🎶"Chal puch diyan, tenu dasna paina. Main rowangi te, tenu hasna paina. Tenu khabar nai kithe si kho gayi... Humdard kyon bande ve tu hun mera? Ohdo kenda si mainu nafrat hi karenga. Main suneya mera naam nu sunke roya ae. Mere haal nu sunke, yaara ve, das ki karenga?
If I ask, then you will have to answer. Will you find it funny if I cry? You didn't even keep track of where I got lost.... Why are you being my sympathizer? You said you would always hate me. I heard you cried upon hearing my name. What will you do when you hear about my condition?"🎶
- Main Suneya | Raj Fatehpur | Ammy Virk
Salaar's P.O.V.
"I need to see Heer," Kamran expressed.
"I'll f*cking kill you before I let you see her," I snapped.
"Sal-" my arm swung back before my fist came in contact with his jaw, just as the nurse wheeled Heer into view.
The nurse abandoned Heer and ran back inside, "Security!"
Kamran returned the hit.
"Salaar!" Heer called my name faintly, but it reached neither of our ears.
I socked him before he threw another punch.
Sporting her grey shawl over a light pink hoodie and jogger set, Heer pushed herself out of the wheelchair and made her way in between us after we exchanged another punch.
She spread her weak arms out low in front of me defensively, facing Kamran.
"Heer," I took her name incredulously, not having noticed when she left the wheelchair.
Heer's P.O.V.
My heart pounded as I stood face to face with Kamran, my eyes watering instantaneously.
How did he know I was here? What was he doing here? I didn't expect to see him, let alone anyone for that matter.
I wasn't prepared for this.
He looked rugged, his breathing heavy, under eyes grey, facial scruff long, strands of hair now strewn across his forehead from the fight.
"Heer," he whispered, his eyes softening.
He took in my appearance, his light brown orbs trailing down my face, lingering on the hospital ID band around my wrist.
I bit my lower lip hard, flashbacks from Friday playing in my mind.
"I'll be f*cking d*mned if I married you, Heer Qureshi."
My insides began to shake.
"Tell him what I did. Tell him I f*cked another woman on the day of his daughter's nikkah to me."
The tears spilled down my cheeks, and Kamran took a step forward, reaching a hand out to wipe them. I backed away into Salaar.
Stood behind me, Salaar shot his hand out over my shoulder, pushing Kamran's away, "I swear I will break your f*cking hand if you touch her!" he barked. "I dare you!"
He stopped where he was, "Heer, I just want to talk to you."
"Tell him you all got what you deserved."
"I would have never forgiven myself if married you."
I turned around and clutched the sides of Salaar's shirt, my frame leaning into him. I was having difficulty holding myself up. His arms wrapped around my waist in support as he studied my face. I could feel Kamran's eyes burning into my back.
"I've made Hina wait long enough. Get lost from here. Get out of my life, Heer Qureshi."
"I need to sit down," I whispered to Salaar.
I was starting to feel nauseous too.
"Heer, let me explain-"
Salaar whisked me up into his arms and began striding over to his car.
Kamran followed briefly, "Please, just give me one opportunity to spea-"
"Do we have a problem?" a security guard exited the hospital, the nurse in tow.
Salaar placed me in the car and strapped the seatbelt before getting into the driver's seat. I watched Kamran grow smaller and smaller in the side mirror as we drove away.
Salaar's P.O.V.
After Heer asked if I was okay and after I revealed that Hina was at the hospital yesterday and that she must have told him, the rest of the car ride went by in silence.
I held Heer's hand and wrapped an arm around her as we walked to our flat slowly. She went to sleep, and so did I, the exhaustion of barely sleeping last night at the hospital now catching up to me.
When I woke up, Heer was still asleep. I went to the living area and flicked on the lights before doing the same in the kitchen. As I heated up canned broth, for Heer's sore throat, I responded to the text messages from our families. I hadn't gotten the chance to answer them yesterday.
As Heer and I ate at the dining table, she looked up at me from the broth. "Are you going to work tomorrow?"
"I requested tomorrow off as well," I answered quietly, avoiding eyes with her.
Mr. Ventura never called back. It seemed I was fired.
"You should go, Salaar. I'm fine."
I looked up at her as I felt her soft hand on my fist.
"I'm serious."
"I already requested it."
"You should still go. You're new at the company. It doesn't look good to take so many days off at the start. You can save it for later."
I wet my lips.
She lowered her voice, "If you're worried about me trying again, I won't."
A small smile arrived on my mouth, "I know. You promised."
She returned the small smile. "Go tomorrow."
I nodded slowly, going back to my broth.
I could feel her eyes studying me. She stopped my hand as I lifted the spoon to my lips.
"Salaar? Kya baat hai?"
(What's the matter?)
I gazed at her light-blue eyes, the truth on my tongue.
"Batao mujhe."
(Tell me.)
I inhaled deeply before confessing that I had left Manchester early because of her wedding and that yesterday was supposed to be my first day.
Her gaze was lowered with guilt, and I felt bad for telling her. I just didn't want to hide anything from her anymore.
"It's not your fault, Heer."
"It is," she whispered. "If I hadn't been at the hospital, then you wouldn't have missed your first day."
"I was meant to come back home yesterday," I asserted. "Your life and wellbeing is more important to me than any job, Heer. If this didn't work out, I'll find something else. It's alright."
"I think you should still go tomorrow. They might change their mind," she urged with soft eyes.
I gazed at her crystal orbs before sighing and nodding.
When we went to bed, a small source of light glowed from her side. She was scrolling on her phone for the first time since she's been here.
"Our parents are coming on Saturday," I informed.
"I'll talk to them then," she murmured, clearing their numerous notifications.
Her thumb stopped scrolling and she stared blankly at the most recent ones. She placed her phone on the side table then shut her eyes, pulling the comforter to her neck.
"Goodnight, machchar."
"Goodnight."
When I woke up to our alarm the following morning, I found ourselves tangled in each other's embrace again.
I looked up at the ceiling and thanked the Almighty profusely in my mind for saving my butterfly. To never be near her again, let alone hug her, the thought felt like death itself.
I gazed at her peaceful sleeping face that rested on my chest. She was ethereal.
She meant it when she wanted to marry me. Why? I couldn't figure that out. But did it mean everything? Yes.
As I continued admiring her, my heart sunk at the same time. She seemed so frail and small. She lost weight within the last few days.
I carefully got up and got dressed for work. I made a quick breakfast of eggs with sweet yogurt and fruit for the both us, covering the plate and bowl for her so she can have it when she wakes up.
When I entered the modern, abstract building, I found Mr. Ventura speaking to the receptionist.
"Good morning, Mr. Ventura," I greeted hesitantly.
He looked up at me from the documents the receptionist handed him, scowling, "Salaar."
"Mr. Ventura, I would like to apologize for-"
"How about we speak in my office?" he turned on his heels, leaving me to follow.
He left the door open while flipping through a stack of papers on his desk.
I stood in front of the table, "Mr. Ventura, I am sorry for-"
He handed me several stapled sheets.
It was my termination record.
"We do not tolerate such levels of unprofessionalism here at Ascension, Salaar. Please review these documents thoroughly. You will find an eviction notice for the company-provided flat."
I flipped through the pages and found I had 30 days to move out.
"Sir, it was not my intention to- please let me explain. My wife needed urgent medical help. She was in the hospital and was discharged yesterday-"
He lifted an eyebrow, "Wife? Your employee profile lists you as unmarried. Are you lying, Salaar?"
I shook my head, "We got married on Friday-"
He snickered, "Convenient."
"I can provide the discharge papers as proof that I was-"
"Salaar," I heard from behind me.
It was Mr. Wilmore, the company head.
"What seems to be the matter?" he questioned the both of us.
"I just delivered Salaar's termination notice to him, Mr. Wilmore. I emailed you the reason for his acquittal yesterday, sir," the supervisor explained.
The short old man with curly grey hair studied my face intently before gesturing, "Follow me, Salaar."
I could feel Mr. Ventura's inquisitive eyes on me as I went.
Mr. Wilmore took me into his office and sat down on his chair, pushing a pair of glasses onto the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten the chance to read Victor's email yet. Will you explain to me the issue?"
I elaborated on how I recently got married and that I forgot to call in to notify that I wouldn't be coming in since I had to take my wife to the hospital, that she was in critical condition. I apologized and expressed how I was grateful to have gotten the opportunity to work here, that it would be an honor to continue, and I would be more mindful in the future.
"How is your wife doing now?"
"She's a lot better, sir."
"Anything serious?"
I hesitated, not wanting to reveal what was the cause for her hospital visit, so I opted to simply say, "It was."
He nodded, observing me. "Let me see those papers," he extended his hand.
He licked his index finger before flipping through them. After he reached the last page, he tore the stack in half and discarded the shreds into the trash can tucked under his desk.
"Sir-" my jaw fell slightly.
"You're too talented to let go of, Salaar. I was thoroughly impressed with you during our onboarding meeting. I will be moving you into my department as your new supervisor. I hope you will bear with me," he chuckled, pointing at his ears, "These ears don't work as well as they used to, so I request you speak a little louder when you're near me."
"What?" the word slipped past my lips, dumbfounded.
He smiled, looking at me fondly after he removed his glasses, "Honestly speaking? You remind me of my younger self. Ambitious, creative... and madly in love. I can see it in your eyes... You've shown where your priorities are—your family. As an employer, I value character as much as technical skills... I lost my wife to kidney failure. Ruth was a special one, I tell you," he gazed at a photo frame on his desk longingly. "Make time for your wife. Cherish her while you've still got the chance... I'll shift your start date to Monday. Make sure she's fully well. I'll see you then."
"Mr. Wilmore..." I was at a loss for words.
He stood up and guided me to the door, "If we're going to be working together, I'll let you know, I'm much more of a hugger than a handshaker, my boy."
I smiled and hugged the grandpa-like man, "Thank you so much."
He patted my shoulder and gestured to the exit, "Give your wife my regards."
"I will. Thank you again."
"Don't mention it."
Before driving home, I bought lunch for later. When I got to the flat, I found Heer had eaten breakfast since the dishes were out of sight.
"Heer?" I stepped into the bedroom. She made the bed, but-
The lights were on under the bathroom door.
My heartbeat sped up as my blood ran cold.
Not again.
I rushed over and knocked on the door, my voice loud and shaky, "Heer!"
I was about to knock again when the door opened. She looked at me innocently wearing fresh clothes and a towel wrapped around her wet hair.
A breath of relief left my lips as I wrapped her in a tight hug.
"Salaar?" she lifted her arms around me.
I retreated and smiled, clearing my throat, "The CEO is letting me stay. On top of that, he actually promoted me into his department. He wants me to start on Monday."
I refrained from telling her why I had truly hugged her. While I trusted her, the fear of losing her overpowered it.
She mustered a smile, "Congratulations."
"Thank you. And thanks for suggesting I go in today."
"You're welcome."
I sat on the edge of the bed as she walked over to the dressing table.
"Did you just wake up?" I asked.
It was nearing 11.
"No," she rubbed moisturizer on her face, speaking softly, "I woke up around nine and did laundry. Thank you for the breakfast. I ate it then folded our clothes. I was going to text you after I showered."
"Of course. Thanks for doing the laundry."
She flashed a faint smile through the mirror as I watched her.
"Do you want to go out? We can drive around or go on a walk," I suggested. The doctor had recommended me to try to keep her occupied.
"I was thinking I could unpack."
"I can help you."
She nodded.
"Let me get changed." I went to the restroom and changed into more casual clothes before joining her in front of the dresser.
She kneeled down and unzipped her luggage.
"How are you organizing it?" I questioned.
"Pajamas and loungewear in the dresser. Everything else in the closet."
I nodded and kneeled next to her.
She stood up, "Can you hand me everything from the middle and right rows?"
"Can I?"
She adorably grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged as I chuckled.
I handed her several joggers, sweatshirts, t-shirts, and pajama sets, one-by-one. I eventually came across a few silk fabrics, black, pink, beige, red, grey, and gold. The first one unraveled as I lifted it.
A short nightgown with lace borders and spaghetti straps.
Heer extended her palm, studying the remaining space in the drawer.
"Sal-" she finally looked down at me. "Salaar!" she sheepishly snatched it from my hands, her cheeks growing pink.
She folded it quickly and stuffed it into the drawer.
"This one's a nice color," I held the red one up by the straps, teasing, "It would suit you."
Her eyes widened as she gasped silently, her head snapping towards me. She grabbed it out of my hands while I laughed. She kneeled down and quickly gathered the remaining nightgowns along with all of her undergarments then stood up, shoving them into the dresser.
I bit my lower lip, stifling a smirk. "You forgot this one," I lifted a pink underwear with strawberries printed on it.
She huffed loudly and snatched it, resembling a strawberry herself.
"It was cute," I furthered as she pulled me up by the shoulders. "Do you have a matching-"
She pushed me towards the door, squealing, "Go from here! I don't need your help!"
I turned around to face her as she thrust me through the doorframe, "I was joking!"
"Jao!"
(Go!)
Heer's P.O.V.
I quickly shut the door and locked it as Salaar burst into laughter.
My face and ears were on fire.
This was the first time he had made comments like that.
As I hung the rest of my clothes in the closet on hangers, I couldn't help but wonder when things changed for him. How long had he fostered these feelings for me?
I was appreciative that he kept things friendly and easy between us despite them. Though his words were reflective of his feelings, I knew he made them in light spirit.
But they still had me red as a tomato.
When I finally mustered the courage to face him again, I found him napping on the sofa. He woke up at the sound of the bedroom door opening.
"Sorry."
"It's fine," he sat up slowly and ran his fingers through his hair, "Did you finish?"
"Yes."
"Are you ready to eat? I bought lunch before I came home."
I now noticed the large brown paper bag on the dining table, "Oh, thank you."
He got up and I followed him.
"Yayla çorbası."
I looked at him with subtle surprise as he unpacked the mint yogurt rice soup, "You went to a Turkish restaurant?"
"Yeah. I know you like to have it when your ill, not that you are but your throat must still be bothering you." He then chuckled, "I don't think it would've been edible had I tried to make it."
"Thank you, Salaar," I said, studying him.
"Jao jao. Tum bhi kya yaad rakhogi?"
(Go go. What will you remember [of my favor]?)
I shook my head with a small smile before going to get bowls and spoons. When we sat down, I found he also bought a variety of kebabs.
We dined silently. I didn't have much of an appetite, but I ate a little for him.
He spoke up, "Did you check in with Alejandra?"
I nodded. "I messaged her last night. She said Hayat's running smoothly."
"Do you miss it?"
"Hayat?"
He nodded.
I loved whipping up different concoctions and baking. His question made me realize they served as good distractions, ones I terribly needed.
"Yes."
Salaar's P.O.V.
"We can go to Manchester next Friday after work. If you want to go earlier, I can book you a train."
"We can go together," she responded quietly.
She collected the bowls and I put away the leftovers in the fridge. I went to use the restroom while she washed the dishes.
When I returned, I rushed over to her in panic. Her milky complexion was pink as she cried, rubbing at her wrist feverishly.
"Heer!" I grabbed her hands to stop her, but she persisted.
The skin surrounding her tattoo was red. Her thumb wiped at the ink futilely under the running tap.
"Jaata kyun nahin?" she sobbed.
(Why won't it go?)
"Heer, stop!" I shut off the water.
I hugged her to myself tightly while she attempted to push me away.
"Let go! I don't want it anymore! Chodo mujhe! Let go of me! Why won't it go?!" she cried as she struggled.
"Heer-"
"Chodo! Chodo mujhe! Nahin chahiye mujhe! Please," she wailed.
(Let go! Let go of me! I don't want it!)
I continued holding her firmly while she fought and pushed at me. My arms caged her until she exhausted herself and leaned into my embrace, clutching my shirt.
She sank to her knees and I lowered to the ground with her.
"It's not going to go like that, sweetheart," I stroked her hair before pressing a long kiss to her temple as she cried into my chest. "It's alright."
Her arms wrapped around my neck, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly as her voice quavered, "Mera qasoor kya tha?"
(What was my fault?)
My heart clenched.
"Main kuch nahin jaanti thi," I felt her shake her head, "Mujhe kuch pata nahin tha. Meri kya galti thi?"
(I didn't know anything. I wasn't aware of anything. What was my mistake?)
"Tumhari koi galti nahin thi na hi koi qasoor tha, Heer," I held her tighter.
(You had no mistake or fault, Heer.)
"Phir kis baat ki saza di mujhe? Dil kyun toda mera? Bewafai kyun ki? Maine sirf pyaar kiya tha usse, magar woh mujhse nafrat karta tha, mere wajood ko nafrat karta tha."
(What did he punish me for? Why did he break my heart? Why was he unfaithful? I only loved him, but he hated me, he hated my existence.)
Her body racked with a sob after those words and they broke my heart for several different reasons—her own broken heart, her grief, the mere idea of someone hating her, and, I couldn't help it, hearing about her love for someone else.
Heer's P.O.V.
I cried holding Salaar.
"Nahin karta tha. Tumse kaise koi nafrat kar sakta hai?" he cooed, rubbing my back comfortingly.
(He didn't. How can someone hate you?)
My tattoo came into sight again over his shoulder. "Yeh uska yaad dilata hai mujhe. Jab bhi dekhti hoon, meri aankhon ke samne woh nazar aata hai, uska kahi hui haar baat kaanon mein gunjta hai. Aur har baar bohat dard hota hai mujhe," I managed to whisper as my tears fell.
(It reminds me of him. Every time I see it, I see him in front of my eyes, his every word echoes in my ears. And every time, it really hurts.)
Salaar pulled me away from himself and cupped my cheeks, speaking gently as he looked into my eyes, "It hurts you because you are giving meaning to it, because you are giving it significance. If you wanted, it doesn't have to mean anything. You possess the power to take away what it symbolizes. It can simply be just a letter if you want, nothing more. But that's up to you to decide, Heer."
I stared at him as his words seeped in.
"People and memories only have as much power over you as much as you allow them to. It's in your hands to control how much that is, sweetheart," his thumbs wiped away my tears, "I know it's hard, but don't let them hurt you."
He engulfed me in another hug, and I closed my eyes, absorbing the soothing comfort I've discovered in his embrace.
"How about we go to the park for a bit?" he suggested softly in my ear.
I nodded.
His hands gripped my arms as he helped me up. He then paused, studying my eyes. I looked at him curiously. His gaze then lowered to my legs.
"What happened there?" he pointed at my knee.
"Where?" I was wearing long pants. It didn't have any holes or tears nor could he see my skin. I couldn't understand what he was referring to.
"Here." Before I could register it, his left hand reached for the back of my knee while the other gripped my arm, lifting me behind his shoulders in an upside-down 'L' position, making me a victim to his wrestling shenanigans.
"Salaar!" I chuckled ever-so quietly at the unexpected action.
He walked to the bedroom with me over his shoulders, "Hmm, kya pehenegi meri machchar? Bahar kaafi thand hai. Koi muffler hai? Tumhari naak toh tamater ki tarah laal hona hai. Khair, agar ek snowwoman ban gayi toh gajar ki zaroorat nahin hogi."
(Hmm, what is my mosquito going to wear? It's quite cold outside. Do you have a scarf? Your nose is going to turn red like a tomato. Anyway, if you become a snowwoman, you won't need a carrot.)
I couldn't help but giggle softly at his innocent, mindless dialogue.
Salaar's P.O.V.
We drove around the city for a bit before strolling around at a park where I attempted to keep Heer's mind busy by making jokes or commenting on small things. We eventually got back in the car and continued exploring unfamiliar streets until finding a restaurant for dinner.
When we stepped into our flat at night, Heer patted the pockets of her jacket. "I think I forgot my phone in the car."
"I'll go and get it. You can get changed. Do you want to watch a movie?"
"It's fine. I can go downstairs. Give me your keys."
"Don't worry about it. Find something to watch meanwhile. I'll be right back."
She nodded with a small closed-mouth smile.
After retrieving her phone from the car, I stopped by the lobby to check the mailbox when I noticed a familiar figure standing outside the building's locked main doors, studying the tenant list next to the intercom.
I slammed the steel mailbox shut and pushed the glass door open, my eyebrows furrowing with anger, "Who gave you our address?"
"I just need to talk to Heer and then I'll leave."
"The hell you will. Leave now. Get the f*ck away from here."
"Call her downst-"
"Leave her alone. What? Have you not had your sick fill yet?"
"Calm dow-"
"Are you not yet satisfied with what you did to her considering you've come back?"
Kamran sighed, "Sal-"
I grabbed him by the collars, glaring, "Samajh mein kya nahin aa raha? Huh? Dimaag mein kya nahin ghus raha? Milna toh door ki baat hai, tujhe uska saaya bhi na dekhne doon."
(What do you not understand? Huh? What's not going into your head? Forget about meeting her, I won't let you even see her shadow.)
His features grew serious.
My eyes bore into his as I seethed, "Maut ke munh se wapas aayi hai woh. Ab uss par ek kharoch tak aana mujhe manzoor nahin. Biwi hai woh meri. Tera koi haqq nahin hai usse milne ka. Agar itna hi shaunk hai kisi ko munh dikhane ka, ja ke Hina ko dikha."
(She's come back from the brink of death. Now I won't tolerate so much so as a scratch coming to her. She's my wife. You have no right to meet her. If you want to show your face to someone so bad, go show Hina.)
He shoved me away, "Aaya na auqaat pe? Mauka dikha aur kood gaya. Had your eyes on her our entire relationship and you married her when you saw the golden opportunity."
(You've shown your true colors. You saw the chance and you jumped for it...)
"I won't explain myself to you."
"Yeah, why would you? Hovered around her under the pretense that you're her best friend when your intentions were far from one."
"You're one to talk."
His eyes wavered before he took a step back. "Just let me talk to her and I will leave."
"F*ck off," I then turned around and began unlocking the doors.
What she saw in him, I will never understand.
Through the reflection of the glass doors, I could see him lift his head up at the building as he moved back and shouted, "HEER! HEER! If you can hear me, I won't leave until you speak to me! Just talk to me once and then I'll go! HEER!"
Heer's P.O.V.
I was stood in the middle of the living room when Salaar stormed into the flat.
He handed me my phone, explaining the delay curtly as he walked past me into the bedroom, his eyebrows creased, "Sorry. I had to check the mail."
I watched as he shut the window and pulled the curtains together swiftly. He tugged his shirt off while he strode through the room, his mind evidently occupied. He rummaged for pajamas in the dresser then began unbuttoning his pants. I left to the living room and sat on the sofa to give him privacy since it didn't seem like he was in the frame of mind that would've reminded him to close the door.
Neither of us paid attention to the film on the screen. My phone, which was on silent, kept flashing with calls or texts. Salaar's leg kept bouncing up and down rapidly, his elbow on the armrest of the sofa, his fist resting against his mouth.
As soon as the credits rolled, he shot up and switched the tv off. "Let's go to bed. I'll use the restroom after you."
I nodded and left to the bathroom. When I exited the restroom, my head turned in the direction of the closed window, but before I could complete a thought, the faint stench of cigarette smoke reached my nose. Salaar had been smoking while I was using the toilet.
When had he developed the habit? How and why? How long had he been hiding this?
I heard him lower the window in the living room. I got into bed as he walked in to the room. When he was done using the restroom, he turned off the lights and joined me. The darkness was interrupted by my phone glowing every few minutes. I turned it around so the touchscreen faced the mattress.
"Goodnight," I murmured.
"Goodnight."
Salaar's P.O.V.
I'd been floating in and out of consciousness, frustrated about the fact that Kamran showed up and was potentially still downstairs.
As I peeked through my eyelids, a sliver of moonlight coming in through the window caught my attention.
Hadn't I closed the curtains?
It was then I realized.
Heer wasn't laying next to me. I quickly got out of bed and made my way to the glass pane.
Our flat was at the corner of the complex, so the view from the bedroom depicted the front of the building while the windows from the living room showed the city.
I could see Heer in her jacket with her shawl wrapped around her, standing in front of Kamran near the light post.