Finding the art studio in Phase 6 was easy. As Mahad stopped outside the premises, he was almost positive that any minute now, she'd appear with her welcoming energy (debatable but he was nothing but an optimist).

Sila had told him the exact time Haleh got free, so when almost ten minutes passed without any sign of the lady, Mahad had to stifle the secret wish. The surprise on her face wouldn't be a sight on cards today. With a sigh, he took out his phone and dialed the number.

Only she didn't pick up. Bummer again. Mahad's high spirits plummeted, and the scowl matching his inner mood set on his forehead merrily. He reversed his car, his phone to his ear. The awful ringing did its best to worsen the whole predicament he was in.

"Who the hell died?"

The call was finally connected and the reply also came but it did nothing to soothe his frustration, only, added to it.

"My freaking patience!" He said with a clenched jaw.

"Wrong person to tell this to." Her reply was blistering. "Go find someone who cares and leave me alone!"

Ouch! He was about to grace that with a fitting reply but before that could come to be, he had to slow down his car.

She stood there, on the sidewalk, about to turn the street. Her phone was placed the same way as his, and the scowl was also identical.

Even though he was pissed, Mahad couldn't stop his snort.

"What that was for? Nevermind! I don't have time and patience for your nonsense. Bye, Mr. CEO. Be of use."

"Not so quick." He chuckled. Her confusion was right there for him to see through the windshield. The golden hour was upon them, the slanted rays fell on her face as she turned to his vehicle. But their glare had nothing on hers.

"Hello!" He bobbed his head in a greeting as soon as he stopped his car right next to her. She eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

"Being your chauffeur, obviously. Get in."

Now that his quest had bore fruit, his frustration left him quickly and was replaced by a smug satisfaction. Haleh eyed him and then his shiny car.

"No Thanks."

Mahad raised an eyebrow. "We both know that's not what you want."

She grimaced, and a groan left her mouth. He knew presenting this case from the driver's seat wasn't a wise idea. So, he did the utmost and getting out of his car, reached her side. She saw his movements but stayed quiet, calculating the pros and cons in her head.

Now that Mahad had the time to do the necessary, her form, clad in a red and black flare kurta and black sleek trousers, with her dupatta around her neck and hair tied in a messy bun, was more than a welcomed sight. She shifted on her black flats, glaring at him.

"So, shall we?" He asked as if that was their normal. Haleh tipped her chin in his direction. "What's with you and always offering me a ride home?"

Mahad shrugged, taking off his shades. "I'm not that considerate. I just happened to see you on my way and since I was already going to Wadia House, asking you to get in my car was the gentleman move."

That was the lie quota of the whole year used in one sentence, but it seemed to make Haleh more confused. "Wadia House? Why?"

"Another question. You seem to be on a roll today."

She placed her hands on her sides, as if about to school him on something monumental.

"I have every right to know why you were going to my house in my absence."

"To invite you all over for dinner?" He countered in much the same way.

She deflated instantly. "Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner. Next week. Aahil, Sila, Sam, Lina, all of them will be there. You and the girls should also come."

"My rebuking did the good work, I see." Haleh grinned, pleased with herself. Mahad ignored her gleeful smile, even though it was a hard thing to do. Giving her the green signal to call him a loser for not having done this earlier wouldn't be pretty.

"Come on, now. I'll drop you off." He said again but the offer summoned her scowl back in place.

"I'm not going back home."

"Then?"

She contemplated her options and the more she thought this through the dejection on her face transformed into thoughtfulness. Mahad didn't know whether to be intrigued or alerted.

"Can you do me a favor?" She began as if a no from him wasn't even an option.

"What kind of favor?"

She played with her fingers and took a step forward. "A colleague of mine suggested a bakery around here and I, being an absolute dunce, believed her word for it. Turned out, the staff there," She pointed across the lane for emphasis. "They don't even know the P of professionalism. And they dare to say I didn't specify my requirements. What a disaster. It was about to get dirty but then I got reminded that I have put extra efforts in getting ready today so it's not worth it, ruining my perfect look for those slackers."

She touched her hair with an air of royalty. A full-fledged smile threatened to leave Mahad's lips but with their track record, she'd take full offence to it and he couldn't afford that.

Shaking his head, he put a stop to her blabbering. "The favor, Haleh."

She nodded with resignation. "Yes, that. Capri Square. Can you drop me there?"

That wasn't what he expected. "Capri Square?"

"Yes," She slung her tote over her shoulder and glared at it when it refused to behave. "Habib bakers in Mansfield Street. Let's go!"

Whatever Mahad had to ask couldn't come to be. She opened the passenger side door as if it was her car and he was merely what he called himself a while back: her chauffeur.

"Come on! I'm already running late!"

Her voice brought him out of his confused haze and with swift movements, he followed suit and took the wheel.

45 minutes later, they were inside Habib Baker's shop. Haleh was explaining her situation to a stout man in a crisp safari suit. That'd be Habib Khan, the owner. However, his countenance didn't betray any affiliation he had with the place. He looked like he belonged to a government sector clerical gig but the moment he opened his mouth and showed Haleh the list of their desserts and desi sweets ready to be delivered, Mahad knew the man was well-versed in his business.

When they left the place, Haleh was giddy, almost skipping on her feet as she managed the cupcake basket with her tote. Mahad, on the other hand, was in disbelief. Who, in their right mind needed this many cupcakes?

"Um, Haleh?"

"Hun?" She replied busily, without looking at him.

"Don't you think the icing choices are a bit...strange?"

Haleh looked between him and the sealed basket in her hand. Mahad gave another furtive glance at the sugar factory there.

"Oh, I'm not taking this home! Imagine the horror! Amal and Saleema Baji will balk. Rameen will definitely pick one, only to blame me for the sugar high. Banu Auntie will give me her patronizing stare and we'll have to physically restrain Uncle Jeff from devouring the whole basket and landing himself in the hospital."

That was about right. She saw the question in his eyes, the 'why then?' arch of his eyebrow, and suddenly, she wasn't so sure anymore.

And that was Mahad's cue to act promptly.

"Hey," He gently touched her arm, and when she rested her gaze at him, dropped his hand immediately.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me. I was just expressing a thought."

But instead of looking relaxed by his assurance, she seemed to be thinking on some other lines.

"I have to be somewhere. The place for which I have specifically bought these." She pointed toward the basket. "Do you want to join me?"

That wasn't a trick question but Mahad felt he'd do the absolute injustice to himself if he refused. The affirmation or negation seemed to be a part of a two-sided road. If he clung to one, he'd lose his chance at the other.

If he said yes, something new, something magical would bloom. That was an absurd thought but it was the only thing his mind could come up with.

"Let's go." He said, and proceeded to open the car door but Haleh stopped him.

"We won't be needing that. It's not that far from here."

So, just like that, their walk through the city's cultural hub started. Of all the ways his day could go, Mahad hadn't expected it to end up this way. They walked in tandem. Haleh was familiar with the neighborhood as she had practically pranced around her whole life in these city quarters. Mahad felt almost ashamed of never having enough time to explore this part of Karachi. He did have memories of visiting with his friends but those were few and far between. Among all of them, Aahil was the one who made it a habit to get out of the defense and Clifton bubble every once in a while. Mahad wished he had followed his lead.

The walk wasn't silent. Haleh's high spirits were infectious and so was her energy. She didn't talk nine to the dozen but the way she mentioned tidbits about her memories scattered around here, that said a lot.

It was about a minute after they rounded St. Patrick's Cathedral, with Empress Market in the distance, Haleh's steps quickened. She held Mahad's hand and entered a by-lane.

As soon as they did, the uproar of a city that was always bursting with activity seemed to move in slow motion.

Mahad was so transfixed by her smile that he didn't even notice when the window of the picket-fenced building opened, and a group of tiny humans stretched their necks to have a look.

"She's here!"

One of them shouted. That ensued the cacophony. Haleh giggled and showed Mahad the cupcake basket.

Oh, so this was for these energizer bunnies. It all made sense now. Haleh left his side to enter the building and greet her Fanclub. Mahad stayed back, his eyes sought the wooden plank right next to the house.

Margaret's Home—Estb. 1941

Right next to it was a marble statue of a woman. Must be Margaret. The person this establishment belonged to.

It didn't take a genius to know good old Margaret had been kind enough to start this orphanage in her days. It was also fascinating to see it in full swing even after some 8 decades or more.

"Mahad."

He saw Haleh standing at the entrance with a woman who could be a little more subtle in her inspection of him. But it was all his good nature. He hoped so.

"Come on in!"

He did as he was told and reached their side. Once he stood next to Haleh, she pointed at the woman. "This is Sister Elise, the woman with many talents. It's because of her that these tiny monsters haven't torn the place down."

Sister Elise gave him a tight-lipped smile which he reciprocated.

"And Sister," Haleh touched the side of his arm. "This is Mahad. Without his help, it would've been impossible for me to keep my word to the kids."

"Hello, Thank you for having me here, Sister Elise." He decided to use the charm his friends had always called him out for. The matron's features relaxed a bit at his welcoming smile but Mahad could say she had her defenses up. He didn't blame her. She was in charge of so many little humans' safety. She couldn't just trust any stranger who appeared at her doorstep.

"Do join us inside, Mahad." She said to him and gestured for him and Haleh to follow her. They did but when she was a good distance ahead of them all thanks to her brisk walk, Haleh leaned into his side.

"Listen, she's a bit rough on the edges. She's very protective of the kids so that's why. But don't worry. She'll come around soon. After all, I have brought you here. That's more than enough."

"I'm very much capable of imparting a good first impression myself." He pointed out. She glared at him, not happy that the vital part she played in bringing him here wasn't reciprocated by him.

"You couldn't do that with me."

"As if you were any better. Did you tell Matron Elise what you did to my poor shirt on our first meet?"

"Listen, You—"

But she had to stop right there. The giggles and shouts announced the arrival of the kids. They all lined up close to Mahad and Haleh, clearly just done with the cupcake party. One of them was still licking the gooey pink icing while a few of them had sprinkles stuck to their lips. Mahad couldn't help his chuckle.

"Where's my treat?" Haleh pouted, sitting down to reach their level. That ensued another gibberish marathon.

Mahad tried but couldn't understand much. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy seeing Haleh in this entirely new wavelength. She was animated and talked with her hands as the kids told her their stories.

Mahad had never seen her so much at ease. The trademark scowl was nowhere to be found. Not one scathing jibe his way.

"Haleh, who's he?" A bespectacled boy stood straight, eyeing Mahad suspiciously. The next thing Mahad knew, some 30 pairs of eyes were gawking at him, trying to analyze all that he was.

Well, that was overwhelming. Give a guy some warning.

"Is he your bodyguard?"

"No, silly. I think he's her driver. Didn't you see the car outside?"

"When did you become rich, Haleh? You said you were broke!"

"But are you sure? He doesn't look like a driver."

"Does his phone have games? Will he give it to us like you do?"

"Wait a second! Is he your boyfriend?"

"WHATTTT?"

"I THINK HE'S HER HUSBAND!

That escalated quickly. Haleh's eyes widened. Mahad coughed to hide his snort. Kids are wild. No filter whatsoever. It takes a great talent to leave someone like Haleh speechless.

"He's Mahad!" She squeaked. "And he's..."

"The most handsome friend she has." Mahad sat next to her. That was the help he offered. Haleh's scowl said otherwise.

"That's debatable."

Mahad nodded, in full agreement. "The only handsome friend she has, then."

"Now that's—"

"Anyways," Mahad ignored her and smiled at the kids. "Since we all are Haleh's friends, why don't we become each other's friends as well?"

The kids gaped at him. He wiggled his brows. "Pizza party's on me. What's say?"

That garnered the right reaction. Haleh saw, dumbfounded, as the kids flocked to Mahad.

"Did you just bribe them?"

"Hardly. Don't say the idea of a pizza party doesn't excite you too."

There. He had her. She bit her lower lip and pretended to not hear what he'd said.

The ride from thereon was smooth. Turned out that if you throw a pizza party and have good jokes on you, becoming an instant hit among the kids is guaranteed. Mahad was more than pleased with himself.

It was some time after the pizza party concluded. Matron Elise had warmed up to him enough to narrate to him the story of Margaret Wilson. The Anglo-Indian social worker who devoted her life to the betterment of the less fortunate in and around Karachi. This orphanage was one of many successful ventures of hers. She'd died a few years back and instead of joining her family back in Sheffield, she chose to breathe her last here in this city, surrounded by people she had always regarded her family. Her grave was in the nearby cemetery.

Haleh was busy collecting the clutter when the whole bunch of kids lined up behind her. Matron Elise smiled as if she was thoroughly looking forward to what was to come. That made Mahad interested as well.

She was busy with the dishes when the smallest kid at the front of the queue grabbed her by the corner of her Dupatta. She stopped, turned around, and gave him a questioning smile.

That earned her a rose with the most innocent smile thrown at her. Haleh was yet to thank the kiddo when one by one, all of them presented her with roses of their own. By the end of it, Haleh was surrounded by flowers, hidden by them, difficult to discern.

And that smile. The curve of her mouth. The spark in her eyes. The blush to her cheeks.

Mahad would have a hard time comparing it with anything else. He couldn't.

"She LOVES flowers!"

His reverie of thoughts was broken by a smug declaration close to him. The kid grinned when he found Mahad looking. "That's the scheme. Wanna make her happy? Give her flowers. LOTS OF IT!"

"Monty!" A girl with an air of 'you can't sit with us' energy pulled Monty back and glared at him. "You are not supposed to tell that to him! It's our code, remember?"

"But, Annie, Maliha said Haleh might end up being his girlfriend one day. We have to make sure she gets those roses."

"We'll get those to her," Annie stated matter of factly. "After all, no one can replace us in her life. So, don't spill everything to him."

To put weight to her point, she narrowed her eyes at Mahad.

"That's one mean stare. How old are you, Annie?" Mahad asked good-naturedly.

Her glare became even more scathing. "Eight."

Mahad pretended he couldn't hear her. "Eighty, you said?"

"EIGHT!" She and Monty chorused making Mahad laugh out loud. That was the beginning of another bickering session. Mahad was all game for it. He loved when these minions tried to be mean to him but couldn't.

Leaning against the table, Haleh saw it all unfolding with rapt interest. Mahad and the kids were trying to outsmart the other, but it only looked to be one big circus.

She hadn't known when a smile reached her lips, and when it turned into a light laugh. She just let herself be, unrestrained.

When it was time to leave, she bade her goodbyes to the kids and Matron Elise. Mahad was right next to her and when he opened the car door for her, she got inside without making a big deal out of it. Her mood was too good to get into such perversion.

The drive to Wadia House was silent, but the kind of quiet that doesn't need words to be punctuated. Mahad glanced at her. She didn't. But when he stopped the car right outside the white bungalow, Haleh turned into her seat and looked at him.

"It's my Mama's birthday today."

Mahad's movements stopped. Something in her tone suggested this wasn't it. Their goodbye for tonight was a deep conversation away.

"I don't remember much of her or my Baba. I didn't exactly get ample time with them. That's why whatever I have of them, both in memory and in habits, I keep it close to my heart."

She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and rested her head on the seat. Mahad mimicked her, his eyes trained on her face.

"I've gotten my artistic streak from her. She was amazing at what she did. But her clay and pottery artifacts were just too good, too detailed, and always part of the same universe. A bit of a storyteller she was, my mum. I always visit the art studio on her birthday."

She smiled lightly. It had a hint of melancholy to it. "She was associated with Margaret's home. I started visiting to honor her legacy but that's another thing I formed a genuine bond with Sister Elise and the kids. Also, the flowers. I've got her fascination with them as well. I think if they were alive, my Baba wouldn't be too ecstatic to know I didn't get much from him."

"You must've," Mahad whispered.

"Maybe. But I have no way to confirm. That's about abrupt goodbyes, I guess. So much is left unsaid, so much is yet to be explored. You have to make do with scrapes. Some days, they seem enough. And some days, the yearning makes you cry yourself to sleep."

She hadn't shed a tear. But are tears always the testament to the hurt? Mahad extended his hand and touched her knuckles with the back of his fingers. Haleh looked at where his hand rested, close enough to hold onto but still maintaining a reasonable distance.

There was a silent wish, his and maybe hers as well. What if the distance wasn't there? What if...

"Enough about me and my sob story," Haleh said, ending the trance. "Tell me about your childhood, now that you've seen the corners of Saddar I used to frequent as a child."

Mahad had also gotten over that moment quickly. For now.

"Well, I'm going to disappoint you and say I was confined to the defense, and Clifton bubble for most of my childhood."

Haleh balked. "You're kidding me right?"

"Hey," He raised his hand to stop the judgment right there. "I did have fun with my friend. Aahil, Lina, Sam and I. We were a riot together. And then there were trips to Islamabad as well. Good times."

"Islamabad?"

Mahad nodded. For a fleeting moment, the thought of divulging what he wasn't supposed to, did cross his mind but then, he brushed it off. He couldn't just omit a big chunk of his life from her when she had given him a glimpse of her most vulnerable feelings.

"My family is settled there. It used to be just me, Mama, and Baba in Karachi. That's why the summer holidays were a treat. Those few weeks were the highlight of my whole year along with the time spent with my friends here."

"Must be fun," Haleh said, genuinely interested to know more.

"For us? Yeah. For the elders? Not so much. Rony was already a riot for Taya Abu and Tayi Ma. A new shenanigan every day. Then I'd join his graces and that'd be double the headache. Needless to say, Summer wasn't an easy season for our family."

That made Haleh laugh out loud. "Gosh, I can't imagine. I mean, yours, sure. But your brother? Nah. He looked so suave and collected in the pictures."

Mahad wiggled his brows. "Pictures are often misleading, Haleh. He has straightened up his act but beneath the surface, the same troublemaker Rony is there. I'm certain."

"Maybe, it has to do with him being settled in life? He's married now that too to such a beautiful and elegant woman. Maybe that did the trick?"

Mahad gave her a long stare and then burst into laughter. That was an odd reaction for Haleh but the way his shoulder shook, she'd think she'd crack some kind of insane joke.

"Haleh," He said, finally getting over his mirth. "During his childhood, Rony wasn't alone in his delinquent business. He was often the sidekick, doing the bidding of his best friend aka the mastermind of all the wickedness."

"So?" Haleh asked, confused.

"Well," Mahad hiked a shoulder. "Rony is married to that best friend."

Haleh's mouth flew open. Mahad was enjoying her astonishment more than he should've. "Yeah, never trust the portraits. They don't tell you anything. Not in the least about Gina and Rony, anyway."

Haleh swatted his arm away. Show off.

Silence fell in the car once again after that.

"For how long we've been sitting here?" Haleh asked, looking through the window.

"Long enough for Uncle Jeff to give us concerned looks," Mahad said, pointing outside at a scowling Uncle Jeff. Haleh cursed under her breath.

"Shit! I should get going!"

She didn't wait for his reply and got out of the car. Mahad saw her making her way to the main entrance. He was certain she wouldn't look back. That was unlikely.

She was halfway through the steps when she stopped. Mahad could feel his heart in his throat.

Haleh turned around and with a genial smile—no sneer, no mocking grin, a genuine curl of her lips— waved him goodbye.

As he raised his hand to reciprocate the gesture, Mahad realized, his day had never concluded on such a good note. Or maybe it did, but never felt how it felt right then.

𝄞

For how long she had been sitting on the garden steps, Bakhtawar had no idea. She hadn't been keeping count. Her eyes roamed the assortment of flowers the gardener had nurtured with his care and love.

The two things that are instrumental for anything to bloom.

How synonymous flowers are to life. Care, love, and affection go a long way. And when these elements are absent, the budding seedlings wilt and die.

Death to the flowers.

"Bakhtawar, what are you doing out here?"

Sukaina's voice brought her out of her musings. Bakhtawar looked behind her and found Sukaina sitting on the couch.

"Nothing, Bhabhi. Just felt like spending some time in the garden."

If Sukaina didn't believe her, she chose not to let it show.

"Let's go for dinner. Baba Jaan is asking for you."

Bakhtawar silently left her place and joined Sukaina. But she couldn't help but chance another look at the flowers.

They seemed to be extra fragrant today.

𝄞

Even though he hated the most of it, he had to insert himself into the work. He simply couldn't do anything about it. Faran might be less strict on him than others, but he was still a force to be reckoned with when it came to office work. Aahil tried getting himself out of it but his brat tendencies were for naught.

So, there he was, in his cabin, trying to make sense of the report just emailed to him when he heard the knock at the door.

"Look who's neck deep in work. Should I visit some other time?" Sonia asked, looking around with interest. Aahil wasted no time in pushing his laptop aside. He stood up to greet her.

"The work can wait."

"The only answer I expected." Sonia laughed and reached his side, engulfing him in her bear hug.

"How are you, darling? I heard you're officially part of Jehan but now I've seen it myself. How wonderful is that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It works. That's what it's supposed to do."

Sonia scrunched her brows. "Don't talk rubbish. I know you. You are something else when you set your mind."

That was the thing, though. He couldn't see himself ever doing this with his heart involved. That was another thing he couldn't see himself ever doing anything professionally with his heart involved.

"Enough about me. What brought you here? I never expected to find you knocking at my office door."

He asked as he ordered the best refreshments for her. Sonia eyed his movements keenly, probably figuring out how well-versed he'd become in his new venture. She'd have to be disappointed. He was still a novice and would stay so for a long time.

"I just wanted to meet you and tell you how lucky you are."

That earned her a known smile. He leaned into his chair and gave her a childlike grin. "Sila...I've won at life. I know."

Sonia could only shake her head at this. "That you did, you smug idiot."

Aahil accepted it as if it were the most eloquent praise. They talked some more as they sipped their coffees. It was once the silence had stretched for a while when Sonia began.

"Darling, I also wanted to—"

But he only shook his head. "Don't, Sonia."

She continued, her voice the gentle coaxing. "I'm not going to apologize if that's what you're getting at."

He didn't look up at her. "I wasn't expecting you to."

"Exactly. You shouldn't. I didn't tell her anything I wasn't allowed to. Just my truth. That's another thing that she's well versed in everything you, my boy."

Even though he was not in the mood, a chuckle left his mouth. Sonia held his hand in hers.

"Your vulnerabilities are safe with her, Darling. She's a keeper. Your miracle. Don't hide your scars from her. Maybe you need just her gentle touch to soothe them."

But were his vulnerabilities safe for her? A million-dollar question and even though he was the spawn of the biggest conglomerate in the country, he couldn't afford it.

"I'm not asking you to bare your heart to her. I know that doesn't come easily to you, at all. But don't turn your back on the idea. Take slow steps, baby steps, stagger, fall, do whatever you must to stand back on your feet but do it, Aahil. And do it with her by your side. She won't let your hand slip from hers. You deserve that from life and she deserves that from you. Think it through, Darling."

He'd have to. He couldn't let it linger anymore. But that was the thing. From where should he begin?

The end? Or the beginning? The tale that tore him to smithereens and left behind the shell of a man he once used to be.

He had to make a decision and that too, soon. Sonia was right. Sila deserved that from him.

But gathering up that courage was going to be an uphill task. Unlocking some doors is easy. It's pushing them open and setting foot inside them that takes the utmost courage.

And he had long established himself a coward.

𝄞

The dinner at Mahad's was as expected a success. That's bound to happen when there are hearty conversations and laughter scattered around. The host had taken care of every tiny detail. Still, the girls were adamant about helping him and Tabish. The boys? Not so much. Aahil and Osama resorted to reclining in the lounge, earning not-so-kind words of reprimand from both Sila and Alina. That was another thing it did nothing to haul them out of their seats.

"Can you at least help us out in preparing the dessert?" Amal asked, none too gently. Aahil craned his neck in the kitchen's direction. "That depends, who's on dessert duty?"

Tabish sighed, whipping the fresh cream. That was enough for Aahil. He mocked saluted them and fell back on the couch. "Nah, this big guy can manage it on his own."

"Good for me. I don't want you to ruin my special for tonight." Tabish shot back hotly.

"If it tastes as your curry did the last time, then God bless us." Osama put in, making a face at the memory.

"That was a gut-friendly recipe!" Tabish was on the verge of throwing hands.

"Did us a favor by not reaching our guts. So, yes, I see your point." Aahil took a sip of the concoction Tabish had brewed and called it a healthy fizzy drink substitute. His grape soda was far better than whatever this abomination was, no matter if his friends were in complete disagreement with it.

Sila glared at both of them. "You two are such slackers. If you can't help, at least shut your trap."

That shut them both up. Aahil distracted himself from his wife's displeasure by looking around at the interior of Mahad's lounge. That was another thing everything here was at his fingertips. Perks of sharing a bond spanning years.

"Oi,"

He called out to Mahad as soon as he appeared in the door. Mahad pocketed his phone where he had just placed a huge order on the GetACake app.

"Where are your photo frames?"

Mahad bit his tongue. "I'm planning on changing the theme around here. So, have those removed for the time being."

Aahil was about to take his investigation further when Sila got out of the kitchen. "We are about to set the table. Mahad, can you please get Haleh? She went to check out your pool closely and hasn't been back yet."

That was a godsend for Mahad. He wasted no time in scurrying out of there, leaving a confused Aahil behind.

But his focus couldn't stay on his 'friend' for long. It lingered back to his wife.

A scowling wife asterisk.

"Need a hand?" Aahil mouthed. Sila's eyes narrowed some more but she still said nothing. At last, with a chuckle, Aahil left his place and went to the kitchen.

"Oh, no!" Rameen made a disgusted face to see him enter. "Not you! No PDA in the kitchen."

Aahil pretended to be hurt. "Ouch, Reen. Have some trust."

"First you two have some shame." She put in not even caring for her best friend.

"My Dadi says this generation is going to the dogs." Tabish had to have a say.

"It's not my fault your Dada never tried to hold your Dadi's hand in public." Aahil shrugged."

"He does! When she's crossing a line!"

Aahil patted Tabish's shoulder. "Then he should never leave it as she's always crossing some lines."

That earned him some laughs from his friends and wife and a scowl from Tabish. Aahil didn't care though. He was here to help his wife and that's what he intended to do.

The dinner was spent in the same manner. Bickering, roasting, reminiscing, and whatnot. Aahil was attuned to an anecdote from their childhood that Alina was narrating when his eyes fell on Sila.

Sila. Him. Their friends. How right it was. How fitting it felt. As if every puzzle piece fell into its place and completed the jigsaw of their lives.

Did he ever hope to achieve something like this? Never. But now that he had, he hoped to never lose it again. The wish was sudden, born from his heart. A prayer. Sila. A reward.

The moment passed. The thought stayed. So did the aftermath of it. Throughout the drive back home. Between them, a welcomed companion in their conversation.

"Our friends suck at cards," Sila commented, as she placed her purse on the table and switched on the lights. Aahil stood there silently, listening to her.

"I thought it was just the issue with the girls but Good God, they are at least better than Osama and Mahad," She chuckled busily as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Cyrus and Sonia are the best duo at cards I know," Aahil said tentatively. Sila's smile turned into a curious expression as she sat straight on the couch.

Aahil continued. A bit uncertain. A lot nervous. Some hesitation there. Some fear here.

"I'm not exaggerating. You can see for yourself when we go there for dinner."

Sila blinked. "Are we going to?"

Aahil fiddled with the car keys. "Yeah. Their house is awesome. You'll like the interior. Also, Cyrus and Sonia's studio is in the basement. Fascinating place that is."

The place he spent much of his days at, was crammed in his tiny space, surrounded by what he loved the most.

His studio. He hadn't been back there for years.

But maybe, now was the time? For both him and her.

Sila left her place on the couch and reached his side. He hadn't done much but his few words had, their magic infused in the air between them.

Sila couldn't help but glow with the realization that he had taken a step forward. Small step. But that's about love. The smallest gestures mean the world to the hearts.

She wound her arms around his neck. "I love this idea. Also, my feet hurt in these heels."

Aahil looked down and then at her. "We're standing in our lounge, Sila."

She rolled her eyes, spelling out 'Duh' to him through her gaze. He was no fool. Bending down he picked her up in his arms.

"But we are not standing in our bedroom."

"Finally, he gets it!" She giggled and took his lips in a kiss that sealed a promise, hopeful that he wouldn't ever break it.

But that's about a heart in love. Breaking some promises is never desired but is often inevitable.

𝄞

Boston, Massachusetts

It was the last ten minutes of the visiting hours. The hospital staff was going on about their daily routine. Nothing out of line. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Or not.

The silhouette crept along the hallway and stopped right outside the last room. He clicked open the door without making a noise and stood in the doorway, staring at the bed.

Taking a few steps closer, he tsked, seeing the state the person was in.

That was enough to interrupt the peaceful slumber of the patient. He slowly opened his eyes. His vacant gaze landed on the intruder standing close to his bed.

His eyes widened. And soon, the contours of his face filled with excruciating pain and contempt.

That was the most he'd expressed in years.

But all it did was elicit a laugh from the man who'd just broken into his hospital room.

The sinister laugh of a man who had once caused unfathomable destruction was now here to repeat the same.

𝄞

At first, Sila thought it was her alarm going off but when she opened her eye, it was well into the night, with no sign of the dawn anywhere. It took her some time to get her bearings, but when she did, her eyes instantly sought her husband out.

She soon found him. Pacing the length of the balcony, with his phone placed on his ear he listened to what was being said on the other hand.

Sila had never seen him this distressed.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration visible with every movement. Sila immediately got out of the covers and rushed to his side.

It was a faint voice in her head. Negligible. Tiny. But when it solemnly whispered that things were about to change, and not in a good way, Sila couldn't brush it off.

𝄞