His family's jubilation over the new development in his life wasn't hidden from him. They hadn't been subtle about it. He didn't expect them to. It was a huge deal. Not just them, his friends were over the moon as well. Osama and Alina had visited him when Mahad briefed them about what was up.

His people.

Those who had seen his connection with music evolving over the years. Those who knew what it meant to him. And when the catastrophe hit him. When he shut the door of his salvation on him. When he plunged into an unending loop, there was no beginning, no end, just a suffering of maltitudes.

They had seen it all. So, it was fitting for them to be there when he took the first step towards the forgotten.

He acknowledged their care and cherished it. He wouldn't be anywhere if he didn't have this support all these years.

But at the same time, everything felt inadequate. As if the void in him was still a gaping hole.

He glanced at his phone.

No call from her. Not even a text.

Aahil gulped uneasily. Their communication had taken a massive hit due to obvious reasons. But this silence from her after their conversation the other day pierced his heart. Had he done something wrong by asking her such an invasive question? Was she not ready for such an emotionally charged conversation?

But he couldn't help himself. And not that her reply had put him out of his misery. If anything, it ruffled him to the point that his music remained the only solace. His undoing. His Achilles heels.

It had opened a new door for him and he didn't know whether to feel good or bad about it or to feel anything at all. The enormity of the predicament had brought him to his knees, to the point that he hadn't said a coherent sentence since he was back from his apartment.

Waiting for a call, being too afraid to make that call on his own, and looking around at the happiness surrounding him as if he couldn't decide if he was the focal point of it and if he should be.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't realized for how long he had stopped outside the door.

The door.

With trembling fingers, he pushed it open. The stale air of the storeroom welcomed him immediately.

He had tried to talk himself out of it but that's about something you had once loved to bits, it has the power to undo you like nothing else.

Years back, when he moved out of his parent's place, he had a hard time parting with his old room. That had been his creative den. The place where he had discovered his music and had grown into it. He deliberately left things behind. Things he could come back to. Things that would remind him of times he didn't know music would become such a vital part of his being.

That was another thing, that he had pushed them to this neglected corner of this house with his own hands. His room in this house had lost everything related to him it boasted. Not just that, but his music room at his apartment as well. He placed everything in here to never look back.

But some resolves don't last all life long no matter the surety with which they were born.

His also didn't.

He was here after all, through the haze of pain and uncertainty.

Behind outdated furniture and shelves of discarded papers, he could see the secluded corner.

His corner.

He stopped his wheelchair near it. His eyes roamed around.

The instruments, his firsts. The computer system and DAW. A beginner's treasure. His desk. The chair whose comfort he still remembered.

The folder was on the shelf. His certificates. Below it were his trophies. Lots of those. The handwritten compositions. Old journal pages. The lyrics he'd have a good laugh at now but the situation had lost its hilarity.

The studio monitors. They hadn't been a perfect purchase but he loved them nonetheless.

And the photo collages. He'd never be able to tell Sila where his love for them came from but it was probably this.

The concerts of his favorite artists he had attended over the years. The tour of Berklee before he officially enrolled there. He was like a child in a candy shop. The random jamming session with his dormmates, busking in the streets for fun, and hitting a club at 3 AM on a Friday. Back in Pakistan, every family gathering and friends hangout ended by playing for them. A budding musician. The picture from his studio at Cyrus' place.

He bunched his hands in his lap. The debris. The shattered pieces of something precious. Right before him.

And he couldn't blame anyone for it.

He raised his hand and wiped a tear from his cheek. And then he turned around and simply left from there.

Glorious arrivals. Silent goodbyes.

But was it?

𝄞

When he reached the living area, it was time for the evening tea and his whole family was gathered there. He silently joined them but if he thought the aftereffects of this milestone in his life had worn off, he had another thought coming.

As he reached there he was received with warm smiles and encouraging nods. He still had a hard time assimilating himself into the normal way of life. Meals and tea times were part of such routine. Sitting with the family while his mind was somewhere else. Hard thing to do.

Sabah immediately took charge. His diet regimen consisted of lots of healthy options and she had added those to the teatime snacks, just so he'd be able to sit with the family and wouldn't miss out on anything.

"Where have you been?"

Mrs. Irshad inquired. "I came to your room but you weren't there."

"I was out for fresh air."

The lie rolled off his tongue. He didn't have the heart to tell his people that he was rummaging through his past. It would raise their hopes more than they already were and he had time and again proved that he could crush all of those under his feet. He didn't want to live up to that label.

His grandmother was satisfied with his answer. She then turned to Faran. "And where are the kids?"

Faran swallowed the piece of cookie and gave her a hesitant smile. "They are with Nawar and Adan."

"Doing what exactly?"

Mrs. Irshad, for all her credibility as a doting grandmother, was too straightforward sometimes. Tact and her often didn't go hand in hand.

Faran grimaced. "Facetiming Sila."

Saying that he apologetically smiled in Aahil's way. The air around was suddenly laden with unease.

Aahil felt a pang in his gut. Jealousy? Maybe. A scowl was set on his face. His ignored calls since yesterday seemed to mock him. Not that he could blame anyone but himself for this.

Sabah held his hand. Her silent support worked like magic. He immediately eased. Yeah, it hurt. He felt left out but it wasn't intentional on Sila or anyone's part. It was just his luck that he was him.

He couldn't let it show how affected he was by this tiny information. Lest his family should start being careful around Sila. That would be the worst outcome. Their downfall had already snatched so much from her. She had left her beloved city. She couldn't see her friends whom she used to meet regularly. Her in-laws, even though loving, caring, and understanding, were already treading carefully around her for obvious reasons. He couldn't throw a childish tantrum and take even that away from her.

He claimed to love her after all.

The conversation between his family members without saying a word gnawed at him. He narrowed his eyes.

"What is going on here?"

Faseeh cleared his throat. "Sila didn't join Jahan. I hoped she'd but that didn't come to be."

"She went there—"

"Once." Aahil cut Faran. "I know. She hasn't since."

He leaned forward in his wheelchair and sighed with relief. A loser move but he couldn't help it. He wasn't as out of the loop when it came to his wife, then. The feeling was welcoming, no matter what.

"She doesn't feel comfortable. To her, it's like using her privilege. She won't budge easily. If you want her onboard, you need to make her see that your hotel genuinely needs her. Otherwise, she'll keep on second-guessing everything."

He tilted his head in his father's direction. Suddenly, everyone around him mimicked the same relief he had shown just now.

Aahil chuckled slightly. His family was predictable in their display of affection. They were juggling two boats. On one hand, they were trying their best to be Aahil's support system but at the same time, they didn't want to desert Sila.

Ideally, they should've visited Sila more often. They were connected to her but that didn't amount to seeing her in person once in a while.

They could've done that. Easily. But there was a person among them who couldn't, even if that was the only thing he wanted to do. His physical restrictions wouldn't let him, nor would Sila's apprehensions.

They didn't want to add to Aahil's agony. It was the unsaid rule that they wouldn't mention their phone and video calls to Sila in front of Aahil. In the same way, they wouldn't bring Aahil in front of Sila. She was also hurting, all alone there. She didn't have the score of people to flock around her as Aahil. She didn't deserve to feel left out.

That's about loving two people who have unfathomable distance between them.

"You guys are remarkably useless." Mrs. Irshad commented hotly. "I can't believe it. Three seasoned business people, and a hopeless aashiq, and you people couldn't convince her? Skill issue?"

Direct hit on Faseeh, Faran and Adan. Aahil's was self-explanatory. Sabah was happy she'd never prided herself as a sharp business mind, or else she'd also be under the fire.

"At this point, the kitty party is doing a better job at it." She added the last bit to shame them some more.

"She's not wrong." Nawar agreed as she joined them. She took her seat beside Faran who immediately got to making her a cup of tea.

"You should've seen Zain trying to bargain her into coming back."

She said, somewhat amused, somewhat sad. Aahil didn't look up. His eyes were once again fixated on his empty hands.

"That brat. Hate to break it to you, boy," Mrs. Irshad glared at Aahil. "But it's time to pass on your imbecile crown."

Aahil massaged his temple and shook his head at her. "Why don't you try it, Dado?"

"What?"

"Convincing Sila. Or are you all talks and no show?"

Shots fired. Sabah covered her face with her palm while the rest of the Jahangirs were oddly amused. A famous Dado-Aahil stare-down was on the cards. The imbecile crown was a bit crooked but not yet suited to pass on.

"I'll send you packing."

"When? The next year?"

Her smile was evil. "If we leave things on you, that might be the case."

Aahil couldn't even call it a low blow. It was fair. He had opted for this route and it was no news that his grandmother wasn't a fan.

She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Don't worry. I'll talk to her. Best believe she won't be able to say no to me."

"I wouldn't be too confident if I were you." He deadpanned.

"Well, there's a reason you aren't me." She stated without any qualms.

That was encouraging. Aahil had to admit.

𝄞

The genuine smile on Mrs. Irshad's face was contagious. She talked to Sila in hushed whispers as if they had secrets of their own. He sat to the side, unable to feel even a smidge of malice. He was being ignored, on purpose by his grandmother and unintentionally by his wife but the fact that Sila was so loved trumped everything.

"So what? People are only good for one thing and that is judging others without knowing shit."

Mrs. Irshad scolded her and looked at Aahil exasperatedly. He shrugged, telling her wordlessly that he had already conveyed Sila's grievances about this situation to them.

"Sila, don't think that your shrewd businessman of a father-in-law didn't think of the logistics of this decision. Aahil has been tagging along him and Faran for months but as the imbecile himself admits, he doesn't have to actively participate in anything. Because Faseeh knows that's not his area of expertise and he's not going to burden him with it. But you,"

She paused, fleetingly looking over at Aahil. He ought to feel insulted but this was the truth he had acknowledged before anyone else. So, no hard feelings.

"He doesn't need to be told how good you are at what you do. He has proposed this idea keeping your credentials in mind, my child. Don't second-guess yourself and more importantly, don't let others' judgment decide for you. This isn't the Sila I know."

Her gentle coaxing. Aahil was well-versed in her patterns. And he knew his wife well enough to decipher that she had either already given in or was about to.

"Tell me that you'll at least try once more. I hate to see my talented kid this way. You're more than that, Sila. You know it better than all of us."

Aahil couldn't hear what was said from the other side. The urge to take the phone from his grandmother's hand was daunting but what would he even say to her? He no longer had the right to push her and she wouldn't let him. And when she was actively ignoring his calls, he would be an ass to insert himself in this conversation.

He took a deep breath. Dado had ended the call. She looked at Aahil. The enthusiasm with which she was convincing Sila just now was nowhere to be found.

"I don't think she'll take up the opportunity."

Aahil nudged her shoulder. "Don't lose hope just yet, Dado. I think she will."

"Why are you so sure?" She asked grumpily. Aahil hugged her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder.

"It's hard for her to say no to you."

"So you baited me?"

He laughed lightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, you don't. Such an imbecile."

She pushed him away but a smile slipped her lips as well. And for some measure moments, life was normal once again.

𝄞

Naheed pulled the curtain aside and looked through the window. Sila stood there by the railing, looking at the downward slope. Her phone was in her hand, and she was absentmindedly toying with it.

"I'm worried for her, Muaz."

"We all are, Ammi." Muaz's reassuring voice from the phone speaker didn't do much to ease her tension. She sat down on the bed and brought it closer.

"You won't understand until you see her. She's no longer the Sila we used to know. I've never felt as helpless as I do now. What are we even here for?"

Muaz had nothing to reassure her. Since the day he'd come to know about Sila and Aahil's fallout, he hadn't been able to do much.

"Sometimes, I feel that we should've heeded your Abu's advice."

"Ammi, you don't feel that. Don't try to fool yourself. If it were up to Abu, this situation would have gotten 10 times worse, God forbid, in a divorce."

Naheed flinched at the truth in his words. Ikram had lots to say about Aahil and his family's handling of the situation. He didn't believe for a second that they were serious about mending Aahil and Sila's relationship. Their sparse trips to Murree and Aahil's act of no-show had spurred him on. Naheed and Muaz had kept him at bay. Ikram and Sila's cold war also worked in their favor.

But not all of Ikram's objections were unfounded. The Jahangirs were connected to Sila. Their bond with her was the same but that wasn't enough for Naheed. She wanted earnest efforts from their side. And even more from Aahil.

"I need to talk to Sabah."

"And what will you say to her?"

Naheed was enraged. "What will I say to her? I'll tell her that this is not how you fulfill your duty as an elder! Does my daughter not deserve efforts from their end? Why they are taking so long? What's stopping them?"

"Sila doesn't want them to come to Murree, Ammi. Don't forget the talk she had with Adan when they were coming to take her with them."

"That's because Sila wants that effort from someone else. And no Muaz, don't tell me she doesn't. Deep down she does want Aahil to reach out to her."

Muaz didn't agree with her and he had no qualms in telling her so. "Ammi, we never got to know the root of the problems between Sila and Aahil. She hasn't shared those with us. We just know that she wants distance from Aahil because there are things he needs to work on. By stating that Sila wants him there in Murree, and she doesn't realize it yet, you're talking over her. She knows what this relationship means to her. Better than you and I or Abu will ever. If she's sticking to her decision, all we need to do is stand by her."

He had said that time and again but he was grappling with an emotional mother here, who wanted everything in her child's life to get back to normal in the blink of an eye.

"Then why there are crickets from Aahil? Why can't I see the effort? Sila deserves better than this Muaz, especially better from Aahil. I never thought I'd say that about him but I'm so disappointed."

That was where Muaz didn't know what to tell her.

Because if he was honest, he also felt disappointed. He wasn't the one to judge people without knowing their reasons but Aahil's handling of this situation so far was so unlike him. No matter if he was respecting Sila's boundaries Muaz expected more from him.

"Your Abu is getting impatient, Muaz, and rightfully so. Before his silent storm unleashes itself, we need to do something. I don't want Aahil at the receiving end of his wrath. And you know Sila. If she thinks that your Abu is overstepping, she'll leave."

And that was unacceptable to Muaz. He immediately straightened up. "You won't let her go anywhere, Ammi. I'll talk to Aahil."

"He doesn't say much over the phone. I've tried." Naheed added, regretfully.

"Then I won't be calling him. I will go to Karachi once again and meet him." He stated firmly.

"That's good. Do it. And when you see him, do let him know that I'm not happy with the way he's dealing with things."

"Will do."

He said obediently when Naheed narrowed her eyes.

"By the way, aren't your trips to Karachi getting frequent?"

Muaz choked on his breath. "Kya matlab hai iss baat ka!?" He almost cried.

"Don't try to play dumb. Karachi is far away from Islamabad but you are ready to visit at the drop of a hat. What is going on, Muaz?"

He scratched his neck. "Nothing."

"Nice try. Just remember that if you again get stuck in a situation like the one with the Maliks', I'll refuse to even recognize you." She warned. He felt the mere air had turned acrid.

"How many times do I have to repeat? I was never involved in that mess. It's not my fault that in me, they saw a suitable suitor for their daughter."

"Ma Sadqay at the confidence. Say whatever you want but I'm not going to face such humiliation again."

"Your trust in me is the guiding light in my life, Ammi." He chewed his words. Naheed dismissed him and ended the call. Needless to say his grumbling didn't stop for a while.

Neither did his excitement on the prospect of going to Karachi. Yeah, priorities.

𝄞

Amal paced the room, glancing at the grandfather clock every once in a while. When she'd get tired, she'd sit down, intertwining her fingers agitatedly.

Azra sighed and shook her head. "Amal, you need to calm down."

"How can I?" She almost yelled. Azra closed her eyes regretfully. Around her, Ruki, Shamim and Chandni regarded Amal worriedly.

"You guys should've told me when she left."

Azra was exasperated. "We can't keep a watch on her all day, Amal. It's not possible and also, pretty rude if you ask me."

"Her whole pupose of coming here is rude, Azra!" Amal threw her hands.

Since Zahra's arrival to Karachi, Amal had been her designated driver. She took up the job begrudgingly. She might not want to be Zahra's chauffeur but it was necessary to keep an eye on her lest she should be meeting up with brokers and real estate agents.

So far, Zahra hadn't done anything offensive. The fight was yet to start and Amal was on her toes.

But today, the call from Azra that Zahra had left Ghar without telling anyone was the moment Amal was waiting for but dreaded at the same time. She rushed from the campus and reached Gulshan. Since then, she was on the edge.

"Why didn't you ask here where she was going?" She rounded at the ladies who could do nothing other than looking at her with different ranges of disbelief.

"We can't do that, Amal." Chandni said nervously. Shamim was in agreement with her. Ruki cleared her throat.

"This is basically her house. It's bad enough that you two are at loggerheads because of us."

"Oh, Please, Ruki Auntie! We've been through this." She glared at her. "Right now, I need to know where Zahra is. That's it."

As if it was the apt time for her wish to be granted, they heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle stopping outside their house. Amal watched through the window and her scowl eased considerably.

"Who's she come with?"

Ruki asked. Amal was about to answer but Zahra walked through the already ajar main door. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on Amal. Amal looked behind her at the friendly and familiar face.

"Oh my! Amal! Is that you?"

Qurat exclaimed, embracing Amal in a bear hug as was her trademark. Who could say she was Zahra's best friend? The one Zahra hadn't let her connection sever with. Regular emails and calls had kept this friendship intact. It fared better than Amal and Zahra's sisterly bond but that was a topic for another time.

"I'm so mad at you. I never knew you didn't leave Pakistan the last time you all were here. This woman," She pointed toward Zahra. "Never told me otherwise I would've kept in touch."

Figured. Amal snorted lightly, earning a glare from Zahra which she ignored.

"It's good to see you after so long, Qurat. But don't put all the blame on us." Amal said with an encouraging smile on her face. "Just admit that you had no time to spare after your marriage."

Qurat bit her lip. Busted. Amal laughed at that, but in her heart, she was glad that a difficult conversation hadn't come to be. The cold war between her and Zahra wasn't for everyone to know. And by the looks of it, Zahra hadn't disclosed it to Qurat, otherwise she wouldn't be as warm toward Amal.

At least, both of them could agree on something.

"Shit! If I knew you were here, I would've invited you to my wedding. Now I'm a mother of one."

"And you didn't bring your little one along. What a miss!" Amal laughed it off.

"I'll make sure to introduce you the next time." Qurat promised as she hugged Amal, ready to say her goodbyes.

"What's the hurry? Let's have a cup of tea."

Qurat refused politely. "I can't right now. Mustafa is with my mother-in-law and she's already called twice by now. But the tea is due. I'll see you around. Both of you."

Qurat raised an eyebrow at Zahra who just shrugged. They saw Qurat walking through the door and as soon as she did, Zahra left for her room.

"See! You were worrying over nothing."

Azra pointed out rather sternly. Amal glared at the place Zahra had just left. "I can't trust her."

"Buri baat, Amal. She's your sister."

Remind her that. Amal wanted to say but for some reason, couldn't. She was many things but oblivious of her own shortcomings wasn't one of those. She couldn't say with conviction that she had also tried to be a sister to Zahra.

"I'm tired of your negative energy." Ruki thwacked her back. Amal yelped, trying to push her away.

"Next time bring Haleh along. She knows better than anyone how to handle your snark."

Amal snorted. "Good luck with that. She's not exactly a sunshine herself these days."

"What happened?" The ladies were immediately concerned. Amal rubbed her forehead. Worry lines were evident there.

"She's not herself lately. I've repeatedly asked her if something's wrong but she doesn't say much. She doesn't even deny it so I'm positive she's under some strain. What is that, only she can tell me. Sila's state is also a constant source of worry for us. I don't know." She looked up, lost. "Everything is messed up."

The ladies hadn't expected her to crumble like that. Her constant emotional battle with Zahra, Haleh's struggle, and Sila's lost state had done her in. Ruki's arms came around her, while Azra caressed her hair, giving her the silent support. Shamim and Chandni's worried faces hovered over her.

And from the upper floor railing, Zahra heard and saw it all with hurt making its presence known.

𝄞

When he asked Faran to drop him at his apartment, he obliged almost immediately. Aahil wasn't surprised by the promptness. But he couldn't share his brother's enthusiasm.

He knew in his heart that what his family was expecting wouldn't come to be. Music hadn't broken through his barrier, nor it had reclaimed its lost throne in Aahil Jahangir's life. What happened the last time he was here didn't make sense to even him. It was his earnest reaction to Sila's deepest declaration.

As if he had no control over his own body. Muscle memory. Comfort of the known. Safe haven. The learned pattern.

Could be anything.

But not an intentional move on his part.

He sat before his piano, his finger tracing the grim on its surface. All alone. Faran was outside in the lounge. He had refused to leave him be. This was the extent of him playing along Aahil's demands.

But he was waiting. Aahil knew he was. The room was soundproof. But the gentle echoes of his melodies would travel outside to the lounge. Probably how Mahad got to know what he was up to the last time they were here.

Too bad Faran was going to be disappointed. Aahil couldn't find any semblance of courage in him to reach out to once his most cherished possession.

He turned away from it and moved to the shelf on the other corner. His eyes took their fill of the details he once wished he'd forget but could never do so.

And then they stayed on the journal.

He gulped and picked it up with trembling fingers.

Her familiar slanted longhand. The cute doodles of procrastination. He went through the pages with utmost care. How he wished he had shown the same vigilance when it mattered the most. But hadn't he always been quite a loser? Oblivious then, a disaster after it passed. It was a miracle that he had gotten his hands on this journal without throwing his guts out.

His troubled thoughts were put to a halt when he stopped at a page. It wasn't the lyrics that made him smile.

It was the gentleman in cursive with a stuck-out-tongue emoji.

He couldn't help his chuckle. He just couldn't.

She was about to start her car when the passenger door opened and he took his seat.

Maya yelped and placed her hand on her chest. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

Aahil settled his hair and gave her a lopsided grin. "I've been getting that a lot lately."

Maya rolled her eyes. Of course. Trust him to revel in the insult.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is it a rhetoric question?"

Maya shook her head. "Aahil Jahangir. I'm not dropping you at your dorm. It's way out of my route."

"Please?" His puppy eyes had always worked on the ladies. Maya was also a lady.

She was unimpressed.

Well.

"This is the last time. And don't make this face in front of me ever again. You look constipated."

Aahil was genuinely baffled. "That was uncalled for!"

"Sue me if I care." She deadpanned but then narrowed her eyes at him. "I thought you and Josy..."

Aahil shook his head. "Nah."

"She's hot."

"I never said she isn't."

"Then?"

He tapped his fingers on the dashboard but Maya's mind was working a mile a minute. Aahil finally grumbled and glared at her.

"What?"

She giggled. "You're oddly funny when you're nervous."

"Take that back!" He warned but that made her laugh some more. Aahil sighed.

"I thought your vow was just a silly gimmick but you're one persistent son of a gun."

"What's so silly about it? I just don't feel like sleeping around. Being a campus fuckboy isn't higher up my priority list."

"Sleeping around or never sleeping around?" Maya asked, amused.

Aahil grumbled. "You're the worst."

"Don't be a tool. I'm just messing with you."

He shrugged. "I don't think it's a big deal. I'm not looking for casual sex. But Josy was and it would've been a loser move on my part to lead her on when I wasn't going give to her what she was into. So, I kissed her goodbye. She was cool with it."

"What a gentleman." Maya remarked, swiveling the steering.

"You'd also be if you were at my place. When you see companionship and love being cherished that way by every couple in your life, you ought to wish for that as well. I'm not doing something extraordinary, It's just a personal preference, nothing to glorify."

"See that's what I'm talking about. And then you wonder why your music resonates with hopeless romantics. You're such a softie, Aahil Jahangir. A gentleman, thorough, and thorough. Such a shame I don't have the hots for you."

Aahil made a face. "Gross."

Maya nodded along. "That's what I thought when I first saw you."

"In my defense, food coma is the best delirium ever."

"It almost gave you a knob."

"This is what gym routine is for. You should try it sometimes."

"No need."

"No stamina either." He pointed out.

"One more word and I will kick you out of my car."

He bumped his hand against her head making her see red. He grinned at her fury. "I'd love to see you try. No focus on the road, midget. I don't have the money for the ticket."

"Me when I lie."

"Correction: I don't have the money for your ticket. If we are pulled over, you're on your own."

"I take it back. You're far from a gentleman. Jangli!"

Aahil smiled as he traced her handwriting. "You were right, Maya. I'm far from a gentleman. You wouldn't believe what a disaster I've turned out to be. And what I've made the woman I love go through. You'd be appalled. You'd hate me for it. I hate myself too. So, we are on the same page."

He placed the journal back at its place and moved back to the piano. Leaning into his chair, he closed his eyes.

Him and his regrets.

That was it.

It was probably after a few seconds, but his phone rang.

He opened his eyes with a start. Hoping against hope that it'd be the one person he desperately wanted to hear from.

(My) Wife.

He had never felt such relief. At the same time, he had never felt such unease. What a weird combination. What a disaster.

"Sila?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm rejoining Jahan Bhurban from tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know."

She said quickly. Admitting to him that ignoring him had started to take a toll on her, that she had spent fifteen minutes outside a music shop when she went to get the groceries with Ammi, doing nothing, just staring the the guitar on display and imagining him, wouldn't be ideal.

"How was your day?" He asked gently.

"Good." Sila whispered.

"Did you have your lunch?"

"Yes."

"Are you done ignoring me?"

Silence.

"Yes." A meek affirmation. Aahil chuckled.

"What made you do it? My question?"

"My response." She toyed with the pillow in her lap. "I said too much."

Too much. It had never been between them. Too much love. Too much anything.

"Where are you right now?" She changed the subject.

"At our place. In the music room."

Sila chewed her bottom lip. "You spend a lot of time there. I hope it's not taking a toll on your health."

"I'm fine."

Of course.

"Yeah, okay. I think I should go—"

"I played the piano."

He blurted out. She was going to end the call. She was the only person who didn't know about this detail when she should've been the first one to know, it had happened because of her.

Too many details. Or none at all.

Either way. He had to tell her.

"Did you?" She asked, a bit dazed, shocked and sad.

"Yeah." He admitted. Almost ashamed. For what? Everything.

"That explains..." She took a pause to clear her throat. The ball of tears physically hurt her.

"That explains everyone's high spirits. No wonder they sounded so happy."

And I'm the last person to know.

She swallowed the complaint that was on the tip of her tongue. Did she have the right? When it was her choice to leave.

But why did it hurt so much?

"That's...great. I think it's great that you are trying to reconnect to that part of your life. I just—"

"Sila!"

He called her. His was voice firm. No room for deflection.

"Hun?" She responded, uncertain.

"You were my reason."

"Don't!" Sila whispered-yelled. "Don't do this to me. I won't let you. I won't be deluded. Not again. This isn't about me. I was a fool to believe I was a part of it. That I had the right. But I know better now and—"

"It's because of you, Sila. All of it."

"Aahil!" She complained through her sob.

"Fuckups and I are an old fucking deal. We go hand in hand. What was different this time? You. You're not a lesson on the way. Nor are you the collateral damage. Fuck no. You're my reward. My earnest prayer that has finally been answered. My reason."

He slowly opened the lid of his piano.

"It's a shame that in clearing my path, you have wounded your feet but I promise you, Sila. I'll pave my way to you on my own. I don't ask you to hold my hand through it. Just be there, at the end of the tunnel. That's all."

Nothing from her. But that didn't deter him.

"Will you?"

"Yeah. Okay." She sniffled.

Good enough.

And now, the hardest part.

He swallowed.

"Can...I...play for you?"

Sila hadn't expected that. He also hadn't. But it had happened. There was no turning back from this. Not that he wanted to.

"Will you?"

His hand trembled. His lips quivered. "I want to."

"Okay."

"This was...one of my initial compositions. I don't remember it well. I've probably lost the music sheet for it and—"

"Aahil."

He stopped, breathing heavily. "Yes?"

"I'll be here. Take as much time as you need to. I've got you."

A smile. His fingers took position on their own accord.

"And I love you." He declared and closed his eyes.

And let the magic begin.

The musician came back, and so did his lover. With them, they brought the music notes. One after the other. The never-ending applause. The empty theater but was it really?

Snow on the pavement. Melody in the room. Slow dance in the rain. Whispered affirmations. Hand in hand. Him and her. Fading footsteps on the shore. Sneaking out after the show. In his music room. Her and that melody. His undoing. A kiss before he went onstage. The loudest cheer. The welcomed distraction when he was neck deep in his creative spell. Her hand on his guitar. Her mark on his heart. Leaning against the piano. Him, her the music notes. Photo collages right above his drums set. Each one featured her.

His reason.

His salvation.

His reward.

The crescendo.

And then the silence.

He breathed hard.

"Sila."

"I'm here." She whispered back. Dazed. Delirious.

"So am I."

The Aahil she loved. The Aahil she deserved. And he wasn't going anywhere.

Not this time.

𝄞