Atifa's pov :

Sitting on the couch of our living room, I drank water in three sips, following the sunnah of our beloved prophet Muhammad SAW. Leaning my head back on the couch, I closed my eyes, trying to recall the memories of my dream.

The sound of the click of the door made me knit my brows. As far as I remembered, ammi was supposed to be coming back after Magrib. And Amira didn't have keys to come in without a doorbell. Who could it be?

My eyes snapped open as I jumped up at the realisation that someone just entered our house. Someone who wasn't ammi or Amira. Fear gripped my heart as I squeezed my eyes shut, scolding myself for being so irresponsible.

My back was turned to the door as I tried to find something to attack the intruder with. Not getting anything else around me, I hastily grabbed a cushion from beside me. At least I could choke him with this. Clutching the pillow tightly in my hands, I was ready to turn around and attack the intruder.

"Oh you are up alhamdulillah!" Wait. Wasn't this his voice? He was actually here? What was he even doing here? Wasn't he there in Suva?

I squeezed my eyes shut as realisation dawned on me. No way! Wait a minute... that wasn't actually my dream? Oh my God! This was so embarrassing. Ya Allah why did this always happen with me?! Why do I always have to do something like this? Why hadn't I gone to Bermuda triangle yet, again? Could anyone tell me?

Coming in front of me, he raised a brow at the cushion which I was clutching in my hands. Smiling sheepishly at him, I immediately dropped it beside me on the couch before looking away, embarrassed at my weird actions. What even happened to me?

"How... did you come in here?" With knitted eyebrows, I asked him, thousands of questions encircling my mind.

"Oh, I got your keys with me." He replied, dangling our house keys in front of me, a sheepish smile on his face.

"How? And why?" I inquired, glancing at him.

"I will tell you everything baad me aaram se, but for now, let's have our lunch." Keeping a paper bag on our coffee table, he gently grabbed my arm, guiding me to sit on the couch.

(I will tell you everything later in detail, but for now, let's have our lunch.)

"But I don't feel like eating anything." I told him, already scrunching my nose at the thought of upcoming nausea.

"And why is that so?" Sitting beside me, he grabbed the paper bag before taking out two containers from it.

"Because I will start feeling nauseous if I eat anything. So mujhe chodiye, aap apna khana kahiye." I replied with a sweet smile before getting up from the couch.

(So leave me, have your food.)

"Oh hello madam! You aren't going anywhere. You will eat with me. I don't care about whatever you feel. If you feel like throwing up, you can throw up after having lunch, I won't say anything. Ye jo tum behosh hui thi na, ye kamzori ki wajah se hui thi. To mere saamne koi bahana banane ki zarurat nahi hai. Sidhe se aake baitho aur ye soup piyo. Mama ne banaya hai." Pulling me back to sit next to him, he scolded me, making me look at him in shock, my mouth agape. How could he even...?

(You fainted because of your weakness. So no need to make any excuse in front of me. Come, sit here and have this soup. Mom made it.)

Narrowing my eyes at him, I folded my arms. How could he even scold me like that? How dare he do that! "Mujhe kuch nahi khana. And how dare you scold me like that?" I said, my voice fierce.

(I don't want to watch anything.)

"You don't want me to scold you more, haina? Agar nahi chahti to chup chaap baith ke ye piyo." He handed me a bowl, his gaze stern as he glared at me, daring me to go against him.

(You don't want me to scold you more, right? If not then keep quiet and have this.)

Huffing, I looked away from him as I grabbed a spoon, urging myself to take a few spoonfuls so that he doesn't scold me more. "Khadoos!" I muttered under my breath as I saw him cover his mouth with his hand, turning away from me.

(Rude!)

._._._.

"Even I have lots of questions for you, just so you know." He informed me while taking out his mobile from his jeans pocket and sitting in front of me on the bed. One of his legs was folded under him while the other dangled from the bed.

"Accha, but first you will answer me." I said, bringing my pillow closer to my chest.

(Okay)

"But that won't be fair now, haina?" Pocketing his mobile back, he raised a brow. His attention now turned to me.

(Right?)

"Life isn't fair." I stuck my tongue out at him teasingly.

"But I'm fair." He replied smugly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" With furrowed eyebrows, I asked him, confused.

"I mean, we will be playing twenty questions." A smirk adorned his face as he replied while looking at me.

"No way! I'm not doing that!" Shaking my head, I denied, totally against his idea. Terrified because I was sure that even I didn't know the answers to his upcoming questions.

"Yes way! That's exactly what's going to happen." Getting comfortable on the bed, he replied.

"But I don't want to do that." Pouting, I tried to protest for one last time, not knowing what reason to give or how to convince him.

"Not my problem. You didn't want to eat either." He shrugged. "Accha chalo, I will go first. So my first question is, what have you done to yourself? Kya hua?" He added, eyeing me with concern in his hazel eyes.

(Okay let's start, I will go first. So my first question is, what have you done to yourself? What happened?)

"You worry too much for no reason. I just have light fever and since I was feeling homesick, I had nausea." Looking away, I replied quietly while playing with my ring.

"Oh, are you sure it was just that? Kuch aur to masla nahi haina? And by the way, your fever wasn't just any 'light fever', you fainted because of that." He replied fiercely, quoting the words light fever with his finger.

(There is nothing else, right?)

"Yeah I'm sure about that. And I will be fine in a few days. Now it's my turn, let me ask you something." Replying quickly, I sat up straight, racking my brain for a good question. "When did you come here, in Savusavu?" Deciding to go with the safe one, I asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Two days back? A day after you guys left." He replied coldly, his jaw clenched as he looked away.

"What? But-"

"Now it's my turn, so when did you come here?" Interrupting me, he inquired with a raised brow, his gaze intense.

"The night we left? I mean... We left directly for the airport and landed here in the morning..." I trailed off, my gaze drifting away from him, not knowing what else to say. He seemed to be in deep thoughts as he nodded his head. "Umm... How are you? And how is Alayna? Is she alright?" Flustered by his intense gaze, I stumbled over my words, successfully losing this chance of asking him any other question.

"We are both fine alhamdulillah. At least in a better state than how you guys left us." He replied without missing a beat. His words seemed to stab my heart as I dared my gaze to flicker in his direction.

'He doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know it was ammi's plan, not mine. It's okay. Don't take his words to your heart.' Trying to calm my raging thoughts and the hurt from being shown on my face, I took a few deep breaths. Smiling slightly, I added. "Alhamdulillah."

"Tell me, was this your plan all along? To get married to me and then to leave me all of a sudden?" He questioned, his gaze fierce and his jaw clenched as he stared at me with anger radiating off of him.

My gaze snapped in his direction when I heard him, tears gathering in them. How could he even think like that? Did he really think that we would do that? Or that we were that kind of people who do things like that? Clenching my fists and controlling my anger with my tears, I spoke. "No. Do you-"

"So are you happy here? In this new place? In this new house of yours?" Interrupting me, he questioned, his hands gesturing around to the house.

"No. Now listen-"

"I see. You aren't happy here, yet you guys are still living here peacefully, snatching MY peace away from me, right? So whose idea was it, huh? Whose plan was this whole thing, hmm?" Interrupting me once again, he questioned, his gaze cold, burning with rage as he glared at me. His face was now closer to mine, not exactly invading my personal space, but he had moved from his place, making me push myself back on the wall, afraid of his anger and what he might do.

"Are you even going to listen to me? This isn't playing twenty questions anymore, only you are firing your questions at me, not even listening to what I have to say!" Pushing myself away from the wall, I shot back, my voice loud as few tears rolled down my face.

He seemed to come out of his daze, or wherever he was lost before as he blinked his eyes before looking away and leaning back. Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he stood up from the bed. Running his hand through his hair, he started pacing around the room, maybe trying to calm himself down.

Looking away from him, I brought my knees closer to my chest, hugging myself. My pillow now caged between my knees and chest as I tried to curb my tears and calm my racing thoughts. Hiding my face in my arms, I let my tears roll down freely.

I could have never imagined him shouting at me like that, or asking me questions like that. And blaming me for something was out of the question! But here we were, him trying to calm himself down before he lashes out on me for something which I hadn't even done. At least I was not as much involved as he might think.

But how could he even think like that? How could he think that I could do something like that? Did he not trust me enough? Or did he not know me enough? Oh who was I even kidding?! We weren't even married properly for three days and this happened. Obviously he wouldn't know me that well or trust me that much.

I didn't even know which dreamland of mine I was living in. 'Life isn't a fairytale. Things don't always go as smoothly as they seem to be going on. Don't trust the onscreen so much that you forget that actual things usually happen off screen. There might be misunderstandings and problems in every relationship. But if there are problems, then there must be solutions too. Communication and trust is the key to any relationship.' I tried to remind myself.

And now, we had to communicate and try to clear out our misunderstanding. But here's the thing! I didn't even know what to tell him. I couldn't just tell him that it was all ammi's plan, that I didn't even know what her plan actually was or what's going on in her mind. Because I didn't know if he would actually believe me or not.

"Accha I'm going to pray now. We will talk once I'm back, In Sha Allah." It was after a while when he actually broke the silence covering us like a blanket. Peeking up from my arm, I saw him glancing at his watch with a frown. Nodding my head, I went back to hiding my face in my arm.

(Okay)

"At least dawa to kha lo." Sighing, he added. I could feel the bed dipping a bit, indicating that he sat beside me. Looking up from my arm, I scowled at the strip of paracetamol extended towards me.

(At least have your medicines.)

"No thank you, mai aise hi theek ho jaungi." I replied, shaking my head, already feeling the upcoming headache which was due to crying this time.

(No thank you, I will be fine.)

"Tumhe har baat par zidd karna zaruri hai kya?" Frowning at me, he grabbed my hand before placing a pill on my palm. Extending a glass of water to me, he urged me to have it.

(Is it necessary for you to be stubborn in every matter?)

"Jaise ke aap to zidd hi nahi karte, haina?" Muttering under my breath angrily, I grabbed the glass from him, all the while glaring daggers at him through my lashes.

(As if you aren't stubborn at all, right?)

._._._.

Ya Allah, why me? Why did I have to get stuck with him, his questions and his intense gaze?

"Ab bataogi bhi ke nahi?" His question brought me out of my thoughts as I glanced at him before gulping.

(Now are you even going to tell me or not?)

"I can't..." I trailed off, trying to avoid his question and his gaze. Maybe he would give up if I didn't answer him.

"Why?" Raising a brow, he asked me.

"I- I don't know. Just let it be please." Getting up from the bed, I made my way towards the door, wanting to get out of here and away from him and his questions.

"What do you mean by let it be? Do I not have any right to know what's actually going on when my life is involved too?" Before I could get out of the room, he pulled me back, trapping me between the wall and himself. His gaze furious as he glared at me.

"No... that's not what I mean..." I tried to explain but what could I even say? I was out of words myself.

"Then what do you mean, huh? You seriously confuse me. Pehle to ye kehti ho ke listen to me. Phir kehti ho I can't tell you anything. Ek kaam karo na, pehle soch lo ke batana hai ke nahi, phir jo bolna hai mujhe bolna. Theek hai?" Punching the wall beside me in anger, he bellowed. I squeezed my eyes shut at the impact, afraid of his next move as a treacherous tear rolled down my face.

(First you say that listen to me. Then you say that you can't tell me anything. Do one thing, first decide if you want to tell me or not, then you can let me know. Okay?)

"Why don't you understand? Why do you want to know everything? Why do you want to get involved in this?" I replied meekly, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

"Why do I want to get involved?" He laughed sarcastically before looking at me, dead in the eyes. The green colour of his hazel eyes more prominent. "I didn't want to get involved. But your mom, involved me. So don't ask me why am I getting involved now!" He muttered angrily, his voice so cold that it sent shivers down my spine. "But it's alright if you don't want to answer me. I will confront your mom directly." Clenching his jaw, he added.

"NO! No please don't ask her. Don't meet her or create any scene please." Grabbing his arm, I told him desperately, my eyes pleading with unshed tears just at the thought of what might happen if they come face to face.

"I. Am not creating any scene. You guys created a scene and didn't even care to explain." He uttered, removing my hand from his arm.

"Why are you so stubborn? Just why?" I muttered, breaking down as I slid down the wall, feeling completely helpless.

I didn't want him to start disliking ammi. I didn't want to confess that it wasn't our plan, but solely ammi's plan. I didn't want to tell him that things were getting worse between us again. I just didn't want to let him know any of this because even though she might have hurt him, hurt us, done things we were unable to understand, she was still my mom. I wouldn't be able to handle it if he said something, anything, against her.

I could see him sitting down in front of me, a soft and gentle look taking over his face now, guilt clear in his hazel orbs. "Why are you doing this to yourself? At least don't hurt yourself because of me, or anyone for that fact." Cupping my cheeks, he murmured slowly while wiping my tears away with his thumb.

"Then please, don't ask me these questions. I don't have any answers for them. I- I don't know anything myself. I'm as clueless as you are. I'm as clueless as you are..." Leaning my head on his shoulder with tears still streaming down my face, I muttered quietly, hoping that he would finally let go of that topic.

"I can't promise you anything. But I will try. Just don't do this to yourself please." Running his hand through my hair, he whispered in a broken voice.

"Thank you." I muttered gratefully while closing my eyes as a relieved sigh escaped my lips. "Just... don't hate ammi please." I mumbled, taking my head off his shoulder and staring into his glassy hazel orbs.

Releasing a shaky breath, he let his hands fall from my side as he stood up while looking away. Quickly standing up, I tried to search his face, anxiously waiting for his response. "Okay." He breathed out, just as his hazel orbs clashed with my chocolate ones.

A grateful smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I wiped the remaining sign of tears from my face. "Jazak Allahu Khairan."

"But you have to promise me one thing." Taking a step closer, he demanded. His voice husky, as one of his hands cupped my face while the other blocked my way, leaning on the wall.

"Which is?" I breathed out, unable to calm my racing heartbeat, which was due to both the reasons, the proximity and the anxiety of what he might ask me.

"That you will tell me everything when you get to know yourself. That you won't hide anything from me." My breath stuck in my throat as I heard his demand. His firm voice left no space for argument or denial as his hazel orbs gazed at me with such intensity and hope, that it left me flabbergasted. And before I could answer him, the doorbell rang.

Oh shoot! Who was it now? 

._._._.

▪ Do you think she will make this promise? And even if she makes it, do you think she will tell him everything or will she try to save her mother?

._._._.