Darya was tired. Her entire life she had never felt so vulnerable, so weak. At the moment she cursed herself, her life, her identity as a woman. She didn't have any hopes, she had lost it all. Life was going, the way it was going was fine. Wasn't it? That's what everyone told her.

"Zaryab aaya hai tume lekar jaane." Her mother's rough voice rang through the room dragging her out of her miserable thoughts.

"Ammi, hume kuch aur din rehna hai." She found herself whispering back meekly.

"Ladki, ek hafta hogaya tume aaye. Tumhare shohar ke saath apne ghar jao." Came her mother's gruff reply causing Darya to scoff in frustration.

"Wo ghar mera nahi hai, Ammi!"

"Darya! Khamosh. Astagfirullah, tumhare Baba jaani ne sun liya to tumhari khair nahi. Ye ghar bhi tumhara nahi hai, tum mehmaan ho." Her mother thundered in anger, almost ready to smack her.

Remorseful tears started flowing down her cheeks at her mother's insensitive words. Her body reverberated in jerky sobs causing her mother to launch into action coming to her side.

"Darya, kya ho gaya hai. Chup hoja ladki."

"I don't want to go back to that house. Everyone hates me there. Wo maar denge mujhe, Ammi. Mujhe jaan se maar denge."Darya cried on her mother's chest, hoping her mother asked her to stay. But that never came. Her mother feared Baba Jaani more than she loved Darya.

And just like that a hour later, Darya sat in the Black Range Rover that belonged to her husband, taking them to his home.

"Tum royi thi?" Her husband questioned slowly breaking the awful silence that filled the car his eyes kept drifting off to her.

She simply shook her head, not bothering to answer back. Her heart was too heavy with fear of the insults and taunts that awaited her.

"Dinner kiya hai tumne?"Came his next question but Darya once agin answered only with mute gestures.

"Dari.."He sighed heavily, taking her hand and placing it on the gear stick before covering his own hand over it. "Narazi khatam karo ab. Maine ghar pe sab sambhal liya hai."

Normally, Darya would've swooned at her husband's gesture but it only irked her. She hated how he dusted things under the rug like always to avoid conflict. Most times Darya would let go of her anger and go back to suffering in silence but this time her patience was running thin.

"You say the same thing every time, Zaryab. Aur har baad mein bewakoof aap par aitbaar karti hoon. Mujhse nahi hota ab aur. Dum ghutta hai mera." Darya screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks, her eyes distraught.

"What do you want me to do? Huh? They are my family. I can't abandon them, Darya!" Zaryab replied, averting his gaze from her teary face. Her tears had always affected him. They made him weak. "If you won't understand my condition, who else will?"

This was the same dialogue he repeated every time she went to him with her concerns. He made her feel like she was burdening him with her problems. Initially he used to listen to her, console her. But now it felt like she was nothing but a nuisance to her husband. She had stopped complaining after a point when she realised it was useless. She kept to herself, didn't let her problems show. But, last week it had left a mark on her self respect. She couldn't bear it anymore.

Snatching her hand from underneath his, she turned to the other side, her eyes still dripping with tears, she only felt pain all over her body and soul.

"Darya..."Her husband called out again but she didn't pay him any heed, soon they reached the grand haveli. The wealthiest and the biggest in the entire town. It afterall belonged to the council leader.

Darya's hands shivered, as she got down from the vehicle, her head bowed inside the huge shawl covering her body, she began walking behind Zaryab, entering the haveli. Her head was starting to spin at all the horrendous possibilities that would make her the victim of a crime she didn't commit. All those morbid things that her mother-in-law had accused her of.

"Zaryab! You have come early today?" Came her mother-in-law's voice, she probably had missed Darya's small frame behind her son's.

"Jee, Ammi. I went to get Darya."

"What?! Why did you bring her back? Get out, girl!" Her mother-in-law fumed red, storming towards her, she clutched Darya's hand tightly dragging her out. But, Zaryab sprung into action, pulling his wife towards himself, standing in front of her. Shielding her from his mother.

"Meri haq halal ki biwi hai wo, Ammi. She has more rights than anyone in this house." Zaryab raged against loudly, his eyes challenging.

"Zaryab-b" Benazir Khan, stuttered at her son's insolence. Her son usually never went against her wishes, his harsh tone left her baffled. "You know what she has done! How can you even accept her after that?"

"What has she done, Ammi?" He questioned, his forehead bunching in tension.

"She is spoiling your sister's life with her wretched modernity. She is plaguing my daughter!"

"Your daughter isn't a small girl that can be influenced. Teach her to take some accountability for her actions." Zaryab declared, his brows inching up in annoyance.

"You will question my upbringing now for this girl? She was the one who got my Shanzai involved with that boy. Who knows how many more boys your wife is in contact with?" Benazir, refused to back down, her body shaking in anger and embarrassment at her son's disobedience.

"Darya! Go to our room." Zaryab yelled, causing Darya to flinch in fear. She knew this was going to happen. Her skin crawled with tension. It was never her intention to make her husband and mother in law fight. She just wanted to protect her selfish respect. Her izzat.

"Darya! Jao!" He thundered again but she stood rooted in her place, unable to move a limb.

"Arey, ye kyu jaaegi! Sab to iske karname hai. Ghar mein gandh machayi hui hai isne...." Before her mother-in-law could complete the sentence, Zaryab dragged her arm and pulled her to their room. Darya, stumbled behind as he took angry steps, his hand clutching her wrist in a metal grip. It would surely leave bruises.

Pushing her into the room, he pointed his finger at her in anger, his eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched tight.
"You aren't leaving this room until I return! Is that clear?"

Darya stared at him emotionlessly. Was he punishing her just like his mother? Had she lost her husband as well?
She didn't reply, but he left anyways. Leaving her all alone in their room to dwell in misery.

A week ago, when Darya had left the house she knew her life would again come back to the same four walls. Her husband wasn't home back then, and after the depreciation of her existence she didn't see the need to stay in a place that didn't need her. She remembered calling her husband in this very room, crying and sobbing, begging him to save her. But he wasn't there. He never was when she was being subjected to cruelty.

A week ago, her mother in law had found out that her daughter, Shanzai was having an affair with a boy called Zafar. Unfortunately for Darya, Zafar was her classmate in college. So Shanzai had very conveniently blamed everything on Darya for the outcome of her affair. She left her to come under the wrath of Benazir who already hated Darya.

She called her names, insulted her in front of all her relatives, all the staff. She was treated worse than even the most lowly insects. Her mother in law hated how Darya had done her masters, she was far more educated than the women of the house, even more than Zaryab. She had never deemed fit to see Darya as a worthy spouse for her son, but the ages old treaty between their families had left her helpless.

Darya had narrated everything to Zaryab, her khuda had saved her at least in the eyes of her husband, but it still costed her everything.

A wave of nausea suddenly passed through her body, as she clutched her mouth and sprinted towards the bathroom, her body swinging in vertigo. She fell down in front of the toilet bowl, heaving heavily and throwing up, thin beads of perspiration lined her body as she coiled her hands around her abdomen before losing conscious. In the background she could hear her husband's voice calling out to her as she drifted off into oblivion.

—-

When Darya's eyes flickered open next, the first thing she heard was she was pregnant. She was four weeks pregnant.

People around her rejoiced at the news, her husband, in-laws, her parents. Everything that was inflicted on her was forgotten, the pain, the trauma, the cruel words, allegations.

But, she remained mum. Her heart trembling at the thought of the growing life within her. Of the future that it would be destined to. She didn't for once feel happy, she felt fear.

Her bones were on fire, her throat raw from screaming to people who wouldn't ever hear her voice. So she cried herself to sleep that night silently muttering apologies to her womb, hoping it would hear her.

Forgive me, darling. Forgive me, your mother isn't strong enough.

Days then turned to weeks, she once again decided to suffer in silence. She did everything that she was asked of, her chores were still the same despite the morning sickness, fatigue and constant heart burn.

She would wake up everyday at fajar, make breakfast for everyone and pack lunches for her husband, sister and brother in law. Help around the kitchen for lunch and dinner, take care of any guests her mother-in-law called, hear a few taunts about not being good enough, run around doing household chores that didn't need attention and then finally return back to her room late at night, to a husband who would rarely be home or asleep after work.

Her appearance had drastically changed, pregnancy was supposed to give her a glow but she hardly existed in a skeleton of a body. Her skin pale, clinging to her bones, cheeks sunken in and lips cracked with dried blood from the constant lip biting.

Every time somebody pointed out about her detrimental health and need to rest, her mother in law brushed it off like it was nothing. Her exact words were,
"I gave birth to three children and look how healthy they are. I used to do double the work, she does. It's good for the baby."

Darya woke up with the hopes of not being alive, she was becoming selfish, she wished she passed away in her sleep. Nobody anyways cared for her wither she was dead or alive, right?

One day as she entered her room she was surprised to be met with the sight of her husband as he looked at her wide eyed with a smile. He had just returned from a month long trip.

The sight of his wife made him swallow a lump in his throat. The beautiful girl he had left behind, who would just light up the entire room with her presence now had ceased to exist, even the tiny bump on her stomach was hardly there.

"Zaryab, when did you come? Wait, let me bring you dinner.." Just as she was about to leave he grabbed her arms, flinching at the unfamiliar bony structure and made her sit on their bed.

"Kya haal kar liya hai tumne apna, Dari?" He mumbled, removing the chadar from her shoulders, his fingers caressing her skin.

She remained mute, her once glimmering eyes full of hope now looking dead, lost.

"Ek mahine ke liye gaya tha mai, meri khubsoorat mutmaen si biwi chod kar. Kahan chalo gayi wo?" He tried joking but was rewarded with just blank stares.

"Mar gayi wo, Zaryab." Darya whispered back, cracking a small rueful smile. "Khair, leave all that. You must be hungry, let me bring you food."

Leaving him dumbfounded she got up and left the room, her movements brisk and full of purpose. Zaryab didn't even have time to react to her harsh words. Had something happened? Did his mother do something?

When she returned with a tray full of food, like always she didn't sit beside him and yap his ears off about all that had happened when he was away, she simply changed to her night clothes and proceeded to sit down at her side of the bed as she picked up a novel and started reading.

"Darya." Zaryab's stern voice echoed from across the room where he was seated on the couch with the food. "Did you have your dinner?"

"Jee.." She replied not looking at him.

"What did you have?" He questioned standing up from his place.

"Daal and Roti.." Once again came her short reply.

"When biryani was made why did you have that?"

"Ammi said having heavy meals at night is bad for the baby.." Darya loved biryani. It was her favourite food, the fact that everyone in the house probably even the maids had eaten it but not his pregnant wife made him sick. He knew she was hiding something from him. He just knew it, his mother would never be so kind with her words, but the question was why wasn't Darya saying the truth.

Picking up the tray filled with food, he walked up to her and started near her legs.
"Eat."

"No.. I am not hungry." Darya continued meeting his eyes as she nonchalantly flipped through the pages of her book.

"Why are you being this way? Look at yourself, you look so undernourished. Did something happen?" He questioned, worried and frightened the same.

"Nothing happened."

"Look at me, Darya!" His voice raised a few octaves high as he seeked her attention pulling the book away from her hands.

Her eyes rimmed red as she gazed at him with nothingness in them again. There was no love, no complaints, no recognition.

Zaryab then decided that he would take one step at a time, he would make her eat first after that the rest.

"Eat, Darya." He lifted the spook to her lips but she refused to open them, her eyes zoning onto his, pinning her with his gaze.
"If it's about Ammi not allowing you, then I don't give a damn about it. Eat."

"You told me, Ammi is the most important person in your life, Zaryab. Her wishes must be fulfilled." Darya retorted, but he took that as a chance to stuff the spoonful of rice in her mouth.

Wordlessly he continued feeding her. Her words piercing his heart more added to her appearance. It felt like a slap to his face, his own words were thrown back at him.

He fed her a couple more bites but she finally refused anymore after that. She simply lay down facing away from him. Her thin cotton salwar kameez worn out to stretch around the tiny barely visible bump.

Sighing he got up, discarding the tray full of unfinished food outside his room, before returning back. His eyes suddenly fell on her swollen feet, they were crimson and purple in some places with bruises.

What had she done to herself? Had he really been so blind? The woman he loved so desperately with his entire heart was suffering so much and refused to tell him why. It was his own doing he concluded.

___

guyss i am going to delete this chapter within a week, i just want to see how you like it, its on hold until i finish Azlan and Zyva's story to which i have decided to add a few more chapters before the epilogue. do let me know how it is!