You cannot always be happy,
But you can always be brave.
And that is the beginning of everything.
-Ariana
         _______________________________________________________
A/N : I'd like to thank BitchThatsMe  for the pretty cover! Isn't it cute?
Hope you guys love this chapter.
Don't forget to vote, share and comment.

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A week passes after the awkward conversation at the hospital and I don't see him. The time away from him and having Dad back once again gives me some perspective. I decide it is time I take matters in my hands and sort them out. I cannot keep going on the way I have. It is not that I don't want to.

I had pleaded, begged, lashed out at them saying I wanted to move out. But they had not let me. Their overprotective nature hadn't let them leave me, alone in such a state. I personally also think, my psychologist, who also happened to be an acquaintance of Numair, had a say in it. Though I seldom kept my appointments with him and those I did keep I did not bother talking to him. I am not ashamed to say I must have been the least cooperative patient he had. Talking over my personal issues with a random stranger is not an appealing idea. And paying him for that! An absurdity!

After months of futility, he had the good sense to give up on me. I held a shrewd suspicion that Mama still kept in touch with him and occasionally consulted him, when to put it bluntly, I fell off the wagon. As long as they didn't force me to talk directly I did not mind. I knew they both meant well.

Friday evening I'm all set for the weekend. Which means I have, my favorite pajamas on, a little faded but soft, a new book that I have brought along from the library, my bed made up and my blanket awaits me. I head to the kitchen to brew myself some coffee before I retire for the night.
I remove the can of milk from the fridge, pour it, reach for the coffee powder from the shelf and set it to brew. I tap my foot waiting for it to be done so that I can snuggle into my blanket. But Mama has other plans.

She sits on the chair in the kitchen and faces me,  'What have you decided?' She questions directly.

Usually, mothers are the softer counterparts but in my case, my mother was the firmer, stricter parent. And when my mother scolded it was my father I used to run to, to find solace.

'About?' I hedge, nervously, almost sure where this is going.

'You know what I'm talking about.' She says firmly, knowing my antics well.

'You can elaborate.' I say still keeping up my play.

'About Maaz.'

'Oh, that.' I pour the coffee into a mug and hold it towards her, asking if she wants some. She shakes her head and goes on, determined to not let me sidetrack her.

'What your father hasn't told you the other day is that Maaz has not merely expressed an interest in you, he has asked us for your hand in marriage.'

This was information to me. My mouth drops open and I gape at her.

'He... did what?'

The revelation enrages me yet endears me. How dare he get my parents involved? Yet how sweet that he thought it important to go through with them first. But, wait, what?! Where did that come from!

My last conversation with Mama surfaces up, what could I do for my dad's happiness, is what she had questioned me. I can still see the question in her eyes.

'We have been through this already. He is a genuine, caring person who knows you the most. He respects you and wants to make you happy. He is a blessing in disguise, sent for you.'

'For me?' The idea sounds weird, that someone has been sent for me.

'I do not see any reason for you to deny him.'

And just like that, she concludes the conversation. The doorbell rings in the distance and she goes to answer it with one last look at me, 'It is all in your hands now.' She says before leaving.

All in my hands. Dad's health, his happiness, Mama's happiness, all in my hands. A big responsibility laid on me. A single yes, and it would all be sorted out.

I take my lukewarm coffee back to my room and snuggle to ponder over the dilemma that I now face. My parents' happiness versus my happiness. The choice was as simple as that. And when put down like that the answer to it was obvious as well, no matter it came at a cost that I will have to pay.

Life slips back into its monotone routine, library, home, sleep. I realize I am only trying to evade the one thing that I should face head-on.

In the afternoon I reluctantly accompany dad and Eliza for a walk. Ira, who had come along with Eliza after college, also joins our little group. Dad, Eliza and Ira jog ahead while I stroll behind them. The sun is subdued, yellow and doesn't beat harshly upon me. There is a perceptible change in the temperature, the evenings are cooler than before. Winter will soon be here.

Eliza jogs backwards to me, 'Come on, be a sport.'

'No thanks.' I retort.

We approach the small park in our area, dad heads inside and we follow his steps. Ira stops and looks behind, seeing that we haven't kept up with her she retraces her way. She slows down beside me, gasping for breath. I hand her a bottle of water.

She sits down on a bench placing the bottle to her lips, a grateful sigh escaping her. She bounces back up from her seat as if electrocuted, water sputtering from her mouth. Her eyes, open wide in shock, are fixed at a point behind my head.

'What's...' I begin but Eliza beats me to it. She is already standing beside Ira, and removed the bottle from her hands and thrusts it at me.

'Is it that guy?' I hear her ask. I turn around immediately to locate him. I spot the retreating figure of a tall, dark, broad guy hurrying away. I think I see the hint of a beard. Something about him strikes me as familiar but I cannot pinpoint where I had seen him. It is a shame considering my limited social interaction.

'I have to go home.' Says Ira, her voice firm. The earlier shock is wiped from her face. Instead, she is back to her usual self, even a little smile peeks out. But I notice the tight lines around her mouth, I notice the way her eyes flit here and there though she assures Eliza that it was nothing, only a misunderstanding of some sort. I notice how she clenches her hand. That, there, is an art that both brother and sister seem to have acquired. I have often noticed the same with Maaz.
To not give a single hint to the storm unwinding inside. That is how I know she is hiding something.

Eliza takes Ira back home while I wait for dad to complete his run.

After dinner, I have a strange craving for sweet. I recollect that I had brought home Oreos from the market, a few days ago. I rummage around my room in search for it. My ringing phone interrupts me. I look at it in shock and answer it a minute too late, a little breathless in my haste to pick it up before it stops.

It is an unknown number and I don't know who to expect.

'What are you doing?' Relief washes over me as I hear his voice and it dawns on me that I may have been missing him. How ridiculous!

I was afraid we had destroyed what little friendship we had forged over the past few months.

'Oh, it's you.' I whisper. I had not saved his number. I did not think I would be calling him or vice versa.

'Is there anyone else who would call you this late?' He asks.

'No. And to answer your question I was searching for Oreo. Eliza has eaten the lot.' I complain.

'Poor you.' He says, not sounding sympathetic at all.

'I'm really craving some right now.'  I say, annoyed at his frivolousness.

He laughs at my whining.

At that moment Dad walks into the kitchen, he looks at me inquiringly. The phone in my hand and me talking to someone confuses him.

'Are you on the phone?' He asks, his voice tinged with surprise.

'Uh okay, I got to hang up.' I say.

Maaz pauses for a moment, 'Uncle Amir? Tell him I said hi.' He says, still laughing and hangs up.

I cannot resist rolling my eyes at him though he can't see me. Dad's gaze makes me feel conscious, like I was caught doing something wrong.

'Who was it ?' Dad asks once more, bewildered at my composure.

'Umm, it was...Maaz.' I manage to say.

He gives me a knowing smile that says I told you so. 'Of course, dad, you have always been right.' I mutter to myself.

I'm ready to jump into bed when I receive a text.

Did you see the stars tonight?

I smile stupidly at my phone. This time I do have the number saved.

No.

I type back.

Go out and see them.

Are you ordering me?

Maybe.

I slip into my flip flops, making my way out of the room. I run my hand through my hair straightening them out, still smiling at my phone.

I walk outside into the darkness. I pry open the French Windows and head to the lawn. I let my head fall back, ready to let the stars dazzle me.

Instead, I'm greeted by red splotchy clouds drifting across the sky, with no stars in sight. I blink in confusion searching for the stars.

Warmth embraces me from behind, before I can scream a hand covers my mouth. My heart thuds faster and I map out possible ways to hit the intruder and defend myself.

'Shh... it is me.' I relax as I recognize the voice.

I flip around angrily, 'Did you have to scare me like that ?'

'Relax, I didn't want you to scream and wake the house up.' He replies defiantly.

'I would not have screamed if you had informed me.'

'That would kill the meaning of a surprise though, wouldn't it ?' He shrugs.

I huff and walk away from him. He is amused by my anger. He jogs over to me and starts to walk backwards, facing me. His eyes dance with laughter, his hair as always is wild. He wears a plain white, half -sleeved shirt and denim pants.

'I thought you were craving Oreo.' He says bringing his hand out in front. He holds up a small blue package. My eyes light up. I pick it up from his hand and he bows dramatically in front of me.

He has taken me by surprise yet again. I cannot help but smile at this boy who drove over in the middle of the night to fulfill my craving. And I see a glint of what dad saw in him. A glimmer of hope. For now, that was all that I needed.

'How is Ira?' I ask him once I am halfway through the packet of Oreos.

'Ira? What about her?' He is puzzled.

I do not know whether I should inform him of the incident. Ira was quite protective of him, having been the one to take care of him after their mother passed away. I had assumed he would have known, considering how close their relationship is.

'Nothing, she... um left early.'

'She was here?'

'Yeah, we went for a walk to the park.' I say. He stays quiet, lost in thoughts for a few minutes.

I mull over our last encounter and make a spur of the moment decision. Maybe it was that I have been missing him, maybe it was that he came here so late at night, maybe it was the constant pushing of Mama, maybe it was Dad's health that I take lead of the conversation.

We are seated on the chairs in the lawn. He occupies the very same chair opposite mine, that dad had, when he had advised me that night, asking me to move on. I take it as a sign.

'What if I say yes?' I question him.

'Say yes?' He comes out from his thoughts, looking at me perplexedly.

His gaze is fixed on me and I feel my earlier confidence waver, I almost want to say something else. Before I chicken out, I plod on.

'Say yes to getting married.' I whisper ever so softly, my eyes closing shut hoping it might lessen the impact to my heart, which revolts with erratic thuds.

Sometimes in life you, don't get what your heart wants, sometimes you need to make the right decisions and give in to your brain. You need to be brave and believe that the brain has been placed above the heart for a reason.

'You would?' He looks at me in shock, perhaps taken aback. That makes two of us.

'If I do?' I ask.

'It will then become my goal to make you the happiest person and I would do anything to achieve that.'

'You can start by informing dad. I don't want to hear him say I told you so.' I say with a small smile.

'Okay. Appointment with uncle Amir the first thing tomorrow morning. It will make his day.' He says.

I stare at my hands wondering what had just occurred. I decide to stay resolute on the path I have chosen no matter what happens henceforth. For Dad's happiness, I tell myself.

We sit in silence for a long time. I try not to think too much. An hour later he gets up and stretches his long legs. His eyes are heavy with sleep. God knows what he does all day that tires him out so much. He looks down at me, I turn away, not quite meeting his gaze.

'Nothing is going to change between us, is it?' He kneels down in front of me, placing his hands on either side of the chair, trapping me between them. I stare at my lap, my ears pounding. I can feel his warmth around me, in spite of him not touching me. It makes it harder to think. I dare not look into his eyes.

I don't want to lie to him, I can't promise him that.

'Only time will tell.' I answer honestly

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