The door closed behind her with a faint click. She took small steps to reach her bed and almost dropped herself.

The urgency with which she'd run away from the office building had left her. It was replaced by uprootedness, one that made her stumble.

The gravity of it was daunting.

Baba Jaan's lies, the truth behind her parents' death, years of living in the dark, believing a mirage, hoping to be a part of something that never was hers.

The illusion of it all.

The rude awakening. How could she think he was different? He had also been into...whatever this was.

Haleh closed her eyes in regret. She took a deep breath, trying to appear in control. Normal. Beyond the hurt.

Easier said than done.

She wouldn't cry. Wasn't she used to it? Didn't she understand very early on that life didn't come to her with the security it afforded to most people in the form of immediate family? Parents and siblings. She might not think of herself as a liability but for most people, she was just that. Someone who didn't bring any substantial value, a charity case, because no matter what, that's what orphans like her were reduced to. Their worth was contingent on their lack of familial security. Didn't she face it all her life? The moment people got to know she didn't have the cookie-cutter nuclear family unit at home, suddenly her wit, humor, and talent in art took a backseat. What remained was her obvious lack of normalcy in life.

A sob escaped her lips. God, she had vowed she wouldn't go there anymore. She had promised herself that she wouldn't let this thing define her, or influence her thought process but this bump on the road had triggered everything she put behind her.

Why had life panned out that way? Why was she suddenly ten again, who had lost something precious?

She wiped her tears, trying to console herself. No! This setback wouldn't define her. She still had so much in life to cherish and love—things that defined her and no one could take away—her talent, the girls, Saleema Baji, Uncle Jeff, Banu Auntie.

Banu Auntie...

As if on cue, the knock at her door jolted her out of her thoughts. With a sigh, she got up and opened it.

A worried Dinbanu stood outside her and Amal's shared room. Haleh saw the phone in her hand. It didn't take much to understand who Dinbanu had just talked to.

"Haleh..."

For a well-put-together woman like Dinbanu Wadia to appear uncertain was a sight Haleh had never seen before. Under normal circumstances, she'd have cherished it with a mischievous grin, but it only made her want to cry right then.

"You also...yeah...right."

A broken whisper left her mouth. The enormity of this situation hit her right in the gut. In the haze of Baba Jaan's betrayal, she had almost overlooked Dinbanu's compliance.

She closed her eyes in anguish.

Dinbanu took a determined step forward. "Haleh, you need to understand that sometimes the truth isn't mere facts, it's a reality that can catch up to you. We did what we must to ensure your safety."

Her safety. Yeah right. Haleh nodded, ensuring distance between them. Dinbanu could see her maintaining boundaries; even though it hurt her, she couldn't stop Haleh. That was her right after all.

"Banu Auntie, I need some time alone. I know it's freaking rude to ask as it's your place but—"

"Our place, dear one." Dinbanu amended rather sternly. Haleh gave her a waned smile. Was it? She wanted to believe but couldn't bring herself to.

"Can you please leave me alone? Just for a while?"

Her earnest request worried Dinbanu to no end. She needed someone to be by her side and make her understand the dire circumstances that compelled Agha Murtaza Lashari to hide her reality.

But Dinbanu decided not to overstep. She had to respect Haleh's choice. She lingered in there as if in a dilemma but at long last, she left and walked out.

Haleh leaned against the door and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped. Her face scrunched in pain, nothing physical about it.

Was she overreacting? But how was she supposed to react that the people she thought were her life's pillars had lied to her for years?

She was a child when her parents died but she hadn't been that for a long time. A freaking adult. She didn't know what was worse, their lies or the reasoning behind them. What made her feel smaller, more insignificant than the other?

And there it was, the monster of uncertainty and doubts once again. Cackling and asking her if she had her own family, her parents, would they lie to her face like this?

She shook her head but her tears ran profusely. She hated feeling this way. She hated it when the monster won.

And he was winning fair and square today.

𝄞

Placing his phone on the table, Agha Murtaza Lashari massaged his temples.

"She has refused to talk to Dinbanu."

He whispered to no one in particular. But it reached Mahad loud and clear, and so did its implication.

She was shutting them out. Those complicit in this lie.

Fuck.

He clenched his jaw. Worry, frustration, and anger. What a freaking combination but he couldn't help it. If she was not ready to let even Dinbanu Wadia in, then there was no hope for Dada Jaan.

Least of all for him.

"How did she get to know? Who told her? Dinbanu and I had vowed to never let it out."

Dada Jaan's words were enough to spur him. "Does that matter?"

Agha Lashari glared at his grandson. "Of course it does."

"Even then, shouldn't Haleh be your priority now?" Mahad spat. The Lashari genes came with the hot-headedness but never had he ever questioned his grandfather the way he did then. He couldn't help it. His old man's priorities were still skewed. Haleh...God! Mahad could only imagine the extent of her heartbreak. His grandfather was stuck on the same old mantra. Had he ever seen her bright eyes when she talked about him and the bond they shared? For her, he had always been a major part of her found family. And Mrs. Wadia. How many times did she call Wadia House her home with full authority? Her trust was shattered and right then, she must be questioning everything.

Her face when she pried his hand away swirled before his eyes. Fuck!

"How many times did I tell you to come clean to her? She deserved the truth, Dada Jaan. No matter your reasonings. And she deserved it from you. This could've been avoided if you weren't hell-bent upon keeping her in the dark."

Mahad's furious outburst morphed into helplessness. Agha Murtaza Lashari's disapproval was evident. "Don't meddle in the things you don't understand, Mahad."

"Yeah right." Mahad chuckled derisively, running a hand through his hair. His reaction was off for his grandfather. He eyed him suspiciously. Was there something he had missed?

"She considers you her family, Dada Jaan. If you were in her place, wouldn't you feel betrayed too? This wasn't a small lie or omission by mistake. You deliberately hid your identity from her."

"Why do you make it sound like I was having the time of my life doing that?" Agha Murtaza Lashari rebuked him and then leaned forward in his seat so his point was across.

"I've told you before, Haleh's safety is paramount. You don't understand the Sherzais, Mahad and I hope you never have to. Right now, my biggest worry is how she got to know the truth. I didn't tell her. Neither did Dinbanu. Those around me who are privy to it also didn't, I believe. Then who? And to what extent? I can't compromise here. Not when it comes to Haleh. I have never. If it makes me a bad person in your eyes, then be it but that kid is precious to me and that's why her life will be always my priority."

Mahad couldn't fight this logic, even if he tried. His grandfather was right at his place. He hadn't kept Haleh in the dark for any personal gain. This was the reason all along.

But she didn't know that. And half-truths were often more dangerous than outright lies. How had she gotten her hands on this information and how much did she know?

And most importantly, how was she? Did she at least share it with her friends? He also hoped she knew she wasn't overreacting. It was her right to act the way she fucking deemed right after the revelation of this magnitude.

But all this would only get cleared if she just let someone in.

Him, preferably. No offense to his grandfather but the chances of her baring her heart to the old guy were next to none.

And if he was being honest, they weren't bright for him as well but he had to hope. That's what he could do.

Along with trying to get her to talk to him. So far she had ignored his calls. All of those. Touche.

But it wouldn't deter him.

Oh, Never.

𝄞

Eyes focussed, body language alert, and following every traffic rule there is to the t—this was, by far, the most crucial ride of Faran Jahangir's life. He had always been a responsible driver, but today he was going the extra mile.

He had refused to trust anyone from their entourage of staff for this task. Aahil was going home, and Faran would be the one to take him there. As was expected.

For a fleeting moment, he glanced behind. Eyes downcast and his fingers playing with the lint on his shirt, Aahil's drooped shoulders didn't vouch for his excitement but Faran wasn't dissuaded by it.

"It's a beautiful day. Perfect for the evening tea on the lawn. What do you say?"

Silence.

Adan shifted in her seat close to Aahil and shared a worried glance with Faran. "I think it's a good idea. Teatime gossip is something else. Dado agrees and so should you."

No response.

"Or we can run old football matches. Germany Vs. Brazil. AC Milan Vs. Liverpool or RM Vs. Atletico. Your pick."

Static.

Faran sighed. "It's your big day, Aahil. You're finally going home. This calls for celebration. The crucial phase of your recovery is behind you. At least crack a smile, yaar."

Faran's coaxing must've done something. He looked up. The barely there curl of his lips didn't amount to much but at least he tried.

Aahil was going home. The words were exhilarating for the Jahangirs. The impact was more so. Since the moment, Dr Noordin had greenlit his departure, the whole family was optimistic. Yes, it was pushed forward to stabilize Aahil's mental health but it was a positive move, and only good would come out of it. That was their belief.

But it didn't do much to Aahil. The relief of finally leaving the sterile environment of the hospital was there but that was it. He hadn't shown any excitement or joy. Just the shell of the person he once was.

Not when he was brought out of his hospital room, or the premises. The only time a reaction came out of him was when he swallowed his unease to see the vehicle before him.

Faseeh and Faran were quick to pick up on it and insisted on using one from Jahan's official collection, with a partition wall for Aahil's ease but he refused.

He couldn't run from the pile of his traumas all his life. Where had it gotten him? It was a shame that instead of sorting the mess, he had added to it.

The ping of Adan's phone put an end to Aahil's troubled thoughts. She smiled looking at the screen. "Nawar. That's her fifth text in fifteen minutes. You'd think we are bringing home a celebrity or something."

She canted her eyes at Aahil playfully, in her heart, waiting for his scathing retort, praying for it. It never came.

"Are the kids with her?" He asked instead.

Adan shook her head, not defeated by the change in his mannerism. Not yet. "They're with Auntie Farhat and Fareeha."

Misam's mother and sister adored them. They were more than happy to babysit in Misam and Adan's absence.

"Do you want to meet them? They for sure miss you."

Faran asked. Aahil gave it a thought. The uncertainty lurking there was heartbreaking.

"Will they be okay to see me? I don't want to worry them."

Adan's scowl was back. "What are you on? You look just Aahil. The same old. Yeah, with less hair than ever and a wheelchair. The kids will be fine. It's your disappearing act that's worrying them if anything."

He leaned against the seat, holding Adan's gaze. She was ready to attack if his self-doubt persisted. Luckily, he had no such inclination. "Bet I still rock it."

A tear and a laugh. Adan had never felt better. "You wish."

Aahil smiled lightly and looked out through the slit in the sunshade.

The familiar road welcomed him. He couldn't take his eyes off it. His smile dimmed. His heart lurched.

There, in the middle of it, two people had torn each other a new one. Eons had passed since then. It was irony or fate's cruel joke that the same road led to the Crescent Bay oceanfront high-rise building, where they had built a home together.

It led to nowhere now. The home was lost. Bereft of the warmth. Cold echoes, frigid reverberations suspended in the air, ready to pierce through him, to draw blood, and silent cries.

The car drove past that bent on the road but a part of Aahil was still there. How many parts of him he was going to leave, scattered in the places they once walked together? Now that he would be walking through them alone. When would that be.

The gates of Jahangir Residence opened wide, welcoming him home. Across the driveway, he could see his family gathered in the foyer. The security was on high alert, all thanks to the media's liking for him. Getting out of the car was easy, almost too convenient.

"Welcome back home."

Faran patted his shoulder. Faseeh and Sabah were by his side in no time. Mrs. Irshad couldn't stop her tears. Nawar stood next to Faran, smiling through hers. Adan hugged Misam sideways, trying her best to appear strong. Jamil greeted him, unable to hide his shock. It was one thing hearing about someone's bad health condition but seeing it with your eyes was another experience. Jamil was going through that.

The rest of the household staff was not here, owing to privacy and security concerns. Someone told him his bedroom had been shifted downstairs. There was another exclamation of him finally being home.

Was he?

Debatable.

Would he be?

Hopefully.

𝄞

Naheed watched her lost form, playing with the spoon in the cereal bowl. She sighed, taking it from her hand. That brought Sila out of her thoughts.

"Do you want something else for breakfast?"

Naheed asked, knowing too well she was trying in vain. It wasn't about the choice of food anyway.

"The cereal is fine," Sila said, pulling the bowl toward her. Naheed sat before her, eyeing her. If her scrutinizing gaze ruffled Sila, she didn't show it.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You are not skipping it. Not on my watch."

Sila nodded. "Jee Ammi."

Naheed sighed. Was it out of frustration or pity, Sila had no idea.

"For how long will this go, Sila?"

Sila had no answer to that. It's not like she wasn't trying to pull herself together but her efforts weren't enough and that was the best she could do. She didn't have the mental capacity to do more than that.

"Did Aahil call?"

At that, her nonchalance suddenly took a backseat. She stared at Naheed, questionably.

"Why would he call me?"

"Because he's your husband and he's supposed to check up on you."

Sila averted her gaze. Telling Ammi about the five-minute rule would be too much work. She also had an idea that Ammi wouldn't approve.

And what was she even supposed to say? That she agreed to that but now she wasn't so sure. That she had dropped him a message that she needed time?

She wouldn't be able to make anyone understand that. She had a hard time making sense of her emotions.

"I also don't check up on him."

Naheed dropped her head in her palms. Sila rested her hands in her lap and looked anywhere but her.

'Tell me one thing? Do you even want to get back together?"

Ouch.

Ammi went straight for the heart, didn't she? Sila gave her a wounded look but Naheed was done coddling. The stern mother she had only unleashed on Muaz a handful of times resurfaced.

"How would this work? You guys are not talking. You're hurting here but you refuse to do anything about it. His answer to anything is just silence. Whether it's about checking up on you or coming here to see you. People who want to save a relationship don't go about it this way, Sila."

"Wait a second." Sila leaned forward, hurt and frustrated. "Did you ask him to come here and see me?"

Naheed paused but nodded nonetheless. Sila couldn't believe it.

"Why would you do that, Ammi?!"

"Because I can't see you in pain. As a mother, I have to look out for you! You need him, Sila. No matter how much you deny it. And he should know he can't just sit idle there. You both are doing everything wrong then how can you expect things to go right?"

Sila wasted no time in getting up from there. Naheed followed suit, standing between Sila and the dining room door.

"It's been two months, bachay."

Sila gave her a pained smile. "2 months and 2 days, Ammi. You don't expect me to not keep a count of my destruction now, do you?"

She wiped her tears. "You don't understand. No one does."

"Sila—"

"No one!"

She cried and was out of there the next moment. Naheed called out to her but before she could reach out to her, Sila wore her coat, put her stole around her neck, and wearing her beanie, was out of the house.

She needed to get away. At least for some time.

"Sila!"

Naheed called from the main door. Sila turned around. "I'll be back in a few hours. Please, don't get worried. I just need some time to think. Please, Ammi."

Her pleas worked. Naheed didn't try to follow her. She stood at the door, watching her walk away, regretting broaching this topic in the first place.

𝄞

Scrolling her phone, Rameen walked out of the bank. Her Baba was supposed to pick her up on his way home. She was about to call him if he'd make it or if she should hire a cab but one look at the parking and she stopped in her tracks.

Danish's smile was strained as he tipped his head in her direction and then unlocked his car. Rameen pocketed her phone, knowing too well she couldn't do much here. Or anything at all.

"Hey."

She greeted meekly as she reached his side.

"Hey, Reen. Long time." Danish bent his head. The shift made him look into her eyes and suddenly it was too much for Rameen.

"Uncle Afzal is stuck in his office. Held up in a meeting so here I am."

Rameen wanted to roll her eyes at him. How convenient.

"I'm not lying. I was there when he called Najia Auntie and she immediately asked me to go get you."

Rameen opened her mouth, but right at that moment, her phone rang. He arched an eyebrow, and sure enough, it was her mother.

"Yes, Mama."

She picked it up and spoke without needing to move away from him. What would that do? They both knew what Najia was going to say.

As expected, Najia told her the same thing Danish had already done. Rameen pursed her lips, her disapproval evident, but he was already here to get her, so refusing now would be rude.

Once the call was over, she silently sat inside the car. Danish took the driver's seat and drove out of the parking and the bank building.

An awkward silence stretched between them, which had never happened before but Rameen dared not to break it. As they entered Parsi Colony, she was eager to get out of there and run inside. She didn't know what she'd say if—

"Reen."

She was gathering her stuff when Danish's voice reached her loud and clear. She closed her eyes momentarily and turned to face him.

"I won't be taking much of your time since you seem eager to leave my car." Even if he tried, he couldn't keep the hurt at bay.

"Why are you ignoring me? And don't deny it. It'll be an insult to the years-long friendship we've had."

Rameen didn't meet his eye, confirming his suspicion. Danish took a deep breath.

"Thanks, I guess. Now can I know why is that? Have I done something wrong?...again."

Oh, Danish.

She tried to muster the courage to tell him why she couldn't be around him. But as usual. She couldn't.

She just couldn't.

"I need to go, Danish."

She whispered.

"Reen..."

"Please?"

She pleaded. The sheen of moisture in her eyes was his undoing. The acute hurt to see her like that stumped him.

She wasted no time in getting out of the car. Danish looked at her small form.

Confusion. Regret. And hurt.

All at once.

It had never happened before.

The implication was right before him to see. Clear as the sky overhead.

And he refused to be the oblivious one.

𝄞

"Are you sure you don't want anything?"

Osama chuckled softly. "As I said before, I'm certain. But if you insist."

Alina sat straight on the couch, looking at him curiously through the video call.

"You. Case closed."

Alina shook her head. "Yeah, Mr. Big romantic. You will get that but anything else? I've bought you a gift as it is but I still want to buy something specifically of your choice."

Osama raked his brain to come up with something but the fact that she was coming back was more than enough. Gosh, he had missed her. Even though they were connected over the phone and talked and video-called almost daily. He still couldn't help himself.

Long distance was hard. Thank God it was about to be over.

"Look at you. Sir, you're pathetically in love."

Osama nodded. "I know. But one look at my girlfriend and you'd know why I'm smitten."

Alina laughed that laugh of her. The nose scrunch, half-moon eyes, and flustered cheeks. If she were right next to him, she'd snuggle into him after telling him to stop being cheesy.

"That's enough cheese for today. Now, I gotta sleep or I'll be late to board the flight tomorrow morning and that'll be the worst thing to happen. I'm still miffed they booked it at the crack of dawn."

"I'm not complaining," Osama interjected. Alina glared at him. "Of course, you aren't. Goodbye. See you tomorrow."

"Can't wait. Good night, Alina."

She was about to hang up when she looked into the camera at him.

"I love you."

"Now who's being cheesy?" She raised her eye at his cheek. He laughed lightly. " I love you too, Alina. Get back soon."

"I'll be there before you know it."

Not really. Only he knew how he was going to spend these few hours. But he wouldn't tell her. As she said, enough cheese for the day.

He watched as she mouthed a bye and hung up.

Osama leaned into the couch. He couldn't wait for tomorrow. The first test of their relationship was over and they had passed with flying colors.

Good going.

𝄞