He was done– so done with his mother and sister's cribbing in the morning. Fayd shifted and stirred in his bed trying to block out their loud yells and get some sleep before the day kicked his ass out of the bed. He needed sleep so he could have a clear mind for the rest of the day, for he knew it shouldn't be more than three hours since he hit the bed. However, hearing their quarrels made him feel at home given this was what he usually woke up to before he left for Pakistan. His mother would run after her daughter, trying to get her to do things or get her out of the house for a while. Their recent quarrels were about her marriage and how she was going to cope after getting married if she continued being a nuisance while a young boy got ready for school.
Burying the right of his face into the pillow, his hand worked against the surface of the side table and the bed in search of his phone– clearly, he didn't remember where he sent his phone flying after he sneaked in at twenty past three am. His mother would have pushed a stick down his throat for coming late. The household had curfews and everyone was expected to abide by them, no matter the age. But then it was his mother's strict parenting that made them into whatever they were. His older brother– a respectful and respectable man. His sister– although he had nothing much to flaunt about her lazy self– was good at studying and everything else she had attempted to do. On the other hand was him, who lived by every middle child's name- a disastrous disappointment.
Wrapping the comforter around his ears, he curled up like a moth trying to avoid the fire but it was the combustion that couldn't be avoided. The comforter didn't help and the phone was missing. He knew he was done for the day. Pushing himself away from the pillows, he dragged out of the bed and opened the curtains allowing the rays of the sun to slither through the glass. The day was very much positive– it was him that disliked the positivity it shed already. Making a face at his reflection in the mirror, he walked into the bathroom and when he was done he dashed out of his room, still looking for his phone.
"Ammi aap ne mera phone dekha?" He chided as soon as he walked into the main hallway that led him to the kitchen and the living hall.
"Haan." She replied, flipping a piece of french toast. He gagged when the raw stench of eggs hit his nostrils.
"Where?" He asked, his eyes filled with hope. He— no— the universe could vouch that the thirty-three-year-old man had nothing on his phone except for a few contact numbers and a bunch of emails.
"Last night. In your hands when you walked out on your father." She hollered, pushing her son aside to serve the daughter she was yelling at just a few minutes ago.
"Ammi, please." There was urgency in his voice like he was desperately trying to avoid what was inevitable. The second he crossed the threshold, he knew his mother was going to slam it in his face every time she saw him for disrespecting his father.
"You seriously need to watch your actions, boy. Lack of respect towards parents is not accepted in my house." That was it. She ended the matter and he was smart to not answer back.
He walked around and pressed himself against her back– wrapping his arms around her neck and hugging her as tightly as he could. The warmth and love of a mother– it was forsaken in his life for years. Her mother, despite being one of the most educated in her family, quit her job when she found out she was pregnant with Ahsan thirty-five years ago. She wanted to give her entire time to her children; not only spare it and that was how she was able to discipline her kids in the places they needed to be disciplined. She was loving– she loved her kids so dearly but she would never turn blind to their wrongdoings.
"I'm sorry, mama." He apologized. He was but he could never give what they wanted from him but his mother gave no shit.
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
Huffing greatly at his disobedient behavior and his mother's sullen mood, he looked around the house to find his father, "Where is abba?"
"Look around, I don't know." His shoulders sank– at the age of thirty-three and being one of the successful investigators, he still stood with no chance to defend himself in front of his mother. Grabbing a piece of toast and noting to throw it up later, he sprinted across the house, a few steps downstairs, a few upstairs, a few in the backyard and a few on the lawn having found his father nowhere he returned when Samara looked at him with a raised brow and a teasing smile.
"I may know where you left your phone last night." She grinned, extending her hand.
"Where?"
"Negotiations first, brother." She grinned at her brother.
"Forget it, I'll look for it myself." Thrusting his hands in his pocket, Fayd took back steps to climb stairs when,
"It may or may not be related to Ayat aapi." Heaving out a dramatic sigh, Samara pushed herself on the sofa after returning from washing the dishes her mother had left for her to wash– a work she had been putting off since last night and got yelled at in the morning.
His steps halted near the foot of the sofa and he turned around to find her standing there with a smirk, "Cut the chase or I'm going to kick your ass."
"Bribe first."
"Fine. Say it." He growled.
"You're spending your money on me."
"God. Fine, Samara. Now tell me." And he was this close to losing his sanity. The women Allah had sent in his life were for nothing but to adulterate his peace of mind.
"It's in Ayat aapi's place. You forgot to bring it back with you." It's the behavior of his sister that shunned him at times. She said things randomly like they wouldn't mean anything to the other person. Gaping at his baby sister, he pulled backwards and made his way to the door, nodding his head when she told him to not forget the arrangement.
He must have lost it. He was sure as hell that he had lost it from the way he had been acting for the last few days– totally unpredictable and nerving so much he suspected his own actions. A man like him was always sure about what he wanted and what needed to be done but owing to the situation he had created, he couldn't say he could decipher it and he hated it. Last night happened to be extremely stressful as his father came back home with his friend's proposal– that he had seen Fayd in Salaar's nikah and had liked him for his daughter despite the age difference but when Fayd pointed it out he called him irresponsible for not wanting to marry and settle down. Things had gotten a little tense between the father and son so to prevent the inevitable destruction, Fayd walked out in despair. Initially, as he planned to come back, he had wanted to marry a girl of his parent's choice but that couldn't be said now that things had changed. He had fallen in love.
Fayd sighed staring at her front door, reconsidering his decision of crashing at her door so early in the morning. They had worked together till three and he was back at her door at seven. He cringed but he needed his phone back given the fact that a person's phone held more of his secrets than his best friend. His knuckles knocked against the door politely. He was embarrassed– utterly and entirely. But then he heard the footsteps and he knew who was coming to open the door for him.
"Hey," He greeted, still embarrassed.
"Hi?" She replied unsure after seeing him scratch his name in embarrassment, "Come in." Stepping aside, she opened the door for him.
"My phone?"
"You came here to fetch your phone? I told Samara that I will drop it off at your place on my way to chacha's place. I thought you'd be sleeping." Her voice still contained uncertainty.
Damn, Samara– that little brat.
"I was." He mumbled plopping down on the sofa and stretching the sleep out of his eyes when Ayat emerged from the kitchen, holding out the cookies bibi jaan made last night. His eyes went wide when he touched them. It was warm. They were warm because she had warmed them for him. She remembered it. She remembered the tiny details of his preferences.
"Can you warm them up for me? They taste so much better." He had said to bibi jaan when they were in Pakistan– when she had baked a whole three batches just for him and Isaa.
Ayat's mouth twitched expecting him to react but disappointment coursed through her veins when nothing appeared on his face except that he had steeled in his seat. Handing the tray to him, Ayat walked back to where she stood to enjoy her coffee, "I'm just going to start living here."
"This is nowhere close to your world." He rumbled. Having her only for a few months in his hometown had him run for life, if she settled down in New Orleans, that would be the end of him.
"I know but at least I get to enjoy coffee and tea with milk." She had joked. Correction; she had attempted to joke. They both knew why she wanted to live there.
"My phone?"
"Eat the cookies, drink up your coffee. I'm not going to run away with your phone." She took a long slurry sip before heaving out in exhilaration. Her taste buds were almost dead after drinking black tea or coffee or green tea all her life.
"I won't be coming here for the rest of the day so be relaxed and take a day off." He informed her.
It sat heavily on her shoulders. She wanted him to visit her even if it was only for the sake of whatever went on between them. She still yearned for the warmth of his proximity. Tracing the rim of her mug, she waited for a second before pouring the rest of the coffee into the sink, the coffee suddenly felt bitter and tasteless. He looked over his shoulder when he heard the water from the tap.
"Why?" She rasped– regretting almost immediately.
"I'm just going out to buy a few things for myself-" He paused as though he thought of something, "Do you mind joining me on my shopping spree?" Ew. That was cringe-worthy. He felt nauseated by the choice of words.
"Is it okay with you?"
"Of course. I'm the one offering." He grabbed another piece of cookie as he watched her walking towards her room and he leaned back, heaving out a sigh. He was terrible at it. He was so very terrible in behaving himself when she was around. Drinking the last sip of his coffee, he rose to his feets and strode to the kitchen, washed his mug and the cookie tray, came back and sat back on his chair.
"My phone. Ruh!" And he heard her shriek in reply.
~
This was not what he imagined when he offered her to join him. He wanted her to shop for herself instead of going around and choosing stuff for his indecisive ass while he switched between seats waiting for her to finalize things. He didn't like how it was going and the shell he had built around him was slowly crumbling to the ground and Ayat was climbing higher than he would have liked. However, she was acting as though nothing happened between them– as though he hadn't betrayed her and run away with her secrets. As though he didn't confess his love. As though he hadn't seen the same in her eyes. She was pretending like everything was fine. But nothing ever was. He only messed up by inviting her to whatever he called it.
"Ayat-" He stopped when one of the sales people turned to face him, thinking he needed help, "Let's leave." He called out to her but the woman was too engrossed in helping him.
"Ayat!"
"What is wrong with you?" She bellowed back and thrust the shirts in the girl's hands asking her to check them out.
"Let me get something for myself." On other occasions, he would have offered helping her but now that was the last thing he was concerned about. The moment and coming out with her felt too personal. He nodded, concluding he didn't know a thing about women's apparel so he stayed put while Ayat roamed around the store and bought a few sets of casual wear for herself.
"I'll check out." He hauled the dresses from her hands and began to walk from there without giving her a chance to talk against it. However, she took long strides and reached him before he could reach the checkout counter.
"You don't need to. You don't have to." If that hurt, he kept it to himself.
"I insist." He looked at her with eyes as gentle as morning breeze and it did the work. Ayat let the grip loose while the other took it as a chance and walked off to the checkout counter, for he thought it was the best he could do for her amidst the other things he would have done for her had he not fled away.
At times, things numbed the both of them– things as small as taking care of each other to run across the entire world for her, they fazed them. What they had was forbidden or so they thought. The man that could run from his own love would do any-fucking-thing in the world for her. He would die and he would kill but he would never let himself be close to her when he knew it hurt both of them.
The muscle in his jaw flexed as an unnerving feeling pulsated in his body. He had been feeling it ever since he stepped his feet on that floor. Someone had their eyes on them and he could bet his life. He looked around a couple of times when Ayat wasn't looking. He knew he had to come back for the one after dropping her at her place. He wouldn't do anything in her presence which would ultimately endanger her life.
"I'll drop you at your place." Ayat nodded dubiously because he said he needed to buy a hard-disk or two but insisted on leaving the mall but from his troubled voice, she could say something was going wrong.
Ayat noticed his careful steps as he had held the bags in one hand and the other one was circled around her back- as though safeguarding her from the rushing crowds. That's when he saw the man– the one that had been stalking them ever since they walked inside. The man pretended to turn his attention to somewhere else when he saw Fayd scrutinizing him. This was wrong– it was so wrong that he could feel it creep in his sanity. Fayd looked at Ayat who was responding to emails and noticed her ignoring Farah. He had his doubts on Isaa now that he had seen her avoiding Farah out.
"Take this. I need to get something done." He shoved the bags in her hands before she even turned to him. The man that looked at them was alerted and was about to run when Fayd broke out in a run– chasing the man that tailed them.
"Yazdan!" Her call echoed somewhere far in the background as he had already run ahead, pushing everyone who came in his way.
Things had been getting way dirtier than he had initially imagined it to be. He didn't think Khalid sahb and his brother would hire someone to send threats to Ayat, he didn't think that the wise man he idolized was doing everything under the mask. He didn't think Khalid sahb would go to the end to keep him away from her. He didn't think Khalid sahb would fly down to America because she flew down to attend her cousin's wedding. As things summed up, Fayd was only growing frustrated over the fact he held himself back.
"Stop right there."
Fayd shouted as he chased him and when he was just seconds away from grabbing the back of his collar, the man ran into the washroom. He stopped for a breath because now Fayd knew that he was only a hand's reach. He wouldn't have been suspicious if he hadn't looked away when Fayd found him stalking them. Fayd would never have drawn a conclusion if that good-for-nothing loser had maintained discretion. And before the man could understand the situation, Fayd's fist landed on his jaw. He pushed him to the ground and started beating the daylights out of him.
"How long have you been stalking us?"
"Nah-" He was about to finish his words before Fayd pushed his face to the ground, forcing him to say the truth, "-I just saw you here. I've nothing against you two now, trust my words."
"Now?"
"Yes."
"What do you mean?"
"Abbas. I'm Abbas." It took a while for Fayd to understand Abbas' identity- that this was the man who was hired to send threats to his woman.
He sucked in a breath, getting up from his stomach and standing on his feet while his hands went to his hair in frustration. Wasn't what happened back in Pakistan enough that he came all the way to America? Thinking Abbas wouldn't fly down was the foolish thing he had ever thought of aside his brilliant idea of disappearing from Pakistan and not telling anything to his parents. A warm feeling tickled the insides of his nose and he looked up, forcing the blood to rush back into the vessels which, he knew, was almost impossible. He tore a couple of tissues from the dispenser and stuck on the opening of his nostrils while the blood soaked them to red in a handful of seconds.
"What are you doing here?" Fayd's despise for him was so tangible in his voice– partly because of what extent he had go because of Abbas and mostly because the threats. When Ayat opened the cubicle and took out the boxes, Fayd was very close to losing his sobriety. So many things– so many horrifying things that he wouldn't wish them for his enemies but then that was all for the woman he so dearly loved. So it was justified for him to tear Abbas'world apart and shove the pieces in his hands.
The man was eerily quiet. The man hadn't seen the beast inside Fayd. The man didn't know how dangerous Fayd could truly be when he wasn't wallowing in self-pity. He took a step closer– his thick brows unifying and his orbs darkening, "I asked you something."
"I was offered a job in New Orleans a few days after my dismissal." He replied, wiping the blood off his mouth. Abbas wasn't scared, no but he didn't want to be dishonest either. He was ashamed of what he did but no person would do such a thing out of liking unless he was a psychopath.
"May I ask why you said yes to Khalid sahb?"
"Khalid sahb? No. I was hired by someone else. Khalid Shah only replaced him when he passed."
It left him devastated. One upon another. Everyone kept pointing at someone else and the circle only went deeper. It wasn't a one man army. When the one that was behind all this would be brought under the light, everyone including him would be left heartbroken by the betrayal. At times, things were against Khalid sahb and at times, it was against bibi jaan. God, he didn't want to suspect the woman that took care of him when he was on the hospital bed. And now hearing Abbas say, his prime suspect had become Nazeem sahb but not for longer since he said that the person had passed.
So Ibrahim Wajdani?
But that man went against everyone to keep his almost insane wife away from his daughter. No way in this fucked up world would he do that to his daughter.
"That's not the answer to my question, Abbas." He groaned.
"What else would you expect from an unemployed youth like me? My wife was pregnant with my daughter. I had to find a job to feed them. They promised to pay a fortune and I agreed to do it." He replied in distaste. To him, men like Fayd had never had any difficulty in finding a job only because they graduated from a foreign country.
"Do you know the main man's name?" Hope. Fayd wanted to feel how it tasted.
"Meri beti ki kasam. Nahi."
But then he realized something, "How did you find a job here?"
"I didn't. Khalid sahb found this job for me."
"Where do you work?"
"Wajdani Industries, New Orleans. Twisted? I know." But Abbas didn't know they were about to ruin his entire life.
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❝Dil aaj takleef me hai aur takleef dene wala dil me.❞