Umaira looked at herself from all angles, twisting her body little. She is impressed.

'Perfect. I am impressed. How did you manage this? From where did you learn this?' she asked happily. Mehran patted his shoulder, his chest rising with pride at her compliment.

'Siham! She is a duffer when it comes to traditional wear. I used to help her with sarees for her photoshoot. Idiot girl.' Mehran said absentmindedly. He chuckled recollecting how much Siham used to struggle to wear a simple saree. No make-up man could handle her and so Mehran learned, thanks to the great YouTube and over the years mastered the art of Draping sarees.

Umaira's smile faded as he said so. In her mind, she imagined him draping saree for Siham and them sharing probable intimate moment and her heart sank, she felt miserable.

'I...It's getting late....' Umaira said. Mehran wanted to say something but she didn't bother, she walked away. Mehran is confused. He shook his head and hurried to the door, as he stepped out he saw Umaira walk into the elevator. He called her name, she didn't turn. He hurriedly rushed to the elevator but the door closed. From the slight gap as the door closed, Mehran saw tears glistening in her eyes and his heart stopped for a second. Mehran hurriedly climbed the stairs from the sixth floor but by the time he reached the ground floor, Umaira had already disappeared into the crowd in the venue. Mehran spent few futile minutes searching for a bottle green saree clad woman walking funnily but he couldn't, Amreen had found him and dragged him to where the function was. Mehran was disappointed as he walked with his sister towards the stage.

'No Ma, I don't want to apply Mehendi. I don't like the smell.' Umaira whined as her mother forced her to apply Mehendi as well. Huma is already seated with many girls around her, everyone assigned a professional who are applying Mehendi to their palms. Umaira had stopped applying Mehendi five years ago as the memories attached to it are bad, very bad. Every time she looks at Mehendi clad hands that fateful night outside the court comes flashing before her eyes, haunting her. Huma watched Umaira's expressions carefully.

'As kids, you used to love Mehendi especially the smell.' Huma pointed out as Umaira sat beside her, she couldn't have her way and is being forced to apply Mehendi.

'We aren't kids anymore, Huma.' Umaira said sadly. Huma nodded thoughtfully.

'We aren't teen either.' Huma said and Umaira turned her head to look at her, a confused look on her face. Huma simply smiled

'You haven't moved on from the past, have you? If you have you shouldn't have been bothered with the memories.' Huma clarified.

'It is nothing like that. I have moved on. I am happy with my life with Ibrahim. Everything is perfect.' Umaira said looking away.

'Yet he is there.' Huma said. Umaira looked at her with a frown.

'No, he isn't.' She lied.

Truth be told, Umaira had thought of Mehran many times but after meeting Ibrahim and supposedly falling in love with him Umaira hardly thought of Mehran, but many times with many dejavu events in her life he kept popping up. Thinking about it, Umaira realized that even though her life was perfect with no scars- Yet he is there