her miseries but I refused to be that person. Then I had the gall to say she ruined everything between us."

Ominous silence stretched in the room after that.

In Wadia House, the air could mimic the same stillness in Rameen's room.

Alina rested her chin on her knees and stared at the piece of cake on the plate.

"It's delicious. Don't be shy and eat." Haleh prompted her but Alina shook her head slightly. Haleh sighed. "In this house, this isn't just a cake. It's feel-good food. Whenever any of us is down, sick, or just not feeling it, a piece of this goodness with a cup of tea and the problem might not find a solution, but life starts appearing a bit less shitty. Try it."

At that, a ghost of a smile reached Alina's lips. She picked a small piece and chewed on it slowly. Before her, Rameen, Sila, and Amal sat with a mixture of worry and tenderness on their faces.

"Then you walked out on him?"

Alina nodded at Amal's query without looking up at her. "And the next time I saw him, I broke up with him."

"And then he went to the USA and you remained here. Full stop but not really."

Alina didn't say anything to that. She rolled the loose thread between her fingers.

"But you were still in love with him, though," Sila said. "And you let him go without telling him the reason behind that decision, that's another thing that he also didn't try enough to know but Alina, it was a huge risk."

"It was. But I was beyond reason at that time. Too scared and too insecure, I didn't find it in myself to come clean to him."

"When he didn't try to understand you, you also didn't trust him with your struggles," Haleh mumbled. All heads went in her direction. She just shrugged, not realizing she had more or less summed it all up in a single sentence.

"All your insecurities aside, you were disappointed in him as well." Rameen sat down next to Alina, holding her by the shoulder. "He was the person you could trust with everything. The problem solver in the relationship, as you said. But when you reached out to him, he refused to play that role, and that made you all the more hopeless about everything."

"But that's the thing, Alina," Amal interjected. "No one's perfect. You can't put the other person on a pedestal, especially, when both of you were in your teens. Keeping that in mind, your reasons make absolute sense and so does his oblivion."

Sila affirmed. "Exactly. You're supposed to make mistakes at that age but letting them carve your path in your later years is just wrong."

In Osama's room, Aahil reached Osama's side. "You're doing exactly what Lina did all those years back, Sam."

Mahad had to agree. "I love Lina but Aahil is right. She immersed herself in her self-pity and insecurities to the point that she started believing she wasn't right for you and your relationship was doomed. That you'll be better off without her."

"Which is a load of bullshit." Aahil shook his head as if he was explaining the most obvious thing to Osama. "If that were the case, she wouldn't have opened up to you now, giving you all these reasons. It's been years. If you both were that forgettable to each other, you both wouldn't have pined after each other the way you did."

At Wadia House, Sila was of the same view. "Nothing's lost. If it were, he wouldn't have come to you again and again to get the answers. If the bygones were as fickle, he would've forgotten you the moment he set foot on the foreign land."

"This kind of love isn't to throw into the abyss, Alina." Haleh was suddenly brimming with enthusiasm. "You loved him even when there was nothing and still do. And he's in love with you regardless of everything. And don't you dare deny it." She raised her finger threatingly and Alina who was ready to contradict her, became silent. "I mean we all picked up on it without even knowing shit."

"We?" Both Rameen and Amal echoed. Haleh shrugged as if she couldn't hear them. "You shouldn't have left his place silently that day. Instead, you should've sat him down like listen you four-eyed twat,"

"Hey!" Alina swatted her arm away. She was unfazed. "You should've rammed it in his skull, spell it for him if he was too thickheaded about it. Who even walks out like this? Not me. Sorry."

In Osama's room, Mahad was exuding the same enthusiasm. "She walked out and you let her? You should've held her hand, made her sit down, and asked her why the hell she thought the long-distance wouldn't work. Who even let the best thing that ever happened to them go this way? Not me. Sorry."

"This isn't about you, Lashari." Aahil drawled, unimpressed by Mahad's bravado. Mahad remained unperturbed. Aahil turned to Osama. "Get your woman, Sam. You both are not those kids anymore. You're no longer driven by your hurt and the unknown."

"Don't forget the 2023 Devdas stint," Mahad muttered.

Sila held Alina's hand as night prevailed around Wadia House. "You're no longer the same eighteen-year-old, Alina. You're independent, thriving in the career of your choice. The influence of your parents isn't as it used to be because you're no longer dependent on them. That also makes you value your own worth and be proud and happy to see Osama where he is today."

For the first time since she came here, Alina's affirmation was firm and without any doubts.

"Then go get your man, fucking hell," Amal exclaimed. "Talk, make out, talk, make out again. Do whatever it takes to get back to your normal but for the love of God, do it. I hate it when beautiful and talented women are crying over men."

"Just so you know, she daily cruises the city with the man she's into these days." Haleh couldn't keep it in anymore.

"At least, I don't cry for him." Amal shot back.

"See, no denial that she's into him."

"Have you seen him? Who wouldn't be into him?" Rameen asked, earning a pillow from Amal. "Possessive already?"

"Curious, actually. When did you even see him?" Amal glared at her.

At that, Haleh left her place and inconspicuously tried to leave the room as well.

Not so quick.

The pillow thwacked her back. She whipped around ready to charge. "Amal Rafiq, I swear to God I will refuse to even recognize you when I marry a filthy rich eye candy. You will regret ever raising your pillow at me."

"Didn't know we were calling Mr. Art connoisseur CEO an eye candy now." Rameen chuckled under her breath making both Sila and Alina laugh. Haleh and Amal looked at them confusedly but they spared them the details. Haleh was already charged, they couldn't take the risk.

Amal and Haleh's bickering ensued in the background, Rameen and Sila were by her side. Alina reclined with her head against the headboard, a forlorn look on her face.

In his room, Osama more or less did the same.

𝄞

"Is it supposed to look like this?"

"It looks just fine to me."

"I wouldn't be too sure if I were you."

"Your culinary skills are 0/10. Your opinion doesn't matter, to be frank."

He huffed, still staring at the simmering chicken gravy. Sila ignored his concerns, preparing the rice for layering.

"I really can't do with you sometimes."

"What did I do now?" Aahil asked, tasting the gravy. He scrunched his face in deep concentration and picked up the salt container. "It still needs more salt, son of a gun."

"Whose brilliant idea it was to commence our homemade food week with Biryani?"

"Food is Biryani, Biryani is food. Fight with my logic, I dare you."

Sila shrugged, not seeing any fault with his declaration. He opened the refrigerator to take the water bottle out when she got reminded of what she wanted to talk to him about.

"What did we discuss the other day?"

Aahil took a sip from the bottle. "Your 5/10 kissing skills?"

Her stance was challenging. "We've been through this, for fuck's sake. My kissing skills are top tier, you said so."

"Did I? I don't remember. Maybe, a lil demonstration will convince me. Practice makes a man perfect."

"I'm a woman so I'm already perfect."

He enjoyed her seething retort and proceeded to snake his arm around her waist but she slapped it away. "Don't you dare, Aahil! I'm not compromising on my hard work. Later." She dismissed him, turning to the Biryani. His face showed how displeased he was. "You're turning me down for Biryani? Is it more important than quality time with your husband?"

"It's more important than everything else. And when the quantity is all over the place, the quality loses all its validity. You see a chance and pull me to you regardless of time and place. Quality, yeah sure."

"Just honing your skills, Sila."

"Or you're perpetually horny?"

"That too."

She couldn't help her chuckle. He was never the one to deny such trivial things. What's there to be shy about? Shame is for the weak and I'm getting to put my hands on you. A win, a glorious one, at that. I don't see any fucking problem here, His exact words when she appeared flustered after they were found by Dado and Sabah Auntie in his old room. She secretly loved his unabashed ways but hey, telling him would only inflate his ego.

"You stocked the refrigerator, again."

Aahil shrugged. "And what about it?"

"Aahil!" Sila began, her voice conveying she wasn't pleased at all. "If we've run out on one thing, doesn't mean the whole pantry needs restocking, for God's sake. Not in this economy."

"That didn't cross my mind."

"Clearly," Sila grumbled. Their married life had been without any major showdown for the most part, a contrast to their initial days of knowing each other but that didn't mean there weren't things they struggled to agree on. Their value for money was one such topic. He wasn't a snob, far from it. In fact, Sila could vouch he was the most low-key trust fund baby. But his nonchalance regarding money raised its head in the most bizarre ways and when she was least expecting it to. Clearly, he had never struggled with it, that much Sila could gather. On the other hand, she was prudent when it came to finances. She had to be. She had been earning her own money since university sophomore year and knew the hassle that came with it.

"I kept the occasion in mind."

Sila was confused. "What occasion?"

"Sam and Lina's patch up."

Sila didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This man. "They haven't patched up yet."

"They're going to, eventually."

Sila checked the stove flame and made her way outside. Aahil followed her. "I can't return all that, now, you know but I'll be careful the next time."

Sila sat down on the couch. "You say that every time."

"I mean it this time."

"Let's see." She kept a straight face but couldn't for long when he literally scooped her up in his arms. "What the hell!"

"Just making room for myself." He said, taking her seat, with her on his lap.

"You're such a jerk."

"Tell me something new." He mumbled, running a finger along the length of her neck. His other hand slipped beneath her shirt. She arched her back, suddenly aware and bothered by their proximity. "We have our food on the stove." She warned.

"We also have almost half an hour till it's cooked."

"I'm all sweaty and so are you." She tried to sound reasonable but the next moment she was on her back. A shriek left her mouth when his deft fingers tickled her.

"This is cheating!" She shouted, alternating between laughing and cursing him. "I fucking hate you!"

"Or you're just disappointed that instead of more interesting things, I'm doing this."

"Me when I lie."

"That you do all the time, Jhooti."

"And you're still an imbecile."

"Sorry, can't hear you over all this noise."

"Are your only two brain cells rolling around in your skull?"

He raised an eyebrow as he hovered over her. "For someone on my complete mercy, you for sure have a sharp tongue."

He diminished the distance between them and the next moment, the tickling stopped. More important things and all that jazz.

It was after fifteen minutes or so when Sila wiggled out of his hold, out of breath, his touch leaving a trail behind whenever his fingers and lips had touched her.

"If the Biryani turns out to be worse than I expect it to be, I will sue you."

"Charges? The poor lad was pleasing his wife." His cheek was infuriating.

"Does the wife look pleased? Ten points for guessing."

"She's glowing, actually." He pushed her hair out of her face. Sila couldn't take her eyes off him, not when he was looking at her with so much tenderness.

"Ten points?" He asked.

"Twenty." She replied.

Aahil leaned against the couch as Sila sat up. His eyes went toward their photo wall. His and her childhood pictures were a new addition there. Sila had specifically gotten those from his mother.

"That picture wasn't taken in Karachi, right?"

Sila followed his gaze, her childhood photograph coming to her focus. "You've got a keen eye." She looked lost in memories. "It was taken on Rawal Lake. MHNP was close by and I loved it there so we frequented it a lot."

Aahil was surprised. "You were born in Islamabad?" Sila smiled and nodded.

"Yes, born and spent the first ten years of my life there."

"I'm very interested in knowing more about it."

She shifted closer, suddenly excited to share this tidbit with him. "Mama was a true Karachiite, born and raised here. Johar girlie through and through. Even as a teenager, she was very certain about her goals in life. When she couldn't get to her dream university here in Karachi, she opted for her second option, which was in Islamabad. It wasn't easy, seeing she was the first girl from her family who'd go so far away to study but my Nana had complete faith in her. Not caring for log kya kahay gye, he sent her to Islamabad."

She looked so proud of her mother's achievement. The childlike wonder on her face, Aahil wanted to commit it to his memory.

"Long story short, she started her academic journey there and that's when she met my father, her class fellow." She giggled as if this was the best part of this anecdote. "They started as academic rivals, sort of, though Mama always stated that Baba had nothing on her. She was the topper of their batch. Then they became friends and after a while, more than that. When I tell you, Aahil that their love story was the most fulfilling one I know, I'm not kidding. I'm not sure if they were just lucky or masters of turning things their way. Throughout their university phase, they excelled in every field along with being committed to each other and after that, they involved their families. Nana and Dada met, discussed the proposal, and gave the green signal. In about two months, Mama and Baba were married. Just like that. And we are talking mid-90s here. I still find it so surreal that they had such an easy love story."

She paused and glanced in the kitchen's way. "Should we check that?"

Aahil shook his head. "We still have fifteen minutes more. Continue the story. I'm fully invested here."

"Yeah, okay. Well, after marriage they settled in Islamabad. Baba had gotten a job there and Mama had to do double-juggle, her masters, and a part-time hustle. After a year they had me, a little beautiful family."

She held his hand without even noticing. "That was the best phase of my life, Aahil, even though, my memories of it are hazy. Mama, Baba, me, and our small place. I've never seen a couple more in love than my parents. But now yours are a close second to me. Maybe the reason I warmed up to them so easily was that this ease between two people wasn't new to me. I had seen it for a huge chunk of my life. We were very happy in Islamabad. Not saying that we struggled when we came to Karachi. Not really. But there was something in that house or in that phase of life that still feels out of this world to me. My paternal family lived in Murree, so I used to see my Dada and Dado regularly. Both of them were such amazing people. Dada was also in the military, like Abu and Muaz Bhai, almost all men in the family were except my Baba. Whenever Abu or Dada traveled to Islamabad, my Dado, and Ammi would tell them to bring me along on their way back and they would. I'd cause a racket if my parents refused. I was pampered by them all. The only girl in almost two generations of just boys. It was awesome while it lasted."

She got up to check on the Biryani. Aahil followed suit. "Then?"

"Then? We moved to Karachi because of Baba's transfer and the distance was too much so slowly things changed completely. Dada passed and after a while, Dado also did. I got busy in my studies. Islamabad and Murree became distant memories. That's it I guess."

"What about your place there?"

Sila took out some amount of the Biryani on the plate and gestured for him to taste it. He obliged, the aroma was too tempting to refuse.

"It's delicious."

"I concur even though I had no expectations."

He high-fived and she reciprocated it. Their first joint cooking venture was a success.

"About our place there, it's a small flat but it's home and after my parents, it's mine. When we moved to Karachi, we did try to visit once or twice but then it became impossible to take time out."

"And after your parents passed, did you ever go back?"

Sila leaned against the counter, looking at anywhere but him. He placed the plate on the table and reached her side. His fingers stroked her arm and traveled up her camisole to cup her face.

How can a touch give you butterflies and comfort at the same time? How can it be heated and feature light simultaneously? She'd love to find out but she had an idea she wouldn't be able to.

"I don't think I can visit it. When I severely miss my parents, it's almost instinctual, the urge to go there but I can't do that. I wish to go there when I'm the happiest, so I won't blemish the happy memories. It's rather pathetic, I know, childish even—"

"It's not."

"Maybe."

"It certainly is not."

She leaned into his touch. "Guess, I'll take your word for it."

They set the table as Sila told him about her childhood in Islamabad and he was all ears.

"My curiosity and enjoyment aside, all this has cleared one thing for me as well."

Sila looked at him questionably as she took a spoonful of the Biryani.

"The bar is insanely high." His grin could as well be a grimace. Sila hiked her shoulders, in complete agreement. "Of course. Ten years into their marriage but my parents still used to go on Friday night dates. Regularly, might I add. The soup kiosk in Johar close to my Mamu's place was their favorite. But here we are, you are obviously waiting for some divine intervention to take me on one."

Aahil choked on his water but she kept on staring at him, resting her head on her palms.

"Shit! We never went on one."

"Finally, he understands."

She drawled and went back to her plate. But food was the last thing on his mind.

He had to take his wife on a date and if anything, the bar was fucking high.

Just his luck that both his parents and parents-in-law were his wife's favorite couples.

𝄞

Continued in the next part