"Bhaijaan, Humne toh bas Aunn to toka tha ki woh bhabhi jaan ko ammi bulaya karein. Humara aisa koi maqsad nahi tha unhe upset karne ka." Kainat explained to Zaigham in a low but confident tone, defending her reason for bringing up the stepmother issue with Aunn.

(I only told Aunn to call bhabhi 'Ammi,' that's all. I had no intention of upsetting him,)

"Hum Aunn ka bura nahi chahte. Yeh humari hi family ki izzat ki baat thi jab bahar walo ke samne bhi Aunn bhabhi jaan ko Zee bulate hain." Though her words were directed at Zaigham, Kainat's wary gaze kept darting to Azeen, who stood beside him. No one had ever questioned her intentions before.

(I never wanted to hurt Aunn. It was about maintaining our family's respect, especially when he still calls bhabhi 'Zee' even in front of outsiders.)

After Zeeniya left them, Zaigham had been too lost to care about anything, not even Aunn. It was Kainat who took care of Aunn during those difficult times, and now, Zaigham was doubting her intentions? It was nothing short of an insult.

"Kainat, Aunn abhi chota hai, ussey kaise handle karna hai yeh Azeen ya mujhpe chorh dijiye. From now on, no one will speak to him about Zeeniya or Azeen in this house," Zaigham declared his decision firmly, with no room for discussion.

(Kainat, Aunn is still young. Let Azeen and me handle how he should be raised.)

"Ji, Bhaijaan, behtar." Kainat nodded, mumbling her response.

(Yes, Bhaijaan, understood.)

Even though she was two years younger than him, Zaigham had never spoken to her so sternly before. He was usually a man of few words, but his words were always kind and considerate.

Aunn was just a child, and such matters never stayed in his mind for long. Within two days, he had forgotten all about Kainat’s remarks, and the thought of Azeen being a stepmother had vanished too. Azeen was once again his closest friend.

But Zaigham wasn’t a child, and Azeen’s words had left an imprint on his heart.

The real injustice was his. He had brought a woman into his home with the expectation that she would be a mother to his child, yet he had done nothing to make her feel at home, nothing to bring her happiness.

The seasons were changing—winter was fading, and summer was slowly setting in.

The cold winds that once held the air still had begun to soften, hinting at the approach of warmer days. It was as though the chill that had settled between Zaigham and Azeen was beginning to melt, leaving room for warmth and renewal.

For the first time in a long while, Azeen felt as though she had found her old friend again. Zaigham would come home on time, spend his evenings with Aunn and Azeen, and even laugh occasionally.

Azeen should have been happy, but she couldn’t shake off the unease building within her. As long as Zaigham’s attention was on Aunn, it was fine—but why was he paying attention to her? She knew Zaigham too well; she could sense that he was doing all this because of what she had said. But Azeen didn’t want his sympathy.

•••

"How about we go for a walk after dinner?" Zaigham suggested suddenly, catching Azeen off guard as she turned to look at him in surprise.

“Kya maine koi anokhi baat kehdi? You usually walk in the lawn. I’m only suggesting we step out for a change.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of Zaigham’s lips at her bewilderment.

(It’s not that unusual of a request, is it?)

“No, I’ll just walk here. I need to keep an eye on Aunn too,” Azeen avoided his gaze, looking away.

“Let's take him with us.” Zaigham offered a solution.

“He needs to sleep; he has school in the morning,” Azeen countered, almost determined to reject his every plan.

“We won’t be out all night. We’ll be back by his bedtime,” Zaigham replied calmly, as if prepared for every excuse.

This time, Azeen fell silent. Zaigham was Aunn’s father; if he wanted to take him out, what could she really say?

For a while, Aunn held Zaigham’s hand as they walked, but then he reached for Azeen’s hand too, surprising both of them. Their eyes met for a brief moment, a flash of shared surprise before Azeen quickly averted her gaze and focused on the road ahead.

Though it was late at night, there was still a gentle chill in the air. Azeen wrapped Aunn in a jacket and draped a black shawl around herself. The cool breeze played with her earrings, sending gentle shivers to her ears, while her hair, tossed by the wind, danced gracefully across her face.

As she pushed her hair back behind her ear, she felt the warmth of someone’s gaze on her. Startled, she looked at Zaigham, but his attention was entirely on Aunn.

Since they had stepped out, Zaigham and Aunn had been chatting while Azeen quietly walked alongside them, listening to their father-son banter.

Soon enough, Aunn grew tired, and Zaigham scooped him up in his arms, where the little boy quickly fell asleep.

“Yeh lijiye, aur apko fikar thi inke sone ki.” Zaigham teased gently, noticing Azeen’s surprise at how quickly Aunn had dozed off. Usually, she had to read him two or three stories just to get him to sleep.

(See, and you were worried about his sleep,)

“Hume wapas chalna chahiye.” Azeen whispered softly.

(We should head back now,)

Zaigham nodded, and they began walking back toward the haveli. Their steps fell in sync, the stillness of the night wrapping around them. Aunn, asleep in Zaigham’s arms, had always been the bridge between their conversations. But now, with him asleep, there was a serene silence between them—yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was peace in it.

Zaigham had only used one arm to hold Aunn, leaving his other hand at his side. As they walked, Azeen’s hand brushed close to his, an almost imperceptible distance between them. She didn’t notice it, but Zaigham did.

The bright full moon bathed them in its light when, unexpectedly, Zaigham reached out and took her hand in his.

Azeen froze, her eyes darting to him in shock. But Zaigham simply smiled. In that brief exchange, it felt like Azeen silently voiced her complaints, and in return, Zaigham’s eyes softly promised his understanding and defence.

•••

Zaigham laid Aunn down on the bed while Azeen immediately started covering him with the comforter. A lock of Aunn’s hair had fallen on his forehead, and Azeen gently brushed it away with care and love. Zaigham, standing at the foot of the bed, noticed the worry flash across her face as she placed the back of her hand against Aunn’s forehead.

“He’s got a fever,” Azeen said anxiously as she stood up and looked at Zaigham.

“What?” Zaigham’s concern grew; he hadn’t noticed anything unusual before. He leaned down to check Aunn’s temperature.

“It’s slightly warm, but it’s normal for kids. The weather is changing,” Zaigham tried to reassure her, but Azeen didn’t seem to find the same relief as he did.

“We should take him to a doctor,” Azeen insisted, worry evident in her voice.

“He’ll be fine, nothing to worry about,” Zaigham replied calmly, though Azeen couldn’t understand how he could be so composed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll sleep with Aunn tonight,” Zaigham offered to ease her concern.

“No, I’ll stay. Aunn wakes up several times during the night; it’ll disturb your sleep,” Azeen declined.

Since the night Zaigham and Azeen had accidentally ended up sleeping together, Azeen had made sure to sleep with Aunn. She didn’t want a repeat of that incident. Before the marriage, it had been made clear to her that Zaigham would never give her the status of a wife, and Azeen had entered into the marriage with that understanding. So now, she didn’t want any more emotional entanglements or obligations between them—especially not out of sympathy or duty. Love was never part of the equation, she knows.

Zaigham watched her in silence for a moment. She was telling him about Aunn’s habits? The same Aunn whose every move woke Zaigham up since the day he was born?

Zaigham shook his head and left the room. He had told Azeen once that she should be Aunn’s mother, not just a friend, but the concern and love on her face were more like that of a mother than a friend.

•••

In the middle of the night, Azeen suddenly woke up, feeling a strange unease in the darkness. She placed her hand on Aunn, who was lying next to her, and found that his body was burning up.

“Aunn!” Azeen immediately sat up and pulled the comforter off him.

“Aunn!” she called out, but Aunn didn’t wake up. Without wasting a moment, Azeen ran out of the room without even grabbing her dupatta and slippers, heading straight to Zaigham’s room.

She burst into his room without knocking. Zaigham, being a light sleeper, woke up at the noise.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed at seeing her like this.

“Aunn’s not waking up, and he has a very high fever,” Azeen’s voice was trembling with fear, the thought of a small child with such a high fever making her heart sink.

Zaigham was just as worried as her. Barefoot, he rushed to Aunn’s room with Azeen following close behind.

Aunn’s body was indeed burning with fever.

“Mere kamre se car ki chabi aur wallet le aiye." Zaigham instructed Azeen while lifting Aunn into his arms. She nodded and ran to his room, grabbing a blue shawl on her way out and waking Rifat bi to inform her that they were taking Aunn to the hospital and to lock the door.

(Get the car keys and my wallet from my room,)

They rushed Aunn to the emergency room, but despite their worry, they had no choice but to wait outside.

After a while, the doctor came out and informed them that it was viral and that Aunn needed to be kept under observation overnight.

•••

“Azeen, Aunn ab theek hai, aap ghar jaiye, raat se aap yahi hain." Zaigham offered her a bottle of water, which she took but didn’t drink. Sitting beside her, he gently suggested she take some rest at home, but Azeen shook her head.

(Azeen, Aunn is fine now. You should go home. You’ve been here all night,)

“I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine, but you should go home and rest for a bit,” Zaigham said, taking her hand and speaking softly.

“I’ll stay here,” Azeen was firm in her decision. She couldn’t bring herself to leave Aunn alone.

"Tum raat se yaha ho, na kuch khaya, nahi soyi ho. Zee, issey toh tumhari tabiyat kharab ho jayegi. And thinking about both your and Aunn’s discomfort pains me. Please, go home and rest,” Zaigham’s tone was gentle, full of concern, making Azeen look at him in surprise.

(You haven't eaten anything, neither sleep. Zee, if you stay like this, you’ll end up sick too.)

His words held more than just concern—they reminded her of their old friendship while also hinting at new feelings. But Azeen felt unable to respond to anything he said.

Tears shimmered in her beautiful eyes, and she quickly looked away from Zaigham.

He gently wiped her tears and placed a comforting hand on her head. “Thori derr ke liye ghar chali jao, phir ajana."

(Go home for a little while, then come back.)

This time, Azeen couldn’t refuse him. Reluctantly, she agreed and headed home with the driver.

•••

By the evening, Aunn was discharged. Though his fever had subsided, he had become noticeably weak. Such a high fever was too much for his little body to endure.

That night, Zaigham insisted that Azeen and Aunn sleep in his room. He didn’t want to risk another situation like the one they had just faced.

Aunn wasn’t usually a picky eater, but after recovering from the fever, he had started to show some reluctance. But most concerning of all, he had started asking about his mother again.

"Zee, mummy mar gayi hain kya?" Azeen was feeding Aunn at the time when he suddenly asked the question. Azeen froze for a moment at his words.

(Zee, is my mummy dead?)

"Yeh sab kaha suna apne?" Azeen put the spoon back into the bowl and asked him gently.

(Where did you hear that?)

"Hospital mein woh uncle ro rahe the, unki mummy marr gayi thi. Meri mummy bhi marr gayi hain?" It was such a heavy question, but this innocent child asked it so casually, unaware of the true meaning of death.

(At the hospital, there was an uncle crying because his mummy had died. Has my mummy died too?)

"Nahi, Aunn, aisi baat nahi hai." Azeen was genuinely taken aback by his words. How could she possibly explain something so difficult to such a small child?

(No, Aunn, it’s not like that.)

"Aunn—" She was about to explain when Zaigham entered the room.

He sat down beside Azeen on the sofa, took the bowl from her, and started feeding Aunn himself. Seeing his father, Aunn stopped resisting and quietly accepted the soup.

"Apko aaj main samjha raha hoon, dubara koi sawal mat karna." Zaigham began. "Apki mummy, humari zindagi se bohot durr ja chuki hain. Woh dubara nahi ayengi."

(I’m going to explain this to you today, so don’t ask this question again,)

(Your mummy has gone far away from our lives. She’s not coming back.)

"Kaha gayi?" Aunn’s eyes filled with tears, and seeing this, Azeen’s heart ached. She wished no child would ever be separated from their mother.

(Where did she go?)

"Woh marr gayi hain."

(She has passed away)

Aunn had asked the question so innocently, and Zaigham answered just as straightforwardly.

Azeen’s heart sank at hearing Zaigham’s blunt response. His face held the same sternness as before, and he was clearly trying to control his own emotions.

•••

I am working on this story after 4 years, so it's safe to say... I have forgotten the plot 😶. I do remember the vibe, though, so I'll write based on that vibe.

Khair, how's the update?

And I know some of you are disappointed with the ending of Aasmano Pe Likha, so... guys, it’s a short story, I couldn’t show everything in depth, although I do try to give a justification for everything. As for Haya’s family, the worst thing for them was that the property they ruined their niece’s life for didn’t even go to them. The business had already gone into loss, and even the house was no longer theirs. What could be a bigger punishment than that?

-Ufaq