Checking the time on her phone, Sila locked her car and hurriedly made her way through the gates. She was supposed to meet Sonia today, they had decided a suitable time but Sila's work commitments held her up and now, she was running late—way to go.

The shrubbery and rose plantation covered the walkway on both sides. The manicured grass went as far as the eye could go. The stone pathway turned into a raised platform and ended in a stone canopy. Columns flanked it and inside were ornate stone benches to sit. Standing at the edge, the running city beyond, with its high-rise buildings, seemed as alive as ever but as a distance echo, a rarity in the metropolis that never seemed to take a breather. The sun was preparing to call it a day, its glow painted the horizon in a pleasant canary orange, and birds marked the scenery as flapping silhouettes, returning to their abodes.

Sila had always found a peaceful sanctuary in this place. It was fascinating that a city, filled to the brim with chaos could still possess and retain the peace some places offered, where the time seemed to flow in a slow succession, and life problems weren't as daunting, even for a short while.

Sonia was standing in the arch, feeding the pigeons on the other side. They swooped down to pluck the bits in their beaks and returned to the water basin they were crowding.

As Sila entered the canopy, Sonia's eyes fell on her. Sila gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. My boss called a meeting without prior notice."

"I was about to throw the tantrum of the century but I guess, your corporate plight just saved you from my wrath," Sonia remarked good-naturedly, making Sila chuckle.

"I don't think tantrums are your to-go method as it is, but you can try." She sat down on the stone bench. The evening air helped her considerably in feeling at ease.

Sonia paused, momentarily surprised. Sila found it peculiar and waited for her to explain.

"Would you believe me if I said that your husband, more or less, told me the same when we first met?"

Sila wasn't surprised. Just amused. "Oh, I believe you. I'm also not shocked that he was late to meet you the first time." A small laugh escaped her lips to punctuate her words.

Sonia's eyes twinkled with mirth as she caressed the head of a pigeon. The bird was comfortable with Sonia's touch, picking on the food from her palm.

"You are a regular here." Sila pointed out. Sonia nodded, looking around as if reminiscing the memories the years prior had bestowed with.

"This place is special to me. It was here I bumped into Cyrus during one of my evening strolls. He refused to leave my side after that so, I took pity on him and married him." She placed her hand on the wall, chuckling already. "He proposed here. I was yet to say yes when his knee gave up on him and he lost the balance. But these frivolous things don't perturb my husband. He grinned at me as he lay on the floor and said see, I've fallen hard. Everything vouches for this."

Sila laughed along with her. Cyrus' loud personality had always been a plus point but it was good to know his goofiness was so cherished by his wife.

"Did you help him get up or just resorted to say yes?"

Sonia gave it a thought. "I had to do the former. His lying there was endearing to me but we had started to garner weird stares."

It wasn't hard to imagine, if anything this anecdote cemented that Cyrus and Sonia hadn't changed their ways after years of being married. They were as much fools in love as Sonia's retelling of their proposal suggested.

Once the laughter subsided, they fell into a comfortable silence. Sila fiddled with her phone case. Then she looked at Sonia. "If someone told me a few weeks back that I'll be hanging out with you and Cyrus, I'd have called them silly."

Sonia pretended to be offended but Sila raised her hands. "I know, you'll say now I'm being silly but please, I occasionally get to meet my favorite Pakistani artist and his wife as if it's the most normal thing. For the sake of my teenage self, let me rejoice in this turn of events."

"Don't let Cyrus hear that. He'll have a field day." Sonia warned her. "Anyways, enough of me and him. You'll hear all about our shenanigans the more you meet us because that's our favorite thing to talk about anyway." She turned fully toward Sila. "Tell me more about yourself, Sila. You mentioned your family home in Parsi Colony. I'm the most excited to hear about it since I grew up around Saddar nearby."

That was all the prompting Sila needed to tell Sonia about Wadia House, the tranquility of Parsi Colony, Dinbanu's generous love, and their daily incursions around and into Saddar.

Sonia had her own anecdotes of the old city center, her childhood, schooling, and the cultural diversity she was a part of and had grown up surrounded with. Her Catholic parents had wanted her to pursue a career in academia, but she had realized very early on that music was her true calling.

"And then I met Cyrus. The great SRKish rom-com romance aside, our styles in music couldn't be more different."

Sila could vouch for that. The couple had collaborated a lot back then, even before they got married. Sonia was there in every album of Cyrus. Their voices complimented each other but Sonia's solo music was poles apart from Cyrus' discography.

"We often butted heads in our studio over minuscule things. There were a lot of differences. He was also used to having his way owing to the rage he was in those days, but I would stand my ground. Some of our most popular songs were created after some of our most intense arguments." She shrugged as if it was no biggie. "It worked out at the end and so, I'm not complaining."

"I'm glad you did what you had to. Personally, I love the ballads more than everything else, and I, for a fact know that you had a huge part to play in those songs, seeing they are similar to those in your solo albums."

The pleasant surprise on Sonia's face made Sila roll her eyes. "Really? You ruled the early 2010s music scene along with Cyrus. I'm going to assume you're trying to be modest."

Sonia's amusement remained intact.

"Oh, that I did but a bit of validation once in a while never hurts anyone."

Their chat meandered through a number of topics, Sila's job, her academic years, and Sonia's leisure activities these days as she wasn't working on anything new at the moment. They had left the stone canopy and were strolling the promenade, enjoying the evening breeze. At one point, Sonia appreciated Sila's bag, and from there, their favorite brands and accessory outlets also became part of their ongoing discussion.

They went near the gate. The lane across was lined with some of the best restaurants in the area. The bustling Karachi nightlife wasn't far from here, but both stayed put as if cherishing these movements of serenity.

"You're yet to tell me what album of mine is your favorite, Sila."

Sila paused to look at her but didn't have to think the response through.

"Of course, it's Windowseat. I still have its CD somewhere in my drawer."

Sila had expected her to go down memory lane and narrate another hilarious yet wholesome tale but Sonia's silence was subdued.

"Windowseat. Ah, that one." She finally spoke. Her words were jumbled together, torn edges lost in the time gone by as if she wanted to hold onto them but it was all sand on the seashore.

"That album was a sweet souvenir after the hiatus of some five years."

Sila vividly remembered Sonia announcing a break from music. She felt dejected but soon after, when her own life took a turn for the worse. She had to navigate her way through life without one and then both parents. Suddenly, she had to unlearn life as she had known it.

Sonia traced an invisible line on the iron gate. The rust dusted her finger. She brushed it away, a stark difference from her memories. They were as good as new. And Sonia wished for them to stay that way.

"Not many people know but the reason for that hiatus was not as simple. I hadn't just lost motivation." She bunched her fingers. "I had lost two babies in two years."

A gasp left Sila's mouth. Sonia tried her best to appear put together and succeeded to a great extent, but her eyes had suddenly turned glassy.

"I'm so sorry, Sonia." Sila held her hand. Her words were earnest. Sonia patted her cheek as if it weren't her loss they were talking about but Sila's.

"Don't be, sweets. They were my angels and they will always stay with me. It has taken me a lot of time to make my peace with their brief presence in my life."

She finally wiped a lone tear off her cheek. "It wasn't easy, especially in the beginning. The miscarriages and my further complications had broken me. Being a mother wasn't for me. I had lost my will to even live. Everything was in shambles. Cyrus was devastated by the loss and worried for my mental well-being. We were told we'd be lucky to come out of this together. Couples break apart the most when it's the loss of a child and we had two to mourn. But that's about true love, I guess. It's the most valiant during the most trying times. Cyrus held me and I held onto him. The pain was excruciating but together, we shared the wounds, the baggage was half mine to carry and half his to endure. With time, we made grief our pal. We had no other choice."

How strange, those faces that radiate the most joy, are hiding the most gruesome wounds. Still, they have so much to give to the world. Cyrus and Sonia were those people. As Sila searched Sonia's face, she didn't find any distress, just the love she had for her unborn babies, running down her cheeks which she wiped gently with the tissue Sila had offered her.

"Windowseat occurred to me during those restless nights. I kept it at bay. It wasn't in me to commit myself to music again, but Cyrus encouraged me to go for it. It took me a while to warm up to the idea and before long, I was fully into it. I stopped viewing it as an escape, rather it was my way of dealing with my pent-up emotions."

They resumed their walk. Sila didn't interrupt her. Nothing she'd say would be enough to tell Sonia how inspiring she was. So Sila listened on.

"You can say that album was special. I worked hard on it. Everything came from the heart. Cyrus was there every step of the way, but I was also fortunate enough to be joined by another person."

Her secretive smile slowed Sila's pace. Sonia continued. "It's not every day that you meet someone who understands what your project means to you. Who regards your emotional attachment to it with complete honesty and ingenuity and is as loyal to it. Who thinks music is more than music, it's an expression, it's an emotion. I was extremely lucky. I really was. It's my highest rated work for a reason and I owe that critical acclaim to that person."

Sonia stopped in the parking of the restaurant, only then did she realize Sila wasn't with her. She turned around and found her right behind.

Sila's face was unreadable. She took a tentative step forward. She was uncertain, yet completely confident of what she was about to ask.

"If my calculation is correct," She began. "Then he was at Berklee at that time. How did you two make it work while being in two different countries?"

It was Sonia's turn to be taken aback.

"Of course," She muttered after a while, transfixed by Sila, as if she was seeing her for the first time. Her shock left her slowly. It morphed into something so tender that Sila felt her heart melting then and there. Sonia held her by her arm. "Darling, why do you think I love that boy as my own? He's a sweetheart, that one, the most considerate young man out there."

Sila felt overwhelmed but she had an idea this wasn't it. Sonia's next words proved it to her.

"He gave a considerable amount of time out of his term weeks to Windowseat and was always connected to me through the internet and phone, sharing ideas, and hearing from me. Then he dedicated his whole winter break to my Studios when he came home for the holidays. The result? Windowseat, composed and produced by Sonia Alice Diaz and Aahil Jahangir."

Sila had expected it. She had figured that out the moment Sonia mentioned another person. But she wouldn't say the implication was any different.

Her bewilderment seemed to please Sonia greatly. She laughed as she patted her cheek, once again.

"Let's go. You don't want to miss the calzones here. The best in the whole of Karachi. And don't get me started on their pineapple cake..."

Sonia's voice trailed off but Sila wasn't sure if she heard half of what she had said, or understood the bits that did reach her.

She was, once again, swept across her feet even though, she was fully prepared for the impact. Courtesy of a certain man she was in love with.

𝄞

Mrs. Sabah Jahangir was an equable woman and was always appreciated for this quality of her temperament. Being a stuck-up Clifton Auntie was her nightmare. Not that she had to try not to be that. She was naturally nice, not a hint of artificial manners.

That might be the reason her joy and her anguish were both so easy to spot, especially for her family. They could read it in her smallest gestures even if she tried to be subtle about how she felt.

So, right now, when her happiness was palpable, every person at Jahangir Residence felt it. She was beaming as she went on with her routine. And it wouldn't be a wild guess on anyone's part that her high spirits had everything to do with her last offspring.

The ladies of the house were enjoying their evening tea in the lawn. That was part of the routine, with or without the men of the family. Nawar had just got off work and Adan had accompanied her. When they reached Jahangir Residence, Mrs. Irshad and Sabah were already waiting for them.

"I see, Mama's good mood translated into kind of a tea party," Nawar remarked, taking her seat. The kids had also bounced toward them as their mothers were back from their daily grinds. The beautiful chaos at this time of the day was cherished by Sabah.

"Oh, please." Sabah dismissed her assessment with a shy smile. "Teatime snacks are hardly a treat."

"Whatever you say, Mama. You won't hear me complaining, though." Nawar took a piece of cookie in her mouth as she checked up on the kids to make sure they were eating. Sabah huffed but her smile remained intact. The conversation flew in no time, as it does between loving families. The only person who didn't have much to add to the discourse was Adan. She remained taciturn, eyeing Sabah with concern every once in a while.

It was way after the evening tea. Sabah was in the kitchen for dinner preparations when Adan came there. Sabah gave her a fleeting look. "I called Aahil. He and Faran are stuck in a meeting but your Baba will be home soon. Sila had plans with a friend so she's there. It's okay, though. I'll pack them dinner and send it to their place in a few hours." She shared her plan with Adan as if it were the most important thing. Adan leaned against the counter and tipped her head in Asiya's direction. "Asiya, can you watch Hanah for me?"

Asiya reluctantly left the kitchen. Her nosy nature was no secret to anyone so Adan had to be cautious.

Once Asiya was out of the door, Adan turned to her mother. "Mama?"

"Hun?" Sabah replied busily, totally invested in the gravy simmering on the stove.

"You're being overly optimistic about something you and I both know isn't a cakewalk. Not in the slightest."

Sabah huffed, her movement with the wooden spatula more earnest. It was her way of telling Adan that she was busy and didn't want to talk but when Adan made up her mind to something, she meant business.

"Mama!" She urged once again.

Sabah took a deep breath. "As his mother, I have every reason to be optimistic when I see things are not as they used to be."

Adan shook her head, exasperated. "That's a stretch. All these years, he's not uttered one word about what happened. You'd think it was all in our heads, that detached he's acted from his own downfall. I, not for once, believe that he'll come around that easily."

"Maybe not to us." Sabah implored. "But to Sila, he surely will."

Adan was ready to launch into another debate when Sabah held her hand in her gentle hold. "Adan, his music room! Do you not see it? If he's unlocked the most cherished part of his past to Sila, for sure he'll let her in on everything that snatched it from him. Not now, but in the near future, yes. We see those two and how far they've come. If they had married each other under better and somewhat normal circumstances, I can say with conviction, this marriage would've been out of love than anything."

Adan's face softened. "But it's not, Mama. Yes, they have made things work wonderfully, but you can't ignore the fact that their marriage was a compromise both had to make. They didn't have much time to know each other completely. Particularly Sila. She has no idea about Aahil's past and knowing him, he's not going to be upfront about it. Yes, he's unlocked that door to her. That's encouraging but Mama, it's never going to be this easy. I just think we shouldn't have our hopes up. They have a long way to go. He has a lot to untangle."

As usual, Adan's brutally honest perspective dampened Sabah's spirits. Seeing her face, Adan felt she should have worded it better but sometimes, people you love need to hear things as they are. You can't view the world with rose-colored glasses, especially when it comes to your own kin. Didn't Aahil's situation teach them that? Adan refused to build her hopes on such a small gesture. He had lots to do. And the hardest part was, he had to do it on his own. Something he had been stalling for years now. They could've helped him and they did try their best to do just that but he was never forthcoming with anything. With such a track record, if Adan felt Sabah was expecting a lot, she was right to think that way.

"I know you think he's a lost case, Adan." Sabah finally spoke. Her tone was defeated. "He hasn't tried to prove it otherwise but I can't overlook what I see."

Her words were hopeful once again. "And I see him making an effort for her. He holds her in a very special place. He cherishes that she's in his life. I see it in his eyes. In the way he holds her. The way he looks at her. They can make their way through it all. We might not have much to be convinced but my heart says they'll get through this."

"Oh, that they will." Adan wiped a tear off her lash. "That's one thing I can bet all my money on. Sila isn't someone to sit down and encourage his shit as we have done all these years. She'll give him hell and your son behaves only when he knows he can't be a brat on purpose."

Sabah laughed at that. Adan hugged her sideways, wounding her arms around her neck. "I don't say we shouldn't hope, Mama. That's what we can do the best. But we'll have to think about keeping our biases aside, after all, it's not about just the Aahil we love, it also includes our precious Sila."

"Don't you worry about that! If he, as much as puts a toe out of line when it comes to her, he'll see a version of me he's fortunate he hasn't encountered yet."

Sabah's warning warmed Adan's heart. But as much her resolve was endearing, Adan wished it never had to come to that.

𝄞

The evening spent with Sonia was the highlight of Sila's day. They had said their goodbyes just a while back. Sonia warmly invited her to their place, and as further prompting, she showed Sila the pictures of her beautiful Golden retrievers, Mannu and Bablu. That was all the incentive Sila needed. She couldn't wait to meet Cyrus and Sonia again.

Occupied with these thoughts, Sila reached her car and sat inside. She held the steering but then thought against it. Instead, she picked up her phone and opened her Spotify.

Sonia was among the artists she followed on there. She scrolled down her discography and stopped at Windowseat. She had hit play on this particular album a lot of times before. The songs were there in her customized playlists but it felt as if she were going to listen to it for the first time.

The music was her companion, taking the passenger side seat as she drove out of the premises toward home. The thirty-minute drive was prolonged by the rush hour traffic. Normally, Sila would be pissed but today, she didn't mind it much. Nothing seemed to annoy her, even if it should've. The city lights played with their hues as they made a beeline into the car. The shadows of the high-rise buildings reflected off the window glass, and the wind played with her hair.

The songs shuffled. She drummed her fingers on the steering. The notes whispered untold tales in her ear as if she were their most cherished audience. She chuckled at her haywire thoughts. The soulful lyrics had never made so much sense to her before. She could feel the yearning, but she could also touch the tangible acceptance. The music broke something within but also, sewn the tattered halves anew.

The spell remained as she stopped in her building's parking, even though the music had stopped. She made her way to the elevator. Anticipation burned within her. She wouldn't be seeing him after eons but it felt the same to her.

Only when she unlocked the door to their apartment, instead of his radiant face, silence and darkness welcomed her. She switched on the lights half-heartedly and wasted no time in dialing the top contact in her phone. That'd be the double a in his name, she'd tell herself. But whom was she kidding? He was always at the top of her recent log.

He picked it up after just one ring. Good.

"Hel—"

"Why aren't you home yet?" She cut to the chase, not even attempting to hide her displeasure. What would that do?

"Ask your precious in-laws. I was told I'd be free in an hour. That was two hours ago." He said with mirth in his voice. As expected, he'd enjoyed her biting query. It wasn't every day that she'd break the professional decorum. It was more his thing and never her thing.

"I thought you'd still be with Sonia." He added as an afterthought.

"I was, for the whole evening. Just got home. Anyways, you get back to work." Even though she was not happy, she'd not stoop as low to throw a tantrum about it. Again, it was his thing not hers.

"Wait! Faran Bhai is here." He exclaimed excitedly. Sila had no good feeling about what was to come. "Aahil—"

But he didn't even register the warning in her voice. He spoke into the phone, not to her but to Faran. "Sila is home alone. Do you realize I'm lacking in my husband duties all because of you?"

"Aahil!" She cried exasperatedly but he was busy presenting his case. Ours asterisk, as he'd correct her.

Faran said something in reply which Sila couldn't hear because of her mortification.

Aahil tsked as he focused back on her. "Well, that didn't work. He's not easy to fool."

"Thank heavens for that!" She seethed.

"Anyways," He ignored her angry retort. "Mama asked that we join everyone for dinner but I'm stuck here and you've had a long day. So, she'll send some with the driver. Don't cook anything. Just get freshen up and relax. I'll be back before you know it."

"I'm not dying here without you."

"Always knew the pining was one-sided." He deadpanned.

"Are we calling brat behavior pining now?" She matched his tone. Instead of being affronted, he was amused if his low chuckle was to go by.

"I love it when you talk French to me. Bye for now."

Gosh, such a piece of work. Sila didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She dropped herself on the couch and got rid of her shoes. After massaging her feet for a while, she rang Sabah to thank her for her thoughtfulness. The five-minute call was extended to fifteen because that's what happens when your in-laws are full of love for you.

It was after the call and her getting freshened up, when instead of running her bubble bath, Sila sat down in her PJs and got to work. Whatever she'd known so far, his ensemble performances, the tributes, and showcases; she added all those videos to her YouTube playlist. Then she opened Spotify on her phone. Windowseat by Sonia, the soundtrack for the indie movie Summer at the Shoreline, all those tracks were saved in a separate playlist. Once done, she tucked her AirPods in and spent the next hour falling in love with the first love of the man she loved.

𝄞

Snuggling into her puffer jacket, Unaiza rubbed her hands together. She wasn't that far from the bonfire but the cold was relentless. She looked around settling her beanie over her head. Her sisters were busy in what appeared to be a very animated discussion with a group of university students who were staying in another resort nearby. This was the beginning of peak season for northern trips and her sisters, challenging their extrovert natures, hadn't taken much time to warm up to every tourist they ran into. This huge bonfire party also was a result of that. People were surprisingly nice when they were not following a dull routine or it was the charm of the mountains rubbing on them.

Her eyes swept across the party assembled. Many faces had become familiar in the last couple of days. Her eyes stopped at one such face. He was sitting among his group. The discourse looked rather comical if their faces were any indication. Muaz commented something under his breath and that garnered more laughs to flow.

He suddenly looked up from his place toward Unaiza. She tore her gaze but he had already flashed her a full-fledged smile. She reciprocated it. Hers wasn't as encouraging but he didn't seem to mind it.

She hadn't mentioned her run into him to her sisters but that was a futile consideration. They had not only found him but also it took them way less time to place him. Apparently, Sila's brother was a forgotten face just for her. They were also more forthcoming in their occasional meetings with him, something she had openly opposed. Yes, he was a family friend but they couldn't go around hanging out with him just because of that.

Voicing that thought out loud hadn't been a good idea. Ramna had kept her displeasure to herself but the same wasn't true for Arooba and Urwa.

"Aapi you're impossible sometimes. Waving hi to each other every once in a while doesn't even come close to hanging out. It's just part of good manners." Urwa had said hotly. As for Arooba, her accusing eyes conveyed more than Unaiza could take.

To an unsuspecting eye, they'd appear to be overreacting on a trivial matter but that wasn't the case. Those who knew Unaiza's history were also aware of the change in her countenance over the years. Back in time, Unaiza was the most outspoken in her family. A force to be reckoned with and she had never weighed in her words, never gave a hoot to anyone's opinion of her.

But then the tragedy hit her and after that, people's opinions struck her harder and harsher. On one end, everyone wished for her to move on but on the other end, she was put under so much scrutiny. As if, her being a young widow had put a mark on her back. People suddenly had an interest in everything she did. There's just so much a person can take. The constant nitpicking and signaling her out by relatives and acquaintances had made her extremely cautious of people in general. She didn't trust easily and if there was even a slight chance of any action of her turning into a gossip marathon, she'd stay ten feet away from it.

That changed her completely. From an opinionated confident young woman to someone who was always looking over her shoulder, ready to be disappointed, prepared for the eventual judgment of her character. Those who loved her were pained by this transformation, but she had no other choice. She'd never want her beloved parents and sisters to be put in any awkward situation because of her. Her luck or lack thereof with happiness had already caused enough harm.

The ringing of her phone put her out of her musings. She looked down and was surprised to see Farmaan's name on the screen. A sigh left her mouth. Someone more optimistic would think it was to extend her the olive branch, heck to even give her the apology she deserved but she was not that someone.

Getting to a secluded corner where the signals weren't as bad, she picked up the call.

"Hello."

"Unaiza?" His voice was clear. The signal was good. But it didn't give her the relief she expected.

"Hey, Farmaan. Hi. Can you hear me alright? Good signals are an off and on here."

"Oh, I hear you quite well. How's the trip going?"

She pursed her lips. "Good so far."

"I expected so. Such a shame if it hadn't worked out after disrupting the peace of the whole family."

There he was. This, was why she'd never be an optimist. "Really, Farmaan?"

"Oh, stop with this patronizing tone, Unaiza. Do you have any idea what you've done? Was it necessary to create so much drama over nothing? You know even I was harsh on Mehreen when I heard you on the dining table that day. But now I can see it was my mistake."

She smiled dejectedly. "I wonder why?"

"You got everyone's sympathy Unaiza, even mine. The matter should've been closed there. But no! Rameen had to come barging in and complicate everything. Now there you are, enjoying your trip, which you went to without even informing any of us. Do you have any idea how devastated Mehreen is by the silent treatment everyone has dished out to her? She can't eat. She can't sleep. You were wronged, Unaiza but I see suffering only for her while you're there having the time of your life."

"I don't need your sympathy, Farmaan. Give it to its rightful owner. Rameen didn't complicate anything. In fact, she's the one who has been right all along about everything. As far as this trip is concerned, yes, I'm having a good time, thank you for asking. My parents and Dado know about it and that's the only approval I need to do whatever I want to. I'm hanging up now because good signals are a rarity here and I'm not wasting it on someone who has no thoughts of his own! Talk to me once you're not eating out of your wife's hand."

"Mehreen was right. You don't care for anyone but yourself—"

But Unaiza didn't let him spew any more venom. She cut his call and leaned against the wall. She willed the sobs to be at bay. That'd be a pathetic sight. She was better than that.

"There she is."

Her eyes opened with a start. She found an agitated Arooba coming toward him followed by Muaz.

"Aapi! Really? You gave us such a scare! I thought you went to explore and got lost somewhere." She ranted as she stopped close to her hugging her sideways. "Thank God Muaz Bhai had seen you going toward this side."

Unaiza feigned a smile. "Why would I go out to explore at this time, silly?"

"Exactly what I told her sans the silly but she was adamant." Muaz took his part in the conversation.

"She just worries unnecessarily." Unaiza put an arm around Arooba.

"She's a good sister. I have one so I know it's a godsend, especially when I have to put my case in my Ammi's court."

Arooba laughed at that. Unaiza smiled lightly.

"We never have to do that for Aapi, though. She's the responsible one." She said as she looked up at Unaiza. The ball of tears in Unaiza's throat constricted her breathing some more.

"Okay, I'm off now, Aapi. The woman with the guitar is very kind to let anyone have a go but we all know Ramna can't play to save her life. We need to stop that catastrophe. I'm not letting her embarrass herself in front of so many people."

Saying that she hurriedly went out to join the rest of her party.

"As I said, a good sister."

Muaz chuckled. Unaiza stayed silent. She wanted to be alone. Her tears threatened to slip and she refused to lose her composure in front of this kind, almost stranger.

Muaz took a step ahead but stopped midway. He pushed his hand in his hoodie jacket, took something out, and silently extended it toward her.

Unaiza looked down at his palm.

A handkerchief.

He didn't say a word. Just waited for her to take it and she did. He immediately turned around and went away.

Unaiza finally let the tears flow. Arooba was right, she was the responsible one and by that definition, she wouldn't ruin her sisters' remaining days here because of a petty phone call. She'd tell them about it but only once they were home.

So, right now, she was crying alone. Her only company was the kind, not so stranger's handkerchief.

𝄞

Sitting idly on the couch, Rameen was busy scrolling her phone. She had recently found a new profile and had instantly fallen in love with the eye makeup techniques the girl employed. Making a mental note to use some of the tricks the next time she did her or anyone's makeup, she went back to the home tab. As the feed refreshed, the top story was Danish's. It had been uploaded two minutes back. Rameen touched the red circle.

It was a simple picture from his room balcony captioned 'Back home'. Rameen thought for a second and dialed his number.

"Hey, Reen."

"Hi! Did you just get home?"

Something shuffled on his end. Utensils? Rameen couldn't tell.

"No, I came back in the evening."

"Oh, I saw your story so thought so. How was Islamabad?"

"The same old. I was on short notice so didn't pay much attention to it. Just met Uncle Basit and went back."

Rameen paused, unsure of whether to ask what was on the tip of her tongue. Danish seemed to pick up on her dilemma. "Yeah. I'm debt-free now."

A sigh of relief left Rameen's mouth. Then she felt as happy as it was her own achievement.

"Congratulations, Danish. That's such a good news."

She had seen how distraught he was when his uncle lent him the money. He had lied to Sila about his trip and to his family about the real reason he went to Islamabad. That was a rough patch in Danish's life but his new job was surely paying him better than the last one and he was able to pay off his Uncle's money.

"Thank you. Uncle Basit wasn't happy that I returned him the sum but that was our deal. I've never taken that loan as charity. It feels awesome that I'm finally free and at the same time I can look at Uncle Basit without guilt eating me from within."

Before Rameen could say anything in return there was another loud bang from his side.

"What the hell are you up to?" She finally inquired.

"I'm making fries. I wanted to celebrate. I finally told Ammi and Dareer about the loan. They weren't happy that I hid it from them. There were tears involved as well. But it's all good now. The only issue is, I'm struggling with the task."

Rameen couldn't help her laugh at his helpless tone in the end.

"Don't be mean, Reen. Don't forget you used to love fried cooked by me back in our university days. It sucks that my technique has rusted a bit."

"That was a given. You forgot to have some fun for a good part of the last couple of years, and your fries were fun. Remember when we all came over to your place and that's all we ate? How many batches did you fry?"

"Don't remind me. Five. I could smell the batter off me even after a thorough bath. You all were monsters."

More laughter slipped Rameen's lips. Danish joined her. Those sweet movements would forever be etched onto their memories as good times always do. Slowly the laughter was replaced by a meaningful silence. It was broken by Danish only.

"Reen."

"Hun?"

"Come over. Let's have these fries with Ammi and Dareer." He threw in the invitation casually as if that was their normal.

"That depends, does Bushra Auntie still keep her homemade ketchup?"

"Yes, I'm looking at its bottle right this moment."

"Perfect." She left her couch, looking for her scarf. "Wait for me."

She accepted his invitation more casually because it indeed was their normal.

"Oi? Where are you going?"

She was crossing the lounge when she heard Amal's voice behind her.

"To Bushra Auntie's. There's a fries party!"

Amal and Haleh shared a confused look. "Take my car then!" Amal shouted.

"It's okay! I've already called a ride. Danish will drop me home."

With that, she was out of the house.

"Did she just leave in such a hurry for some fries?" Haleh was incredulous.

"Are you for real? It's not just some fries, it's fries by Danish." Amal added to her encyclopedia. Haleh was even more pressed to hear that.

"Why aren't we invited to the said party?"

Amal couldn't believe her. "You call the guy the wrong number. Have some shame, Haleh. Also, for someone who dined a full-course meal at a lavish residence recently, you don't get to be jealous of a fries party."

Haleh shrugged. "That was part of our deal."

"Is your deal called the courtship?"

Her grin grated on Haleh's nerves. "Stop smiling like a clown. I worry about what Raed sees through the video call."

Shots fired. Amal instantly straightened up. "It was just the one time. That too because he needed to discuss some points of his draft with me."

"Sure. If you repeat it enough times like that maybe our plants will be convinced and if you're lucky, Uncle Jeff's stereo as well."

She wiggled her eyebrows. Amal resorted to ignoring her.

Through the kitchen window, Saleema Baji saw Rameen's Uber ride zooming out of the lane. With a knowing smile on her face, she rolled the dough for Roti, humming under her breath.

𝄞

If you ask Sila Nouraiz what, according to her falling in love was all about, she'd not be able to answer that question. But one thing she was completely certain of would be this: It's a continuous process. It begins with a person, and slowly, everything your love loves becomes a part of the whole package.

She was experiencing it these days. In its full force. The little of his music she had gotten her hands on had enchanted her wholly. Bewitching it was, as if it were his magic, and shared this quality with him.

The very next day, Sonia sent her a package. It was a customized Windowseat hamper. But what caught Sila's immediate attention was the tiny scrawl on the tracklist. Beneath 'Hiraeth' the fifth track on the album, Sonia had highlighted a small section, time-stamped. Sila's breath hitched. She knew what this was about.

The humming in the background. The ad-libs.

It was him. Admitting the exact figure of how many times she'd looped that part was embarrassing. Just that it was etched onto her memory, inscribed on her subconscious.

She'd listen to her playlist whenever she got the chance. Then she'd wonder, what was on his mind when he came up with the particular arrangement. Did he scowl exactly the way he does when he's deep in thought? Did he gnaw on his lower lip without even noticing that he was doing it?

Then she'd imagine herself next to him. Would he look up from his instrument? Or would she have to shake his arm to get him to notice her? Would he wound his arm around her shoulder and pull her close as he explained to her the thought behind his composition? Would he let her watch him play piano? Would he teach her how to play the guitar? Would he laugh at her if she told him she'd never find him hotter than when he was playing drums, all sweaty and focused?

The thoughts were countless. The love was endless. She was done for. It was the worst thing that could've happened to her. She'd think.

Then he'd smile at her. Hold her hand. Touch her. Kiss her. Caress her face as if there was nothing else to do even though they'd spent all night together.

It was the best thing that could've happened to her. She'd conclude.

There was no going back after this. There was no return from this. And it was alright.

She looked outside the window as she waited for him. Their last visit to Delli's was a week back and that was a big no. So, it was decided, tonight they'd go on a date to Delli's. Whoever got off work earlier would pick the other one up so, there she was.

She didn't have to wait long. He was right there, walking toward their Chaand Gaari. She waved at him. He threw her a kiss. She rolled her eyes. The usual.

"A heads-up. If one of these days I run off from work and into hiding, you'll have to be my alibi."

Sila started the car. "I'm sorry I don't mess with illegal shit."

"You do more than just mess with me and it's illegal to be this irresistible." He pointed out.

Sila gave him a once-over. "That's your excuse for being the poster boy of the Police Department?"

"They love having me there. You'll get along well. You just have to try once again. You know all of Aahil's admirers."

Sila focused on the road. His self-praise would go on to there but she had to make sure this beauty called Chaand Gaari behaved.

"You didn't even consider the plan." He said, and as he moved, he put the music on.

The next moment, Sila's already plugged-in playlist boomed into the tiny space. Hiraeth was on. Her lips stretched into a nervous smile. She momentarily moved her head away from the windshield. He'd be surely taken off guard but she'd wanted to see his reaction on her listening to his music. She also had to tell him how in love with it she was.

Only it never came to that. He switched the music off with one flick of his hand. The gesture was small but had a hint of finality to it. The beautiful melody was abruptly replaced with a heavy silence.

Her smile shortened. Dimmed. He looked anywhere but at her.

But maybe, she could still try. "I recently—"

"Tell me about your day. You mentioned a new project. What's that about?"

He asked casually.

The last vestiges of her smile vanished. She hadn't been rebuked. She hadn't been called names. He hadn't done anything.

Then why did she feel a concrete wall between them? As if, he had turned away from her. As if, he had pulled himself out of her reach. He hadn't. Then why did it feel that way? Was she overthinking? Was her love-sick mind playing tricks with her and her heart egging it on?

"Sila?"

That did it. She gulped her unease and tried to remember what he'd asked. "The project, right? Oh, yes, Elma briefed us about it."

And they fell into their normal. She told him about her work and he did the same. Their nonstop talks all through the drive to Delli's.

Nothing had happened. She told her heart for the umpteenth time.

But the treacherous fool wouldn't believe a word of it.

𝄞