Amal grumbled under breath as she exited her car abruptly at the airport parking.

She disliked impromptu arrivals. If it were from her family, she probably disliked them more.

She was enjoying her evening tea after conducting the exam when she got the call.

The freaking call.

Zahra's plane had just landed in Pakistan.

Rushing through the packed airport, Amal felt as disoriented as she did when Zahra's call came through. What a bumpy start. A heads-up would've been much appreciated. If Zahra had come all the way here, she could've also reached her hotel on her own. Amal was insignificant to inform about her plans but when it came to a ride, Amal was summoned.

Suddenly, Amal's youngest sibling woes were about to resurface but she swallowed her frustration. She had graver matters at hand.

Zahra was in Pakistan.

Before time. The 20th was two days away.

Another ploy to make it clear that Amal had no power over anything. They could make any changes as they pleased.

But Amal wouldn't be defeated by this tiny setback. Oh, please. Never.

She entered the airport lounge and looked around. After searching for a few seconds, her eyes zeroed in on Zahra. She sat there, scrolling her phone busily.

Amal braced her shoulders, eased her scowl, and took slow but determined steps to reach her.

She was within hearing distance when Zahra looked up from her phone screen at her.

She got up as Amal reached her side.

"Zahra."

Amal took her name in the form of a greeting. It wasn't curt but it was devoid of the sisterly warmth that being in the vicinity of each other after years warranted.

Zahra nodded in her way. "Amal. Sorry for such a short notice."

You're not sorry. Amal wanted to point it out but let go. Zahra raised an eyebrow at her as if challenging her to say it to her face.

Starting...whatever this was with a public argument wasn't Amal's preferred route.

"It's fine."

"Too much hassle?" Asked Zahra. Amal shrugged. "Not really. I was about to leave campus. I hope I wasn't late."

"Even if you were, I wouldn't have minded much. The airport is pretty far away from your campus."

Zahra raised an eyebrow in her way. You're not the only one who's well-acquainted with this city. She didn't have to spell it out.

What a remarkable start. No warm greetings, no sisterly proclamations, and no embraces. Her parents would highly disapprove of such a formal exchange but they were, more or less, responsible for this tug-of-war between her and Zahra.

With a sigh, Amal gestured to Zahra to follow. They were close to Amal's car when her phone rang in her hand.

Kashan.

Amal suppressed her smile. Trust her brother to be the ice-breaker as always. Sly bastard. He knew his services would be needed here and there he was.

"All good or do we need to call the police?"

He asked as soon as Amal picked up. She chuckled, looking over at Zahra. "So far, we are behaving."

"That's some consolation. Have you guys left the airport?"

"We are about to," Amal informed him.

"So far so good, or that's what I'm telling myself."

Amal laughed lightly. Zahra gave her a sideway glance but refrained from saying anything.

"Listen," Kashan's voice turned conspiratorial. Amal was fully attentive as she held the steering. Zahra had wordlessly secured her luggage. Amal tried to help but Zahra didn't let her.

"I don't want you to be on your guard all the time. It's just Zahra, for crying out loud. Remember when she broke her leg while doing the split when everyone's neighbors know that she has two left feet? Or when she fought both of us for the last piece of cake? Yeah. So take it easy and if things go south, I'm always here."

Amal's heart melted a bit. Kashan, her big softie of a brother. She was about to reply when Zahra picked up the phone from the dashboard. Amal realized, with a mixture of shock and amusement, that out of habit, she had put the phone on speaker.

"Amal?"

Kashan inquired, worried by Amal's prolonged silence. Zahra brought the phone closer. "Hello, Kashan."

"Oh...kay?"

Kashan struggled. Zahra scowled at the screen. "You were saying something?"

"My goodbyes."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Bye Amal. Bye Zahra. Will talk to you later. Have a blast you two."

Zahra smirked. "That's what I thought."

It didn't take Kashan a second more to cut the call. Amal looked at Zahra. Zahra was already doing the same.

The next thing they both knew, they burst into laughter.

Pure, unadulterated, unrestrained.

When was the last time they were this candid with each other? Years ago probably. And that time too, chances were Kashan was the reason behind it.

Zahra was the first one to get a hold of herself. Amal did too.

And the harsh reality sank in.

Amal cleared her throat. "We should get going."

Zahra concurred. "We should. It's not like Gulshan is two blocks away."

Amal's eyes hardened immediately. "You can always book a room in a hotel."

Zahra snorted. "And why would I do that?"

Amal turned toward her but Zahra shook her head. "Drive, Amal. Gulshan--e-Iqbal, Block 6."

Amal had no choice but to comply. She technically didn't have the right to stop Zahra. Ghar was as much her ancestral home as it was Amal's.

Amal started the car. The easygoing energy surrounding them just a while back had dissipated into thin air. The way ahead was clear.

They might be on their way to the same destination but their paths were very much opposite.

𝄞

Homecoming doesn't present itself fully when you're unable to partake in it, owing to your functional capabilities or lack thereof. The treatment as if you're fragile material and would break with careless handling isn't a great feeling.

But wallowing in the heartbreak that's your own doing trumps it all. Not recommended. Don't even try.

Aahil stared at his reflection in the floor-length mirror. One upgrade: the hospital room. Even with all its amenities didn't afford the 4K view of his sorry state. But you wouldn't expect Jahangir Residence to fall short in this regard.

Before the accident, before everything fell and broke, he wasn't hung up on his appearance. That disregard came with a well-acknowledged fact that...well he was good-looking. He was never humble about it. His wife would conform to this statement.

But seeing himself this way...it did break something in his heart. It reminded him of easier times that were no longer there. Easy embraces that he also lost and easy conversations.

Everything.

He moved away from the mirror, touching his short-cropped hair, haphazard as his head injury, even though healed, had left its mark. The stubble was no longer in shape, bordering on a beard and he wasn't a beard guy.

If he hadn't been looking like a caveman yet, that was on his brother who insisted on trimming his look for him, against his grumbling.

He understood why it was important but he just ...didn't want to.

Reasons? Many. Pain. Just one.

He glanced at his phone. He wasn't allowed to take any calls or text messages from anonymous numbers, his public Instagram was under the scrutiny of his father's team. Not that he was interested in any of that. His go-to app was, unsurprisingly, WhatsApp along with his phone and text message logs.

And he was interested in just one contact.

He traced the last text he had received from it.

(My) Wife: I need some time

He didn't have to ask what she needed the time for. She had agreed to give him five minutes out of her day but she was not ready for it. Not yet.

She was uncertain to give him even that. If it didn't speak of the extent of his mess-up, what else would?

The road back to her wasn't a straight path. Not when the major bump on the way was his physical health. It rendered him practically incapable of doing much. He hated it but couldn't do anything to turn things over.

The knock at his door proved to be the diversion he needed from these unsettling thoughts. He saw Nawar and immediately, his heart was in his throat.

"Can we?" She asked tentatively. He nodded, trying to appear ready but he was not. He wouldn't be.

Nawar gave him a warm smile and opened the door wide. The next thing he knew, his favorite commotion in the whole damn world was right there inside his room.

Arsh, Zain, and Hanah's excited exclamations reached him loud and clear and so did their horrified gasps when they looked at him.

Aahil closed his eyes regretfully. "Guys—"

But that was the wrong thing to do.

"What the hell!" Zain shouted. Nawar's attempts to shush him were proved futile. Arsh reached Aahil's side, too shocked to say much. Hanah had started crying.

Nawar was helpless, her face said so. She had prepared them for this, but maybe, her heads-up that their uncle was unwell hadn't fully registered with them.

Kids and their belief that their favorite people were invincible.

"What happened, Chachu?" Arsh mustered the courage to ask this. His misty eyes pierced Aahil's heart. He held Arsh by the shoulder. "Whatever it was, it has passed."

He looked at Zain and Hanah. "Shit happens. Things go wrong but at least we are finally together. Come here you, you guys. Now will be the good time to tell me you missed me as I've missed you."

He didn't have to say it twice. The kids held onto him, as much as his situation could allow. Nawar smiled through her tears. Aahil muttered a sorry for his use of the S word. That only deepened Nawar's smile. She shook her head as she left the room. Her work here was done. These people would be fine. She had never doubted it. She wasn't going to now.

Aahil caressed Arsh's hair as the boy hugged him. His tears fell on Aahil's shoulder. He patted his back. "Come on, man. I'm fine."

"That doesn't look fine to me!" Zain exclaimed hotly. He was holding on by a thread. Masking his worry with anger. The sheen of tears in his eyes shone under the room's lights. Aahil chuckled, pulling him in his arms, all the while wiping his tears. Zain glared at him and then at the last, hugged him tightly.

"Does it hurt very bad?" Hanah asked as Aahil pushed her curls out of her face and kissed her head. He shook his head keeping all of them close.

"It doesn't. Not anymore."

"You were on a vacation. Did you fall down the mountain?"

Zain probed. Aahil wanted to call him out on his morbid imagination but his condition didn't support his disapproval.

"I was never on a vacation."

Arsh's face fell, and so did Zain's. Hanah looked between her brothers and then at her Mamu.

"Lies. You old people are bonkers!" Zain seethed. Arsh was disappointed. It didn't take them long to understand they were lied to. Hanah picked up on Arsh and Zain's mood and maintained some distance between her and Aahil but didn't push his arm away. Priorities.

"I don't expect my Baba and your Baba to give you an earful," Zain said with an air of sagacity. Aahil narrowed his eyes when Arsh spoke up. "Dado? No chance. Bari Dado? Was never a chance."

"Hey! My mum did scold me!" Aahil protested but it was dismissed.

"Fool someone else, mate." Zain patted his shoulder then pulled his hand back as if unsure whether his Chachu was strong enough for a friendly pat. Aahil sighed exasperately.

"My Mama suddenly loves you, Mamu." Hanah widened her eyes. "She cries whenever she looks at your photo on her phone."

Aahil couldn't be smug about this information, even if he wanted to. All he felt was love and gratitude towards his sister.

"Oh, she always did," Arsh said. "Which means the only sensible adult we can hope to knock some sense into you is Chachi."

Arsh's surety was matched by Zain and Hanah. Aahil felt someone had punched him in the gut.

"I hope she whacked your ass," Zain said, eyeing his legs.

"Is she at work?" Arsh inquired.

"She was also part of the lie you all told us. Vacation, my foot. I'm not going to talk to her either." Zain declared.

"I miss her so very much. Very very much. Can we Facetime her, Mamu?" Hanah asked and almost immediately looked for his phone, without knowing it was in Aahil's shirt pocket.

"I can get it for you if it's over there." She pointed toward the bed, breaking and healing Aahil's heart simultaneously with her mindfulness.

He shook his head. "No need, Honeypie. It's with me but we are not going to Factime her."

Hanah's face fell. "What about just a call?" She asked hopefully. Arsh and Zain mirrored her expressions.

Aahil knew this would be difficult but he hadn't known it'd break him once again.

"We can't call her either."

"Why not?" Zain glared at him.

Aahil ruffled his hair. "Because I messed up and hurt her...Bad."

The disbelief that met his admission was enough to undo him. The fact that he could hurt Sila was such a novel concept for the children.

"How bad?" Arsh asked, his trepidation evident.

Aahil couldn't meet his eye. "The worst thing I ever did."

"Why would you!" Hanah protested.

"How could you!" Zain seethed.

Aahil looked down at his hands. Empty.

"Did she cry?" Hanah sniffed. Aahil nodded, without looking up.

"Is the fight the reason she's not around?" Arsh asked the hard question.

Another nod.

"Does...she even know you are in a wheelchair?" Zain gently pushed his chin up so he'd look at him. Aahil shook his head. He didn't meet his eye or else his teary eyes would make things worse.

"Is it fine if we try to talk to her? I mean yes, you have hurt her but you're not having a field day here."

Arsh's suggestion spurred Zain to action. "He's right. She's not crossed with us, mind you. She even talked to us. So we can present your case to her."

"We can treat her with burgers and fries and ice cream. My mama does the same when I'm angry with her." Hanah chimed in.

"No." Aahil was quick to put an end to their plan.

"Listen to me you all." His voice was soft but his countenance meant business. He desperately wanted his message to be well-received.

"I appreciate the help. I really do. You guys are my ride-or-die, remember? But I was the one to hurt her. So it's only fitting if I'm the one to earn my forgiveness. The only thing I want from you all is, don't mention me when you talk to her or meet her. Just don't take my name. That's the best favor you can ever do me."

"But what about your condition right now? You can't even walk!" Zain protested.

"Well, it's the rule, isn't it? You straighten your act and only then you'll get the treat."

"But you always get all the treats, Chachu!"

Aahil chuckled sadly. "One more reason for me to straighten my act."

"Guys" Arsh spoke after a long pause. He looked at Hanah and Zain. "Chachu is right. If he hurt me and someone else tried to do the weightlifting for him, I would feel cheated. And I won't forgive him either. So, yes, I do get him."

"I don't." Zain challenged. Hanah's eyes darted between her brothers, as she rested her head on Aahil's chest.

"Zain, it's not that hard now, is it? It's the same when I try to fight your case before Mama and she asks me to let you ponder where have you gone wrong."

"But you always do it for me!"

Zain smirked. "Because you are inconsolable when you cry. It's rather pathetic."

"That's a big word," Aahil commented. Zain's eyes shone with mischief. "Oh, he's got lots of those on him these days, Chachu. Do you knowwwwww?"

He reached Aahil's side. "Arsh Bhaaaai has got a MAD crush on this girl in his class and since she uses big complicated words like nobody's business, he's expanding his vocabulary too."

"Shut up!" Arsh's face was beetroot red. Aahil regarded his nephews when Hanah tapped his shoulder.

"Boys." She mouthed with an eye roll. Aahil was dumbfounded.

"You all are growing up fast."

"Can't say the same about you, Chachu." Zain said cheekily. Aahil narrowed his eyes. "Arsh, do one thing. The next time he's begging you to play his lawyer, crying inconsolably, take a picture and send it to me."

"Noted, Boss." Arsh saluted. At the same time, followed by Zain's loud cry of protest.

Some normalcy had returned to his life. Aahil rested his head on Hanah's.

But a part of his heart was as bereft as before.

As his fate had it. All his doing.

𝄞

The kids wanted to stay with him for some time more but the arrival of his physiotherapist was an unavoidable interruption. After that, he had to take some needed rest so his mind wouldn't be overstimulated.

These additions to his life were there for weeks now but he still had a hard time coming to terms with those. But he wordlessly did what he was supposed to. The physiotherapy session went without any event. He was a bit steadier on his legs, but not enough to stand on those so it didn't amount to much for him. He had taken his prescribed medication without fail, didn't add extra hassle to the nurse's schedule, and went to take the nap when he was supposed to.

Robotic. Almost mechanical. The only time he let himself feel some emotions was when he was with the kids.

It was Adan's idea to bring him to the lawn. It was the most peaceful area of his family's estate. She tried to engage him in a conversation but to see he was more withdrawn, she only caressed his hair and left him.

The solitude was appreciated. He was grateful for that. Adan was looking out for him in her own way.

The rest of his family members were also understanding of his mental anguish. Instead of hounding him, they had left him be. The occasional checks-up-in were almost liberating, a stark contrast to the hospital where he was under scrutiny 24/7.

He was staring into the void, lots on his mind, yet nothing made sense. So lost was he in his vain contemplation that when his phone rang, he almost missed it.

Almost.

It was on the third ring when he picked it up. Thank God for that otherwise he would have cursed himself well into the night.

"Sila?"

He called her name. There was silence for a while. He waited patiently.

"Did Ammi call you?"

She asked breathlessly. More than her question, her manner had him worried.

"Where are you, right now?"

"Out. I had an argument with Ammi. Did she ask you to come here and check up on me?"

Aahil paused. It was Sila's turn to wait patiently.

"Yes." He mumbled softly.

Sila leaned against the tree. Ambling around the familiar roads hadn't helped. The physical exertion only added to her mental turmoil.

"You aren't coming here, right?" She asked. A bit hopeful. A lot painful.

Aahil pursed his lips. Remorse. The anguish that cuts even through the bones.

"Not unless you want me to and I'm not a fool not to realize you don't want that."

Sila's sigh of relief cemented his notion. He didn't know whether to be relieved that he had read her correctly or mourn the fact that he wasn't welcomed near her, or wouldn't be for a long while.

It was heartbreaking. In its entirety.

His health concerns had been a major hindrance in reaching out to her. His decision not to let her know about his accident wasn't set in stone. He was a fickle man. His resolve wouldn't stand before her. It had never.

But the handful of times he had reached out to her, her reluctance to be near him or for him to be near her had been glaringly obvious.

She no longer trusted her heart with him. As much hurting, it was the truth.

That gave him the incentive to stay firm on his decision to hide his accident from her. A person who's treading around you on her tiptoes, afraid of even a ripple, and suddenly she gets to know that she has to come back to you, due to the working of fate and your stupidity.

And she would. Because she's got a better heart than you and a better head on her shoulders.

There, no trouble in paradise.

But what an injustice dished out to her.

And he had subjected her to enough of that.

No more.

"I gave you my word, Sila. I'm not turning my back on it."

He stated firmly. Sila breathed heavily.

"Everyone expects me to think things through. Time is running and I'm unable to decide for myself. 2 months since we've been apart. Sometimes, I want to."

Aahil waited with baited breaths.

"Sometimes I want you to barge into my life. The fact that you don't, that you haven't yet, it hurts me but that hurt is not here to stay. It comes and goes. Fleeting."

She wanted to play with her ring but that was locked in the drawer back at Dak Bangla.

"Whenever my heart wants me to take the leap of faith with you. To let you in, that night is upon me. I find myself back in the living room of your apartment, standing right before you, holding onto you, hoping against hope that you won't say all that to me. That you won't break me the way you did. That my heart won't be crushed in the palm of your hand. But nothing changes. That night plays out as it did."

Aahil closed his eyes. A tear rolled down. Regret gnawed at him. Useless now.

Sila's heavy voice reached him once again. She was holding on by a threat but she refused to break.

"No one understands my plight, Aahil."

No one but you. It was strange. He had caused her the most pain but he had been the only person who accepted her decision to stay away from him without asking any questions. What happened that night was between them. No one knew it in its entirety. So expecting them to understand her conflicting state of mind was futile.

She only expected him to do that. As weird as it was.

But unsurprisingly so, he hadn't disappointed her here. So far.

"Getting over that night, your words, your accusations isn't easy. Not when..."

"I haven't done anything to make it up to you."

Sila pursed her lips. There. Her understanding husband was still there. As much as she hated to admit it. There, as if he'd never left. Stop. She chided herself.

"I haven't given you a chance to do that. I only asked for space and you gave me that."

"Which isn't enough."

Sila stayed quiet.

"I won't make big claims, Sila. I have a shit-load of stuff to sort through. It's not going to be easy but I have to. It already has cost me a lot. More than I could afford to lose."

His hold on his phone tightened.

"Take this leap of faith with me. Please? I won't ask you to come back. I won't come there to take you back. Both of these things will happen if and when you want them to. Only then. For now, I just want you to trust me when I say that I won't disappoint you. That night is the baggage I'll shoulder my whole life. I don't intend to add to it. You've tried and fought enough for this love. It's my turn now. Let me do it."

The sincerity in his words. The clarity of his stance. It reminded her of the morning after her assault. That time, his words had touched her soul but he couldn't keep them. Not because he didn't believe in them, more so because there were things, demons bigger than anything he had put his faith into.

But he was ready to fight those demons. Ready to try. Something he was never before. If he were, it all wouldn't have crashed down the way it did.

"Sila—"

"That night...Aahil...I'm not sure."

God. What had he done to her? She had loved him freely. Unrestrained. And now, she was afraid to even take a step forward with him.

"It's okay. Take as long as you want to. I'll keep trying. Something I should've always done. But better late than never."

Sila wanted to chuckle but she was afraid if she opened her mouth, her sobs would be the only sound on this serene road that led to her ancestral home.

"Take care. I love you. That's one thing nothing can change. And one day, I'll be worthy of your love. The best version of Aahil for his woman. Until then, I try. My best."

With that, he cut the call.

And for the first time in weeks.

Sila wished he hadn't.

𝄞

The walk back home was a bit dazed, mindlessly covering the distance, echoes.

I love you.

Aahil for his woman.

Worthy of your love.

She wiped her tears with the end of her sleeve but more followed suit. At last, she gave up on the traitors.

Entering the house, she reached the kitchen where Ammi and Abu were mostly, at this time of the day.

Her assumption wasn't wrong. She found Ammi giving the last touches to the Biryani while Abu took the brownies out of the oven.

On finding her there, both of them stopped what they were doing.

Sila took a step forward.

"How much time in dinner, Ammi?"

Naheed smiled, her eyes were glassy. "Just enough for you to get freshen up and change."

"Okay. I'm going to."

She said but did nothing to move. Naheed hesitated a beat but then throwing caution to the bin, reached her side, and hugged her close.

"I'm sorry for pushing you, Bachay."

"And I'm sorry for storming out like that. You all must be worried sick."

She sniffled. It was the second time she had behaved rashly and threw a tantrum. For God's sake, it was her husband's trait, not hers. He was the youngest spoilt brat in his family.

But, unbeknownst to her, she also was the youngest in this house, pampered, and quite a spoiled brat. And just like Aahil, she also had her people here who were more than willing to spoil her.

"Oh, we weren't." Naheed laughed but a glare from Ikram was enough for it to turn into a grimace.

"Well, I was. I might or might not have made Billu run to look for you."

Another glare.

"Along with your Abu."

Sila's eyes widened. She looked at Ikram who was taking the Vanilla ice cream out of the fridge.

"But then I was fine," Naheed assured her only to get another knowing look from Ikram. She grumbled.

"Acha na! I might or might not have emptied the tissue box. And panic called Muaz too."

Sila face-palmed. Ikram looked oddly satisfied.

"That's...Oh God, Ammi. I was close by. Just needed to clear my head."

"Tell her," Ikram muttered under his breath. Normally Naheed would've fought him by then but she resisted the urge, knowing too well she had overreacted.

"That's what Muaz told me."

That was something Muaz would say. But Sila had a hunch that it wasn't just Ammi who had called him. He had gotten another from his father, telling him there was nothing to worry about.

Otherwise, Sila would've definitely gotten a chiding, big brotherly call.

"Then Aahil told me that you'd be home soon and that worked like magic. And look. Here you are."

Sila's heart skipped a beat. The relief on Ammi's face, both from her returning home safe and sound and from the implication that they were at least talking.

Someone was taking his husband duties seriously. About time.

The displeasure on Abu's face was almost comical. Sila would've laughed out loud but she had stopped doing that for a while. She had never done that in Abu's presence and at Abu's expanse anyway.

Silently, she reached her room and slumped on the bed.

Her phone pinged at the same time.

The Rich Husband: I will call you tomorrow. Just five minutes.

.

.

.

.

.

Me: Okay. But just five minutes.

The Rich Husband: You have my word.

And my heart.

Aahil didn't say that.

He couldn't say that.

But he meant it no less.

𝄞