Chapter 18 is up on stck

•••

Kian stared at his phone for a long time, Ishmal’s number glowing on the screen. Should he call or not? The internal conflict was relentless, but finally, he pressed the call button.

He couldn’t spend his life tormenting himself with overthinking. Marriage wasn’t a joke. It was a lifelong commitment. And before stepping into it, he needed to know about her past.

The first ring went through. Then the second. The third... "Hello," Ishmal’s soft voice came from the other end, making Kian take a deep breath.

"Kian bol raha hoon." he introduced himself, and for a moment, he could feel her breath hitch.

(Kian speaking,)

On the other side, not only did Ishmal’s breath stop, but her face flushed as well. Turning slightly away, she softly responded, "Assalam-Alaikum."

Sobia, who had rushed over as soon as she heard about the wedding, was watching Ishmal’s changing expressions with great curiosity.

"Walekum-Assalam, uncle kaise hain?" Kian asked, choosing to first inquire about Zarrar’s well-being.

(How is Uncle?)

"Theek hain..." Ishmal barely got the words out before someone snatched the phone from her hand.

(He’s fine...)

Shocked, she turned to see Sobia grinning mischievously.

"Sobi!" Ishmal was ready to scold her, but Sobia was already pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Kian bhai. Main Sobia bol rahi hoon. Ishmal ki iklouti aur pakki dost." she introduced herself proudly.

(Hello, Kian bhai! I’m Sobia, Ishmal’s one and only true best friend,)

Kian pulled the phone away from his ear for a second, staring at it in mild disbelief and irritation before bringing it back. "Hi..."

"Waise isne mujhe bataya nahi ki apki call hai, par iska blush dekhke main samajh gayi kon ho sakta hai." Sobia teased, smirking at Ishmal, who was desperately trying to snatch the phone back. Sobia dodged her attempts and stood up, moving further away.

(She didn’t tell me it was you calling, but judging by how red she turned, I had a pretty good guess.)

"Aap toh kuch bol hi nahi rahe," she pointed out when Kian hadn’t responded.

(You’re awfully quiet,)

"Aap mouka nahi de rahi hain," Kian finally recovered, his voice light but controlled.

(Because you haven’t given me a chance to speak.)

"Sobia!" Ishmal hissed, glaring daggers at her, signaling to return the phone.

Sobia pouted dramatically. "Main mouka doon na doon lekin Ishmal nahi de rahi. Usko uska phone wapas chahiye. Koi baat nahi, apse main shadi mein milungi. Bye!"

(Whether I give you a chance or not, Ishmal certainly won’t. She wants her phone back. No worries, I’ll meet you at the wedding. Bye!)

Without waiting for his reply, she handed the phone back to Ishmal, who immediately fled to the attached balcony of her room.

"I'm sorry about her. Ussey aaj hi pata chala toh..." Ishmal quickly tried to explain.

(I’m so sorry about her. She just found out today, so...)

"Koi baat nahi. Shayad maine galat time call kar diya, main baad mein call karunga." And just like that, he hung up before she could say anything else.

(It’s alright. Maybe I called at the wrong time. I’ll call later.)

Ishmal stared at the phone in her hand, a new worry settling over her.

Had Kian taken offense?

Her brothers-in-law got angry over the smallest things—was he the same?

"Kya hua? Phone rakh diya?" Sobia’s voice broke her thoughts as she peeked through the glass door, watching Ishmal still clutching her phone.

(What happened? He hung up?)

•••

With tired steps, Eifa entered her room. Today had been an exhausting day. The morning had started with a spat with Shahnan, and on top of that, her day at the university hadn’t gone well either. Now, she just wanted to lock herself in her room and shut everything out.

But as soon as she stepped inside, her eyes fell on Sharfa, sitting cross-legged on the floor, stroking Lily’s fur, her fingers idly twirling the kitten’s ears. That’s when Eifa remembered—she had scolded Sharfa unnecessarily that morning.

"Momo," she called while dropping her bag onto the table. Sharfa looked up, blinking at her, and Eifa rushed to apologize before she could respond. "Sorry maine subah tumhe daat diya tha."

(I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning.)

Sharfa, however, just waved a hand dismissively. "It's okay, Eifa. Hume bura nahi laga."

(It’s okay, Eifa. I didn’t mind.)

Then, tilting her head thoughtfully, she added, "Actually hume jaldi kisi bhi baat ka bura nahi lagta. Lekin jab lagta hai bohot zyada lagta hai. Tab, tab hum phir baat nahi karte, ek baar bhai se humne pure 1 month baat nahi ki thi. Kyuki next day hi woh apne college chale gaye aur unhe pata hi nahi tha I was angry. Phir woh aye tab tak hum bhool gaye the ki hum toh gussa kyu hain, woh toh..."

(Actually, I don’t get upset easily. But when I do, it really gets to me. And when that happens, I just stop talking. Once, I didn’t speak to Bhai for a whole month, because the very next day, he left for college and didn’t even realize I was mad at him. By the time he came home for the holidays, I had already forgotten why I was supposed to be angry. Then he...)

"Momo, it's okay se kaam chal gaya tha." Eifa interrupted.

(Momo, it's okay would have been enough,)

Sharfa pouted, her lips forming a perfect little curve of offense. "Well, I did say it’s okay."

Eifa exhaled a tired sigh and plopped down beside her. She ran a hand through her hair before turning to face Sharfa directly. "Kya main yeh trust kar sakti hoon ki tum kisiko nahi bataogi inn sab ke barey mein?"

(Can I trust you not to tell anyone about all this?)

At the question, Sharfa froze, her fingers pausing mid-stroke on Lily’s fur. A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes as she tapped her chin, looking around as if weighing the question very seriously.

Eifa narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Kisi mein Al doesn't count, right?" Sharfa finally asked, her voice laced with innocent curiosity.

(Al doesn’t count, right?)

Eifa’s stomach dropped. Her hand twitched with the urge to smack her own forehead. "You already told Aliyar?"

Sharfa gave her best ‘oops’ smile, but before Eifa could scold her, she quickly continued, "Lekin ghar pe kisi ko nahi bataya." Then she added. "Because Kullu thi nahi ghar pe."

(But I didn't tell anyone at home.)

(Because Kullu wasn’t at home.)

Eifa stiffened, her expression turning more cautious. "Tum ghar pe, ya ghar ke bahar kisiko kuch nahi bataogi," She instructed.

(You won’t tell anyone at home, or outside.)

"Okay," Sharfa nodded eagerly, all too obediently. But something about her overenthusiastic agreement made Eifa suspect she wasn’t done causing trouble just yet.

•••

Arsalan planned a dinner for all the cousins because Kian was getting married.

Ehan, of course, couldn’t stay silent and immediately interrupted. "Technically Kian ko dena chahiye treat."

(Technically, Kian should be the one treating us.)

"Bade toh tum bhi ho, tumhe dena chahiye treat." Arsalan deflected, shifting the responsibility onto him.

(You’re the eldest, so you should give the treat.)

Ehan quickly backed away. "Apse chota hoon."

(I’m younger than you.)

"Tum sabko leke jao, main Azrin ko leke ata hoon." Arsalan dismissed him. Ehan obediently nodded, though no one really believed Azrin would come. It had been a long time since she had gone out, and the last time she had, it had been with Sharfa. Only to fall sick afterwards. So, everyone assumed she wouldn’t come this time either.

(Just take everyone along. I’ll go get Azrin.)

"Eifa, suno..." Ehan pulled Eifa aside, his tone dropping into a whisper.

(Eifa, listen...)

Whatever he said made Eifa’s eyes widen in shock. "Pagal ho, waqt dekha hai?" she scolded him in a harsh whisper.

(Are you crazy? Do you even know what time it is?)

"Baat toh karke dekho," Ehan insisted.

(Just talk to her once,)

Eifa sighed, shaking her head in reluctant agreement before walking off to find Ayla.

Meanwhile, Arsalan stood outside Azrin’s door, hesitating.

He had never feared anything in life, yet here he was, unable to bring himself to knock. Not because he was afraid of rejection, but because he couldn’t bear to see her like this. Azrin, who had once been full of life, who had once celebrated every little moment with uncontainable joy, had now locked herself away from the world.

But Rukhsar was right. They had been childhood friends. If anyone had to try, it had to be him.

He exhaled slowly, steeling himself, and knocked.

A few moments later, the door creaked open. Azrin stood before him, her face blank with surprise. She looked thinner, paler—like a faded version of the girl he once knew.

"Arsalan Bhai?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

"Sabka aaj bahar dinner karne ka plan hai, tum bhi chalo." Arsalan said, his voice gentle. He even attempted a small smile, hoping to coax some warmth from her.

(Everyone’s going out for dinner tonight. Come with us.)

Azrin blinked, her fingers tightening on the doorframe. It had been so long since they had spoken like this, with any sense of normalcy. The thought of stepping out, of being around people again, made her chest tighten.

"Nahi, main theek hoon." she murmured, shaking her head.

(No, I’m fine.)

Arsalan’s jaw tensed, but he kept his frustration in check. "Yeh dinner Kian ke liye hai." he reminded her. "Tum toh Kian ki har cheez celebrate karti thi. Usne 1st class graduate kiya tha tumne tab usko treat di thi. Ab woh shadi kar raha hai toh kya tum uski khushiyon mein uske sath nahi hogi."

(This dinner is for Kian.)

(You used to celebrate every little thing for him. When he graduated first class, you gave him a treat. Now he’s getting married, don’t you want to share his happiness?)

Azrin’s grip on the doorframe loosened slightly.

Then Arsalan spoke again, this time his voice softer. "Hum sab tumko kafi miss karte hain, Azrin, lekin sabse zyada Kian karta hai. Kam se kam uske liye aaj humare sath chalo."

(We all miss you a lot, Azrin, but Kian misses you the most. At least for his sake, come with us today.)

The words hit like a crack of thunder.

No one at home had ever confronted her like this. They had let her be, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to. For two years, she had been allowed to exist in silence, untouched, unbothered. This was the first time someone had dared to tell her she was wrong.

Without a word, she shut the door.

Arsalan stared at the closed door, his chest heavy with disappointment. He had expected this. Still, it didn’t make it any easier.

With a sigh, he turned away, stepping outside. This wasn’t going to be easy. Azrin wasn’t going to magically step out of the shadows just because he asked her to. But he had no intention of giving up. He would try again and again for as long as it took.

He had just settled into his car when he caught movement from the main door.

Azrin.

She had changed into fresh clothes—nothing extravagant, just a simple salwar kameez. Her long hair was pulled into a loose braid, but her face remained pale, her expression unreadable.

Without meeting his eyes, she walked toward the car, pulled the door open, and got in.

Arsalan watched her in silence, something unreadable passing through his gaze. She didn’t say a word, but she had come.

And for now, that was enough.

With a soft smile, Arsalan started the car. Azrin sat beside him, avoiding his gaze, looking out the window at the passing road. She didn’t want to come. Crowds made her uneasy, and she had no desire to talk to anyone. But Kian was her younger brother. Even when she stayed locked in her room, he would still come to see her. He even even brought Ishmal to meet her because Azrin’s opinion mattered to him. How could she even think of leaving him alone on such a special occasion?

As they entered the restaurant, their eyes immediately landed on a long table near the window, where two tables had been joined to fit their large family. Kian was already seated with Arman, Nomi, Kulsoom, and Sharfa.

The moment he saw Azrin, his face lit up with surprise and joy. He immediately stood, pulling out the chair beside him. Azrin hesitated for a fraction of a second before quietly taking the seat, her gaze lowered.

"Baki sab kaha hain?" Arsalan asked as he slid into the seat next to Arman.

(Where are the others?)

Ehan, Eifa, Huda, and Shahnan were supposed to arrive in another car, but they were nowhere in sight.

"I don’t know. They were right behind us," Sharfa started telling, but once she began, she always forgot to stop. "Hum piche dekh rahe the phir Arman bhai ne bura wala song play kiya jisko Nomi ne kaha change karo, but bhai sunn hi nahi rahe the toh hum unhe kehne ke liye idhar hue aur phir unn log ki car vanish ho gayi. Lekin kisine humara yakeen nahi kiya." Arman made a face every time Momo called him "bhai," but no one noticed because everyone was too busy listening to Momo.

(I was checking on them, but then Arman bhai played this really bad song. Nomi told him to change it, but he wouldn’t listen, so I turned to tell him off, and the next thing I knew, their car had disappeared. But no one believed me.)

"Ab pata nahi kaha gaye woh log, hum hungry hain." she added dramatically, throwing herself against the back of her chair.

(God knows where they are. I'm hungry.)

Arsalan sighed, pulling out his phone. "I’ll call Ehan. Tum log tab tak order toh karo."

(You guys go ahead and order in the meantime.)

"Yes, please order karlo, warna Momo yeh khane lagegi," Nomi joked, pointing at the fake potted plant in the center of the table.

(Yes, please order, or else Momo will start eating this.)

Sharfa glared at him but didn’t deny it. Truthfully, she was starving.

Before Arsalan could dial, the restaurant doors swung open, and Ehan and the others finally entered.

Kian, mid-conversation with Azrin, looked up. His smile faltered for a brief second when his eyes found Ishmal walking in beside Eifa before his eyes lit up again.

"Oh, look, Ishu bhabhi!" Sharfa’s voice rang out excitedly.

"Momo, don’t point," Kulsoom hissed, lowering her hand. But it was too late—Sharfa’s enthusiasm had already drawn attention from around them.

Ishmal, catching the eyes on her, immediately looked away, embarrassed. "Assalam-Alaikum," she greeted softly before moving toward an empty seat at the far end of the table.

But before she could sit, Huda quickly slipped into the chair, followed by Eifa right beside her.

Ishmal paused. The only available seat now was across from Kian.

Her hands tightened around the fabric of her dress. She knew Huda and Eifa had done this on purpose.

After a slight hesitation, she lowered her gaze and quietly took the seat opposite Kian.

Across the table, Kian, who had been watching her every move, quickly looked away the moment their eyes almost met.

"You’re welcome," Ehan muttered smugly, dropping into the chair beside Kian. It had been his plan, after all.

Meanwhile, Kulsoom, who had been sitting beside Eifa, felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Shahnan gesturing for her to move. Without a word, she got up.

Anyone else, she would’ve argued with, claiming she was there first. But Shahnan was different. He wasn’t strict or short-tempered, but his quiet demeanor made it difficult for her to argue with him. She always felt a certain respect, or maybe an odd sense of intimidation, around him.

She assumed he wanted to sit next to his sister, so she moved and found a seat between Ehan and Nomi instead.

Shahnan slid into the seat between Eifa and Sharfa.

Eifa, startled by his sudden presence, turned to him with a sharp frown. "Idhar kyu baith rahe ho?" she whispered, her voice firm but low enough to not draw attention.

(Why are you sitting here?)

Everyone else was busy studying the menu, too occupied to notice their quiet exchange.

"Meri marzi." Shahnan replied simply.

(Because I want to.)

Eifa exhaled sharply. "Uss taraf jake baitho." She gestured toward the other side of the table where the boys were seated. "Aise achha nahi lagta."

(Go sit over there.)

(It doesn’t look good sitting here.)

"Lekin mujhe achha lagta hai." he said smoothly, the faintest trace of amusement in his voice.

(But I like it.)

Eifa clenched her jaw, pressing her lips together in frustration. With an exaggerated motion, she lifted the menu and held it up in front of her face, blocking him from her view.

Talking to Shahnan was a sure way to ruin her mood.

Ishmal and Kian sat directly across from each other. How could their eyes not wander to one another? Every time their gazes met, Ishmal would quickly lower hers, but the blush on her cheeks only deepened.

While Kian was wondering—was the innocent-looking girl sitting in front of him really as she appeared? He couldn’t decide. If he tried to convince himself that mistakes happen at that age, his mind immediately countered—but I never made such a mistake.

There was an ongoing war between his heart and mind, each pulling him in a different direction, and in the middle of it all, his peace was slowly being destroyed.

Dinner went on smoothly, with lighthearted conversations and the occasional teasing. Despite the slight awkwardness between Ishmal and Kian, the atmosphere remained warm.

Once they had all finished, they made their way out of the restaurant. The cool night breeze greeted them as they stepped outside, bringing a welcome relief from the warmth inside. The parking lot was dimly lit, the streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement.

"Yaha toh houseful hai," Ehan said, grabbing Momo by the arm and settling her into the car while she kept protesting, "Hey, hey!" He then turned to Ishmal with an apologetic look.

(It’s completely full here,)

"Kian, Ishmal ko tum drop kardo." he called out to Kian, who was unlocking his car. At Ehan’s words, Kian looked up, then nodded and gestured for Ishmal to come over. Without meeting anyone’s gaze, Ishmal silently walked to his car and got in.

(Kian, drop Ishmal off.)

Seeing this, Arman, who had already taken a seat in Kian’s car, stepped out. "Main bhai ke sath aunga." he said and moved to stand with Ehan and the others.

(I’ll go with bhai,)

"Ab chale?" Sharfa leaned her head out of the window, feeling restless from sitting inside the car for too long.

(Can we go now?)

Meanwhile, Azrin walked toward Arsalan's car, absently adjusting the dupatta draped over her shoulders. Just as she reached for the car door handle, a voice cut through the air—

"Emmad!"

Azrin’s entire body stiffened. Her breath hitched, her hand freezing mid-air. The name echoed in her ears, a sharp dagger piercing through her heart.

Slowly, as if afraid of what she might see, she turned her head.

A teenage girl stood a few feet away, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Emmad, tum meri sunte kyu nahi!" she urged, reaching for the arm of a teenage boy who seemed reluctant to stay. He muttered something in response, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to calm her down.

(Emmad, why don’t you ever listen to me?)

Azrin barely registered the scene. Her mind had already been pulled into the past.

Emmad…

The name she hadn’t spoken in years. A storm of memories crashed against her—familiar voices, whispered promises.

She couldn’t breathe.

"Azrin?"

A warm hand gently touched her arm, grounding her back to the present. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring for a second before she saw Arsalan standing beside her, his brows furrowed in concern. "Theek ho?" he asked softly.

(Are you okay?)

Azrin looked lost, as if she hadn’t fully grasped what had just happened.

"Kya hua?" The rest of the group had also come there, their presence making the space feel even more crowded, adding to Azrin’s discomfort.

(What happened?)

"Kuch nahi, chalo," Arsalan said, as if he had instinctively understood her unease. Without further explanation, he gestured for everyone to head out.

(Nothing, let's go,)

Half of the group piled into Ehan’s car, while the rest took seats in Arsalan’s.

Arsalan had noticed that Azrin seemed disturbed, but with everyone around, he didn’t think it was the right time to ask. Still, his eyes kept drifting toward her, silently observing, as if trying to decipher what was on her mind.

•••

The car was filled with a deep, unsettling silence—one that made Ishmal increasingly nervous. She fidgeted absentmindedly, her fingers brushing against her earring, then her wristwatch, and finally, she turned to stare out the window. She had no idea how to start a conversation.

Before, it was Kian who had tried to make her feel at ease, who had broken the silence with casual remarks. But today, he remained quiet, his expression unreadable, his focus entirely on the road as he drove with an unusual seriousness.

Kian, too, was lost in his own turmoil. He had the perfect opportunity to ask, but where was he supposed to begin? This wasn’t some casual conversation that he could start lightly. He needed the right words, the right moment. But as he kept searching for them, time slipped through his fingers.

So much so that he didn’t even realize when they had passed Ishmal’s house.

"Ghar agaya," Ishmal’s soft voice cut through the silence, pulling him back to reality.

(We have reached home.)

Only then did Kian realize his mistake—he had let the moment slip away. Cursing himself internally, he quickly put the car in reverse and stopped in front of her house.

Without another word, Ishmal unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out. The watchman opened the gate, and she walked inside without looking back.

Kian remained in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he watched her disappear into the house. He sat there for a long moment, frustration bubbling within him.

Why did I let the moment go?

•••

The room was silent, cloaked in darkness, except for the dim glow of Azrin’s phone screen. A flickering light that barely held back the night. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers curled tightly around the device, as if letting go would make the words disappear.

Her eyes remained fixed on the message—the same one she had read countless times, yet each time, it hit her like a fresh wound reopening.

"Main apni zindagi ke kisi mod pe pachtana nahi chahta, isliye socha tumhse dil ki baat keh doon. Mujhe tum pasand ho. Kitni? Yeh main bhi nahi janta, bas itna janta hoon ki agar maine kisi ke liye koi khas ehsas mehsoos kiya hai toh woh sirf tum ho, Aala Azrin."

(I don’t want to reach a point in my life where I regret not saying this, so here it is, I like you. How much? Even I don’t know. All I do know is that if I’ve ever felt something truly special for someone, it’s only for you, Aala Azrin.)

•••

Ramadan mubarak, everyone.

I have so much to say, but I’ve already forgotten more than half of it🙊. Anyway, I’ll just share the important bits. I’m going to be really busy in the coming days.

First, Ramadan is here. I don’t usually take a proper break from Wattpad during Ramadan, but it’s also not my priority, so I can’t guarantee regular updates😬👉🏻👈🏻

Second, I have my exams in April, and my bhai's wedding is also coming up (please pray that everything goes smoothly!). So, of course, I’ll be quite occupied with that. Honestly, I’ve been busy since the start of the year. On the 27th, it was Sharar’s anniversary, and I had planned to do something for it, but my bhai's in-laws visited that day, and I completely forgot what date it was.

Anyway, knowing all this doesn’t really matter. I just wanted to let you all know that if I don’t update or seem inactive, don’t worry! I’ll try my best not to disappear completely and will post chapters here and there whenever I can.

Khair, how was the update?

-Ufaq

Taiyaba_Bushra this one is for you 💕