Love? A Disaster

♪ 24: Silent Symphony ♪

Osama was yet to respond to what she'd said when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and found a lady making her way toward them. She smoothed her clothes and hurriedly reached their side.

"The car's ready, Alina. I've also woken up your uncle. Let's go now."

Her eyes darted from Alina to Osama. "Oh, you've called a friend? Good good!"

Alina gave her a waned smile. "Mrs. Ikhlaq, I'm thankful for your help at this hour. I really am..."

She faltered and pursed her lips. Osama saw the hesitation in her stance. Mrs. Ikhlaq's help was appreciated but she'd rather not show her the messed up state of her mother's social life. That part was not something she took pride in.

"Alina's right, Mrs. Ikhlaq." Osama took a step forward in the woman's direction who genuinely looked concerned. "It's quite late. I'll take Alina to the police station and as soon as we are done there, she'll let you know. This is why she called me here."

An effortless lie to save Alina from a situation she was pulled into without having any part to play. That was always her equation with her parents, nothing new for Osama.

"Oh, that'll be good. I just didn't want her to go there all alone. As you said, it's quite late. Good that you're here, son. I was wondering why Alina didn't call any of her friends. I live across the street and often see you all stopping by her place. As far as I know, all of you are pretty solid. Do let me know when everything gets sorted."

She let it slide if she suspected Osama didn't come here often. "You good, Alina?"

Alina nodded at that. Osama wasted no time in opening the car door for her and she immediately got inside. As they drove out of the street, Mrs. Ikhlaq's worried face vanished behind the bricked walls surrounding the area. As soon as Osama put the car on the main road, Alina frantically dialed a number. Osama stayed quiet, focused on the road but fully aware of her agitation as she waited for the other person to pick up.

"Dad."

She breathed through the phone. "Are you aware—"

Whatever was said on the other side added to her distress. "Really, now? This isn't the time to keep score!"

The response was more frustrating if her incoherent replies were to go by.

"You know I can't do that. Let her be? Dad, that's not—"

Her father didn't let her say much. In a few seconds, when Alina tried to reason with Amir Asfandyar, the call was disconnected.

She slumped against the seat, her seatbelt digging into her torso as she looked outside of the window. Then slowly, her eyes fell on Osama.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

Osama had an idea. Her one-sided conversation with her father was telling of so much, and Osama was aware of most of it already. The four years of being her boyfriend gave him a good insight. But he didn't want to say it to her face. She needed his silence more than his words when he didn't have good things to say about her parents.

Twenty minutes later, they were inside the police station. Mahvish Asfandyar was arrested during a raid on an elite poker club as city police's anti-gambling campaign. It was more of a new money-grabbing tactic, arresting people from the elite circles and then demanding fitting bribes to let them loose. Alina was not surprised when she came to know Mahvish was the only person left to be taken out of there. The rest of her club members were already released, some weren't even locked up owing to their influence and prompt action.

Osama stood to the side watching Alina going through the procedure. The precision had him scowling. Not the first time, hun?

But she wasn't happy being here. Her mortification and concealed annoyance were not that hard to pick up on. That slightly comforted Osama. But it also filled him with abhorrence for Mahvish Asfandyar once again. What parent put their child through this time and again?