Resting his head against the couch, Osama stared at the opposite wall. Mahad sat in front of him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He looked down at his mobile screen where the call with Alina was connected. The identical silence from her end made Mahad impatient.

“Sam, Lina, some words from you both will be much appreciated.”

He said, glaring at Osama. From the phone, Alina’s sigh could be heard. 

“We should’ve known. Sila isn’t the kind who’ll disappear without a word over nothing.” 

Osama ran a hand on his face. 

“It was about his past and Aahil is shit at sorting that phase of his life for good.” Alina’s voice was barely above a whisper. Even though she and Osama were well aware of Aahil’s tendency for mess-ups, they were still shocked when Mahad told them what he had figured out during Sila’s call.

“He didn’t tell me what he has done. Not that he can even if he wanted to. But it doesn’t take a genius. He is in pain, guys."

The image of Aahil’s distraught face while listening to Sila’s voice swirled before Mahad’s eyes. Once again, it hit him like a punch in the gut.

“And that pain is entirely different from the physical ordeal he is in. I’ve never seen him so defeated yet determined. He loves her. Immensely. So does she. But…”

But.

They had yet to learn what came after that. To what extent had Aahil gone this time? How badly he had ruined himself once again. 

It was one glorious fuck up. That they were sure of.

“I’ve been in contact with Rameen, Haleh, and Amal. Sila has shut everyone out. Even them. That’s not like her. I tried calling her as well but there was no answer.”

Alina told them. Sila’s aloofness made so much sense now that she had somewhat idea why she behaved this way. She had left Karachi. If that didn’t scream her hurt, Alina didn’t know what else would. 

“And now he doesn’t want her to know about his accident,” Osama muttered, more to himself. His scowl deepened as he looked at Mahad.

“That’s one more fuck-up on his ongoing list.”

Mahad looked away, not at all in disagreement with Osama. Aahil’s decision was a double-edged sword. Normally, Mahad would’ve called his bluff and completely disregarded his heroism. 

But.

Yes, again.

That call. Mahad was there with him as he listened to Sila’s voice. And Mahad, even after knowing him since they were just babies, could say with conviction that he had never seen Aahil like this before.

There was heartbreak, of course. The gaping hole in Aahil’s heart that no surgery could mend. 

Yet there was hope too. Hope had never been Aahil’s favorite anchor to hold onto. Determination that he discarded as an old piece of cloth, tossed aside as it served no purpose. 

And sheer will. As if he’d turn the tide. His current predicament would be a huge hindrance but that was the least of Aahil’s worries.

Sila was his priority. Not his health. Not his demons. Nothing.

Just Sila.

“We can’t hide this from her, Mahad.”

Osama’s grave voice broke his reverie of thoughts. Osama leaned forward, shaking his head.

“He is making another mistake. Hiding the truth from her will make things worse between him and Sila. He needs her and she needs to know what became of him after she left.”

Mahad pursed his lips. He had expected the exact response from Osama. His eyes darted toward his phone, waiting for Alina’s agreement. 

She remained quiet.

Mahad smiled slightly. Osama raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

Mahad leaned forward, mimicking Osama’s earlier action. “I think we should let him handle this the way he deems right.”

Osama’s eyes widened. “You are siding with him? You must be out of your mind!”

Mahad bobbed his head. “I’m still coming to terms with this, Sam. Don’t shame me.”

“Mahad, I kind of understand where you’re coming from but this isn’t as easy as you might be thinking.”

Alina spoke. Osama scowled at the phone and then at Mahad. 

“You know what? You two have lost your minds, and so has Aahil. This is not a joke. Neither it’s a hero show Aahil is treating it as.”

Mahad’s smile slowly morphed into a scowl. “Sam, we’ve been the witnesses to that clusterfuck, and Aahil’s less-than-healthy way of dealing with it. It’s been years, man. Didn’t he lose himself right before our eyes? Every attempt by his family and us to make him see sense went down the drain. Rebuking, gentle coaxing, therapy. Nothing worked. He let his past govern his present and ruin his future. And now, here we are. Seeing him through the disaster we all saw coming.”

He closed his eyes momentarily. It all flashed before his eyes as a film reel. He was certain it wasn’t any different for Alina and Osama as well. It was hard then and it was even harder now.

“His previous version wouldn’t have given a shit, Sam. He would’ve accepted his fate with slumped shoulders. But this is not the case this time around. He’s bedridden, he has narrowly escaped death but since the moment he had come to his senses, there’s only one person on his mind and one name he’s trying to utter—Sila.”

Osama’s eyes softened. Alina sniffled, not bothering to hide it from Osama and Mahad. 

“We all know Sila. No matter his fuck up, the moment she gets to know the disaster he’s made of his life, she’ll run to him. No questions asked. I’ve talked to her. She had heard just the word accident and Aahil’s name in the same sentence and she was ready to leave everything and come back. Whatever he’d done, all forgotten. But he’d denied himself this ease. He knows he owes her more than that. He knows she’s worth fighting for. And the fight is his. Him against the ghosts of his past. The doors he’d never unlock. You and I both know it’s not in his system to be a fighter in this regard. But for her, he’s ready to go to war. Don’t snatch this from him. His love deserves this. He also does. And so does Sila.”

“This…” Osama was still doubtful. “This is not…Look, I completely get your point, Mahad but…they both need each other.”

“Exactly what I used to tell him when you and Lina were apart. Guess what he said?”

Mahad stood up, patting his shoulder. 

“He said that a love like yours and Lina’s deserves to find its way on its own. He was one hundred percent sure that you both had it in you to return to each other. Hurts me to say this but he was absolutely right. Have the same faith in his love for Sila, Sam.”

“I have,” Alina spoke before Osama could.

Mahad smiled. “There you go. Learn something from your woman.”

He picked up his car keys and walked to the door. He had to make a quick stop at his house, take a shower, change, and go back to the hospital. He and Osama had wordlessly taken up the responsibility of staying the night outside the ICU.

From staying over at Jahangir Residence, and playing video games all night long to this, life had changed and how.

But they hadn’t.

And that’s what mattered the most.

𝄞

The door closed with a click and so did the gentle commotion of this house. She stood there, in the middle of it. Hands shaking and a headache thrumming in full force. As if she'd been through hell. Not much different. 

She had to explain to Ammi, Muaz Bhai, and Abu about Aahil's accident. Whatever Mahad had told her. Their knowledge about it wasn’t any better than hers. She had no idea if her words made sense. But when they walked out of the room, they didn't ask her any more questions.

Sila looked at the closed door. Dropping herself on the bed, she covered her face with her palms. 

If someone had told her just two days back, that in 48 hours she'd be in Murree nurturing a heart broken beyond repair, she wouldn't have believed a word of it.

The naive fool that she had been.

The stupid fool in love that she still was.

How the mere knowledge that he might be in danger spurred her to action. She forgot everything. 

Everything.

Love shouldn't be this powerful. It shouldn't make you lose your sanity. How did his words just vanish from her mind and what remained was the thought of his well-being?

And what she said to Mahad. It was mostly her panic speaking. 

But was it?

She couldn't look herself in the eye. What an injustice. Her heart was still in the palm of that man who had crushed it without a second thought. Even after knowing that he was well, she couldn’t stop worrying. She had to stifle the urge to see him.

Shame gnawed at her. Pathetic. Even after all this? Despite everything? In spite of nothing? 

Tears threatened to flow once again but she had to get a hold of herself. This was not her. This shouldn't be her. She was better than this. She had to be better than this. 

She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes darted around and stopped at the mirror on the opposite wall. 

She got up on unsteady legs and stood before her reflection. 

It mocked her. 

It tried to mimic everything she was but failed miserably. 

The tale of heartbreak. The story of pain. She hadn't said a word. But she might as well be shouting it from the rooftop.

And this room.

Her Baba’s old room. 

The room she had always stayed in whenever she came to Murree. 

Heartache everywhere. She had to choose which one she wanted to mourn. 

Maybe everything.

Mostly nothing.

𝄞

Lying on a hospital bed with your physical capabilities hindered but your mental anguish at an all-time high—torture. 

In the past several hours, Aahil had come to this conclusion. 

Reverberations. His silent room. Echoes of her voice. 

She was ready to leave and come running to him. Just one word associated with him. Accident. And she was about to forget his every mess-up.

How could someone be as lucky as him?

How could anyone be so unfortunate as him?

He denied himself this luxury. This ease.

In his mind, he simply didn't deserve it. If he had been less callous with her, he might have a shot at getting the easy way out. 

But he hadn't. 

So, no ease for him. Case closed.

Of course, she wouldn't be happy. When she got to know the whole thing, she'd be livid. She might want to kill him. He'd love that.

Too early to say. Too optimistic to hope. The reality begged to differ. He was in no position to envision a scenario that depended on his relentless pursuit of her forgiveness. Not without doing next to nothing about it. 

He had lots on his plate and his circumstances were not at all conducive to get to even one thing on his exhaustive to-do list. 

Getting ample rest was his only task, as he was told by his family and his doctors. 

As if.

Rest was the last thing on his mind but the only thing he was capable of doing.

He closed his eyes, willing the sleep to take over. It would. 

The only thing that came easy to him these days.

The only time he was with her. Close. Side by side.

Dreaming of her was his miracle. She was too. The only anchor he held onto.

𝄞

For as long as she could remember, her nightly routine of a bubble bath had been  a godsend. She might have had a shitty day at work or in general but an hour-long relaxing bath would make her feel light as a feather. 

Not tonight.

Some worries are bigger than any feel-good routine. The bath tonight did nothing to alleviate the heaviness she was surrounded with. The dark cloud of despair followed her everywhere. The greys that morphed into blues. She felt stranded on an abandoned island. 

She rubbed her hair with the towel absentmindedly. Her phone was in her focus. The influx of text messages and calls had slowed down. 

She was yet to reply to any of them. The only call she had made after her phone came back to life, embarrassingly so, was to that one contact at the bottom of the list of those who reached out to her.

She wanted to talk to all her well-wishers, to ensure them that she was doing okay and was not at all proud of how she’d dealt with the situation. But she needed to muster courage for that. 

The tale of heartbreak wasn’t easy to narrate. She didn’t even know where to begin. What to omit. What to share. What to keep to the dark recesses of her heart.

“Sila?”

The knock at the door put an end to her troubled thoughts. 

“Ammi, please come in.”

Naheed opened the door with one hand while in the other she held the tray. The instant aroma of homemade food hit Sila. She hadn’t eaten much the past few hours. Not a proper meal anyway. It was her last priority. Her growling stomach didn’t agree with that notion. She was human after all, no matter a broken one at the moment.

“Come on. Everything is piping hot. You need to replenish your energy.”

Naheed prompted. She placed the tray on the table and made her a plate. Sila sat down on the edge of the couch and took it from her hand. 

With the first morsel that reminded her of home, lazy afternoons, and her mother’s laughter, she felt her nose stung with tears.

Naheed caressed her hair. “What happened? Is it not good?”

Sila shook her head. “It’s very tasty. Your cooking is never a miss.”

“Then eat away. God knows when was the last time you ate properly. My poor child.”

Sila’s movements stopped. Naheed bit her tongue, internally cursing herself for the slip-up.

“Sila—”

“Won’t you ask me anything, Ammi?”

Naheed’s heart went out to her. She was trying to be brave, gathering the pieces of her shattered heart and pretending that it was whole. She reminded Naheed of her childhood when she was afraid to go to the attic but tried her best to appear fearless.

“I will.” Naheed caressed her face. “But right now my priority is to make sure my Bacha is well-fed and well-rested. Everything else can wait. So don’t fret and finish your food.”

Sila nodded dejectedly. 

She ate in silence and once she was done, Naheed stood up and rushed out of the room. Sila looked on confused when she returned with another bowl in her hand.

Sila’s eyes widened. Her favorite combination of brownie and vanilla ice cream. She had given up on it after her mother’s demise. The taste was reminiscent of so much. It was once her comfort, but now, it filled her with nothing but the pain of losing her Mama.

“My brownies are still not perfect but—”

Sila wiped her tears and hugged her, effortlessly putting a stop to her self-criticism. “Some things don’t have to be.”

Naheed smiled and put her arms around her. Sila didn’t know for how long she stayed there in her motherly embrace. She took small spoonfuls of the treat. For the first time in years, it didn’t make her want to bawl her eyes.

Sometimes, even grief takes pity on you.

Unlike people. 

Muaz appeared in the doorway. He had also showered and gotten fresh. Sila looked up at his profile. She scowled. Muaz grimaced. 

“Ammi, Abu is calling you.”

Naheed sighed. “Can’t you give company to your old man?”

He shook his head. “He doesn’t want me around. And when was the last time he had his dinner without you? You both are romantic like that.”

Naheed muttered under her breath. Instructing Sila to complete her food, she left the room. 

Muaz took the seat Naheed had just vacated. He eyed the dessert bowl. Sila immediately swatted his arm away.

“Come on! That's a lot for just one person.”

Sila remained silent, playing with her fingers without looking at him. Muaz sighed and shifted in his seat so that he’d be able to hold her by her shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I lost my calm.”

She glanced at him and shrugged. “It wasn’t cool but I deserved that. I have been careless.”

Muaz gave his sister a long stare. He was not habitual of seeing her this way. But it was too early to inquire. They had decided to give Sila the needed time. 

“So, are we cool now?”

He asked. She nodded and gave him the bowl. Muaz took it with a grin. As he was about to take his first spoon, Naheed’s voice from downstairs reached them.

“Muaz! Come down and have your dinner. Let Sila rest now.”

Muaz chuckled. “That’s my cue to leave and sort out whatever they’re again arguing on. Let’s hope it’s not the amount of Rotis this time around.”

Sila couldn’t stop a smile from reaching her lips. That was definitely something Ammi and Abu could fight on. She didn’t stop Muaz when he very inconspicuously took the bowl with him.

The dessert was more than enough for two people anyway.

Down the stairs, Muaz reached the dining table where an annoyed Naheed glared at her husband. Muaz raised an eyebrow.

“What happened now?”

“Your Abu wants to have a word with Faseeh Jahangir.”

Ikram Ayaz grunted, not at all perturbed by his wife’s disapproval. “They ought to tell us what that Ameerzada has made Sila go through. It’s high time we ask them the right questions.”

Muaz shook his head. “Abu, not now. We did decide that we’ll give Sila time to open up.”

“Exactly! We can’t start a new hassle, Ikram. And we certainly can’t talk over Sila.” Naheed’s tone softened now that she had her son’s support.

“But what did that imbecile do? Sila wouldn’t have left his place without any reason. He must’ve done something horrible! These Ameerzade are all the same.”

“Abu, he has a name!”

Ikram glared at his son. “I don’t care if he has two! He will be called as he has acted. An imbecile bigra hua ameerzada!”

His tone might be harsh but his concerns weren’t. Both Muaz and Naheed acknowledged that. 

What did Aahil do for Sila to leave everything and shut the whole world out? Only Sila could tell them. 

“Abu,” Muaz spoke, his words containing the finality he had gotten from the man before him. 

“Sila is with us right now. Safe and sound. That’s what matters the the most. About what went down between her and Aahil, only Sila will tell us. Whenever she’s ready. We won’t push her. She doesn’t deserve this coercion from us. Talking it out with the Jahangirs will also be Sila’s decision. We will stand with her. Let’s be her support, Abu. I know you want to protect her but this is how such matters are made worse. By outside involvement. Let’s not make it that.”

Ikram didn’t like his solution but it made sense. No matter how torn she was right now, they knew Sila had in her to take this decision for herself. She was more than capable. Naheed sighed when Ikram didn’t say a word more. An indication that he was somewhat convinced.

She was proud of Muaz for being the voice of sense.

But at the same time, she couldn’t help the ache she felt for Sila and for Aahil.

Her precious kids. What had they done to this relationship? What had it come to? How she wished their reality wouldn’t be so grave.

Up the stairs, oblivious to the conversation on the dining table, Sila tossed and turned on the bed to get some sleep. It was the only time her mind would be at peace and not racing a mile a minute. 

Her phone screen lit up at the same time. She leaned forward to check the caller ID. 

Amal Calling.

After her arrival at Murree, there had been no calls from the girls. Sila didn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on it. 

But now was the time to face the music.

“Amal?”

She whispered. The uncertainty in her voice was new. She had never been this nervous to talk to one of her best friends.

“We leave for Islamabad early in the morning. It’s going to be Banu Auntie, Reen, Haleh, and I. Thought of letting you know.”

“Amal I—”

“Get some rest, Sila. We will talk tomorrow. Face. to. face. And be assured that we won’t be considering any deflection. Good night.”

The call ended after that. 

Sila dropped her head on the pillow. Amal hadn’t shouted. She hadn’t cussed her.

That spoke of her hurt.

How many people had she disappointed while mourning a love that did nothing but give her insurmountable pain?

Sila wanted to punch herself.

“You’ve completely ruined my life, Aahil Jahangir.”

She whispered into the darkness. 

As if he could hear her.

How she wished. 

𝄞

Amal gave an incredulous stare to the men sitting before her. She then turned to her friends, to make sure they had heard the same thing as hers.

“Let me get this straight.”

Rameen’s confusion wasn't bordering on annoyance like hers did. Or being Rameen she was good at not losing her calm.

“You want us to not tell Sila about the severity of Aahil's accident.”

Osama grimaced. Now that she's voiced it, it sounded worse than it did when he and Mahad discussed it.

Beside him, Mahad appeared unfazed. “Precisely.”

Amal glared at him. “And why should we do that?”

M

ahad paused. His poise might've fooled anyone but Osama knew he wasn't as sure of himself as he let on.

“Because Aahil doesn't want her to know.”

“Is Aahil in a position to want any such thing?”

Amal’s scathing query made both Rameen and Haleh gasp. Osama closed his eyes. Only Mahad matched her glare.

“Amal.”

Something in Rameen’s tone made Amal shut up. 

"Look, Mahad.” Rameen turned to him.
“We can’t hide such a thing from Sila. That’s not how it goes. She deserves to know.”

Haleh agreed with her wholeheartedly. “Exactly. She’d want to know. She’ll be devastated if such a thing is kept from her.”

“And why the hell should she not? It’s about her husband. She should’ve been the first person to get informed.”

Amal still hadn’t gotten over the Jahangirs’ slip-up, it seemed. 

Mahad folded his hands, in deep contemplation. “Look, you all. I completely agree with whatever you’ve said. But for a while, let’s just pretend that Aahil’s accident isn’t in the picture.  In fact, forget Aahil altogether,. Focus on Sila. Why did she leave?”

The living room of Wadia House suddenly became eerily silent. 

“Isn’t it completely out of character for her to shut everyone out? Shut you three out, most importantly. What compelled her to do that? Not the wanderlust, I presume.”

Haleh opened her mouth to contradict him but nothing came out. She instead resorted to giving him a mean scowl.

“She left because Aahil did something. Something that hurt her beyond repair.”

“That’s between them.” Haleh finally spoke. “Nothing they can’t work on. How does hiding Aahil’s state from Sila help both of them anyway?”

“You put too much faith in your Dulha Bhai.” Mahad chuckled humorlessly. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” Haleh countered.

“Because you don’t know his proclivity for fuck ups the way we do, Haleh.” Osama took it up from Mahad, knowing too well he and Haleh were about to start their own show.

“You all are being good friends and Saalis. But Aahil is totally capable of ruining every good in his life. Not the first time he’s done it. All we are saying is, he did something that was beyond repair. It’s his responsibility to make it up to her. And he will. He doesn’t need this accident as an excuse for her to come to him.”

“Wait a second.”

Amal interjected once again. 

“You said this isn’t the first time Aahil has ruined something for himself. And you two are optimistic about the prospect of him finally taking ownership of his actions. Seems like a character development of sorts. I don’t know what happened to him but his emotional growth shouldn’t be at the expense of my friend’s emotional vulnerability. Do you have any idea what your fool of a friend means to my girl? Her love for him isn’t a character development device, for fuck’s sake.”

“And her love for him isn't an excuse for him to not make it up to her, Amal.” Mahad matched her tone. 

“This is not about Aahil's emotional growth. It's about him finally trying to win someone over who means the world to him. He loves her. And that love is worth every effort he's willing to make. You don't know what force a determined Aahil Jahangir is. This accident is more of a nuisance than anything in his path toward Sila. He thinks of it as a bane. He will never use it as a boon.”

Their conflict was still very much evident. “You're going to meet Sila. Her version of the events is the judge. Aahil's accident is his unfortunate disaster. It shouldn't be the solution for Sila's heartbreak. That's an injustice to both of them.”

Rameen, Haleh and Amal shared a look.

And suddenly they were not sure if this tiny detail would slip up when they met Sila. 

𝄞