Ishq | (complete)

62 | Ishq

❝Namaz e Ishq Tere Anchal Mein Ada Kar Chuke

Ab Kisi Aur Ko Chahoon Tou Kafir Ho Jaoon❞

To say the media swarmed his office would be an understatement, but because of his safety and for the sake of case Behram Shah had strictly asked him not to interact with the media and to stay at home. His name wasn't attached to anything but Saeed would know in a heartbeat that it was him. Pair that with the clip of Martin confessing to starting the fire at hospital on Saeed's order, everything was said without saying. Hence the media clustered around his office building. He blocked out the storm. Internally far too tired to even keep up with the circus the media was creating. Shah promised him justice and for once Shehryar believed Saeed was going to be brought down to justice.

"Is this true?"

Laila's head was on his chest as they soaked the warmth of morning sun filtering through the window. Her phone started flooding with text messages and calls as well. He had put his phone on silent for the same exact reason. The softness of her voice brushed his skin.

"All of it." She curled against him, closing her eyes. Justice did not come without the sacrifices they both made, especially him. He wrapped his arm around her waist. Relief ran through her, but at the same time, the news about the children rattled her. Some of the children were from the extreme lower end of the city while some were abandoned all together. "I wonder how people can do that to their kids, abandoning them or letting them suffer like that." The words she whispered came from the hurt she buried somewhere deep within her heart.

"I'm sorry." He leaned down and kissed the crown of her head as he rubbed her spine to sooth the heaviness that settled on her. This had triggered old wounds within her. Some wounds were embedded in bones like DNA. No matter how far she ran away, they were going to be within her. No matter how much she healed or if she healed fully, there would be a scar or a shadow left behind.

And her abandonment was a wound like that. It didn't necessarily tore her apart like it used, but still it followed her like a ghost. Appearing here and there, sometimes years apart, sometimes moments apart.

"They all deserve someone like Malka." She stared at the bangles on the dresser, sparkling in the sun's rays. Home. Her clammy hands curled around Shehryar's shirt. The ghosts of the past stirred in her eyes as they darkened with fear, but he didn't interrupt her. "What if Malka hadn't saved me? What if she didn't fight for me?" She whispered her lost thoughts. "Sometimes when I feel defeated, I wonder who my mother was. Did my father ever see me or did my mother abandon me before he even found out? Or maybe I was separated by them against their will. Usually that's the thought I hold on to, but when I see the kids at the orphanage, how we find them, or if I see something like this. My hold on this thought keeps on getting weak. Maybe humans are innately cruel and some are better at hiding it than others." Tears fell from the corner of eyes, soaking his t-shirt. Shehryar threaded his other hand through her hair, letting the bun loose, gently brushing his fingers against her scalp.

"It is easier to remember monsters in people. Maybe there are cruel people out there, but if everyone was like that, the world would have ended long ago. For every Saeed out there, I think God has placed Malka on this earth. There is an orphanage to remember that there are people who are doing it just for the sake of these children and with no ulterior motive." His words were barely audible, yet it was like a soothing balm on the burn that the news caused earlier. He stared at the sun rays and murmured. "We have suffered so much I think we forgot what the world looks and feels like without all this suffering."

He wasn't necessarily grateful for what happened, but he guessed it was how it was supposed to be. There was so much loss involved in this process, but it broke the last wall of grief they both held in their own way. If it wasn't for these past few tragic events, both of them would still be holding on to the innermost wounds they were running from. Shehryar would never have the courage to open about the guilt he still held towards Wajdan, and Laila would never find out that it was okay sometimes to wonder about her abandonment. That's how they both were going to learn to heal from the wounds that always seemed too old to remember yet too fresh to even touch.