Zehnaseeb ✓

f o r t y - f o u r

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I walk out to see Abroo talking to him, and I promise myself not to eavesdrop. They deserve their privacy.

He is going to be mine, in the hereafter he is going to be mine.

I adore the neutral toned shawl paired with the brown sherwani he's wearing. The thick shawl compliments his broad shoulders so well.

It's so unbearable to see him listening to another girl, especially one I know he's almost been in a relationship with.

I ignore Abroo's smirk while she sips down the soft drink, and sit down on one edge of the empty third row.

"Sawera jaanam, I was looking for you." My eyes dart where the words come from and the dupatta I was fixing slips my hands.

I look down and continue fixing it, why on earth would he call me jaanam, did he just have a memory loss or something?

He takes the seat next to mine.

"You know you look gorgeous?"

The aunt sitting in front of us turns to look at us and then pretends she didn't hear it.

"Why'd you not wear the nose pin?" He whispers.

I shake my head, not knowing what to say.

I don't know what he's thinking but I'm about to spill a fountain down my eyes.

I try not to think anything and look at the stage but my peripheral vision catches Abroo looking at me.

There's Areeb next to her, both looking at us.

What—

I'm about to get up but he holds my hand as the night begins.

He holds my hand.

I look down.

I've not had this feeling in so long—

"Don't do this, it will be very hard for me to get over you once we get back on our separate ways." I sob and sniff my tear back before it rolls down.

"Oh so now Sawera suddenly cares about herself?"

My heart feels triggered.

Why would he say that?

I move my hand out of his.

Abroo's face is now dulled down and I feel sorry for her, she looks much better with Azaan.

I struggle the whole night, it seems unreal and uncomfortable.

It's not supposed to be this way.

My heart beats at an abnormal rate and I don't know what to do. I keep on checking my phone.

When the good qawaalis start I feel the urge to leave.

My whole life consists of an unlimited package of tears.

I silence the thoughts and go to my room.

I silently take the makeup off, concentrating on not thinking of anything.

I read the Quraan for a bit and go to sleep.

~~~