The excruciating wait associated with hospitals was not easy to come to terms with. Not when the uncertainty of everything was enough to make them mad with worry.

Adan held her mother's arm, her grip was reassuringly firm. They were waiting for the doctor but the news had their hopes high.

She was there in the ICU when the miracle happened.

Aahil had woken up.

He had, right before her eyes. The thing they all were waiting for, as if their lives depended on it had come to be.

Dr. Noordin's team had taken over from there. Adan was sent out of the room. Visibly shaken but deeply ecstatic, she had rushed to tell the rest of her family that their wait was over.

Aahil had woken up.

The moment was etched on Adan's memory. How right did it feel, when he opened his eyes as if nothing in this world would ever go wrong? The euphoria she felt, the relief of her parents and the whole family.

Aahil had woken up.

But she couldn't unsee the desperation in his stance. There was a heartbreak to this win, a sense of loss to something that was nothing but a glorious victory.

Sila.

He hadn't been able to utter a proper word yet but the one that still made sense was just that.

Sila.

Even in such a delicate condition, when he'd just defeated the odds, he was worried just for her. His eyes had been able to convey everything. And the story of despair that they narrated was enough to break Adan's heart.

What had gone wrong? Sila's disappearance and Aahil's accident. This wasn't a coincidence.

"Good evening, everyone."

Dr. Noordin's arrival in his office pulled her out of her musings. Beside her, Sabah looked on anxiously at the doctor. He gave her a reassuring smile, probably the first of its kind since the moment they had brought Aahil here.

"Your son has gained consciousness, Mrs. Jahangir. You can smile now."

His encouraging words made Sabah teary-eyed. A fitting response, if his patting her hand and Faseeh's shoulder was any indication. The last couple of hours were the hardest of their lives. They knew, with conviction, never in their lives, they'd be through such an ordeal again. They hoped they wouldn't have to.

"How's Aahil, Doctor?"

Faran asked. Since the moment Aahil had come back to his senses, the team of doctors and nurses was running through the needed evaluations to ascertain his neurological and physical health. They hadn't let any of them meet him and Faran was desperate to see his brother.

"The big question mark of him slipping into a coma is now behind us." Dr. Noordin began in a reassuring tone.

"But as I've told you, TBIs are not easy to get rid of. Aahil is, right now, in the acute phase of his TBI. As soon as his physical health gets better, we'll shift him out of the ICU. His motor and sensory functions will take a while to get back to normal. He'll need constant care and rehabilitation. Probably for months to come. Physical and speech therapies and other measures. Once his cognitive, behavioral, and neuropsychological health is in better condition, he will be able to make a complete recovery. But as I said, it's a long process. Right now, he needs to be under observation in the ICU for some hours. As soon as the strain on his head gets better, the subacute phase of his treatment will commence."

Even before the doctor's long explanation, Adan knew that this path wouldn't be easy. Aahil had dodged death narrowly. And this kind of luck never comes without its vices.

But here was the silver lining. He was alive and he hadn't slipped into an indefinite coma. They'll be as patient and caring toward him as was expected out of them. He was there. With them. Among them. Everything else was workable.

The resolve burned not in her but in every Jahangir's mind. They were family and they always looked out for each other. It was time to sort out Aahil's every worry.

Starting from the person he needed the most right now.

"Did you get any information about Sila?"

Sabah asked when they were out of the doctor's office. Mrs. Irshad also looked on expectantly at Faran who shook his head.

"Not yet. Her flight landed in Islamabad in the morning. If she were to leave for Murree, she would've reached there by now but Ikram Uncle and Naheed Auntie say that she's not showing up."

"Which means she's still in Islamabad," Mahad added.

"Or stuck on her way to Murree." Faseeh pointed out, thoughtfully. "Not a far-fetched possibility. The roads to Murree are jam-packed these days. The shift in the season has caused a boom in tourism."

He took out his phone and scrolled down his contacts.

"Baba, are you sure?"

Faran asked worriedly. Faseeh nodded stiffly. "Involving the authorities is a risk I'm willing to take if it means we'll get to know where Sila is."

"You should do it, Faseeh." Mrs. Irshad wiped a lone tear from her cheek. "It's been hours since our child is missing. We don't even know why she'd go to Islamabad other than the hunch that she must be on her way to her ancestral home. I'm worried for her. I hope she's not stuck in any difficult situation. She needs us."

Her words echoed with everyone. Sila needed to be here among them all. With her people. There was a slight exchange between Faseeh and Faran. They needed to contact every authority they could. No matter if half of them Faseeh was wary of. This would give them more fodder to feed their rumors about Aahil's personal life but it was a risk they'll have to take.

Aahil was out of danger. It was high time Sila would be no longer out of the loop.

𝄞

The wintery hues had descended on the valley for quite some days. The influx of tourists wasn't a novelty. They were used to this galore this time of the year. This was the norm, had always been.

Not for the residents of Dak Bangla as it was known in the local vernacular. Residence of Ikram Ayaz and his family, the house was never a Dak Bungalow. Its close vicinity to a British post gave it the name. The foreigners were interested in buying the place but the valor of Dilawar Ayaz, Ikram's great-grandfather, kept them at bay. He used to sit guard outside his house with his Kalashnikov. Lest the invaders got any ideas.

That was one such incident of a long history replete with acts of bravery and courage. Ikram was proud of it. But right now, familial pride was the last thing on his mind as he paced the length of his living room. His feet on the wood paneling were an ominous echo. Every once in a while, his scowl would deepen showcasing his disappointment.

Naheed placed her hands on the armrest. "You should sit down. This won't help us."

She said anxiously. That did nothing to stop his pacing. She sighed, resting her head against the wall.

Ikram looked at her defeated form and snorted angrily. Naheed glared at him.

"Getting angry at me won't solve this." She dropped her head in her palms. "My poor kid. Not knowing where she is killing me. God knows where she's stuck. This city's traffic is a pain around this time of the year. I don't know what to do and think."

Ikram stopped. "Why are her in-laws not doing anything? They should've found her by now."

"They're trying. It's not easy. They've had their hands full."

She had come to know about Aahil's accident fleetingly through the girls and Mrs. Wadia. The extent of the damage she had no idea about. But the news alone had squeezed her heart.

Ikram gave a long stare to his wife. Sighing to himself, he settled his sweater and walked toward the door. Naheed was immediately by his side.

"What are you doing?"

He picked up his coat from the hook. "What I should've done the moment I got to know about everything."

Naheed shook her head. "The roads are blocked. How will you look for her? Muaz will be here shortly. He said he'll find her."

"His leave will take some time to get approved. You can't expect me to sit idle in the meantime."

He was visibly offended. Naheed wanted to be happy. She'd always known that beneath his hard exterior, Ikram had a soft spot for Sila but she was too worried to do any such thing.

"My heart says she's not here, Ikram. Why would she be?"

Her burning question was left hanging between them. No matter his concealed soft side for Sila, Naheed would never leave any chance to tell him he didn't show that side to anyone. Even though Sila deserves it from him.

"And you can't drive outside of city confines. You will get stuck in the traffic. It's better to wait for Muaz. He will definitely find his sister."

She patted his shoulder and took the coat from his hand. Ikram Ayaz couldn't say a word in protest.

It's not like she had said anything wrong.

𝄞

Being alive and being submerged in water were two different states. One ensured you were counted among the living. The other pulled you closer to your eventual demise.

But an amalgamation of both rendered you a part of none. You're alive but are you really? On solid ground but the water is everywhere.

Water. The memory book, lying on the open shore, its pages soaked and ruined. There is water inside you. Around you. You open your mouth but you're underwater and the words elude you. Your breaths are easy but your life is anything but.

And you ask yourself, is there any life remaining?

Life left you, didn't it? It had already gone when the inevitable hit you. When your world tumbled on its axis, life wasn't anywhere close. It had already slipped through your fingers.

Its hold slacked around your hand. When you told it that you didn't care.

You bloody didn't.

And life forgot you after that. Radio silence. Distant. Static. Everything.

In and out. The precipice. This world. Or his dreamland. Both mingling into each other. He came back to his senses. He lost his senses. Several times in a single day. He heard the whispers. He understood those. But they didn't make much sense. Nothing made any sense.

The pain was an unwelcome companion. The heartache never asked for his permission and took the seat closest to him.

And when the haze lifted, he'd open his eyes. A herculean task.

His people. Mama. Her shaky embrace. So warm. So his. The sanctuary. Baba's hands. Caressing his forehead. Would he let him hold his finger and navigate his way forward? Faran Bhai, the rock he always had. Adan, the support he always refused but always needed. Dado, the epitome of love and coddling.

He had everything.

Then why did his throat become clogged with tears as if he had lost everything? Osama and Mahad. His people. His ride or die. Alina. Osama was worried for her. And she was worried for Aahil.

Haleh. Did he ever expect to see her so distraught? Rameen and Amal. Confused yet hurt to see him. Mrs. Wadia. Danish. Misam Bhai.

Everyone was here. Everyone he remembered. Everyone his mind immediately recognized. Few faces he saw from up close and most of them from afar.

And with every face that wasn't hers, his heart broke, once again, chip by chip. Was it humanly possible for a heart to wither away the way he did?

But why would she be among the people gathered here? Didn't he push her away? Didn't he say those awful words to her? Then why was he crying now? Didn't he always know he'd ruin everything with his bare hands? He had. Gloriously.

Where was she? No one seemed to give him the right answer. Not that he could voice this question with the desperation he felt from within. We'll find her. That's what Adan had said. She'd mentioned Islamabad. Why Islamabad?

A sharp pain in his head had him flinching his eyes shut.

"Aahil?"

Faran's face hovered over him. He looked at his brother. The pain ebbing away.

"Does it hurt?" Faran asked gently. Aahil looked away. The tear made a well-known path down the side of his face.

Everything hurts. The physical pain was at par with the heartache.

"Sila will be here soon. I'll make sure of it."

Faran's words didn't do the intended. Instead of comforting him. They broke him once again.

"It's about her, isn't it?" Faran held his frail hand. The cannula dug into it didn't feel foreign anymore. Nothing about his physical body did. He was torn and broken. Put back together with great effort. He'd made as much peace with it as his medicine-induced delirium could allow.

"We were careless, Aahil. We should've looked for her sooner. But nothing's lost yet. I promise you. We've already informed the authorities there in Islamabad and Murree. I'm leaving in about an hour. We'll—"

The shaking of Aahil's head had Faran stopped immediately. He opened his mouth but the mere effort was daunting for him.

He had absolute pity for the person lying on the hospital bed, struggling to utter a proper sentence.

The person who was him.

The reality he wanted to forget, but couldn't do so. The sedatives couldn't alter the memory.

"Aahil...do you know where Sila is?"

Faran asked hopefully.

If he weren't restricted by his battered body, Aahil would've laughed at this. His brother thought he'd know.

What a sick joke.

"She landed in Islamabad but hasn't yet reached her Uncle's place. So far, she hasn't checked into any hotel. She might be on her way to Murree. The roads aren't exactly clear these days."

Faran muttered absentmindedly. For a moment, everything in that room was normal. Faran was sharing his worry with his brother and his brother was fully able to help him.

How he wished.

He sighed and got up to leave. He had to take care of everything here before he left for Islamabad. He also needed to make a call to Muaz.

But as he moved away, he felt a slight tug on his arm. He looked down and found Aahil holding his wrist.

Faran immediately sat down. "Hey, do you need something?"

Aahil tried to get the words out but this might be the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"Don't strain yourself." Faran reprimanded.

Aahil closed his eyes but then opened them with a newly found courage. He opened his mouth when a slight whisper left him.

Neither he nor Faran was surprised that it was Sila's name.

Faran caressed his hair. "She will be here with you soon, Aahil."

Aahil's eyes bored into his. Faran had to look away. Both knew this promise was futile.

"She will be. I know it. When she reaches Murree, Muaz will let us know and I'll go there to get her."

"S...she w..won't.."

Faran's eyes widened at his muffled cry. Tears of frustration shone in Aahil's eyes.

"She won't...go to Murree?"

Faran whispered more to himself than Aahil. Aahil nodded.

This made sense. Sila hadn't yet reached Murree because...she was never going there in the first place. Aahil had just cemented this notion.

Faran looked deep in thought. "This narrows it down to just Islamabad. She must be there. Shouldn't be difficult to find her now. I'll just notify the police commissioner and—"

He saw Aahil struggling again and rushed to listen to him. If only he could read his brother's mind. He would spare him so much strain.

"H...er....pare....rents.."

Aahil's words were garbled but Faran had heard them loud and clear.

Her parents.

He thought for a moment and went out of the ICU.

Once in the hallway, he dialed Muaz's number. As soon as the call connected, he cut to the chase.

"Muaz, is there any place in Islamabad that belongs to Sila's parents?"

Whatever he got to know from the other side was encouraging because his face was suddenly filled with determination and relief.

He reentered the room and gave Aahil a sad but sweet smile, in awe of his brother's love for his wife. Even in such a pitiful condition, he knew where to look for his love.

Faran left after a while with renewed energy but the person lying on the hospital bed was far from being optimistic.

He knew if she'd gone to Islamabad, there was no place other than her parents' old apartment where she would be.

He also knew the brutality with which he had broken her heart, there was no place other than her parents' old apartment where she'd go to feel the warmth she needed to get through this.

He was in several kinds of pain.

But the pain of knowing trumped it all.

𝄞

Napping at odd hours was something Sila had always discouraged. She wasn't built for this. The untimely dozing off would make her cranky and her whole day would be in jeopardy.

But she'd recently figured that sleeping through your heartbreak was one fine way to keep the implications at bay. Since the moment she came here, all she did was cry and sleep in through her pain. Rinse and repeat.

It hadn't helped exactly. She didn't expect it to. But it made her oblivious for at least some time and that was more than welcome.

If only she could do something about her dreams that refused to lock him out and featured him in every tiny detail.

Trying to rid herself of his thoughts wasn't easy but for her sanity, she had to try.

She sat up straight on the mattress and hugged her torso. The winter season was about to get ferocious in Islamabad. Her flimsy excuse of a shawl was suited for Karachi's mild temperature fluctuation but it was useless here in Islamabad where the nip in the air had her shivering.

She also hadn't eaten anything since she got here which was adding to her debilitating spirits. Food was the last thing on her mind but she had to nourish herself. She was already on her knees. The blow her heart had endured left her too battered and broken to do anything. Starving herself would be taking it a notch higher and she was better than that.

The place didn't have any arrangement she could use for cooking a one-time meal. She had no desire to go outside. Mrs. Asif, the next-door neighbor, was yet to know she was here. If she had, she would've knocked at her door several times now. Sila didn't want her to witness her in such a sorry state. She also didn't want her to make any assumptions.

She got up. Eating was the last thing on her mind but it was the immediate need of her body. Her eyes darted across the room. Her phone was on the table. She took small steps and picked her hand carry from her luggage. She'd have to charge this device. Only then she'd be able to do something about her basic human needs.

She knew what awaited her as soon as her phone came back to life. Was she ready to face the world after the disaster her life had gone through?

She wasn't sure. But what she found herself absolutely unprepared for was his calls and texts. He would've gone berserk. He would've. Wouldn't he? What would she do about that? Would she be able to respond to him? What she possibly say to him?

Wasn't this the very reason she'd refused to charge her phone? But he wasn't just the only person in her life. Her friends would have her head if she prolonged the disappearing act. Ammi, Banu Auntie, Muaz Bhai, her in-laws. Everyone would be worried.

But she had put only one person in her focus.

Even though he had broken her heart more callously than she had ever expected anyone to do.

Oh, Sila. You'll always be a pathetic fool in love. She rebuked herself and inserted the charger pin into the phone socket.

The screen brightened instantly. She looked around, waiting for it to boot up. It was a good thing that all these years, she hadn't missed any payment for the maintenance charges. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to survive without the basic necessities. She just needed to do something about her food.

Then she'd sit down and think things through with a clear state of mind.

Very important decisions. Those she was here to ponder on anyway.

The home screen loaded and so did her network. Instantly, her phone started pinging with incoming texts and missed calls. The influx wasn't unexpected but it still took her by surprise. She let it all come through and once her phone had its peace back. She leaned against the table.

Her heart thudded erratically. She slowly went through the notification bar.

Faran Bhai, Adan, Jahangir Residence, Faseeh Uncle, Amal, Haleh, Rameen, Wadia House Landline, Muaz Bhai, Ammi, Mahad, Osama, Alina, some more numbers that were not saved in her phone.

Then were the text messages. All ranging from asking about her whereabouts, to begging her to pick up her phone. Gentle coaxing or straight-up angry shouting.

She took it all in.

But with every scroll, her hopes plummeted.

So many names. But his was nowhere to be found.

The last time he had tried to contact her was two hours after she'd left their...his place.

And then...nothing.

Sila placed the phone back on the table and tried to get ahold of herself.

"It's...okay."

A broken whisper left her mouth. And with it a muffled sob.

She shook her head, as if ashamed of her treacherous heart. Why did it hurt so bad? Why was she so affected? After everything he'd said to her, this shouldn't have felt like someone sliced her insides, probably her heart open.

But was she this insignificant? Was her departure worth just 4 tries to call her? And never try again?

Was he done to that extent with their relationship? With her?

Every other thought left her mind. Just the pain remained. Eating her from within. She sat down on the cold floor. Her phone pinged again. She didn't even spare it a glance. What was even the point now?

It could've been minutes. Maybe hours. But her mindless thoughts were put to a halt with a knock at the main door. She was jolted out of her trance.

Has Mrs. Asif finally figured out that she was here? She didn't want to see her. Or anybody for that matter.

But the rapping was incessant. She stood on shaky legs and mustered the courage to face someone after hours of solitude.

The door swung open when she twisted the rusted knob.

Mrs Asif wasn't standing there on the threshold, much to her chagrin.

A visibly annoyed and relieved Muaz was.

There. The hours of solitude and mourning her love were finally over.

𝄞

His direction had bore fruit. Sila was at her parents' old apartment. Muaz had found her.

Adan had told him. Beaming with joy. A smile etched on her face.

He couldn't look at that for long. The relief of everything being sorted gnawed at him when he knew nothing was back in its place.

His consciousness was getting better. He wasn't going unresponsive for hours. His oblivion was slowly reducing. A remarkable recovery route, as his doctor had told everyone. Slow steps. But they counted a lot toward his overall health. He'd be able to shift to the room from the ICU in a couple of days.

Right then, all his body and mind needed was to relax.

A thing of the past. He mused. His cognitive function was surprisingly the least affected even after the kind of injury he had. But that didn't mean his body had taken the hit well. The pain was slowly making its presence known.

His family and friends had taken turns to see him. Only one person was allowed at a time. But sometimes, liberties were taken.

His garbled conversation with Faran had left him so frustrated and hurt that he didn't try to talk to anyone after that. What was he supposed to say anyway? It was still a miracle that he hadn't been interrogated for what he did that made Sila leave the way she did.

That intensified the hurt.

He had done absolute injustice to her. He had been crass and callous. He made her think this marriage was still a compromise for him. When it had never been that. Not when it was supposed to be nothing but that.

And what he did afterward. Told her he didn't care when she called him the man she loved.

Was there any end to his cruelty? He deserved nothing but hell from her. From everyone.

But there he was. Being treated with all the care in the world. Delicate hands and soothing words.

He needed those. He did. But did he deserve this gentleness?

No.

He could see from the glass window. Amal, Rameen, and Haleh had taken their leave the moment they knew Sila was safe. They'd try to reach her. Might pay her a visit at Murree. Wondering why their beloved friend shut the whole world out.

But not once did they turn around and glared at him. Not once did they shake him to get the answers.

Under normal circumstances, they'd give him a tough time. No questions asked. But his pitiful state made them swallow their questions and be there for him.

When he was the least deserving of it.

Not after what he did to Sila. He didn't deserve any softness after crushing her hope beneath his feet.

This accident might look like an ordeal but for him, it had become a boon. It had saved him from very deserving shunning.

And he hated it.

He was bedridden. Unable to reach out to the person he'd wronged the most.

And he hated that even more.

How he wished he could change the time and tide both.

If he could, he'd have never let Sila go. And if that was inevitable, he'd never let his car go out of control to land himself where he was.

But he couldn't do any such thing.

He couldn't do much.

So, wallowing in his misery was his fate from hereon.

𝄞

Muaz had never been a typical older brother to her. She'd often stated his laid-back attitude with pride shining in her eyes.

But the sanest ones also have their moments.

He had been pissed. Sila had gathered that much by his stiff body language. He hadn't said much. Just looking around the house and the lack of proper living arrangements had his scowl deepened.

What was enough for Sila as a shelter felt like a self-induced exile to Muaz.

"You..." He opened his mouth. Sila knew the scolding of the century was coming her way. She braced herself for it. She didn't know what she'd say in her defense. She had been careless. Mourning a failed relationship had been her only focus. Loser move. Not that she had many victories in her bag lately.

But Muaz's ringing phone saved her. He looked at the caller ID and sighed.

"Jee Ammi."

He said, all the while giving Sila a warning glare to stay put. She did as she was told, begrudgingly so.

"Yeah, she's standing right in front of me."

What was said from the other side made him grimace.

"What do you mean by "meri baat karwao"? I won't lie to you now, would I? I'm bringing her home. You can talk to her to your heart's content then. And please, stop crying. She's fine. You can have my word."

His voice turned tender at the end.

Oh, Ammi. The gravity of her mishap hit Sila right in her heart. Love closed its door on her and she shut the whole world out?

Self-pity couldn't get more pathetic than this. She had turned into someone she'd never wanted to. All thanks to the lunacy called love.

"Gather your stuff, Sila and I want no further arguments. You've already done enough."

Muaz warned her. She scowled at him. She wanted to stand her ground and stay put but...

She was tired. And so alone.

So very alone.

She'd come here to seek her parents' warmth. Naively so. Forgetting that sometimes, mere memories aren't enough to give you the anchor you crave. They can't cushion your fall.

But that was the only place she could call her own.

Muaz made an impatient sound, bringing her out of her thoughts. She made no move to do as he had told her, still conflicted.

That's when she heard it. The footsteps behind Muaz. The person who appeared in the doorway made Sila do a double take.

Muaz lacked her shock. He turned around and looked at Ikram Ayaz with concern.

"Abu, I told you to stay in the car. The building's elevator isn't working."

Ikram raised his hand to tell him he was fine but climbing the flight of stairs had taken its toll on him. He was the least bothered by that. Looking at Sila with relief written on his face.

Sila's nose stung with tears. Ikram looked around at the place. He swallowed his emotions and looked at her with something akin to a plea in his eyes.

"Ghar chalein, Sila?"

That broke something in her but sewed it back together. All at the same time. Through her tears, Sila nodded meekly. Muaz picked up the rest of her stuff as she gathered her phone and her charger. Not letting the doubts cloud her judgment, she made her way out of her childhood home toward her childhood dream house.

𝄞

Mahad and Osama eyed the plastic package without uttering a word. The on-ground staff, very dutifully so, had secured Aahil's belongings scattered during the accident and brought them to return.

His wallet and phone were inside the plastic covering. Faran and Faseeh were inside Dr. Noordin's cabin to discuss Aahil's health once again. This left Osama and Mahad to collect the things as they were no less than family.

Aahil was safe, sound, and very much alive. Though his physical health was in no optimistic condition, the doctors were hopeful he'd make full recovery. It might take months but he'd be as good as new.

Still, seeing the package before them, Mahad and Osama both shuddered.

This same thing, in different circumstances, would've torn them apart shred by shred.

The implication that their friend had narrowly escaped death was all-consuming. Aahil had been lucky. This could've turned into a different route with a slight change of his fate.

The thought was unsettling to say the least.

Osama was the first one to move away from the stuff before him. Mahad did no such thing.

Aahil was alive. The truth of the day.

He'd need everything in this plastic bag, sooner or later. His wallet, his CNIC, his driving license if he was allowed to touch a car again in his life (the chances of which were not high), his other documents, and his phone.

The thing had endured the worst. Only a crack on its screen. Rest it looked in a working condition. The incoming text from the telecom company confirmed it. Mahad chuckled at that. Osama glared at him. But his relief was also not easy to conceal.

Aahil was alive. The truth of the day. A beautiful one at that.

𝄞

The 1-and-a-half-hour drive from Islamabad to Murree was stretched due to the traffic but at long last, they'd reached the heart of the hill station where Dak Bangla was situated.

Sila glanced at the house looming beyond. Her grandfather's house. Their ancestral property. She snuggled into the sweater Muaz had given her. But the difference between the two extremes of her life couldn't be more telling. Karachi with its mild weather and Murree with its skies ready to erupt with snow.

She took small and slow steps to reach the main house. Flashes of the last time she was here came to her, abrupt and invasive. The hurt she'd been subjected to. The care she'd received from him.

Stop it, Sila!

She wanted to shout in her mind. She didn't want to reminisce about the good times. They were a farce. The reality was the truth.

She stopped outside of the door, contemplating her next move. She'd come so far. Why was she second-guessing it now? Not that she could turn around and leave.

She didn't have it in her to do that. Not after the person who'd come to get her.

She glanced at Ikram Ayaz. His usual countenance was back in place. Not a hint of the vulnerability she saw back in her parents' apartment. As if she'd imagined it. Conjured it up to make this easy for herself.

The door clicked open, putting a halt to her troubled thoughts. Naheed's teary face came into Sila's vision before she was engulfed in a motherly hug.

And at that moment, Sila wanted to bawl her eyes out. She's been craving this. She'd gone to her old house in search of this.

But this was here, all the time.

"Who does this to her Ammi, Sila? I was worried sick!"

Naheed complained as she took Sila inside the house.

"I can't tell you my relief on seeing you fine before me. Don't do that again, Bachay."

Sila couldn't face her. The gravity of her carelessness was right before her. But where Naheed was gentle in her approach, not everyone was going to coddle her the same way.

"That was extremely irresponsible of you, Sila."

Muaz said, not paying attention to Naheed's warning glare.

"Were you out of your mind? You left without telling anyone. Your phone was unreachable and of all the places you could've gone to, you chose Islamabad!"

Naheed tried to intervene but he didn't let her.

"One minute, Ammi. Let me talk to her. I'm her brother and I have every right to be cross with her on this."

He, once again, faced Sila. "How many people do you know there in Islamabad? And when were you going to give us a call? I was nearby, for God's sake! You could've hit me up! But you went there, hiding yourself from the whole world. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? If something were to happen to you, how would we know? We wouldn't, Sila! I can't tell you how disappointed I am."

He wasn't shouting. Even in his anger, he was contained but more than his words, his hurt hit Sila. She had made a huge blunder. He was right. Anything could've happened to her and no one would've known.

"Enough, Muaz."

Ikram Ayaz said. His word had a hint of finality to it which Muaz ignored. He was his son only.

"Abu, you can't dictate your way out of this. She had us all worried sick!"

Ikram scowled at him. It was identical to Sila's but she and Ikram both were oblivious to this fact.

"Boy, what's done is done. What can she possibly do to undo it all? Let it go. She's had a long day. All of us have. Let's get the needed rest."

He nodded in Naheed's way. "Take her to the room. Make sure she eats a proper meal. She hasn't had one in hours."

Was it that evident? Sila wanted to negate the assumption but it was the truth anyway so she stayed quiet.

Naheed held her and both made their way toward the stairs when Muaz's frustrated whisper reached Sila loud and clear.

"I need to make a call to Faran. Have to tell him that she's with us now. He was shaken, Abu. First the accident and then Sila's disappearance."

Accident?

Sila whipped around.

"What accident?"

The lack of response was the loudest echo of her nightmares.

No.

No.

No.

She freed her arm from Naheed's hold and reached Muaz's side.

"What accident, Muaz Bhai. Whose accident?"

Naheed came behind her, holding her by her shoulder. "Sila, when Mrs. Wadia called to inquire about your whereabouts, she mentioned an accident....Aahil's accident."

Her hold worked as an anchor otherwise Sila was sure she was about to collapse.

"So did Faran," Muaz said solemnly. "He didn't say anything other than that, so we don't know the severity."

Sila's state was not encouraging at all. Her face had gone pale as if the blood was squeezed out of her.

"He must be fine, Sila."

A lame attempt at calming her. Sila took a step back and looked around. Her eyes zeroed in on her purse. She wasted no time in picking it up. Without caring for anyone, she ran up the stairs and locked herself in the room.

Her hands shook and fumbled with her phone and its charger. It had gone blank again during the drive to Murree.

She hadn't cared then.

Now it was as necessary as breathing to her.

As soon as her home screen appeared, she didn't think anything through and dialed his number.

She was beyond rationality. If he had been through an accident, how would he pick up her call? Was he conscious?

No such thought occurred to her. She didn't let it.

She was calling him. And he ought to pick up his damned phone. That's it. He wasn't allowed to be any such thing her mind was screaming. He was safe, and sound, in his senses. Just that.

Full stop. She refused to entertain any other foolish thought!

𝄞

"They have cleansed it. It's safe to use whenever you can."

Mahad told him as he placed his phone between them. Aahil gave it a fleeting glance. Not that he could do much other than that.

"It has survived through the worst. Guess it's not much different than his owner. Tough fella."

In other circumstances, Aahil would've found his knowing smile infuriating but he couldn't contradict Mahad's apt assessment.

"Sam's on a call with Lina, trying to put some sense into her. She wants to come back home. Tell her you value the sentiment but you're not VIP enough to lose her job for."

Aahil stared at his face. His words didn't feel like a jibe. Even though he had tried them to be. The meaning was loud and clear.

"And no, Jahangir. You will tell her that. By yourself. We're no longer weightlifters for you."

The emphasis made it clearer. Mahad swallowed his emotions and Aahil blinked back his tears.

And between them, Aahil's phone lit up with an incoming call.

Mahad's eyes widened. He looked between the phone and Aahil. He wasn't supposed to use the device close to Aahil. Not in this condition. But the caller ID had him more panicked.

"It's Sila." He told Aahil, who suddenly looked as torn as he had never been before.

Sila's name shone there as a pretty endearment. So did her picture he'd set to her contact.

Mahad felt like an intruder. But what could he possibly do? Aahil was in no condition to talk to her. 

He gave Aahil a questioning look, not sure about his next course of action.

Aahil nodded slightly. Mahad didn't want to do this.

But he had to.

He answered the call, putting it on the speaker because no way in hell he was depriving Aahil of this.

"Aahil?"

Sila's worried voice came through. Aahil closed his eyes. As if her voice alone was his miracle. Mahad ran a hand through his hair. Why these two? Why!

"Hey, Sila. It's Mahad."

He was quick to tell her that. Not ready to intrude more than he already had.

"Mahad?" Sila's confusion was palpable. "Where's Aahil? Is he okay? I just heard something and you have to tell me it's a lie. Please, say it's a lie!"

She was crying, even though she tried her best to appear composed. It was enough to break Mahad's heart. He could only imagine what Aahil was going through.

"Why didn't he pick up his phone? Is he around? Is he fine? Please, say something, Mahad. If he needs me I'll leave everything and come back to him. I'm scared. Please, just tell me if he's okay."

Her voice was nothing but a broken whisper. Mahad looked at Aahil, imploringly. But Aahil's gaze remained trained at some point on the wall. With her every word, a tear ran down his face. Mahad wanted to take things in his hands and tell her everything. She needed to be here, close to Aahil.

He needed that. She did too.

But it wasn't going to be his decision.

And he could see, the one with that authority was about to make a decision that would break him the most in the process.

His warning glare did not affect Aahil. Just a firm shake of his head.

And Mahad knew he had no other choice.

"Sila..."

Mahad closed his eyes in regret. This fool hadn't uttered a single word. But Mahad knew what he wanted. He hated having that expertise.

"He's perfectly okay."

Sila's sigh of relief felt like a slap to Mahad.

"Is he?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes. He did get into an accident but it was a minor one. He got off easy. Just a concussion and a busted lip. Both things are making it hard for him to talk. You need not worry. He's ... fine."

Aahil didn't blink through this conversation. His glassy eyes were blank. Bottomless pits of nothing. Enough to scare anyone.

Hollow. Empty.

"How are you, Sila?"

Mahad asked and that made her withdraw immediately. As if the spell had broken and she was back to her senses.

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Please, keep me updated about his health...and when he's able to ...talk ...tell him...tell him..." She took a shuddering breath. Mahad waited for her to say it. He needed her to say it.

"I think I'm going to go. Bye, Mahad."

With that, the call ended.

The realization that things between Aahil and Sila were ruined beyond their imagination hit Mahad right in the face.

Aahil's refusal to let her know about his sorry state, Sila's frantic queries, and then her awkward and abrupt goodbye.

This was a...disaster. Of the dangerous kind.

"She is never going to forgive you for this."

Mahad made a point to let him know.

Not the only thing I need her forgiveness for.

Aahil's mind shouted. But he remained silent. Not that he had any other choice.

"She deserves to know, Aahil."

And she deserved fucking better from me. Far better than what I dished out to her.

His silence grated on Mahad's nerves. But he didn't have any other choice now, did he?

"You've ruined your life all over again, do you realize that?"

He had. But only he'll put it back together. She deserved that more than anything. She didn't need to mend what she hadn't broken. He'd refuse to use his vulnerability to get her back into his life. Without putting in any effort. Without proving to her that he deserved her. That he was worthy of her. He was far better than that. And she deserved lots more than that.

He had closed the door of ease on himself.

It hurt.

Badly.

But it was supposed to hurt. He couldn't evade the long way because life had thrown this accident in the middle.

Sila was worth the pain.

And he'd prove that he was worthy of her.

But for now, it hurt. His tears vouched for it.

Mahad held his hand. Trying to be there for this fool.

Who had made his own path difficult?

But it would bloom into something magnificent. Mahad was sure of it.

Aahil Jahangir had always done wonders when he was fully committed to something.

Whether it be his music.

Or his love for Sila.

Two great loves of his life. It was his journey back to both.

𝄞