One thing about work-life Sila learned early on was that it doesn't care for your mood or anything else. Your world might be crumbling down, tilting sideways from its axis, you're supposed to arrive at your job in your best spirits, regardless.

It had probably happened for the first time in her 27 years of being alive. She was already wide awake when her alarm went off.

So was he.

Turned out, when you're having a couple's feud, sleep is the first traitor that slips through the door without making a noise. With practiced monotony, she got ready for work. Not many words were exchanged between them, a stark contrast to their normal. Pretenses wouldn't solve anything. She remained aloof. He accepted her detachment with resignation, but she could also spot the determination in the crevices.

Good for him. If this gave him the incentive to straighten his act, she was game for it. Anything at this point was workable. If only he understood the gravity of their predicament. If things went this way, the fissures would morph into cracks and soon, the foundation of their relationship would come crashing down, its weight too much to bear, too heavy to lift.

They went through the motions, toast, and tea in breakfast—a little stale, devoid of the sweet taste of their banters. The morning was an extended chore than anything else.

Sila slung her purse over her shoulder and picking up her car keys, went toward the door. Her movements were unsure, her steps small. She had never been this uncertain in her life. For the sake of sticking to the routine, she needed to get the hell out but it wasn't about professional commitments anyway.

She mumbled a muted bye over her shoulder and didn't linger. He had gotten ready alongside her but she didn't know when he'd leave for office. Another first. They had been well-versed in each other's schedules. Today was an exception, a painful one at that.

Stopping by her car, her shoulders slumped. The fight left her slowly. She was tired. This situation had worn her down more than she'd let on. And so far, she could see no silver lining. She was as clueless, their relationship as rocky, and Aahil as lost in his mind.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat inside her car. She was getting late.

But this day was on to a glorious start. Her beloved Chand Gaari refused to cooperate. Sila huffed and looked heavenwards. Why was everything against her?

She was trying to push her car to the best of her abilities when a shadow fell on the window. Sila didn't have to crane her neck to see who it was. She wordlessly got out and stood next to him.

"It's acting up."

She said futilely as if that was news to him. By then he was attuned to Chand Gaari's mood swings better than her.

Aahil immediately opened his car door and when she stayed put, closed his eyes in regret.

The strain in their relationship couldn't have been more vivid. A few days back, this same situation would've panned out way differently. He'd have things to say about their Chand Gaari, she'd glare at him, making herself comfortable in his car, leaving it up to him to take them to their respective workplaces safe and sound, all the while telling him he was a Class-D driver.

The ease, the comfort, and the playful camaraderie were a thing of the past. What remained was a mix of hesitation and doubts, and a silence deafeningly loud.

She hated it, he was also not a fan but it was their reality now. And wouldn't turn around unless they made an effort.

He made an effort, more precisely.

𝄞

Sila Nouraiz was many things but those who knew her through her work were aware of a single fact: she was a thorough professional. When she was at work, nothing could crack her.

But today, as they say, was a first.

Since the moment she arrived, she was distracted. She tried her best to insert herself in her task list but the mundane had lost its meaning today. Normally, her haywire mind would be a big no for her perfectionist self but today she couldn't care less.

Her thoughts were about just one man, who was the bane of her being yet the reason for her heartfelt smiles.

She had reasoned with herself about her behavior in the morning. The silent treatment had left an uproar of conflicting emotions in her. On one hand, she wanted to be detached from this whole situation, unless he came clean with her. But there was another thought, a quite convincing one. Why would she do that? Why couldn't she just push him to address the elephant in the room? Was their marriage and what she felt for him so fickle that they couldn't do this together?

By nature, she always upheld boundaries, both hers and the other person's. Her life had taught her one thing: to understand when her presence was no longer needed and make her dignified exit. Never the one to push someone if they weren't forthcoming about their troubles, she had a hard time doing what she always did.

She didn't want to run away, didn't want to keep her distance. She wanted to stay, to be right by his side, to give both him and herself the consolation that they could survive this bump on the road. It was just that, a mere bump on the road. All marriages have those phases and most couples come out of them unscathed. She knew they did.

She hoped they'd too.

That was too much personal contemplation during office hours but she was helpless here. To focus her attention back on her work, she randomly went through her emails.

Only to find she'd forgotten to check Elma's latest update to her team. Sila pursed her lips in an expression of annoyance. She needed to sort out her personal mess or keep it at bay for a while. She was slacking at work, which was a big no in her dictionary.

The email contained a reminder of the meeting with a high-profile client. Sila checked the time. It was scheduled in about fifteen minutes. She immediately picked up her stuff and marched out to Elma's office.

"Sila! I was about to call you."

Elma exclaimed as soon as she spotted her. She beckoned Sila to where she sat. Her countenance meant business. The client must be here anytime now.

"Listen," Elma held the back of her chair to emphasize her words. "This meeting is important. I'm very much looking forward to working with this artist and counting on your expertise in managing every challenge impeccably, Sila. Nothing should go wrong."

Sila raised an eyebrow. "You know it won't. But at least give me a heads-up who has you all worked up?"

A smile broke out on Elma's face. "Oh, you'll see. This is going to be good. I have a feeling."

It better be. All this commotion should be worth it. Sila thought when Elma's phone rang. She straightened up immediately.

"He's here."

Sila settled her stuff on the table as Elma approached the door to welcome her high-profile client. Elma's behavior was the stark opposite to her usual professionalism as if this meant more than just a business give and take.

As if Elma were a fan. Sort of. The absurd thought made Sila shake her head. But the next moment, her assumption proved right when the awaited person strolled in.

Zarrar Hassan was no stranger to anyone in the whole building. Sila was also taken aback by his sudden arrival, she'd have to give him that. He smiled at Elma and her team as he took his seat.

"Hello." He tipped his head in their direction, his eyes lingered on Sila who was the picture of professional courtesy. They all greeted him back with different ranges of enthusiasm. That made his grin deeper.

"Guys, the cat's out of the bag. I'm very pleased to announce we're collaborating with none other than Zarrar Hassan."

Elma didn't need to tell the obvious. But her excitement was palpable. Sila leaned forward, ready to learn more. Her mind cleared of everything else but even when Zarrar's assistant began with his briefing, she couldn't help giving a furtive glance toward her phone screen.

It remained blank.

𝄞

The fifth anniversary of Zarrar's debut was approaching fast. His record label wanted it to be a memorable event for his fans. They had planned a meet & greet, exclusive Q&A sessions, a concert with the setlist featuring all his hits, and an unplugged jam for the underrated songs off his albums. The setting they had envisioned was a carnival. The entry tickets were limited and exclusive and would be through an online interactive process.

To make this possible, Zarrar and his team required an event management company catering to all their requirements. EFvent was what they needed. And seeing Elma's excitement, this event was also what Elma needed.

Sila could see the pros of such a project. Their latest venture with Jahan had put them in league with the big guns. This would be a further boost, exactly what Elma wanted to restore her company's potential and take it a notch higher.

She hoped this would bring the outcome Elma hoped for, the chances of which were high. The meeting went on for quite some time. They had to look through every detail to satisfy Zarrar and his team.

When they were free to leave, Sila wasted no time exiting Elma's office. She made a mental task list for tomorrow. But for now, she needed to reach home, take a long bath, and hit her bed. If having a heart-to-heart with her husband was on the cards, that'd be even better. She was not below wishful thinking.

She had just come outside the office premises when she felt someone falling in step with her. She craned her neck sideways and was surprised to see a smirking Zarrar.

"In a hurry?"

Sila shrugged. "Office hours are over. I might be hard working but I'm not a fool."

Zarrar nodded, his crooked smile intact. "Never took you for one. When did you start here?"

"It's been a few months, a very good few months actually. I think I needed the change."

She refrained from going into the details. Why she left AJ was a lofty topic, precisely inappropriate to discuss with a client at most and an acquaintance at best.

"Many other things have also changed." Zarrar pointed out genially.

That made Sila smile lightly. So, he was aware. Guess, going viral on social media makes literal celebs aware of your life happenings. She found no hesitation within her. No hard feelings. No unease. If that wasn't a testament to her feelings toward her relationship with her husband.

"I see. Good for you. I'm just happy that even though accidentally, I've found you here. You managed my first concert. It's only fitting that you are there to manage my 5th-anniversary event as well. If that's not a perfect alignment of fate."

Sila raised an eyebrow but had to admit that he was right. "Good thing that only alignment of fate can't bring forth the needed results. We'll have to work hard and that we will do. We've got you covered."

"I have no doubts regarding that. By the way, you can bring along your friends. No ticketing hassle."

He hadn't forgotten the last time he pulled out this favor for her. Sila made a mental note to let those Nosy Nikammis know they were such an embarrassing lot. She was about to grace his reminder with a fitting reply when she gave a furtive glance at her phone screen.

The notification bar of a text she had got about ten minutes ago made her immediately open it. Her heart thudded in her chest and her lips curled into a smile. It only grew wider as she read the content of the text.

Oblivious to the fact that the person before her was taking note of her every move with rapt interest.

She typed out a response and looked at him. "It was nice meeting you, Zarrar. The event will be a hit. Don't you worry about that. I have to rush now."

"By all means." He said, taking a step back. Sila wasted no time in scurrying out of there toward the parking. Her steps were quick as if she couldn't wait to get to...

Him, who stood there, next to his car, waiting for his wife.

Zarrar pushed his hands in his pockets and saw, with mounting satisfaction, the ashen face of Aahil Jahangir.

He could finally say, a productive visit it had been. So far, so good.

𝄞

Hope—a thing that can simultaneously be the kindest emotion and the cruelest realization. She held onto her seatbelt, her fingers playing with the bouquet agitatedly. She had found it lying unceremoniously on the passenger seat. Why was this not given to her? It was one of the many questions she had on her mind.

Those few seconds of anticipation and relief, when she read his text, had vanished into the air the moment she stepped close to him.

If she expected warmth, she found detachment. She had hoped to see him in high spirits, finally out of the weird phase he'd been stuck in for quite some time but she was wrong there as well.

She gave him a sideways glance. His jaw was taut and his lips were pressed into a hard line as he drove. His grip on the steering was ironclad, his knuckles white. Sila's heart sank further.

"H...how was your day?"

She mustered the pieces of her broken resolve and asked as normally as she could when nothing about this situation seemed normal to her.

"Fine." He mumbled distractedly. Sila felt it, the sound of something breaking, withering away chip by chip, her hope, or her heart. Maybe both.

They were back to square one. Her heart cried but she refused to believe it.

"You mentioned in your text that we're going somewhere. Are you taking me to Delli's?" She asked, trying to appear nonchalant. She hoped her desperation wasn't on display. It was hard to conceal it when, at that moment, nothing but an affirmative response was her heart's desire.

He opened his mouth to say something but then thought against it. Sila didn't have to guess. The car was on the way to their apartment complex. They had just driven past the bylane toward Delli's.

"Or not, I guess."

She whispered more to herself than him. Her hold on the seatbelt slacked. The fragrance of the petals was the only proof that things were not always this grave.

"Thanks for this, by the way."

She said it without any malice. The fight had left her slowly. She was tired and it had nothing to do with the day she had. She felt her throat clogged with unshed tears. She willed them not to fall down her cheeks. What change that would bring? It would only make her look like a fool.

She had half a heart to scream at him to drop her right in the middle of the road but she felt that'd also be futile. At that moment, the impenetrable wall he'd built around himself felt as impassable as ever. She couldn't reach out to him. So, what was the point of making a scene?

He stopped the car right in front of their building. Sila looked around at the lively ambiance. This was probably her favorite time of the day to be around here, but tonight, she felt immune to the joy of sunsets, the sea, and the horizon together.

She turned to open her side of the door when his voice stopped her.

"What was he doing there?"

Sila felt disoriented. What was he talking about?

"What are you...who?"

Her unintelligible response made him sigh out loud and turn toward her.

Eyes full of anguish, face ashen, hair not as sleek now that he had run his hands through it twice—during all her time knowing him, first as a sworn enemy, then as a reluctant partner, and now as her husband, Sila had never seen him this disheveled in a matter of mere minutes.

"I'm talking about...Zarrar."

He said if he had uttered an abomination.

Sila gave him a long stare, trying to figure him out but she couldn't.

"He's our new client."

A derisive chuckle left Aahil's mouth. "Of course, he is."

It grated on Sila's nerves, a scowl set on her face.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She asked calmly but internally she was seething. Aahil ran his hand through his hair once again. Sila found the act infuriating for no reason.

"Nothing." He said and that was it. Sila picked up her stuff quickly.

"Whatever, Aahil. I'm out of here. Do you want to stay ambiguous? Your choice. It was my fault to assume so much out of nothing."

Her voice cracked slightly but she controlled her emotions as she got out of the car. She hadn't expected him to follow her but when he drove away, she felt he had taken a part of her with him,

How did something so beautiful, with the promise of so much to bloom and thrive, come to this?

She could never guess.

𝄞

His family beach house along the private enclosure of the shoreline was reserved for parties and recreation. All through his childhood and teenage years, this was one of his favorite places in the city. His friends never had to worry about a birthday party or a hangout. He'd always got them covered.

It had been years since he'd come here. Some places lose their importance when the warmth in the memories turns into a fire that threatens to set everything ablaze. When nostalgia no longer moores the ships, rather it capsizes it, the waves splintering the wood, sinking it to never be afloat.

Crossing the lounge, he went straight to the backyard which opened to the seashore and the unending horizon of clear blue waves. He held onto the wooden railing, his thoughts running a mile a minute. The last hour was a blur, a tornado that had turned his world upside down.

When he stopped his car outside Sila's office, he had an agenda for the evening that included everything it took to make amends with her. He was a determined man, nothing could stop him.

Nothing but seeing Zarrar Hassan conversing with his wife.

At first, he was taken aback, numb even. But then, he was a mess of anger and agitation. The past swirled before his eyes as a camera reel. He was, once again, on the verge of losing it. But he had to get it together. For himself but also for Sila.

Sila.

He felt a pang in his heart. How could that scumbag come even in her vicinity? How could he! He looked down at his hands. The urge to cause some damage was daunting.

Loud footsteps behind him broke his reverie. He turned around, ready to tell the caretaker he was not in the mood for tea or coffee.

But the person before him was far from the old caretaker.

Zarrar grinned. "I had an idea this would be your first stop. Your predictability astounds me sometimes."

He looked around lazily as if he had all the time in the world. "This place hasn't changed much. I still remember the beach parties you used to throw here. What glorious times."

Aahil took a step forward. "Get lost."

He seethed through gritted teeth. His two-syllable response was filled with contempt and acute hatred. But Zarrar seemed to thrive in that if his shit-eating grin was any indication.

"Oh, don't be a killjoy. Let me have a look. For old times' sake."

Aahil didn't wait for him to continue and took out his phone to call security. He'd have to rebuke them for letting a stranger in but that was for later.

"Is it about your wife? Come on, you should know she's not my type and—"

Before he could finish, he was on the floor, his collar in Aahil's grip.

"Don't you dare! Don't you fucking utter even her name from your filthy mouth." Aahil spat. The fire in his stance was enough to burn the whole world if it came to that. He didn't lose his hold. His eyes bored into Zarrar's, giving him a silent warning.

"Interesting." Zarrar half-wheezed, half-laughed. "Good to see you haven't lost your spunk. The last time I saw you this worked up over something was your music."

Aahil immediately realized his mistake. He had just given Zarrar more ammunition through his reaction.

Zarrar got up, smoothing out the creases on his shirt and setting his hair in the perfect jelled strands.

"You might not know but she and me go way back. Strictly professional, though. No worries there. I've always admired her work ethic, and the drive to get things done. I always wondered where had I seen this before. Then it clicked."

He took a step forward so that he was within Aahil's hearing distance. "She reminds me so much of Maya."

The sinister whisper was it.

The next moment, a punch landed right on his nose. Instead of yelping in pain, he staggered backward with a grin. His work here was done. Perfect execution.

Aahil saw red. He had never lost his temper this way but Zarrar had it coming. It and lots more. How pathetic an excuse of a human someone has to be to say what he'd just said. The grave implication beneath his innocent words wasn't lost on Aahil. He stepped forward to repeat his move but the security guards made their entry at the exact moment.

Zarrar didn't let the men take him. He wiped the blood off his face as he made his exit. His eyes never left Aahil's.

The open threat in those was hard to misread.

And Aahil had long stopped misreading his threats.

𝄞

Staring at her phone, Unaiza had never felt this conflicted before. She sighed and traced the spine of the diary in her lap.

Muaz's diary.

She had kept it safe with her on their return journey from the mountains. Back home, the whirlwind of daily drill sprinkled with familial issues awaited them. But amidst all this, she remembered to keep the diary secure.

There was a battle within her. A part of her wanted to forget about the diary so, she wouldn't have to contact Muaz. The other part reprimanded her, telling her it was a personal belonging and she ought to give it back to him.

There were technical issues present as well. She didn't have his number, didn't know if he was back on duty, if he was, where was he stationed.

Turned out, the source for answers to all these questions lied with her sisters who knew everything. They were connected through social media. When did this happen? Unaiza had no clue but before she knew it, she was handed his number, along with the tidbit that he was still off-duty and currently in Murree with his family.

There was no point in stalling this further. She had thought of giving the diary to one of her sisters and asking her to contact Muaz but she rejected the notion right away. It didn't seem right, for whatever reason.

That led her here, in her room, close to midnight, contemplating the pros and cons of such a move.

Oh, for heaven's sake!

She put the caution to the bin and took the plunge. It was just a phone call. She just needed to inform the guy that one of his things was with her and he should get it back as soon as possible. That's it.

She picked up her phone and dialed the number, waiting for the call to connect.

It did. After three rings.

"Hello?"

His sleep-laden voice made her chew her lip nervously. Gosh, she had woken him up.

"Umm Muaz?"

Good going, Unaiza. She rebuked herself internally.

"Yes, speaking. Who's this?"

His query was sharp. Must've thought of it to be a spam call of sorts.

"It's Unaiza."

There was a short pause on the other end.

"I think the timing is really odd. I should—"

But he interrupted her. "Hey! I'm sorry for the late response but I was just surprised to know it's you. How are you by the way?"

Unaiza felt her unease melting away slowly. "Just fine. I'm sorry for waking you up at this hour but my schedule is all over the place these days and it's only close to midnight when I get free."

"Actually, I said surprised when it really is pleasantly surprised so save your explanations."

That earned him a chuckle from her. "But I do have a reason for hitting you up this late. I don't usually call people at this hour."

"Do enlighten me for what I've been bestowed with this privilege?"

"Your diary. It's with me."

"Is it?" He inquired.

"Uh-huh. You left it behind in the resort and the cleaning staff gave it to me."

"God! I thought I'd lost it. Thank you for keeping it safe with you."

Unaiza laughed lightly. "You're talking as if you'll come and retrieve it from me first thing in the morning. The wise thing to do here is to get another diary."

"I tried. But I couldn't record anything in it. It's kind of embarrassing but I take my diary very seriously. When the flow is disrupted, that's the worst thing that can happen."

Unaiza was impressed. But she was sitting here in PECHS and he was there in Murree. The distance was too much to make a round trip.

"Are you seriously going to visit Karachi just for your diary?" She asked incredulously.

Muaz tsked disappointedly. "I wish I could but I'm joining my new posting tomorrow. It's in Bahawalpur."

"Touche. Now what?"

Muaz rested his head back on the pillow. "You keep it safe with you and I'll come for it whenever I get the chance."

Unaiza leaned against her pillow. "Done. And don't worry. I won't read it."

"I know you won't. That is self-explanatory."

Unaiza raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of trust in someone you've just got reacquainted with."

"I'm a good judge of character."

"But pretty shitty at taking care of your things." She dead-panned.

Muaz's reply was a hearty laugh. "I deserve this drag."

Silence prevailed between them. Unaiza knew the phone call needed to end now. Muaz was also aware.

They did end up exchanging goodbyes and goodnights but there was a slight wish in both their hearts that the call could prolong a bit more.

𝄞

Sila was in the lounge, mindlessly skimming through the channels. Nothing could capture her interest. She hadn't switched the TV on for that matter anyway. The noise was the tune out of the uproar in her mind, and the motion was to distract herself from glancing at the door every moment.

But when the door clicked open, she didn't take a nanosecond to be fully attentive toward it. Her heart hammered in her chest as she spotted him entering inside.

But...

He looked worse than when he was in the car with her. Instinctively, Sila reached his side.

He glanced at her. It was blank but why could she spot a frenzied determination there?

"Has Elma finalized the event?"

Sila was taken aback. Was he for real? Why was he still stuck there?

She nodded, not getting a good feeling about it. Aahil took a step forward and held her from her shoulders.

"Sila, you're not going to work on this project."

Sila kept on looking at him and then, slowly, pushed his hands away. "Was it a declaration or an order?"

Aahil visibly flinched. "A plea."

It was Sila's turn to give him a derisive chuckle. "Of course, it was."

Aahil made a desperate attempt to reach out to her again but she halted his movements. "What is wrong with you, Aahil? Is it about my connection with him? You must've got to know that we've been professionally acquainted and you don't like it?"

His jaw tightened. "Don't put words into my mouth, Sila. You know this is the last thing I'll give two hoots about."

"Then why? I do understand that you don't like him. I figured it out during ACHC. But that gives you no right to sabotage a career opportunity for me."

Aahil closed his eyes momentarily. "Sila, can't you trust me on this one?"

She took a long pause. Then shook her head. "I can't. Not when you don't trust me with anything. You're in no position to ask me to trust you when you yourself don't do the same."

Aahil's stance hardened. So did Sila's. She walked away from him toward their bedroom when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I can't let you be a part of this." He said curtly.

She didn't turn around, didn't face him. Just let a tear roll down her cheek. "And I can't believe what we've become."

With that, she left from there, without making a noise, leaving a trail of what ifs behind.

𝄞