Azmaish-e-Ishq

Ch. 38: The Envelope

Salaar's P.O.V.

It was already November. 8 days had passed since I submitted the form to Mr. Wilmore, and I had just given my interview yesterday on Monday. After we wrapped up, he announced to me that I was selected to go.

I was leaving to America in 10 days from now. I would be getting to stay in a fully-furnished flat in Los Angeles with a coworker. I have start packing at least by the Wednesday before my flight on Friday.

Everyday felt like a ticking bomb. I didn't know when I would receive the dreaded call from Ami nor did I know when I would breakdown. It felt like I was on edge.

Coffee, cigarettes, and countless hours staring at canvases with paint stains on my shirt—I'd grown numb to everything else except for the void in my chest.

Heer and I haven't spoken since the afternoon at the pond. Ami said she had fallen sick, and I kept calling my mother to find out about her using the excuse that Heer needs rest so I didn't want to disturb her. In reality, it felt like there was now a boundary between us, and I didn't think she would have wanted me to reach out now that she wants to move on with Kamran.

But I've lost count of how many times I stared at her contact with my thumb hovering over the call button. I wanted to call her, to go find her and beg her not to do this. I've experienced so many sleepless nights, waking up and crying from the dreams where I was on my knees, pleading to her to not leave me, to tell me how I can change so she would love me.

Yet I know you can't force someone to make space in their heart for you if they don't want to do it themselves. Especially when there's someone else already there.

Perhaps I should reach out to tell her about my trip and to find out when she would be telling our parents. I can't tell Ami and Abu that I'm leaving for three months without explaining that there isn't going to be a wedding.

Heer's P.O.V.

I didn't have it in me to tell them. How could I when everyone is so happy? Ami and Anne are always happily chatting about the wedding. Baba and Abu are also equally as invested.

And to even imagine how it would destroy everything between our families shakes me to the core. 23 years of friendship between our families shattering to pieces because of my decision. It's what I was afraid of when even the idea of Salaar and I dating ever came to my head.

Every time I muster the tiniest bit of courage and the words come to the tip of my tongue, I cower away. It felt like I had to announce the death sentence of not only our marriage, but also the relationship between every single person in our families. Animosity, hurt, bitterness, confusion—these feelings were bound to arise when our elders won't be able to make sense of how things went wrong. It's human nature.

As I went down the stairs, prepping myself on telling Anne, I heard Ami and Anne in the kitchen, enthusing over the matching salwar kameezes they bought to give to our close family friends to wear to our mehendi. Anne and Ami were always close, but it was like they had grown even closer during all these wedding preparations.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and went out the front door to my car to go to Hayat. I couldn't. Not in that moment at least.

Things had gotten really bad again. It was hard to wake up every day. My anxiety ate at me constantly, making my limbs feel like they're growing numb. I can barely finish one meal a day, resulting in Anne scolding me because she thinks I'm dieting before the wedding when I'm already so petite. I hold back from messaging Salaar, staring at the blinking cursor in the text box for minutes on end with wet, blurry vision.

As I stacked the chocolate peanut butter fudge bars on the display, I wiped at my tears with my sleeves continuously.

Hours went by of my shift with me drowning in the same thoughts.