❝Mujhe Maloom tha Mohsin Wo Mera Ho Nahi Sakta
Magr Phir Bhi Mujhe Dekho Mohabbat Ho gai Us Se❞

"Shehryar?"

The warmth of the hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the cold trance. He turned his head. Maulana Sahab. He was the same person who witnessed his destruction that night. It was uncanny that Maulana Sahab was here when for the first time since that day he entered the masjid. The hat still covered his hair, but the color of his hair and beard now harmonized with the chaste white of his hat. The sajdah marks decorated his forehead, a sign that Maulana had been praying unlike Shehryar himself who had not prostrated in the past ten years. Shehryar's stomach convulsed at the thought.

Woh wahi Maulana Sahab the jinhon ne Shehryar ko yahan bhikarte dekha. Woh Shehryar ko kabhie nahi bhoole. Shayad Shehryar ki awaz aaj bhi masjid ki deewaron se takrati huwi goonj rahi thi. Shehryar hamesha unki duaon mein tha. Maulana Sahib ne uski ankhon mein Allah ka yaqeen toot'te huwe dekha tha. Shayad apni aur Shehryar ki bebasi dekh kar woh sirf dua he kar sakte the. Aur shayad yeh kuch un duaon ka bhi asar tha ke aaj woh phir mil rahe the. Us din Shehryar apne bhikre huwe tukre chor gaya tha. Aur aaj woh unhi bhikre huwe tukron so samaitne aaya tha.

"Maulana Sahab?" Shehryar made a movement to stand up, but the Maulana Sahab patted his shoulder, taking the seat across from him.

Shehryar curled his toes on the almost iridescent marble. The coldness seeped into the pores of his feet, soothing his pain thread by thread. The mystical aura of peace whirled around like the soft breeze of the ocean on a sweltering summer night. The arches were high, unlike his morals, yet the dome was open for his acceptance.

"Bus dua thi ke tumhe ek dafa dekh loon. Kaise ho?" The priest carrying the noor of years' worth of prayers only asked to fulfill the formalities. The redness written in Shehryar's eyes, the sore tiredness in his limbs, the faded words on his bitter tongue told the tales of misery and sorrow.

"Pata nahi. Khud ko bohat peeche chor dia. Ab to yaad bhi nahi kaun hoon aur kaisa hoon. Bus sab kuch kho gaya hai. Koi wapsi ka rasta he nahi." He stared at his hands. The lines of his fate scattered on them. The line of his fatherhood drawn far too short as it faded just after 8 months. His baby was now 6 feet under, his tiny bones now turned into stardust again. So he didn't know how he was or who he was. He didn't know how to deal with the yearnings to hold Wajdan in his calloused hands.

"Raaste hamesha hote hai, bus hum dekh nahi paate. Humari nazrein dhundli par jaati hai. Dil ko saaf kar ke tum bus ek qadam to barhao Woh uper hai na. Woh tumhei rasta dekha de ga." Shehryar was envious of the calm and peace Maulana Saheb held in his wise old eyes as the eyelids dropped over them. Envious of the strong faith even when his finger trembled around the prayer beads.

"Mein ne to sab chor dia. Apne rastoun ko mor kar ek sehra ki tarf karliya. Jahan koi rasta he nahi sirf ruh ko jalaane wali rait hai. Na koi dua na koi yaqeen. Bus ajeeb kuch khalish hai dil mein."

Guilt. For the past ten years, it ate him. Slowly tearing him apart thread by thread, chewing on his peace, Guilt left him hollow. The hollowness he later tried filling with alcohol, burning his lungs with toxic fumes, finding his solace against another body, but the emptiness grew more, seeping into his bones. He was quenching his thirst with ocean water, an act leading it all to more damage. The faith once keeping him afloat wasn't there to sieve his deeds, driving the darkness to overflow the light.

"Agar dil mein yaqeen aur imaan na hota to khalish kabhie na hoti. Shaytan wahin aata hai jahan usko kuch tabah karne ko milta hai. Agar tumhare dil mein kuch na hota to tumhein khalish na hoti na. Tumhare dil mei kuch to hai jisko shaytan bheka raha hai aur tumhein uske khone se khalish ho rahi hai."

Was there anything left? Maybe. He wasn't too sure. Maybe a few grains left behind against the pores of his skin when everything slipped through his fingers. The splinters still pierced into his skin when his life fell apart. They torched his life brutally, leaving behind a pile of ash. What could be made out of ash?

"Kuch nahi hai. Ajeeb sa khalipan hai. Ek badle ki aag hai jisne mujhe raakh bana dia." His world burned and buried in those ashes. His faith, his love, his family, himself... Shehryar Ali wasn't made out of stardust. No, he was made from the flecks of ashes, carrying the fire to avenge and burn those who turned his essence grey.

"Wohi raakh aag par bhaari padh jaati hai." Shehryar heaved an inaudible gasp. "Jab log aag bhujate hai to aakhir mein us per raakh phenk dete hai. Aag sab raakh kardeti hai, lekin kabhie kabhie raakh aag par bhaari padh jaati hai. Ussi raakh se apne andar ke aag ko bhuja do." The erudite priest retained his smile, spilling his kindness while he rattled Shehryar's conscience with his extensive knowledge. "Agar kuch nahi hai to phir tum yahan kyun ho? Yahan to Allah aur uske kalam ke illawa kuch nahi hai."

Why am I here? Shehryar looked around, his eyes tracing each and every corner of the house of Allah. The rack as tall and as wide as it could be stood against the wall to hold the shoes, maybe even the egos as people removed it before they entered. The marble shaded with opalescent hues led to the side of the courtyard where a line of water fountains stood so people could wash their sins as they did their ablutions. The egos, status, and sins left in the edge of the court, the path followed to the hall where the niche was carved, urging them all to follow the one and only direction of qibla to Mecca. The muezzin lent its voice to the minaret as it reminded people of their lord. The dome veiled the sins, differences, grudges between people, bringing them together under one roof as brothers and sisters in Islam. The strokes of calligraphy carried the echoes of Lord's message that Shehryar had forgotten. The golden threads of the carpet carried many tears, whispered prayers, painful sighs, and shattered egos as they all prostrated in front of one God, testifying his oneness.

"Pata nahi. Kuch pata nahi. Bus jab yahan aaya to pehli baar itne saalon mein sukoon mila. Jaise pehli baar kisne jalte hui zakhmon pe paani dal diya hua." Shehryar curled his hand, grazing his fist on his chest to soothe the burning pain. Maybe that was the flame he needed to burn his ego as it melted into his eyes, escaping along with the scorching tears.

"Tumhe Allah apni taraf bula raha hai. Bohat he qismat wale log hote hai jinko Allah khud apni taraf kheench deta hai. Warna zindagi guzar jaati hai aur dil pe wohi pardah hota hai aur maafi tak ka mauqa nahi milta. Tumhe Allah ne khud apni taraf bulaya hai... is'se bara saboot aur kya ho sakta hai ke tumhare dil mein aaj bhi imaan hai." Maulana Sahab recited some verses of the message that was once engraved on the walls of Shehryar's heart. The rust masked it, seeping into the crevices of it, nonetheless, it was still carved on the walls of his heart. More tears spilled, scouring the rust.

"Kaise dhoondun mein woh yaqeen jab sirf badle ki aag ke illawa kuch dikhta nahi." Ten years. Revenge had weaved itself so intricately within those years of his life that he wasn't sure which thread to pull apart which to leave.

"To tum us aag ko bhuja do. Apne dil ko har cheez se khaali kardo aur Allah ke aage rakh do. Woh tumhara hafiz hai aur reham karne wala. Woh muhafiz hair tumhare dil ka. Woh sab dilon ke raaz aur dard se waqif hai. Insaan tor deta hai sab, chahe yaqeen ho, Imaan ho, ya bharosa. Uski zaat sab se mohabbat karne wali hai woh kabhi kuch apne mohabbat mein nahi tootne deta. Tum sab chordo uski zaar pe mohabbat ho ya badle ki aag. Woh tumhe insaaf dilaye ga. Uski adalat mein sab dikhta hai, woh bhi jo dil ke saath pardon ke peeche chupa ho. Tum uspe chor ke to dekho woh tumhe insaf ke raaste sab dekha de ga." Maulana Sahab asked him to trust his God without an ounce of doubt. Blind Faith. To leave it all on one above the all. Shehryar's face paled as the tremble crawled along his skin into his hands and lips.

"Kaisa chor doon. Jab maine yeh sab he chor dia tha. Ab wapsi ka rasta na mumkin sa lagta hai. Agar badla bhi chor dia to sirf khalipan he reh jaaye ga." Shehryar couldn't evade the revenge. Revenge was the only home he knew of. He couldn't lose it all again.

"Shehryar." Maulana sahib stood up as the darkness dusted the sky, bringing the signs of Isha with it. "Tumhari qismat mein jo likha hai woh tumhe milega. Agar woh kuch dair ke liye khalipan hai to woh bhi milega, tum chaho ya na chaho. Jo likha hota hai woh milta hai. Na hum bhaag sakte hai us'se na hum se koi cheen sakta hai. Us darr se apna yeh bulava mat thukrao." Maulana Sahab lightly patted his shoulder, one last act of kindness. "Aur jo itne saalon mein khoya hai woh ek din mein nahi milege chahe woh tumhara imaan he kyun na ho. Khud ko is bharam mein mat rakhna tum sirf ek he baar mein laut aao ge. Bus sirf yeh yaad rakhna ke ahista ahista sab tukre samaitne hai. Waqt lagega pr ek din sab simat jayega. Aur is safar mein Woh uper wala tumhare saath hai, jab tumhei lage ke tum akele ho, tab bhi Woh tumhare saath hai. Apna yeh waqt khudko aur Allah ko do aur us par bharosa rakho."

❧❧❧

Laila's world became a battleground. Her brain wagged war against her heart. Her gut drew sword but wavered between choosing the side. Asher stood on one side with a bouquet of blood roses in his hand, and Ali Sir stood on the other with the stuffed penguin hanging on his hand. The war started when Asher asked her out, formally, on a date. Laila's lips stayed pursed. She couldn't find a reason to say not to him. The words he spoke, laced with softness, the coffee color of his eyes reflected off the good and calm. Yet she couldn't form the word yes. Hence, she asked for more time.

There is nothing wrong with falling in love with him.

Inaaya's words swirled the doubt in those honey-brown eyes as Laila closed them, shying away from those thoughts. Those certain red-rimmed eyes haunted her with the echoes of betrayal. She snapped open her wide eyes. Those cognac eyes rimmed with redness didn't leave her alone. Not even when she was with Asher. She drew unconscious parallels as the heir of Aarat swooned her with dinners and flowers. Yet she searched for the differences each time. They were poles apart recklessness and chaos crashing against surety and calm. Asher Ejaz ever so perfectly fit the balance she always craved, yet she was drawn to those eyes always soaked in the redness of pain. She wasn't sure she was willing to let her carefully constructed morals bow in front of the unknown, but her heart shook also at the possibility of pushing away Ali Sir.

Have you seen your face when you talk about him?

Her toes curled in the rug with each step as she left the bed to face her reflection in the mirror. She took a long breath before glancing into the eyes of the women surrounded by contradictions. Laila blinked taking the brush in her hand. She pulled the tie, the hair cascaded over her shoulder.

Rapunzel.
You must be happy mummified into that 100ft fabric

She grazed the brush through the length of her hair. The color often made her question where her unknown lineage traced back to. Surpassing her own reflection, her gaze fell on the reflection of the duppatta hanging behind the door on the hook, but in her line of gaze, there was the bouquet of roses. Putting the brush down she touched the roses. The flowers carried the distant fragrance of his words.

Laila, I'd really like to take you out some time on an actual date. We have known each other for a couple of months, I really do like you.

The sensible and stable woman in her ticked the boxes every time Asher took her out, checking off the things on the list she carefully crafted for herself. She had crossed off things from the list such as love, emotions, pyaar, mohabbat, and Ishq. Asher completed that list because her emotions stayed on the sidelines never meddling in with respect and need. Yet, when she drew parallels her heart ripped that list into shreds, erasing checks, and getting emotions entangled. Laila despised chaos but somehow she had gotten stuck in the knots. Either way, she turned she had to risk something.

❧❧❧

"So..."

The car sailed through the midday traffic to reach Harnoi for their visit. Laila turned her body in the passenger seat. Ali Sir's concentration stayed focused on the way ahead with his hand curled around the steering wheel while he pushed his other hand through his hair. Laila's eyes hovered over the stray lock of hair fallen on his forehead. She folded her hands to keep them in her lap.

"This is the fourth time in the past twenty minutes and probably for 1000th time in the past month." Ali Sir pressed his lips together. He glanced at her for a second before focussing his gaze back on the road.

"Will you be going to their wedding?" Stubborn as a Mule. Well, Laila could give a mule run for its money. She arched her one eyebrow, tilting her head.

"Asking me for 100th time is not going to change my mind, Miss Lubna." He rolled his eyes, now loosening the tie. Muttering something under his breath, he pulled at the knot.

"He is your brother." Laila sighed, leaning back against the seat.

"I know he is my brother." Finally, pulling the tie, he threw it her face lightly. Laila's jaw fell open when he smirked, almost laughing under his breath. Seriously? She huffed.

"Matlab aur kitna bhao khana hai. 10 saal to ho gaye. Ab kya protocol ke dus gaadiyan aur red carpet chahiye?" Laila muttered, rolling the tie neatly, then placed it in the glove box.

"Haan. Mere office se leke Wedding hall tak chahiye. Rolls Royce please." He enjoyed pushing her buttons. Laila tightened her hands in her lap, barely stopping herself from slapping that half-smirk off his face.

"Haan barra koi Royal Prince aaya, hospital ki jaga castle he na bana doon." She narrowed her eyes, sneering at him.

"Dil mein jo mere thandak paregi na, the day I am going to fire that smartass mouth." He extended his arm and pulled the edge of her duppatta. She slapped his hand off, scowling at her.

"Don't touch it with your dirty hands." She bunched the flailing length of the duppata, hiding it behind herself. "Haan mein bhi dekhoon gi kon aap ki iss sadhi huwi personality ko jhailta hai. Jahilte jhailte koi Jail he na chala jaye aapka khoon kar ke."

"Aur kisi ka kya... tum ho na Zain Ali ki chamchi, yeh sab zindagi bhar karne ke liye." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Allah Tauba. Aese bhi maine konse gunnah kar diye jo itna badha azab sar pe toote ga." Laila touched her ear, shaking her head. Ali Sir gave her a quick look before turning back his gaze. He broke into a soft laugh.

"Tum duniya ki bohat he koi khaas makhlooq ho, Miss Lubna." He shook his head, but his lips stayed lifted with laughter. Laila's lip curled up a little as well but she didn't say anything, only if she could see the blush flushing through her face, she'd have hidden back in her turtle shell.

Laila leaned against forward on the railing. After visiting the site, they had taken the detour up the small cliff that looked over the city. The cit of Harnoi was at the foot of it. The plains of the city scrolled out to the far end. The disparities of a life cut the body of the city in two, separated by the train tracks. The south of the city stood tall with highrise, gated communities, and cars that cost almost a kidney of the person living on the Northside. The Northside of the town carried bare bones of life, struggling all day only too put two bites of food on the table. At the far edge along the highway was the ground with construction materials thrown in it. The ground for the hospital. The ground to give a little hope to the northside.

Securing the midnight-green duppata around her shoulders against the wind, she turned her head slightly. He hung the suit-jacket over his left arm, leaving behind the creased white dress shirt, his gaze lost in the city where his past was buried. The echoes of funeral still rumbled through the city because he never got closure... he never got to unwrap the little hands wrapped around his fingers. He never got to throw the bits of soil and pray for his son. He never got to say goodbye.

"What is it?" Laila whispered above the light gust of wind that played with the tresses of his hair.

He extended his arm, holding his hand out for her. She stared at it for a second then placed her hand in his. He climbed on the stones walking up the small altitude carefully holding her hand. She took each step with caution because her chances of slipping were high with those ballet flats. After passing a few stones, he found the stone suitable for them to sit. He glanced at her, shaking his head as she scrunched her nose, confused at what he was doing. He let go of her hand and threw his jacket on one of the small stones knowing her freaky clean personality before sitting down on the adjacent one. She still stared at him, hesitant to ruin his jacket, but he patted the spot and she had no other choice but to sit.

"What's bothering you?" She forgot all about the view. Her attention solely stayed on those lost eyes that were a shade lighter than usual color of liquid onyx.

"I'm not sure." He put elbows on his knees, pushing his hands through the windswept hair

"About what?"

"About this project and contract anymore." He leaned back a little, looking in her eyes. Chaos weaved an inner turmoil in them, revenge fell into pieces.

"Why?" Something changed, she could not place her finger on anything, but there was a shift in the way he looked at the project.

"The revenge in me. It is not the right reason to do this." He gestured at the view of the ground getting ready to hold the foundations of the hospital. "I'm not doing it for the people of Harnoi. This is a betrayal to them. Once my revenge is taken. I will stop caring for this hospital and it will meet the fate of all the other ones in low-income areas. A sorry excuse for a hospital laced with humiliating services." Something else stopped right at the tip of his tongue. He stopped himself short of spilling all about his constant meetings with the Maulana for the past month. For some reason, he stayed quiet.

"Then you find another reason for it and this time it should be for the right reason. Your revenge only has one reason behind it, but if you choose a good reason for it, you will find a thousand." She moved her gaze, staring at the city in need of a hero. "Do it for the people. For your own peace. For someone in desperate need of care. For the people of Harnoi who will find a respectable job be it a doctor or a nurse or a technician or a janitor. Find your one reason in the thousands you have."

Another waft of breeze swung by, freeing the stray wisp from her ponytail. She shook her head to move it from her face, but the stubborn lock kept coming back. Laila blinked when he raised his hand to push it away from her face. With the feathery touch, he tucked the strand behind her ear.

"I'm not sure about the last 10 years my life anymore, Laila. I'm not sure about anything. It's as if the ground under my feet is shaking." He whispered, putting the hand back on the stone next to him. Laila for a second there couldn't move at his oblivious act. Her eyes flitted between his hand and his face, he was still lost in his thoughts. "Laila?" He tilted his head.

"Oh," She murmured, composing herself before she spoke again. "Maybe it's for the betterment of your life. Maybe it's time for you to start over. A fresh look at this. Maybe my Allah is giving you a sign." She curled her lips a little, teasing him because he always said 'your God'. "Maybe there is a reason that you are so unsure. Shayad yeh qismat ka ek naya imtehan hai." She shrugged her shoulders lightly.

Jo tumhari qismat mein hai woh tumhein milega tum chaho ya na chaho.

Aur jo tumhara nahi woh tumhe chaah kar bhi nahi mil sakta.

Na jaane kyun usko Maulana sahab ki baat yaad ayi jab usne Laila ki taraf dekha. Laila to uski nahi thi aur na he woh usko maang sakta tha. Jo bhi cheez usne maangi thi woh us'se cheen li gayi thi. Woh chah kar bhi Laila ko nahi maang sakta tha. Uski kabhi yeh auqat ho he nahi sakti thi ke woh Laila ko maange. Rapunzel ka haq sirf khushiyon per tha aur agar kisi cheeze ki koi Kami thi agar uski zindagi mein to woh ek thi khushi. Lekin phir bhi ajeeb sa khauf tha dil mein usko khone ka.

"Shayad." His stare stayed fixed on her when she watched Harnoi again.

"Kaisa ajeeb sa sach hai. Railway tracks ke iss paar log 2 waqt ki roti ke liye din bhar maare maare phirte hai aur uss par sab ke pass itna hai ke zindagi bhar dete rahe to bhi nahi kam par jayega." She sighed, witnessing the bitter realities of life. "Kabhie kabhie sochti hoon agar mein St. Mary's pe na chori gayi hoti to mein kahan hoti. Zindagi ke kiss pehlu se lar rahi hoti. Meri qismat tracks ke kis paar likhi hui hoti." Since the day he met her, it was the first time she wondered about the reality of her childhood in front of him.

"Ek baat pouchun tumhari family ke baare mein?" He needed the permission in case he accidentally grazed against an old wound.

"Jee?" She flinched just a little before nodding.

"Apni family ke baare mein sochti ho? Ya dhoondne ki koshish ki hai." He spoke them with softness, cautious of the impact of his words.

"Nahi." Laila tightened the duppatta around her, not sure whether she was protecting herself against the wind or the labyrinth of her past.

"Kyun?"

"Agar meine socha to shayad mein us daldal se wapis nahi aa paoun gi." She curled her arms around her, protecting and hugging herself against the thoughts. "Sochne ki had nahi hoti. Agar meine yeh socha ke woh kon hai ya kahan hai, to phir mere ander sirf yahi sawal reh jayenge ke unhon ne mujhe kyun phenka. Kaise koi apne khoon ko aesay kachre ke dhair pe chor jaata hai. Meri Maa thi ya mera baap jisne mujhe aese beysahara chor dia. Yeh tak bhi nahi socha ke mein us raat wahan mar bhi sakti thi ya to phir shayad unhon ne mujhe wahan marne ke liye chor dia. Bohat se sawal hai jo shayad mujhe apne aap se sawal karne pe majboor kar denge. Un sawalon ka koi jawab nahi aur jin sawalon ke jawab nahi hote unke liye hum khudko qusoorwaar samajhte hai. Yeh sawal mujhe khudse nafrat karne par majboor kardenge halanke mei jaanti hoon in sab mei mera koi qusoor nahi. Nahi karsakti mein khudse koi bhi sawal aesa." Laila closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in the throat. Opening her eyes again she stared at her feet when she continued her gentle whispers. "Aaj tak mein bohat lari hoon zindagi se. Bohat dafa marte marte bachi hoon. Jab log apne bachpan mein khilone ya school ki kisi cheez ke liye rote the tab mein bheek maang rahi thi. Itna lar kar aur mehnat kar ke mein aaj yahan hoon, khud se nafrat nahi kar sakti. Khud ko bohat mushkil se poora kia hai, phir se adhoura nahi karsakti Is liye sochna chor dia."

"Tum kabhi adhouri nahi hosakti, Rapunzel. Tumhein tumhare Rab ne mukamal banaya hai. Tum jahan bhi jaati ho apne saath ek ajeeb si roshni aur sukoon le ke jaati ho. To tum kaise kabhi adhuri ho sakti ho. Roshni aur sukoon kabhi adhoore nahi hote."

Uske alfaz khamoshi mein dhal gaye jaise din shaam mein dhal raha tha. Magar woh khamoshi shayad bohat kuch keh gayi jo alfaz kabhie na keh paate. Us khamoshi mein bharosa tha jo dono ne aajtak kabhie itni shiddat se kisi pe nahi kia tha. Us khamoshi mein woh izzat thi jo woh Laila ne apne liye bohat kam dekhi thi, woh izzat jo Laila ko sirf apne wujood ki waja se mili thi.

"Inaaya said I should go for an MBA?" Laila pierced the silence between them, tracing the threads of the jacket she was sitting on. He was still in awe. He was yet to hear the entire tale of her childhood because she seldomly talked about her past. He had few pieces of her past, but the courage in those few pieces she had was fascinating.

"Crazy Doctor can give a piece of good advice?" He raised his eyebrows cutting the tension. Laila threw him a dirty glance. He raised his hands, smiling at her. "Okay sorry."

"What do you think?" She peered at him through those mascara lad lashes, a rare act of nervousness. She valued his opinion.

"What do I think?" He raised his eyebrows. She bit her lip, nodding at him. "Are you fishing for compliments, Miss Lubna?" She huffed, turning her face away."Okay, Listen," The pride on his lips stretched with his smile when she glanced back at him. "You should go for it. You are made for this world. I'm greedy that's why I haven't let you ventured over to another department. At this point, I can't function without you. But I can't keep you with me forever, can I?"

Laila's breath hitched when their eyes met. He was breathless as well when he said those words, stealing away his gaze from her because the idea of letting go wasn't sitting well with either of them.

"But that'd be cruel of me to keep you as my assistant when I know you are made for more. We have so many departments within the company. Look into them and see what you'd like to pursue further. No matter what happens from here on. There will always be space for you at Wajdan Enterprise not because you are my favorite assistant ever." She rolled her eyes, he let out a soft laugh then resumed. "But because of your abilities and your hard work. You earned to be here and we'll be honored to have you as an assistant or whatever else path you chose. You will always have space at the table because you deserve to sit there and you have worked hard enough to be there." Those words were earnest and it renewed Laila's faith in the decision.

"Thank you." The edges of her eyes cinched when the bright smile appeared on her lips. "I have looked into some programs just you know out of curiosity." It'd be another battle to fight the system with her name requirements, but she was ready.

"Wait until the end of the month. There is something I have kept an eye on. I think it will be good for you." He didn't spill the beans about what he had done because he didn't want to give her false hope. The system was screwed and he could only hope for a positive answer regarding his emails.

End of the month.
He'd have never said if he knew the end of the month would come bearing another storm that'd wreck the definition of love for them, changing the maps of their lives.

❧❧❧

"End of the month Inaaya ki date teh ho gayi. Shaadi hai." Laila hummed with her eyes closed in bliss. She rarely got time for the hair oil session with Malka. Even this time Malka dragged her out of her room on Saturday because apparently Laila's hair were dying.

"Mashallah. Allah khush rakhe dono ko. Chalo woh Nanha Farishta ek beti ke liye nahi to dusri ke liye sahi." Malka massaged the oil through Laila's hair, reminiscing about how she had almost dreamed about Laila and Zain's wedding. Laila shuddered at the thought. "Dekho usne aise ladka dhoonda aur waise shaadi ki. Ab tumhare kya irrade hai?" Malka smacked her on top of her head.

"Owww. Maar kyun rahi hai." Laila replied as dramatically, crossing her arms. "Nahi jaane wali mein tumhei kahin chor kar."

"Laila." Malka's hands slowed in her hair. She took a long breath before opening that cane of worms. Laila always reacted severely to it so they rarely, if ever, talked about her issues with relationships and abandonment. "Baat meri nahi hai. Baat tumhari zindagi ki hai. Agar mein chor kar chali gayi tumhei kal to." When Malka had picked up Laila from the traffic light, it took Laila a long time just to stop flinching at simple movements. Malka sat quite a few feet away from her just for Laila to nodded in return. Another few hours before the little girl with matted hair let Malka touch the wound on her forehead. Weeks stretched between them before Laila trusted Malka enough to talk to her.

"Dekho-" Laila pried Malka's hand from her hair, ready to flee from there.

"Aaram se baitho aur meri baat suno." Malka pushed her down on the rug again, making her sit in her place. "Meri kitni zindagi likhi hai mein nahi jaanti. Koi nahi jaanta siwaye Allah ke. Magar mein iss umeed pe bhi to nahi baith sakti na ke mein umer bhar tumhare saath rahoon gi. Dekho, Inaaya bhi chali jaye gi apne ghar. Woh jo roz roz yahan aake tumhe sambhalti hai jab tumhei zaroorat hoti hai aur mahino yahan rehti hai. Shaadi ke baad wesa nahi hoga. Uski ek apni zindagi hogi. Kal ko shayad uske bache ho. Woh aise tumhare saath mahina bhar to nahi reh paye gi agar mujhe kuch ho gaya." The fear ate Malka from inside. Malka couldn't leave her alone with blind trust on life. Laila was volatile emotionally when she dealt with loss. She wasn't the person who could spend life alone.

"Mein akele reh sakti hoon." Laila clenched her teeth. Her breathing became heavy. She refused to acknowledge those thoughts.

"Mujhe pata hai. Hum sab ko pata hai. Agar koi akele reh sakta hai to woh tum ho. Tum mein woh himmat hai ke tum khud ke liye sab kar sakti ho. Baat zindagi kaatne ki nahi hai. Baat hai zindagi guzaarne ki. Baat hai iss zindagi mein kisi ke saath ke jab hum akele par jaate hai. Jab hum toot kar bhikar jaate hai aur hum mein himmat nahi hoti to baat hai us waqt kisi ke saath hone ki. Zindagi agar kaatni hoti hai to woh kat jaati hai pr bohat mushkil se. Agar koi saath dene wala ho to yeh safar aasan hota hai. Meri zindagi mein kuch nahi tha. Shayad mein usse bus sirf kaat rahi thi, pr Allah ne tumhei meri zindagi mein laya. Bus ek ajeeb sa sukoon diya Allahne, ke jaise koi maqsad mil gaya ho. Tum thi mere pas aur kabhie Inaaya aajati thi, to meine apni zindagi jee li tum dono ki khushiyon mein. Isliye mein chahti hoon ke koi to ho tumhari zindagi mein jo tumhein sambhal sake, tumhare saath yeh zindagi ka safar tumhara haath thaam kar chale."

Malka raked her hand through the length of Laila's hair, soothing her anxious nerves. Malka kissed the top of her head.

"Jeena seekho. Ab sab Allah ne tumhei de diya aur tumne woh sab apni mehnat se kamaya hai. Ab yeh zid aur khauf chor do. Thora sa apne liye jee lo in sab zimdariyon aur khauf se azad ho kar. Apne liye khushiyan chuno. Tumhara bhi in sab pr haq." Long ago Laila drew a circle around her when she had to make a family tree in school. She didn't know how she belonged to Malka or Inaaya, so she drew a circle around her stick figure. In her circle, only Malka and Inaaya existed for a long time, but as she grew up she added a house she wanted and a respectable job. Eventually, she started building walls around that circle, caging herself in those walls, never leaving a space for someone to enter.

Malka wrapped her arms around Laila, shielding her in a hug. The tears slipped from Laila's eyes because Malka was right, someday Laila would be left alone in that circle. In that circle all her life she had barely given herself the room to breathe, not expecting anything from life... not even a little bit of pure happiness.

"Khud pe yaqeen karo aur darna chor do. Apni khushi chun'na tumhara haq hai. Chahe woh jo bhi ho. Lekhin himmat to karo. Zaroori nahi woh koi rishta ho magar jo bhi hai apne aap ko mauka to do."

Laila put her head on Malka's shoulder. The tears escaped eyes, soaking into Malka's duppatta. Laila nodded, it was time for her to crumble those walls and extend her circle.

Laila stared at her phone, hunching in her chair. Twenty minutes passed by since the text flashed across her phone screen. Something fluttered and twisted in her stomach. The more she delayed the answer the more her nerves tingled on her skin. She curled her hand, then stretched her fingers again as she looked at the screen of her phone again. Her lunch was ending soon, she had yet to reply to him.

Asher Ejaz
Dinner tonight?

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She never did like contradictions, everything needed to clean, clear, and precise. The "stability" she always craved flashed in front of her, all it asked for was a chance. The struggles lessened in her life and now she had ample time to get to know someone, but her gut was pointing at someone else. Someone else who swung like a pendulum between pushing and pulling her. Someone who was shaky and skirting on the edges of unknown himself. Laila could crumble walls, but she still wasn't willing to risk it all. She never was a person of impulse so she went against her impulse and chose calm and steady.

Laila
Ok.

"I went through the contract with the lawyer couple of times just to make sure we don't run into problems in the future. I think we are set for the groundbreaking." He slid the report across the table to her. She took a look at the main points, nodding. They needed protection in case an unexpected blow came from Saeed Regional, which was to come. They just didn't know when. "They will try until the day of the opening of this hospital. I can only hope to have enough defense by then against them."

"I'll contact the construction contractors. We'll have everything ready as soon as possible. I will also make sure each contract is thoroughly vetted." Laila noted, glancing at her watch between her writing. 6 pm at Limestone. She had another hour. "Is it all for today?" For some reason, her words wavered. She could barely make full eye contact with him. You don't owe him anything. But each explanation to herself was useless and the flutters were making her nauseous.

"What? tired of seeing my handsome face?" He curled that stubble framed lips in a smirk. Laila rolled her eyes, shaking her head with that barely-there smile. This man and his ego.

"No... I just." She sighed, moving her hand in the air. Nothing came up her throat. The tip of her tongue only battled with dryness as she swallowed. Her stomach convulsed at the thought of spitting out the truth when she glanced at the watch.

"You got a date, Miss Lubna?" He wiggled his eyebrows. Leaning forward, the smirk turned in to a teasing smile. His eyes glinting with mirth.

Uh Oh.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. She opened her mouth but she couldn't form a word. He smelled the bitter silence. His eyes widened slightly and the smile faded from those frozen lips. He waited but she didn't say anything. She couldn't say anything. The muscles of his face stiffened with each second and the stubble covered jaw clenched. The silence between them became deafening and palpable with each passing second. Her phone vibrated in her lap, screen lightening with his name. She looked down, breaking away the contact.

"I... I uh need to go."

She refused to look back at him, but when nothing came in reply, she raised her gaze, staring back into those darkened eyes. Nothing. She waited there, unable to stand up, letting the minutes passed. He didn't say anything except to stare at her with those faded red eyes. Why are you waiting, Laila? She asked herself the question she couldn't answer unless he said something, but he didn't even utter a word. Disappointment flushed through her skin when she stood up to leave, yet there was a lag in her steps. Nothing. Finally, she crossed the threshold his office, leaving behind the floral scene that only brought sorrow to the man caged in there.

What the hell was I expecting? For him to wrap his hand around her wrist and ask her to not let go? Throwing the papers on her desk, she didn't even care if they scattered across. She scoffed herself, picking up her bag. You can't just leave like this Laila. Her heart taunted her. She glimpsed at her planner. She turned on her heels walking back into the office.

He had pushed his hands through his hair, his head bent forward staring at the journal. He merely tilted his head to see who trespassed into his office again. Her hands curled around the handle so much that her knuckles turned white. Without a blink or nod, he stared at her.

"I forgot my journal." Her voice held so much but he couldn't hear anything beyond the wall he created between them.

They both knew she didn't need that journal, yet she took her time getting to the desk and picking up the journal with gradual movement. Each second she granted him, he wasted. The clock ticked and the silence stretched. Laila's heart broke each thread of hope. The wait only strengthen her yes to the dinner.

"Good Night."

Only silence echoed in return. Rapunzel turned around and left, leaving him in the harrowing silence.

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Thank you to each and every one of you for voting and commenting. I swear I read each one of them and they are fun to read. I just don't know what to say in return lmaooo. But thank you for all this love. I love you all <3