Airports are synonymous with chaos. Even in the wee hours of the morning, the waiting area was packed with passengers and their relatives alike. Everyone had someplace to get to. A microcosm of the running life in the biggest metropolis of the country.

But there was a world away from this pandemonium. The world within her. Torn. Battered. In shambles. Barely breathing, holding onto nothing, still intact. Whole but not quite. A family of three was sitting next to her. An elderly couple was right in front of her. She peered her eyes away from them. It was bizarre but these strangers were making it glaringly obvious how lonely she was. The epiphany came when she was sitting in the waiting area of Jinnah International airport, surrounded by people she didn't even know the names of. Talk about pathetic. She focused on the patterns on her shawl. Her mind was flashing the images of the last time she was here. A smile on her face. Stars in her eyes. A company she enjoyed no matter how much she pretended not to.

Him.

Yeah, as she said, pathetic. The ache in her heart made her want to scream. Not at anyone else. Not even him. But at herself. She wasn't supposed to think of the good times with him. Not after tonight. Not after that.

She checked the time on her phone and then glanced at her boarding pass. Not long. In some minutes, she'd board the flight to Islamabad and would try her best to leave the hurt behind as well. Not an easy thing to do. Impossible, if she was being honest but at least she'd be away. Away from everything she once thought was hers but the rude awakening she had had tonight would keep her grounded to have no hopes.

Hope. When did she become such a lunatic? When did she start weaving dreams? Where did her practicality go? In the air? Because of what? A man? Slow claps, Sila. She was disappointed with herself, so much so that she hadn't let anyone know about her last-minute plan. She couldn't, for the life of her, stay. Not after everything. Not after the disaster last night had come out to be.

The announcement blaring through the speakers startled her. She needed to get it together. And she needed to move. It was time to go.

That was when she glanced at her hands. Her fingers were twiddling with her ring. Her ring. She immediately bunched her hands on her sides. No. No. Don't cry, Sila. It's okay. But whom was she kidding? She would do that only because well, newsflash: She was a fucking loser. Getting up, she heaved a sigh. A tear rolled down her cheek. She was leaving Karachi. For how long? Even she didn't know. She was emotionally drained. She was practically fleeing the city and she hadn't done anything wrong. It was on him. All on him.

Still, her treacherous heart had the audacity to ache for him, miss him even.

What a disastrous fucking life. Whoever glorified the miserable emotion love was, she wanted to have a talk with them and demand a refund. That was her last thought as she walked to the boarding bridge.

𝄞

Opening the door to his apartment, he came face to face with the darkness. The morning had just hit the horizon, Normally, it wouldn't have hit him for a few hours to come. He wasn't a morning person. Had never been. Would never be. Probably the only thing he had in common with her. Their shared hatred toward early risers and early mornings.

Her.

Regret hit him right in his heart. And his heart was already not happy with him. How could he? He must've lost his mind. He certainly had. Otherwise, who, in their mind pushes away the only good thing that happened to them in this life? He had regretted his words the moment they were out, hanging between them like a double-edged sword, that cut her but he bled as well.

He couldn't look her in the eyes, couldn't see the disbelief on her face, and couldn't, for the life of him say how fucking pathetic he was. Not that he had to voice it out; he was pathetic. An established truth that reinforced itself last night.

He left. She needed the space and he needed to keep his distance and allow himself to wallow in the ramification of what he had done. He drove around the city, cursing himself, and when his pity party subsided, he really evaluated what the hell was wrong with him.

There was just one answer. He had been running away from it. But for how long? He was never a good runner anyway. He embraced it. He finally did. But at what cost? After destroying everything. Pushing her away so far, maybe not literally but figuratively.

But he was ready to do everything in his wake to make it up to her. Grovel? He'd do. Stay quiet? He'd pretend he'd never liked talking. Accept whatever she dished out to him? He'd consider it a full-course meal and himself famished.

He'd do anything and everything. But first, he needed to see her. She must be asleep. He hoped she'd be. He wasn't worth losing her sleep. Crossing the hallway, he came into the lounge and switched on the lights. Everything was in its place. Still, something was amiss. He brushed it off but it crawled under his skin, the feeling that something had gone wrong.

Very wrong.

He rushed to their bedroom. Not an inch of it was different from as he had left it. But he wasn't a fool. He had his fair share of stupidity a few hours back. Right now, his mind was working overdrive. He opened the closet with a thudding heart and then he froze.

Gone.

No. No. No

He took a step back and dashed out of there. Running a frantic hand through his hair, he took out his phone. "Be there. Come on! Don't let a fool like me get to you, Sila. You are the smart one in this relationship." He mumbled frantically. But whom he was kidding? A part of him knew she had left. Who wouldn't? But another part of him—the bigger one, the one that still believed in miracles, refused to cooperate.

Ten minutes later he was in his car, speeding through Karachi's early morning rush. She had left almost three hours back. The security of the building had told him. His mind had shut down and pure instinct took the reins of his actions. He had no idea where she must've gone but he had to start somewhere. Anywhere. He just needed to find her. See her. Maybe she hadn't gone far. Maybe, she was at Wadia House. Maybe, she had gone to his parent's place. Or her uncle's.

Even with his jumbled mind, he could sense how lame this was. He was trying to console himself on the ruckus in his life made by himself only. The irony was laughing at him.

Thoughts with thousand different conclusions were running through his mind. And he was feeling himself getting drowned in the pool of worry and fear.

His eyes welled up remembering her face. She was everything he wasn't. She was kind. He wasn't. She knew how to let go. He didn't. She had trust in them. He didn't have that.

Get it fucking together. He chided himself. Right now, his priority had to be finding her. He had to ask their family and friends as well. Someone would know. Someone had to. Lost in his own heartbreak and urgency, he hadn't seen see the upcoming vehicle and when he did, it was too late.

He'd never been good with last-moment decisions. So how could it be any different this time around? The car went out of control, zigzagged, and tumbled. Everything happened in nanoseconds. His head slammed into the door. His whole world tilted on its axis. The glass shards pierced his skin.

He felt nothing. But then he felt it all at once.

Mostly his aching heart. As he lay there on the pavement, his eyes were slowly drooping. He was aware of the pool of blood around, his blood, but that wasn't his priority.

Nothing else was.

But one face. One realization. That had come to him hours back and all he had to do was to tell her.

He, Aahil Jahangir was in love with Sila Nouraiz.

And maybe he was too late to realize it.

𝄞

Author's Note

Don't hate me. :')

The playlist for the book is available on my spotify. The link to which is in my about section on my profile. Do listen to it. I mean it.