Osama's project with Shani and Neha had come to its desired culmination. The principal shooting was done and they had already moved to post-production. The last day on the sets was bittersweet for the whole cast and crew. Osama was content, for the most part, as it was another feather in his cap.

It was another thing that he couldn't enjoy the last of a good filming experience because of the absence of a particular stylist.

She didn't attend, even though she should've. Her direct link was with Rimsha and her abhorrence for unnecessary drama made her keep her distance.

But for how long could she do that? Not for that long when Zeb Siddiqui wanted to celebrate her son's achievement and she had thrown a party for that, inviting all of their close friends and acquaintances.

Osama leaned against the wall, looking around at the familiar crowd. All the people here had come for him. It was probably unlike him to not feel grateful for their presence but what to do when his eyes sought just one person and she was yet to make an appearance?

It was without any doubt that she'd come. It was just luck that his mother was one of those people Alina could never say no to.

"Why did no one tell me that the movie we all are here to celebrate is a tragic romance?"

Mahad stood next to him, looking confused. Osama didn't grace his question with a reply, knowing too well what he was trying to do.

"We are not here to celebrate the movie, but Sam, and going by that, the vibe is fitting."

The best friend, just what he needed. Osama glared at Aahil who shrugged and sipped on his mocktail.

"Chin up, Sam, or you're going to scare your guests away."

"You two will still stay, eating my brain so what is even the point?"

"The point is," Aahil handed him a glass of juice. "That you need to act like a proper host. You remind me of those toddlers who wail and cry, bringing the house down while their mum apologetically plays the perfect host."

"Jahangir here is well-versed in toddlers. Do you want to tell us something?"

"Yeah, bugger off, respectfully. That's the only thing I want to tell you."

Osama opened his mouth to end the ensuing banter. As he was about to whack them both into oblivion, the host mannerism be damned, he got a glimpse of what he was yearning for all evening or every evening for years.

Alina and Sila made their way toward where the three of them stood. Sila was the one talking, Alina just nodded along, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. The next moment, her eyes collided with him and it seemed as if everything else lost its meaning.

"You are late." Aahil wasted no time in snaking a hand around his wife's waist.

"Don't act like I didn't text you that I got held up at work." She settled his collar as she answered him. Their ease was both cute and endearing. Alina stood close to Mahad, in direct view of Osama. "Hi." She greeted meekly. To whom it was directed, none of them needed to be told.

"Hey." Osama gave her a slight smile.

Aahil hugged Alina sideways while Sila and Mahad were busy in their conversation. Osama was yet to utter a word more.

"It's good you guys threw the part now, Sam. Otherwise these two," Mahad pointed at Aahil and Sila. "Wouldn't have been able to attend."

"Yeah, I heard you both are going to work together once again," Alina exclaimed. Mahad made a face at that. "I told you, Lina. At least cite your source."

"My bad. This fella imparted me with his endless wisdom." Alina rolled her eyes.

"Which he acquired by being a nosy sleaze," Aahil muttered, none too gently but Mahad wouldn't be Mahad if he felt even a bit ashamed. He was good at networking and old ladies loved his charm, it wasn't his fault.

"Can you two give it a rest?" Sila asked, looking between Mahad and Aahil.

"I said and did nothing." Mahad raised his hand but his innocent facade could fool no one.

If they felt that Osama was more silent than usual, they didn't make it obvious. He was attuned to Alina's every movement, his eyes never leaving her. She was also well aware of his unwavering gaze. Sila and Aahil exchanged a look with Mahad but before they could make an excuse and leave them alone, the voice of Zeb Siddiqui put an end to their scheming.

"Osama?" She gestured for her son to come to her. He left his place. "I'll be right back."

Alina saw him as he joined his parents and some of their friends. When she finally looked away, three pairs of eyes were trained on her.

"What?" Alina whispered-yelled when their questioning stares didn't falter.

"We thought this was," Mahad pointed between her and Osama, "sorted."

"Who's we?" Aahil asked him but when he looked at Alina, his words were gentle. "You two talked, Lina. Didn't you?"

"We did."

"Then what the hell is stopping you both?" Mahad, once again. It was Sila's turn to grimace this time. She gave Mahad a "Are you for real?" scowl. He had to shut up after that.

"I think we both needed time to think things through which we did. I did, yes. I can't speak for him but knowing him I know he must've come to a conclusion as well."

"What's your decision, then?" Sila held her hand. Alina smiled at the gesture.

"I want us to try it once again." Her voice lacked the conviction as if she herself was coming to terms with this. As if voicing her heart's desire was the most difficult thing to do.

Aahil was the first to move and hug her sideways. "You have no idea how happy that makes us all."

"Exactly. We've been here for years! I was going to throw a bitch fit if the results were not in our favor."

"Dramatic much?" Sila laughed. Mahad smirked at her. "You're one to talk."

It was Sila's turn to narrow her eyes. "Who are you bribing to get all these facts?"

"Sadly, I'm not the one to broadcast my ways."

Sila had an idea to whom should she turn her weapons too but that nosy nikammi wasn't there.

"When do you plan to tell Sam about this?" Aahil asked Alina who craned her neck in Osama's direction. "Tonight preferably, if I'm lucky."

But luck was a fickle thing. They all saw, with different ranges of annoyance, Rimsha approaching Osama and engaging him in small talk.

*

There, across the room, Osama regarded Rimsha with a gaze that was not friendly but it wasn't hostile either.

"Say something." Rimsha finally broke the silence between them. Osama pursed his lips, tracing a line on the scruff on his face, which was something he did when he was pissed or in a quandary. Rimsha wouldn't know that. A person standing on the other side of the room had these quirks on the tips of her fingers.

"I heard you but don't you think your apology is misplaced? I wasn't the one you misbehaved with. That's Alina."

Rimsha sighed. "I'll do that shortly, don't you worry about it. She was actively ignoring me these past few days so, I couldn't get to it earlier."

I wonder why would she do that. Osama wanted to pose his scathing query but he held back. Rimsha played with her fingers. "I also wanted to talk to you about something else."

Osama settled his glasses on the bridge of his nose, waiting for her to continue. Rimsha finally looked up and met his questioning gaze. "I got to know about you and Alina. Your past, precisely."

She saw the changing expressions on his face and rushed to clarify. "It wasn't your mother."

Osama looked clearly pissed. "You don't have to tell me that. I know my mother and I also know she'd never discuss my personal life with anyone else."

His sharp words weren't unexpected for Rimsha. She had braced herself for more but Osama was someone who knew how to rein in his fury, his nature didn't allow him to cause a scene.

"Mutual friends of friends, the same circle is quite helpful. But that's not the point here." She had the confidence of someone who knew exactly what she wanted.

"What did your 'sources' exactly tell you?"

Rimsha took a step forward. "So much but the crux is, she left you. She broke up with you because of her reasons. I don't know what those were and it's none of my business as well to delve into that."

She looked right into his eyes. "I like you, Osama. It's no news. Everyone who knows me knows this fact as well. I'm sure of it, there's nothing holding me back. Don't you deserve this clarity from someone who has feelings for you? Who, no matter what, won't leave your hand. Who is standing here, waiting for just one affirmation from your end. Who—"

"Wait a second, Rimsha." Osama held up one hand, effortlessly stopping her. "I'd really like it if you don't talk about yourself this way. Especially when you don't know anything at all. I know what I deserve. Thank you very much."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You're making it sound like you are privy to everything about a relationship you got to know through rumor mill and gossip mongers. That's real mature." His voice turned bitter. His eyes found Alina at a fair distance. She sat with Sila, her shoulders drooped, expressions uncertain. Osama felt a sudden urge to get done with this conversation. He peered his eyes away from Alina, albeit with difficulty, and focused back on Rimsha.

"I don't feel the same way for you. I told you that before and I'm telling you again."

"But that doesn't mean you can't feel the same way for me!" She was desperate. Osama would've felt remorseful but he had never led her on. He had always been clear about his intentions.

"I can't. Not when I feel the same way about someone else, have always felt this way for only that one person. You're not the only one with clarity about your feelings, Rimsha. I know what I want from life, and who I want in my life."

He touched her shoulder gently. "Don't make this difficult for both of us. When you know it's futile. You can do way better than that."

He took a step back. There was no speech of 'you deserve better than me' because he had never thought she deserved him, not because he was a stuck-up loser, more so because he had his eyes and heart already occupied. There was not even a smidge of room for someone else.

His eyes once again went in the direction of where Alina sat, only to find Sila there, looking at him, and pointing toward the exit.

It was the time to fall in step with his heart's desire.

*

"Do you really want me to drop you home?"

Alina glared at him. "I never asked you to do that. I came outside to call a ride but you had to be my knight in a shining car."

Mahad grinned. "Hide your claws, Lina."

Her glare only intensified. "Get lost, Mahad." But instead of marching off, she leaned against his car, her hands folded on her front, a faraway look on her face. "Coming here wasn't a good idea." She said more to herself than to him.

Mahad didn't agree with that. "Far from it. Everything was going good but Rimsha had to drop from the sky."

Silence stretched between them. Alina traced an invisible line on the bonnet. Mahad waited for her to say something but when she didn't, he held her by her shoulder, hugging her sideways.

"Come on, Lina. Don't look so dejected."

"I'm not—"

"You're. Don't lie to me."

She snuggled into him, seeking the warmth she'd always found in his embrace. "He's looking good."

Mahad laughed. "Wearing your favorite color, hair styled as you like, and don't forget the glasses. Your weakness."

Alina punched his chest lightly. "You're such an ass."

"And you're nauseously in love."

"Am I interrupting something?" Both of them looked up at the interruption. Osama's less-than-pleased expressions were met by Alina's poker face and Mahad's devilish grin.

"Yes, my and Lina's quality time."

"Good thing the time's up and quality expired." Osama took hurried steps and stood between them. Alina was obscured behind his back while he put some distance between Mahad and himself. "Get lost, Lashari."

"Your girlfriend has hijacked my car."

Osama looked behind him, gently pulled Alina away from Mahad's car, and held her hand. Mahad bit his lip to prevent the laughter that threatened to burst out. "Actually, I'm good inside. I'm not going back without dinner."

"Whatever. Just get away from my sight."

"Your love for me has always been my guiding light in life." He saluted Osama, and deciding that it was enough chaos for the day, made his way inside the house.

Making sure they were alone, Osama finally turned to her. She was already attentive toward the meager distance between them. Osama covered that as well, making her take a sharp intake of breath.

"You left me but you didn't fall out of love with me."

It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. His arms were by his side, just a slight movement, and he'd be able to hold her.

The first step.

Years back, she was the one to take it toward their end so it was only fitting that she bridged this distance first as well.

That's what she did, holding him by his shoulders. Her hands traveled up and cupped his face. "I left you because I didn't want to fall out of love with you, Osama. And I never did. Not then. Not now. Not ever."

He bent his head, so he could see right in her eyes, containing a world of their own, the epicenter of which was him.

"I don't want any closure, Alina. I want you. I want us."

A tear rolled down her cheek. He wiped it with his gentle fingers. "If only you want me as well. If only—"

Alina shook her head and raised on her tiptoes. "I do! I want us! That's the only thing I want."

Denying Alina Asfandyar something was impossible for Osama Siddiqui. So how could he now? Kissing her forehead, taking his sweet time, he brought her close. Alina melted into their embrace.

Adrift for years, barefoot, torn and shattered.

She was now standing outside her home, under the soft glow of the street lamp, the yellow hue, the silhouette, guiding her inside.

She could already feel the warmth, even though everything around her was frozen into place.

*

"Okay, that's enough. Leave them alone, now." Sila pushed Mahad away from the door.

"The fun part has just begun but you're probably right." He agreed, getting away from there, even though he was invested in Alina and Osama's reconciliation. Aahil remained silent but the contentment was so easy to spot. He hadn't graced Mahad with one of his scathing comebacks for a while now, that was telling enough.

𝄞

Scratching his pen on the paper, he signed another important document and handed it to his secretary. "Is that it?"

The woman nodded in affirmation. "Yes, sir. Now the only task left on your schedule for today is your meeting with the,"

"Shah Group." He echoed.

She nodded. "Yes. Their delegation will be here any minute now."

Mahad checked the time on his watch. "You should leave then. Double-check the arrangements. I'll be there in a while to welcome them."

"Okay, sir." She made a beeline for the door. He ran a hand on his face. It had been a packed day at the office and even though the end hour was upon him, he still had an important meeting to head. Nothing he wasn't used to so, without thinking much, he rose from his seat.

His phone rang at the same time.

Usually, with an important work commitment schedule in mere minutes, he would've ignored everything else, but seeing the name flashing on the screen, his curiosity was piqued.

"Hello?"

"Hey! Are you still in your office?" Haleh asked, out of breath. That had Mahad even more confused.

"Yes. Where else would I be? But why do you ask? And why do you sound like that?"

"Might as well conduct an interview or an inquiry!" She grumbled. "I'm here with your painting. Just got off right outside your building and about the huffing and puffing, well, I hate this city's traffic and public transport."

Mahad walked to the glass window and looked outside. Sure enough, she stood at the curb, trying to balance her tote, her phone, and the packed painting.

"You should have let me know that you'll stop by today."

"Well, I'm letting you know now."

Now, wasn't a good time. He had a meeting he couldn't skip. Even though, he couldn't find himself as ready for it as he was about five minutes ago.

"Do you plan on keeping me standing here all day?" Haleh's annoyed voice put him right into action.

"Of course, not. First thing, get inside the premises."

"On it. As if I needed pointers for that."

Mahad saw her making her way inside with difficulty. He sighed. "Come to my office. I have a meeting in about two minutes but it won't take long. Can you, say, wait for 30 minutes? 45 maximum?"

"That depends. Are you going to pay me today?"

"Of course. What kind of question is that?"

"An important one. Well, I can wait. Just treat me with your best refreshments."

"On it, Ma'am. Anything else?"

"I'll let you know if there is."

She disconnected the call with mirth in her voice. Neither of them questioned why in a giant office building, the only place she could wait for him was his own room. They were too occupied with other things to pay heed to this kind of trivial issue.

As soon as the call ended, Mahad dialed the reception.

"Yes, sir?"

"A woman just entered the building with a packed painting. Get her some help with that."

Or else she'll ruin her own hard work and somehow that'd be my fault. He thought. The receptionist got to the assigned task right away. In about three minutes, he found her getting out of the elevator on his floor.

"Your staff is very nice. I hope you're playing them well." She said as soon as she entered his room. Mahad took the painting from her hand wordlessly and brought her to the sitting section of the huge space.

"Make yourself comfortable and if you need anything, don't hesitate. Refreshments and all." He pointed to the cordless and picked up a bundle of files from his table. Haleh saw his movements with interest. Her timing couldn't have been any more wrong but she couldn't possibly do anything about it.

"All the best." She called after him as he made his way out of the door. He looked behind him, with a smile on his face but she had already gotten busy with her phone. Henry Cavill's reels. Yeah.

Thirty minutes, an assortment of refreshments and some 50 Henry Cavill fancams later, Haleh leaned into the plush sofa. He said it'd take a maximum of 45 minutes so going by his words, there was still time for him to return. Up until then, she had kept herself occupied, not giving in to the urge to snoop around. She might be a nosy nikammi according to Sila, but she also knew how wrong it'd look to take advantage of someone's chivalry. He had trusted her with his space. She could keep that trust. No biggie. That was another thing the the more prominent details were hard to miss.

But the universe really didn't like her behaving for once, it seemed.

The silent office space was filled with a ringtone the next moment. Haleh's phone was in her hand so it was no rocket science that Mr. CEO had left his on the worktable.

She didn't get up from the seat, willing the phone to go silent on its own but whoever was on the other end, seemed to be in a hurry. The phone rang once again. Making a face Haleh stood up. It was not on her. Whenever she tried acting against her chaotic rep, something had to happen to cancel it.

Bending on the table, she saw his phone lit up with a call from someone named 'Gina'. Haleh was about to answer it, just to tell the other person that he was stuck in a meeting but before she could do that, the phone screen went blank. The call remained unanswered.

Haleh shrugged and stood in the middle of the room. Now, that she had left her spot, she looked around appreciatively. The interior of the room spoke of his taste which wasn't bad if she was being honest but all that took a backseat when she finally moved toward the one thing that had her interest the moment she walked inside here.

His photo shelf was minimalist and had a small collection of some important moments captured by the camera, moments that were definitely important to him, outside Yale School of Management, with Aahil and Osama, some were from his business endeavors but those with his family were the ones Haleh couldn't look away from.

It was an old habit. In school, university, or anywhere else, she was always fascinated by her friends' anecdotes related to their families, their memories enclosed in photo albums. She didn't have much of that to tell them. Her childhood memories were scarce, not enough to entertain a group of friends for even weeks. Those incidents that featured her parents, she could count them on her fingers. There wasn't much. The tragedy of it all used to make her cry herself to sleep every night when she was a child but she was no longer that anymore.

But the childlike wonder, upon finding a happy family was still there and by the pictures in his office, Mahad had one beautiful family. His parents, another couple she was sure were close relatives, a young woman who was with him during the paint incident, and a handsome young man.

Haleh was still lost in his world when she heard the unmistakable click of the door. She turned around and saw him already inside his office.

"That took longer than I had expected." He exclaimed. There was no way in hell he hadn't known her inspection of his family pictures but even if he noticed that, he didn't comment on it.

"Your phone kept on ringing."

"Ahan?" He picked it up from the table and smiled lightly. Haleh regarded that with suspicion. He saw her looking and immediately straightened. "That's Gina. My sister. She's pissed at me hence the incessant calls."

Haleh shrugged nonchalantly but unknown to her, her scowl had eased. Mahad looked behind her at the photo shelf. All traces of his grandfather vanished from there. That's what he did in the time it took her to reach his office. That was another thing he hated every second of hiding the photographs he had with his grandfather.

Haleh followed her gaze. "I think I've found the most handsome man in your family."

Mahad grinned, his inner turmoil forgotten. "I get that a lot."

"I would be as happy if my brother surpassed me in looks. Jealousy among siblings is not healthy."

His grin dropped immediately. Haleh pointed at his picture with Armaghan for emphasis. "I got it right, didn't I? Not the most handsome in the family bit, that's self-explanatory. I'm talking about him being your brother."

"Yeah. That's Rony, short of Armaghan. He's my cousin-brother, a royal pain, and Gina's husband." He stated matter of factly.

Haleh grimaced. "She's your sister-in-law and she saw me throwing paint at you."

Mahad beamed. "Exactly. I had witnesses."

"Doesn't matter. I did nothing wrong."

"Tell that to my laundry guy. Dude was about to get a heart attack seeing the state of my pristine shirt."

Haleh covered the length of his office, him right behind her. She stood next to the covered painting. "Here. I tried to be as specific with the directions, that's another thing you gave me next to nothing."

"I trust your taste. Now, move, and let me have a look."

"All yours." She stepped aside. Mahad picked the painting and peeled the layers of its covering with utmost care.

As soon as the artwork was in front of him in its entirety, he took a step back to have a better and more thorough look. Haleh gulped nervously but didn't utter a word.

Waves of an ocean with a mind of their own, amidst a storm, above them, the cover of clouds burst in the middle and the bright rays of the sun shone through. Hope in a hazy place, relief of light in the throes of darkness.

Mahad looked at the painting and then at her hands, the fingers of which were intertwined, fiddling with each other.

Those hands had created this masterpiece. His astonishment gave way to a full-fledged smile. "Are you sure you're not a pro artist?"

For the first time in his presence, Haleh couldn't find the right words. The flush on her face was amusing for Mahad.

"This is better than what I could ever ask for."

Not knowing how to respond to his genuine praise, she coughed. "Then pay up."

Mahad chuckled and went to his table. Opening a drawer, he took out an envelope from inside and handed it to her. Haleh took it from gingerly but as soon as she peeked at the amount on the cheque, her eyes widened.

"Holy shit!"

Mahad appeared confused. "What?"

"That's a lot of money!"

"Isn't it what people pay you normally for a painting of this size and quality?"

They don't. They usually try to finagle their way through my creative process by finding faults in it but that's a story for another time. She thought bitterly. Mahad had seen the conflict on her face, that's why he took a step forward.

"When we discussed pricing, you said your work will speak for you. I think you were absolutely right. It spoke to me. I paid what I thought was somewhat suitable for something this grand. That's it."

Haleh clutched the envelope. Finally, a smile reached her lips. "My skincare for the next month is sorted, thanks to you."

"Well, glad to be of any help. Skin care is important."

"Vital, actually." She corrected as she moved to gather her things. There was a bounce in her steps, the happiness radiated off her in waves.

"I'm off then. It was nice working with you. Do hit me up whenever you need another artwork, especially if you intend to pay just like you did now. Have to go home and relax. Then we'll Facetime Sila. She's leaving for Bhurban tomorrow. Now that I got reminded of it,"

She halted her blabbering and faced him once again. "You spilled to her."

Mahad was taken aback. "What exactly?"

"That she's dramatic. I told that you in confidence."

"You told that to me in the steady flow of your blabbering."

She raised her finger. "You said I'm being dramatic and I said that's not me that's Sila."

"You were the one to call me!"

"I was working on YOUR painting and I felt stuck!"

"Well, the painting turned out fantastic so you were worrying over nothing."

Haleh canted her eyes at him. It happened a few days back. The more time the painting took, the more panicked she grew. So much so, that she ended up calling him. It was HIS painting after all. Amal had things to say. What kind of client-costumer relation was this but Haleh tuned her out for her own sanity.

"Okay, well. Whatever. Thank you. I should really leave."

Saying that she took hurried steps toward the door when he called her.

"Haleh?"

She stopped and looked at him questionably. He looked ready to leave as well. "The office hours are over. I'm heading home."

"So?" She asked confused. Mahad sighed as if she was missing an obvious point.

"I can drop you at Wadia House."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because the economy is bad and we should save every penny we can."

That seemed to convince her. Smart. "Okay, but in this way, I get to save money. What do you get?"

Mahad's eyes on her spoke volumes, so much that he himself wasn't well versed in. "That's for me to know."

"As you say." She went out of the office, him right behind her. She hadn't asked him what his plan was with the painting. He himself wasn't sure but one thing he was certain of, it wouldn't stay here, for everyone to see.

It was too precious to him for that.

It was after a while when he stopped his car outside Wadia House. Haleh unclasped her seatbelt and turned in her seat. "When we went to Aahil and Sila's place and you said the carrot cake was good, did you mean it?"

It was a trick question. Too bad Mahad had no intentions of failing it this time around.

"I did."

A huge grin broke out of Haleh's face. "Okay then. I baked one just today. It has the perfect shape and texture, no rusk or brick, a proper cake. Do you want some?"

Mahad couldn't say no. Not that he wanted to. Not that he knew how to.

So, he let her take her inside Wadia House. Haleh was in charge, not a trace of annoyance in demeanor. He silently enjoyed every second of it, with a knowing grin gracing his face. That was a first.

𝄞

"We have known that a hotel was under construction there. That's been Billu's trademark excuse for a while now whenever he's late but never once did I think it will be Jahan."

Sila smiled at Naheed through the screen as she folded her clothes into a pile. "They'll invite you all to the inaugural. Be ready to get a call from Uncle Faseeh or Faran Bhai."

"I'm already looking forward to that but won't you all visit us? I mean Bhurban isn't that far. Your in-laws have never been to our place. In fact, even you and Aahil are yet to make a trip to Murree."

Sila suddenly looked uncertain. "I'm not sure, Ammi. We all will be there for work commitments. I don't think we'll have the time."

Naheed nodded understandably but Sila could see she was slightly dejected by the clear refusal.

It was true that Faseeh and the rest of the Jahangirs wouldn't have the time for it but the same wasn't true for her and Aahil. If she wanted to, she'd definitely be able to make a detour to her ancestral home. Her schedule wasn't as hectic and for Aahil, taking some out wouldn't be difficult as well.

But the if remained. If she wanted to and she had never wanted that. She could count the number of times she'd been to Murre after her parents' passing.

Twice.

The prospect always made her uncomfortable. It was no longer her grandfather's home, the place where her father was born and raised, where the memories of his childhood and teenage years were scattered everywhere.

It was now Ikram Ayaz's house, every nook and cranny spoke of it. Ikram Ayaz, her father's elder brother, Abu. And the cold war between him and Sila was no mystery.

"We won't have the time but it doesn't mean we can't make it." Aahil dropped himself close to her, waving at Ammi into the screen.

"Will you? Really?" Naheed asked, her hopes at an all-time high. Aahil made a face as if the mere idea of contemplating it was absurd. "Of course, Ammi. The rest of the Jahangirs are busy but Sila and I will be there. You mentioned Halwa Puri once, remember? I'm looking forward to that."

"Of course! Now we are talking. Sila's slander of Halwa Puri had made me totally hopeless."

Aahil couldn't believe that. He gave his wife an incredulous look. "You don't like Halwa Puri?"

"I don't hate it but it gets stuffy so I'm no fan." She clarified, not pleased to see her husband and her Ammi teaming up.

The call ended after a while. Sila moved to place her clothes in the suitcase. Aahil came to help her and she let him. She was aware of his searching gaze but tried her best to ignore it.

"You're okay with the plan, right? If not, we can change it. Ammi and Abu will be there at the inaugural so it's not like we won't meet them."

There he was. Sila smiled as she faced him. "It's okay. I'm game."

"Sure?"

She placed her hands on his chest. "Yeah. Now go pack your stuff. I know you haven't done that yet." She pushed him toward the closet.

"We are supposed to do this together."

"No. We are not."

"I help you and you help me. The secret to a successful marriage."

"Just say you hate packing. I can't understand how did you travel so much in the past. All you did today was procrastinate."

"Travel is fun. Packing is hell."

"Not really. I love organizing stuff for travel. That's another thing I get to do that very rarely. 9-5 doesn't allow you to quench the wanderlust."

Aahil placed his clothes in a haphazard pile next to her sorted bundles. She made a face, standing with her arms akimbo. He grumbled under his breath but got to it wordlessly.

"So, you do like traveling?"

Sila nodded. "Yes. But I've never gotten the chance to explore even Pakistan fully. One day, I hope so."

"Do you have a travel bucket list?"

"No. My liking for it isn't that serious. I'd like to visit some two or three places in my lifetime. If I'm lucky."

"And they are?"

Sila gave it a thought. "Prague, Grindelwald, and Budapest. Pakistan's northern areas as well. That's it."

She opened his suitcase to deposit his clothes and other essentials there. He flashed her a knowing smile but proceeded to work alongside her.

"I've been to Prague and Budapest."

"I know."

He laughed lightly. "Of course, you do. You stalked my Instagram remember?"

She wanted to wipe that cheeky grin off his face but he was right anyway. Not her finest move but what could she do about it now?

"We should get done with the packing and call it a day. You have an early morning flight to Islamabad. Can't have you arriving late and getting a scolding from Uncle Faseeh."

Sila reminded him and he nodded obediently. Even though both of them had the same destination, they were to travel separately, her with her team at EFvent and he, with his father and brother.

Almost all of her colleagues knew by then that she was Jahangirs' daughter-in-law but Sila being a thorough professional kept this fact as an obscure detail about her. She was right in doing so but he had his own views and one of those was simple, traveling together to the same place wouldn't be the end of the world.

Too bad she didn't budge.

Not so bad that he knew how to have his way. After all, he had been doing this all his life.

His I'm-on-some-kinda-shit grin stayed intact even when Sila snuggled close to him, already deep in dreamland.

𝄞

Continued in the next part