Chapter Two» Their Proposal

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Hello my darlings. I hope you're doing great. So, heres Chapter Two. I hope you all like it, please don't forget to vote comment and share it with everyone you know.

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As the dawning of the day approached. The sky above shone, with the darkest shade of red. Mixing against light Pink. As I gazed at the distant stars. Feeling my heart slam against my chest.

A heavy weight, remained on my shoulders. Like those of an abounded  chest, carrying darkest secrets. Burdening one's soul. A cold breeze swept by me, making me swallow down my dry throat. Tears, daring to sting against my eyes.

I knew a day would come, when such a topic was to be discussed.  Though, I didn't expect it, to be now. On this day.

Wiping the warm tears, escaping on to my cheeks. I inhaled sharply. Gripping against the wooden swing.  My mind swirling with hundreds of emotions. 

Get married. Again.

How could I? How could I be, with another man, when Yaseen. He was my everything.  He was the very air I breathed. How was I to look at another man, when it's Yaseen's face I searched for.

" Oh Yaseen, if only you were here" I whispered out softly. My teary gaze staring at the sky above me. Hoping, somehow, somewhere Yaseen could hear me. That somehow, he could come back home even though I knew. It was impossible.

" Aazeen, Abba and Mum are looking for you" Sumbal loud voice rang. Echoing across the large yard on the terrace, making me tense.

Inhaling sharply, I pulled my scarf upwards and proceeded to walk towards the spiral staircase. Hearing Abba and Mum talk, with Grandma and Nanno. Their laughter twinkled across the large courtyard, smiles filling their faces. The wounds of the past masked under their fake happiness.

Reaching the last step. I was sure enough, to find them all sitting across each other. Talking lightly amongst them, glancing upwards my gaze landed on Nonna sitting before my mother alongside grandma. Trailing my eyes from them, they easily landed on Abba and on to Grandad, whose back was facing me.

A small smile plastered my features, as I glanced at the back of the man. Feeling my heart warm up. All those nights, where I cried. Where I swam in my sorrows. He was there, always there.

Grandad hated us calling him that. He specifically insisted on being called 'Dada' which in our Pashtun culture, many called their grandads.

" Assalam Alaikum" I spoke slowly, greeting them in Arabic, whispering Peace be upon you. My voice echoed across the large hallways and in to the eerie quiet yard, that once overflowed with pigeons.

In an instance, I felt five pair of eyes on me, making a small smile plaster my features. My gaze swiftly looking at the people before me.

" Aazeen, my love. Come" Mum spoke softly, her grey eyes twinkling making her blonde hair shine against the bright light.

The years have been kind on my mother, as till this day. She remains the flawless woman I've known; with a beautiful round face and button nose, and not a single wrinkle of age, on her face. One wouldn't think that, Khadija Khan was nearly fifty years of age.

Dada, had made sure all his children, nieces and nephews, attended schools and university. Which is why, Mum was a Nurse. He strongly disliked, how some girls. Aren't sent to school, thus however isn't always the parents fault. For not everyone can afford the fees and most importantly, how were girls to attend school in the village, when there wasn't a school for them.

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