Alizey's P.O.V.
My smile faltered.
San-? Whose name was he about to take? Or was I just overthinking it and it was a slip of tongue?
Stoic, Fawad made a few trips to the table, setting it with drinks and the food, all the while without looking at me.
I swallowed. "I hope you'll like the shrimp too," I began serving him when he got back up to turn on the TV.
"I'm sure I will," he answered quietly.
We started eating and he politely complimented my cooking before returning to his thoughts.
"When are the bills due each month?" I asked after several minutes of silence.
"You don't need to share them, Alizey. I mean it."
"I want to, and I'm not just saying it," I said seriously. "I always told myself that when I got married, to whoever it was, I'm going to share the expenses. It has nothing to do with you. I just never want to hear a man tell me that I live under their roof or feel like I'm entirely dependent on them. Not that I'm saying you would, but I just don't want that to even be a possible thing. I know how my mom feels when my father's said it, and it's just... really demeaning."
He nodded, wetting his lips. "They're due on the 23rd of every month. You can transfer the payments to my bank account."
"Thank you."
"No worries."
"When's your shift tomorrow? I won't take the keys if you finish before me."
"10-6 PM. That's how it usually is on weekdays unless I request otherwise."
"Oh okay. I'll take the keys then."
He nodded.
We continued eating quietly. After he helped me clean up, I closed the balcony blinds. It hadn't been even three minutes that we were sat in bed when he got up. He grabbed the house keys along with his car keys and pulled on a jacket, "I'm going out for a smoke."
He was already nearly out the door when I murmured, "Okay."
I laid down, his words from earlier echoing in my ears, "F*ck, it's so good, San-"
Who was he talking about?
His ex-girlfriend? He did say he was in a serious relationship before.
Maybe I was thinking too deeply about this. He'd just come home from work. He meets so many people. It could've been anyone.
I glanced at the time on my phone. It had been 10 minutes already.
A sigh left my lips as I switched off the TV and laid back down. I then turned on the morning alarm on my phone.
I wasn't looking forward to Susie questioning why I wasn't wearing a diamond ring anymore. When she finds out I got married, she's going to want to meet Fawad, and on top of that, she's going to want us to join her and Aaron on their friend group's monthly outing. Knowing Fawad, he would never want to go. He could careless about their superficial interests. I, myself, don't.
Fawad's P.O.V.
The pebbles crunched under my shoes as I made my way to the familiar grassy area. The cold breeze spiraling through the night swept past. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, before opening them with a tired sigh. The knot in my chest was still there.
"You're here."
I whirled around at the feminine voice, my eyes softening. "Sa-"
"Why did you come back?"
My face fell, "What do you mean?"
"Shaadi karli usse aakhir. Ab kya? Hamare darmiyaan toh ab kuch bhi nahin."
(You married her at last. Now what? There's nothing left between us)
"Pyaar toh main sirf tumse hi karta hoon, Sana," I stepped closer to her, "Aisey mat kaho. Maine jo bhi kiya, hamare liye kiya. Main yeh shaadi nahin karna chahta tha. Maine majbooran yeh faisla liya. Hamare khaatir."
(I only love you, Sana. Don't talk like that. Whatever I did, I did it for us. I didn't want to get married. I took this decision out of obligation. For us)
"Lekin tum toh bewafa nikle."
(But you turned out to be a cheater)
I shook my head despairingly, "Nahin."
(No)
"Haan. Dekho na, pehle kehte the ke kabhi kisi se shaadi nahin karoge, lekin ab tum nikkah ke do din baad milne aaye ho. Ab woh priority legi na?" She turned around, folding her arms.
(Yes. Look, you used to say you would never get married, but now you have come to meet me two days after getting married. Now she's going to take priority, isn't it?)
"Tumse nazre mila nahin paonga, uske darr se main nahin aaya. Ab mujhse raha nahin gaya," I walked over and stood in front of her, "Haan, ab biwi hai woh meri. Zimmedari hai. Lekin tumhari jagah koi nahin le sakti."
(I didn't come because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to meet eyes with you. Now I couldn't help myself. Yes, she's my wife now. My responsibility. But no one can take your place.)
"Biwi," she repeated sadly with a whisper, lowering her gaze.
(Wife)
"Sana-"
"Tumne kaise usse shaadi karli? Ek baar bhi khayal nahin aayi meri?"
(How could you marry her? Didn't you think of me even once?)
"Ek baar nahin, sau baar, Sana," I told her seriously, "Har pal, har lamha, har ek saans ke saath tumhari khayal aati hai mujhe. Aur har dhadkan ke saath, mera guilt mujh par bojh bante ja raha hai." My eyes watered, "Lekin tum? Yeh naubaat hi nahin aata agar tum mujhe chhod kar nahin jaati toh."
(Not once, but 100 times, Sana. Every second, every moment, with every breath of mine I think of you. And with every heartbeat, my guilt is becoming a burden on me. But you? Things wouldn't have come to this had you not left me)
Her hazel orbs flooded, "Main nahin chahti thi. Lekin ab kya kar sakte hai? Maazi ko wapas nahin la sakte." She sniffled, "Bohat dair ho chuki hai. Mujhe jaana hoga. Musa mere intezaar kar rahe honge."
(I didn't want to. But what can we do now? We can't bring the past back. It's very late now. I have to go. Musa must be waiting for me)
"Sana!" I called hopelessly, watching as she left, "Sana!"
Alizey's P.O.V.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was morning already. Funny, isn't it? The day drags on, feeling like it's never-ending, but then the night slips away like sand between your fingers when you're tired, physically and mentally, and simply just want to sleep.
I hadn't even realized when I'd fallen asleep. I was trying to wait for Fawad, but I'd fallen prey to slumber. I glanced over my shoulder, only to do a double take. He hadn't come home.
I quickly looked over at the table and found the house keys were still gone.
He truly was out all night.
What happened? Was he okay?! He was gone out two nights ago too and returned in the morning. That was our first night, so I kind of understand if he wasn't used to it and wanted time to himself. But he was here all Saturday night. This time he told me before leaving. He said he was going to go out to smoke, which implied he was going to come back. Then? Where was he? What if something happened to him.
I grabbed my phone and searched for his contact then held the phone to my ear, biting on my nail.
Without even a ring, the call went straight to voicemail.
Where was he?!
I called two more times to no avail.
"Where are you? Please call me," I texted him.
He didn't have an iPhone. I had no idea of knowing if he even received my message because it didn't say 'Delivered.'
My eyes glanced at the clock and it had already been 12 minutes since my alarm rang. Maybe I was just overthinking.
But my brain refused to believe it.
My breathing grew heavy as I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I got ready and prayed then resumed trying to call him again. Eating was the last thing on my mind.
Had he gone for a walk to smoke? It's not safe to go out alone in our city at the hour he had left. What if someone hurt him? God forbid. What if he was in the hospital?
Or-or the way he was so quiet...
"We all come here with our allotted times."
"I don't give myself the time to feel tired."
"There is one thing you don't know about him. He overdosed on drugs and alcohol a year ago. This was after Mom reconnected with him... she found him nearly dead in the parking lot of the building."
No no no!
"Ya Allah, reham karein," I breathed frantically.
(have mercy)
I had 10 minutes before I needed to start driving to work. And I was going to spend those 10 minutes to driving around in case I spot him.
I grabbed my purse then began rushing towards the entrance. I pulled the door open only to spot a tired Fawad fumbling with his keys.
He lifted his head and looked at me surprised as air filled my lungs.
"Fawad!" I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, closing my eyes as I buried my face into his shoulder. His arm drew around my waist to keep our balance from the way I nearly jumped at him. My fingers curled around his shirt as I took in his familiar scent. The tension in my limbs fled my body at his comforting smell.
I thanked the Lord profusely for letting my husband return safely.
"Tum thik ho?" I cupped his cheeks, searching his face for any signs of injury.
(Are you okay?)
"I'm fine, Alizey." His eyebrows were tugged together as he responded in a soft tone, taken aback by my distress.
I hugged him again, holding the back of his hand with one hand with my arm arounds his shoulders, letting out a silent deep breath. "Main pareshaan ho gayi thi." My voice grew shaky, "Bure bure khayal aane lagi thi ke tumhe kuch ho gaya hai."
(I became worried. Bad thoughts that something happened to you started coming to me.)
This time, I felt both of his strong arms wrap around my waist. "Kuch nahin hua mujhe, Alizey," he murmured soothingly.
(Nothing happened to me, Alizey)
I stepped away from him, "Where were you?"
He observed my watery eyes for a moment. "Bhatak raha tha."
(Roaming around.)
"What?"
The mischief in his eyes grew clearer, "You call me a ghost, right? That's what they do at night."
I pushed him with a pout, taking the house keys from him before stepping out. He chuckled softly at my actions.
"I went to smoke up in the hills. I fell asleep on the bench," he called after me while I made my way to the elevator. "Take care," I heard the amusement in his voice at me ignoring him.
Take care ke bachche. Meri jaan udaa ke take care bol raha mujhe. Bhoot kahika.
(Son of take care. Nearly giving me a heart attack, he's telling me to take care. Ghost.)
I glanced over my shoulders to make sure no one was looking before pulling up Wattpad on my office computer.
"Hello guys. I know you all have been waiting for the first chapter of 'Ishq ke Azmaish' for a while now. I've seen all your comments, and your interest means the world to me. I wanted to announce that I will be taking a hiatus for about 2-3 months. There are some new changes in my life that I need some time to adjust to. I didn't want you to be waiting without an explanation. But I can't wait to get back into writing and for you all to read my new story. Stay well and lots of love 💫❣️ ChaloJaateHainWahan." Post.
After I get paid this week, I'll pay my monthly student loan and transfer the bill payments to Fawad. I'll see how the rest of the month passes to get a better idea of how much money I'll have for a laptop after any other expenses like groceries, gas, and eating out.
"Aliiizeeey!" Susie sang as she approached.
I quickly exited the browser and opened up some Excel sheets. "Good morning."
"Mornin! How was your wee- Where's your ring?"
I'd called it. She doesn't need to know the whole story, right? "I gave it back."
"What?! The engagement's off?"
"Well-"
"Alizey, Susie," our manager took our names.
"Good morning, Mr. Phillips," we both greeted simultaneously after I stood up.
"Good morning. I was wanting you to meet the newest addition to our company," he stepped aside, revealing a tall, blue-eyed, and dark-haired man with light stubble and an oval-shaped face. "This is Irtaza Iqbal."
"Hi," he gave a curt nod in a shy manner.
I flashed a smile while Susie returned the greeting.
"I was wanting to ask you if you could train him on how to use our programs, Alizey. Do you think you can put some time aside to do that?"
Trick question. When your boss asks you if you have time to do a task for them, the answer is always 'Yes.' Especially if they are nice and lenient with you.
"Of course," I nodded.
"Great. Thank you, Alizey. His cubicle is over there," he pointed at a desk three rows down the maze. "You two can figure out what works best for you, if you want to help him there or have him pull up a chair next to you for now, etcetera."
"Sure."
He gave me a nod before patting Irtaza's shoulder, "I'll check in with you later. I'm getting late for a meeting. Have a great first day."
"I'll leave you to it, but we have to talk later," Susie said before walking off.
"Hi. Are you also an accountant?" I asked Irtaza.
"No. I'm actually a software engineer."
"Oh. Are you going to be a part of the IT department?"
"Yeah. Mr. Phillips really wants me to help set up a dashboard and manage the cloud."
I chuckled, "Yeah, I don't really know too much about that. I just make the reports."
He laughed softly. "If you could show me the types of reports you make and the database programs you use, it'll help me out a lot."
"Of course."
"Are you Pakistani?"
"I am. You?"
"Me too. I actually came from Islamabad to live with my uncle and his family last month while I do my masters. I just got this job."
"Oh! Nice."
We continued getting to know each other as he sat next to me while I showed him the software I use to pull data. He was 26 and an only child. He hailed from a decent well-off family that has a dairy factory.
After praying Maghrib, I took out some frozen parathas and began heating them up on the stove when I heard the door starting to unlock.
As I began panicking, I relaxed at the sight of Fawad.
"I got extra keys from the landlord this morning," he explained, noticing the worried look on my face.
I turned my head and focused on the pan in front of me, flipping the bread.
He stared at me for a moment longer then came inside. I plated our dishes with the parathas then opened the fridge to take out yesterday's chicken. I glanced at him through the reflection on the microwave after popping in the container.
"Smells good," he commented, taking out his pajamas from the armoire.
I shifted my gaze when I saw him look at me through the reflection.
He went into the restroom, and I heard the showerhead turn on. When it turned off, I brought everything to the table. I turned around to get a serving spoon when I bumped into Fawad's hard chest.
"Khafa ho mujhse."
(You're upset with me.)
Agar tumhe pata hota ke jiss surat ko dekh kar mera din ban jaata hai, ussey khona ke dar se meri halaat kya ho gayi thi, tab phir samajhte tum ke khafa kyun hoon main tumse.
(If you knew what condition I was in when I got scared of losing the face that makes my day, then you would understand why I am upset at you)
I stepped around him to go to the kitchen corridor, but I was held back as I felt his hand around my wrist. "Alizey."
I turned around to look at him.
"Baat kyun nahin kar rahi ho mujhse?"
(Why aren't you talking to me?)
"Aisi baat nahin hai," I said quietly, removing his hand before going to the utensils' drawer.
(It's not like that)
I heard him follow me. "Is it because I came back in the morning?"
"You told me you were going to go smoke. I thought you were going to come back." I turned around to look at him. "I fell asleep waiting for you, and when I woke up and saw you still weren't back, I got scared." My eyes watered against my will, "Mujhe pata hai ke yeh nikkah tumhare liye bas ek saal ka mamla hai, lekin, at the end of the day, mera shohar ho tum, Fawad. Aur shohar se pehle, hamari ek dosti banne lagi thi. Parwah rehti hai mujhe tumhari. Shaadi se pehle akele rehte the, kisi ke baarein mein sochta nahin padta tha, kisi ke jawaabde nahin the, lekin ab... ab main hoon."
(I know this marriage is just a matter of one year for you, but, at the end of the day, you are my husband, Fawad. And before becoming my husband, we were developing a friendship. I care about you. Before marriage, you lived alone, you didn't have to think about others, you weren't answerable to others, but now... now I'm here)
There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I stopped my heart from spilling its contents. I just want him to know that I care for him and that I am there for him.
Fawad stared at my eyes intently.
"I was just worried," I told him softly, "I'm sor-"
"I'm sorry."
I closed my mouth, looking up at him.
"I didn't mean to worry you like that," he added.
My features softened.
Poof. Gone. Just like that. Uske narmi ke aage meri narazgi haar jaati hai, mere na chah kar bhi.
(My anger loses against his gentleness, even if I don't want it)
His lips remained parted for a long moment, his gaze lowered, as though he wanted to say more. But the words never left his mouth. He swallowed hard, as though suppressing his thoughts. "Let's eat now?" he murmured.
I nodded, grabbing the spoon and following him back to the table. "Are you more of a naan guy or paratha kind of guy?" I asked awkwardly while taking the liberty to serve him a helping of the chicken curry. I was trying to lighten the mood by changing the subject.
"I wouldn't complain about either."
"I see. I'm more of a paratha kind of gal. These are great," I referred to the warm bread resting on our plates, "but wait until you try my mom's. They're amazing."
"I haven't had these in a while, and I'm sure they are," he responded quietly.
I gave him a smile before we both started eating. I asked him about his day then told him about mine and how I spent most of it training Irtaza.
I was nearing the end of my paratha when I finished my portion of the chicken curry. I got up and returned with the jar of sugar, sprinkling a tiny bit over the remaining bread. Fawad's lips twitched into a small smile.
"I used to eat my parathas like this when I was kid."
"I did too."
I smiled, "Do you want some sugar?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but paused, looking like he was overtaken by his thoughts. His smile then faded.
"Kya hua?" I asked softly.
(What happened?)
He shook his head. He brought his plate closer, and I poured a small teaspoon on the side.
I sat back down and nibbled on my remaining bread while watching my husband. Fawad's light brown orbs were trained on the table top as he ate, ripping pieces of the paratha and coating them in the sugar.
My heart sank when I could've sworn his eyes grew wet. "Fa-"
He stood up, collecting our empty plates and utensils. "Let me clean up. You can't do everything."
I didn't protest. I remained sat on the chair, staring at his back as he washed the dishes. He was running away from his thoughts again, trying to keep busy. But what was it? What bothers him so much that his mind is relentlessly, constantly on? What is it that he can't take a break from?
I finally washed my hand and put away the sugar jar while he went to throw out the trash.
He was back and washing his hands when I grabbed my hijab and prayer mat. I looked at Fawad silently. I hadn't seen him pray. I refrained from asking if he wanted to. He already seemed troubled. I didn't want to cross any boundaries.
"I left my phone in the car," he told me quietly before going towards the door with his keys.
I nodded before stepping onto the prayer mat. After I finished, I remained sat and lifted my hands up in supplication, asking my Lord for Fawad's troubles, whatever they may be, to disappear. For him to find peace. For him to find comfort and a friend in me so he could share what's on his mind with someone. For him to find a spark in life again. For him to grow closer to his Maker.
I also asked for ease, my family to forgive me and come around, and help in navigating my marriage with Fawad.
He returned by the time I wiped my face with my hands. I could smell hints of cigarette smoke on him as he walked past.
"Will Haadi be there tomorrow?" I asked Fawad softly after putting my things away.
Our meeting with the lawyer was tomorrow at 1:30 PM at his family home. I would be leaving work early while Fawad was taking the day off.
"He'll be in school. He won't get home until four... I was thinking I could drop you in the morning and pick you up at 12 that way you won't need to take your car."
"That sounds good. Where's their house?"
"Beverly Hills," he told me while lifting up the comforter.
I wasn't too surprised. From the brief information Fawad gave me, Rangila Aunty, Haadi's mother, would not have to worry about finances for the rest of her life because of how financially secure Haroon Uncle was.
I joined him under the covers after turning off the lights and observed as he flipped through different TV channels. We settled on an old comedy movie, but neither of us were actually watching it. When it turned off and when we were surrounded by darkness, I don't know. We laid there in silence until I heard Fawad speak.
"Aadat hai, Alizey."
(It's a habit)
I turned my head towards him, trying to make out his features in the dark.
"Sometimes I start feeling suffocated at home... I stay out until I can breathe again."
"What makes you feel like that?" I asked softly.
"Myself."
He was running from himself. From his thoughts. Why?
As I tried to figure out how to respond, he turned and faced the armoires. "It's getting late. You need to sleep. Good night," he murmured.
He didn't want to talk about it anymore.
"Good night," I whispered.
I moved closer to the edge of my pillow, my mind repeating my husband's words over and over again as the minutes passed. When I felt like running from myself, he had grown to be the person that gave me peace. Just spending some time with him made me feel better.
My eyelids started drooping while I listened to Fawad's steady breathing. He was asleep.
My hand reached out towards him. I drew a heart on his back with the tip of my index finger.
To hear your favorite person speak about himself in a self-deprecating manner was disheartening.
It was when I felt movement under my hand did I realize I had fallen asleep. I retreated my hand and began turning around but paused when I felt the bed twitch.
I squinted at Fawad over my shoulder as his breathing grew uneven. He turned onto his back, his forehead creased. He then shook his head slightly.
He was having a nightmare.
"Fawad," I called gently.
He paused in his distressed state.
I drew closer, "Fawad."
His chest lifted up and down quickly. I placed my hand on the center of his chest, caressing his cheek with the other, "Fawad."
His eyes opened slowly, and he looked around taking in his surroundings before running his fingers through his hair as he slowed his breathing.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"Let me get you some water," I said while pushing myself off the bed.
He sat up and took a few sips when I returned to him with the glass. I got back into bed after putting it away. I placed my hand on his shoulder, watching as he remained sat. "It was just a nightmare," I told him softly.
Fawad's P.O.V.
I was contemplating on whether to go out or stay for Alizey. I knew I wouldn't come back until the morning, but I'd already made her upset today because of the same.
I forced myself to lay back down.
These nightmares... you would think you would get used to them after getting them so often, but it hasn't gotten any better.
"Relax, Fawad," Alizey murmured sympathetically.
I looked at her innocent face studying me with concern.
But there was one thing I could not deny. The feeling of peace that I felt when I woke up to her hand on my chest. Her touch acted like a source of coolness against the molten turmoil that was inside my chest from the blistering nightmare.
I watched as Alizey tucked the blanket around me. "Go back to sleep," she whispered.
My eyes closed at her words. I waited a few minutes before opening them slightly to find her eyes shut. I ignored the thoughts telling me I was being selfish and reached for her hand, holding it to the center of my chest.
Her touch soothed my anxious heart, calming me down from the adrenaline that made me feel on edge.
Perhaps, she will think I did it in my sleep.
Alizey's P.O.V.
I was pretty sure he was asleep, but I couldn't help but relish the feeling of his large hand encapsulating mine as it rested on his chest. I fell asleep, imagining what it would be like if he were to have done it willingly.
"What are you having for lunch?" Irtaza asked me.
I'd spent the last few hours at work training him again. We were now nearing 12 PM.
"Do you recommend any of the places downstairs?"
"I love the Thai place at the end of the plaza," Susie chimed in, appearing behind us.
"What about you, Alizey?" Irtaza questioned with a smile, "Do you guys want to go there for lunch?"
I stood up, grabbing my bag after logging off my computer quickly. "I, uh, I'm actually leaving early today. I have an appointment. For something."
"You're leaving now?" Susie lifted an eyebrow.
"Yeah. It's at 1:30. I need to start heading out now."
"Oh. Okay. Well, I'll head down with you," Susie retorted quickly, on my case. "I actually ordered pickup from the pho place two blocks down. Maybe we can all go tomorrow, Irtaza?"
He nodded.
Oh no. Fawad must be waiting for me in the lobby.
"See you," I told Irtaza before going to clock out, Susie following me like a shadow.
"What kind of an appointment is it?"
"Just something to do with my family. I'm not too sure."
She nodded, unconvinced. "So-" Her eyebrows furrowed when she noticed I'd only pressed the button for the first floor and not for the underground parking garage after we stepped onto the elevator. "Are you taking the bus?"
"Uh, no. Someone's coming to pick me up."
"Your dad?"
"No."
"What happened to your fiancé, Alizey? You haven't been wearing your ring anymore."
"Oh," I looked down at my bare hand, "That. I, uh-" my phone vibrated. I took it out of my bag and found a text from Fawad confirming that he was indeed waiting for me in the lobby.
"I've told Victoria and the whole group about you. They were expecting you to join us for our monthly outings soon, but I get it if you guys broke up. It happens... but it's quite unfortunate. It was such a pretty ring."
The elevator door opened, and I found Fawad near the entrance. He began walking towards the elevators after spotting me.
"What was his name? What did he do? A Tiffany ring like that, he was, what, a consultant? Data analyst?" we stepped out. "Maybe you guys could get back together, that is if you guys broke up. You know you can tell me everything, right? I won't tell anyone," she looked at Fawad skeptically, "Do you know him?"
Fawad's eyes shifted from my face to Susie's then back to mine. "Hi," he greeted me.
"Hi," I gave him a small smile. "Fawad, this is Susie, my coworker. Susie, this is Fawad, my husband."
Susie's lips parted in surprise.
"Nice to meet you. Alizey's told me a lot about you," my husband gave her a polite, curt nod.
She perked up, gathering herself. She extended her manicured hand, accessorized with a Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet and a gold Cartier ring. "The pleasure's all mine." She nudged me with her elbow. "You didn't tell me you got married! All this while, I thought you and your fiancé broke up!"
I laughed awkwardly, my smile fading with jealousy as I watched Fawad shake her hand briefly. "It was an intimate wedding. Not too many people know yet."
Fawad then took my hand, linking our fingers as he pulled me into his side protectively.
"Well, congratulations, you two! I'm so glad I bumped into you. I was telling Alizey that the office girls and our boyfriends would love to have her and her... husband... join us for our monthly night out."
"Maybe next month, Susie," I tried to reason, "We're still kind of adjusting to things so-"
"Oh c'mon! Try to make it. It's the last Friday of this month. Aaron made reservations at an omakase restaurant. It's even better than Nobu. We went there for our anniversary and thought you guys just have to try it!" She turned to Fawad, "Aaron's my boyfriend. We've been together for two years. He's an investment banker. What do you do?"
"I'm a mechanical engineer," he stated nonchalantly.
My eyes lowered. We were having to say so many lies ever since we got married.
"Nice. What company do you work for?"
He named the local mechanic shop he works for.
"Oh. I don't think I've ever heard of that company before-"
"I think we're getting late for our appointment. Sorry, Susie. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
She nodded. "It was nice meeting you, Fawad. See you, Alizey."
I flashed a smile before Fawad and I began walking towards the doors. As we walked to his car, I looked up at him, asking softly, "Why did you say you're a mechanical engineer?"
"I'm not too sure you would have been able to save face in front of your friend otherwise."
"I wouldn't have been embarrassed, Fawad," I told him seriously, "I don't care about what she would have thought. There's nothing wrong with being a mechanic, and you're really good at what you do."
He looked down at me, his eyes softer. "Thank you." He turned his head as we continued walking, "But I care about people respecting you. I didn't want there to be an opportunity for her not to."
A smile tugged on my lips, and it was then when I realized we were still holding hands. I didn't say anything, letting myself go back to the fantasy that all of this was real.
Fawad's P.O.V.
Alizey's eyebrows lifted as we pulled up to the black gates of the large house I had spent my teenage years in.
I rolled down the window and reached for the button to request access.
"Until when you did you live here?"
"18."
"Where did you g-" she stopped when the gates began opening. "Siraj Uncle's house isn't too far from here. It's three streets down and more down the hill."
"We could go there after if you would like," I teased, parking behind the white Range Rover, black Tesla, and the lawyer's grey Mercedes.
She widened her eyes, amused, before pushing my arm lightly. I chuckled while unlocking the doors.
We reconvened at the entrance when I turned to Alizey, a manila envelope containing our marriage certificates in hand. I took her delicate hand with my free one and laced our fingers. "Stay close to me... And if she says anything rude to you, let me know."
She nodded before I reached for the doorbell.
The door swung open a minute later, revealing my step-mother in a floral maroon and black salwar kameez, her dupatta loosely wrapped around her head. "Fawad!" she pushed a formal smile to her lips.
"Assalamwalaikum."
"Assalamwalaikum," Alizey repeated after me.
"Walaikumsalam," she studied Alizey skeptically, maintaining her polite expression. "You must be Alizey. Haadi was telling me about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She then glanced at me, remarking snidely, "Had I known Fawad was going to marry, I would have definitely attended the nikkah. Lekin Fawad kahan kisi ko kuch batata hai. Tumhe toh pata hi hoga."
(But where does Fawad tell anyone anything. You must know about this habit of his)
"Sab kuch itne jaldi mein ho gaye the, iss liye bata nahin paaya," Alizey defended me politely.
(Everything happened so quickly that we weren't able to tell you)
"Hmm. Maine suna. Khair, baahir kyun khare ho tum dono? Andar aa jao. The lawyer is here."
(I heard. Anyway, why are you two still standing outside? Come inside)
Alizey's eyes traveled through the foyer and across the family photos hung around the walls amongst the decoration pieces. They were mostly of my father with Haadi and his mother. There were two of them featuring all four of us. I watched as a small smile appeared on Alizey's lips as she spotted me in the picture where I was 17 years-old.
The lawyer stood up and greeted us when we reached the living room. I presented him with my marriage documents, and he began briefing us on everything. After approximately thirty minutes, he began filling out the necessary paperwork.
"Would you like any refreshments?" Rangila Aunty asked.
"I'm fine," I responded.
"That's alright. Thank you," Alizey answered.
"Why? Marisol!" Rangila Aunty summoned her house-help. Marisol appeared by her side a minute later. "You've come to our house for the first time, Alizey. I've arranged for some snacks in the kitchen. Marisol will serve you. Please have some, otherwise I will mind."
Alizey looked at me in question, and I blinked slowly, signaling for her to go if she would like. She smiled at Haadi's mother then followed Marisol.
Rangila Aunty approached me, a smirk on her lips as she folded her arms, "Toh aakhir shaadi karli tumne, Fawad. Itni kya majboori thi ke tumne apne hi baaton se mukar gaye?"
(So you've married after all, Fawad. What was such an obligation that you went back on your own words?)
"Main aap ko jawaabde nahin hoon."
(I am not answerable to you)
She snickered. "Pata tha nahin baataoge. Nikkah karli aur woh bhi nahin baataya tumne. Mujhe Haadi se sunna pada. Abhi tak rishte sambhalne nahin aaya tumhe," her sly smile grew subtly, "Tumhare Baba chahte the hum ek khandaan ban ke rah-"
(I knew you wouldn't tell me. You got married and didn't even tell me that. I had to hear from Haadi. You still haven't learned to take care of relationships. Your Baba wanted us to live like a family-)
"Khandaan ke baare mein aap baat mat karein toh behtar hai." I then glanced in the direction of the kitchen to see if Alizey was coming back yet.
(It's better if you don't talk about family)
"Thik hai," she shrugged. "Par yeh batao, woh kahan se aayi hai? Sadak se utha kar lekar aaye ho tumhare paison ke liye ya phir sach mein mohabbat ho gayi hai usse?"
(Fine. But tell me, where did she come from? Did you pick her off the streets for your money or did you truly fall in love with her?)
My hands balled into fists at the derogatory remark about Alizey.
"Kyunki saalon se tum shaadi ke naam sunne ke liye tayaar hi nahin the, aur ab-"
(Because for years you weren't even ready to hear the word 'marriage,' but now-)
"Mohabbat hai usse," I said as a ruse, watching Alizey return with a small plate of appetizers. "Aur jo bhi khandaan hai, sirf woh hi hai."
(I love her. And whatever family I have, it's only her)
Rangila Aunty chuckled softly. "Chalo. Achcha laga sunkar." She turned her head when her eyes got stuck on my father's picture on the wall, her voice now somber, "Shayad tumhare Baba ke rooh ko ab sukoon mil jayenge."
(Very well. It felt nice to hear. Perhaps now your Baba's soul will find peace)
I reflected on her words until Alizey reached me. She lifted the plate towards me, looking up at me with her innocent doe-eyes as she whispered, "There were chicken seekh kebabs and mini samosas. I thought you would like some." She glanced at Rangila Aunty over my shoulder then looked at the food. She picked a kebab with her fingers and brought it to my lips.
I placed my hand on her lower back gently after I swallowed the bite. "Did you eat?"
She shook her head timidly, looking down at my arm.
I slithered my arm around her waist, bringing her closer to me before reaching for a mini samosa and feeding her.
No one cares for me the way she does. I know I'm not the easiest to be around, yet she's still sticking by me when I've never given her a single reason to. Haadi's mother making that comment about her created the impulse in me to keep her close and away from everyone. I don't understand how people find it so f*cking easy to pass a comment about her and not give two sh*ts.
I gave into my protective urge and pecked her temple.
Alizey's P.O.V.
I looked up at Fawad, my eyes melting with affection at the man causing my heart to flutter. It was just an act, but my insides turned warm nonetheless.
Our heads then turned to the lawyer as he asked if Fawad wants to receive the $3.5 million in installments or all together. He chose the latter, while I nearly choked on the samosa I was chewing on.
$3,500,000?!
"Mr. Raza, please fill out this form with your bank account information," he handed my husband a document, "I will be needing your signatures for these other papers as well so you can receive the lump sum."
Fawad nodded, removing his arm from around me and taking the pen and stack of papers.
$3,500,000?!?! How much is the property worth that he wants the money for?!
"Tumhari hairaani main tumhare chehre par pad sakti hoon. Haadi ke baba ke inteqaal ke baad main chahti thi yeh ghar bhi tumhara shohar ke naam kardoon, lekin usse inn cheezon mein koi dilchaspi hi nahin tha. Ab tum aa gayi ho, toh shayad cheezein ab badal gaye hai," Rangila Aunty said to me quietly with a sneer.
(I can read your surprise on your face. After Haadi's father passed away, I wanted to transfer this house to your husband's name as well, but he has no interest in these things. Now that you're here, perhaps things have changed)
I forced a small smile.
She scanned the place, "Itne saal main iss ghar ko sambhal ke aayi hoon. Haroon ne kharida tha hamare nikkah se pehle. Main toh hamesha hi kehti hoon ke Fawad hamare saath agar rehta toh kitna achcha hota, aakhir uska bhi haq hai iss ghar pe. Yeh ab tumhara bhi sasural hai. Ek saath rehne ka maza, Fawad ko kya maloom. Ussey toh apna hi cozy flat pasand hai. Kahan fursat hai ussey hum sab se milne ka. Ussey toh door door rehna hi achcha lagta hai."
(I've taken care of this house for years. Haroon bought it before our marriage. I always say that it would be so nice if Fawad lived with us too, he has the right after all. It's also your in-laws' house. What does Fawad know about the joy of living together? He likes his cozy flat. Where does he have the time to meet us? He likes to stay distant from us)
An indirect warning that this was her territory and taunts pertaining to Fawad. Rangila Aunty definitely had a way with her words.
"Bohat khubsurati se sajaya hai aap ne, Aunty. Shukriya aap ne kaha aap ke saath rehne ke liye. Mujhe umeed hai ke ab aana jaana lage rahenge. Aur sahi kaha aap ne. Mujhe aur Fawad ko bohat pasand hai hamare flat. Cozy hai, lekin mere shohar ke waje se, hamare saath ke waje se, woh ghar, ghar lagta hai. Apne lagta hai," the contempt grew in her eyes as I continued politely, "Aur aise nahin hai, mera shohar unn logon ke liye waqt zaroor nikaalta hai jo ussey qadr karta hai, jinn se ussey mohabbat hai. Jaise ke Haadi."
(You have decorated it beautifully, Aunty. Thank you for telling us to live with you. I hope that we will be visiting more often. And you're right. Fawad and I really like our flat. It is cozy, but because of my husband, our togetherness, that home feels like a home. It feels like our own. And it's not like that, my husband makes time for those who value him, for those he loves. Like Haadi)
I caught Fawad smirking and glancing down while he finished signing the papers.
"Bilqul," Aunty smiled tightly. "Haadi ko apne bade bhai se bohat pyaar hai."
(Of course. Haadi loves his elder brother a lot)
"Aur Fawad bhi uss par jaan chhirakta hai. Ussey zaroor kahein ke humne ussey yaad kiya aur jald hi milenge."
(And Fawad also would do anything for him. Definitely do tell him we missed him and will meet him soon)
"Zaroor."
(Definitely)
The lawyer collected the documents from Fawad and told him that he would be in touch and that the money should be received within the next seven business days. Marisol came around and took all the empty plates while I went to Fawad. We followed the lawyer out, bidding Rangila Aunty a formal farewell.
While Fawad drove, I kept silent, thinking about how his step-mother possessed the power to slice someone with words without them even knowing it.
"You have a lot of questions, don't you?"
I turned my head to look at Fawad.
"We can talk about it during dinner. I was thinking we could eat out tonight."
I perked up, "Where do you want to go?"
"Korean barbecue. You told me you like it. We could also do something before dinner. It's too early for food."
Why did this sound like a date?