Farjaad made his way down the stairs, almost stumbling in his rush to leave the house, when he heard his mom, "Farjaad baby, araam se! Kahaan jaarahe ho itni jaldbaazi mein?"
He slowed his pace and went up to her, she had just come out of the living room, "Maa, woh bass aaj party hai toh venue hi jaa raha tha." She looked at him, concerned, "Waise tum din ba din Umeed jaise hote jaarahe ho, itni speed se kaun neeche aata hai?" Farjaad wanted to smile even though he knew his mother didn't exactly mean that as a compliment. However, to him, to be like Umeed, to personify even a fraction of who she was, was praise of the highest order.
Hugging her sideways, he tried to dodge her observation, "Chorhein na maa, bass deir ho rahi thi thorhi." She glanced at the clock on the wall, "Sirf 5 bajj rahe hain, isn't the event at 7? Abhi toh bahot time hai aur what is this party? Aaj se pehle toh tumne kabhi apne kisi bhi investment ya business venture ke liye parties nahi organize ki hain."
He shook his head, fixing his hair in the mirror in the hall, "Well, aap toh rakhti thi na iss tarah ke celebrations, just took a page from your book." His mom didn't know how to respond to that, it was true. She always threw parties for Farjaad and his dad, made sure they had a relationship with their associates outside of work. Farjaad kissed her cheek, Niggo was not expecting that, "Trust me, maa." He walked out, almost a skip in his step, and if his mother was concerned or afraid, she tried her best not to show it.
Farjaad had conveniently left out the part about how he was going to see Umeed first, pick her up and reach with her. He had already gone to the venue early in the day, spoken to the event coordinator multiple times, and confirmed the menu. He just wanted to spend some time with her, which he had been doing a lot of the past couple of days.
So much so in fact that Umeed had shoved her extra room key into his wallet, declaring, "Har waqt aajaate hain, baar baar darwaaza kholne mein aalas aati hai mujhe. Khud hi andar aaya karein, naukar nahi hoon mai aapki." She had jutted her chin out that one way she does, her eyes mid-roll, as if this was the gravest inconvenience ever to her. They both knew it was her way of telling him that he could come anytime.
It had taken him ages to decide what to wear, he had called Umeed multiple times, "Will blue go with your outfit?" and then, when she told him to just tell her what colour he is wearing and she would figure the rest out, he called her every few minutes, "Actually, grey?" "Or pinstripes?"
Until she had threatened to block him.
He had eventually settled on the safest option, black. All black. He had decided to forego his usual formal tie and to leave the first two buttons of his shirt open, he was trying to look charming, welcoming, whatever he thought hosts were supposed to look like.
Umeed struggled to drape the saree she had so excitedly spent a bombshell on. The pure silk slipped between her fingers as she tried for the millionth time to make sense of what the lady in the YouTube video was saying. She remembered a photo of her mother wearing a similar gold saree glistening like the sun, effortlessly. She was holding on to Umeed, who was old enough to walk but never wanted to leave her mother's arms.
She had hunted and hunted for a similar saree, hoping to emulate even a quarter of the class and grace her mother did. She was failing miserably. "Ya Allah," she sighed, the saree coming undone, again. She didn't know how her mother was able to hold an entire child the whole time and still keep every pleat in place.
After hours of trying, she was finally able to get somewhere. At the very least, she felt like the fabric was secure, more or less. She turned around to get a full look of herself in the mirror, her blouse was gold too, sleeves till her wrists, matching her saree.
She looked at her back, just the bejewelled tassels holding everything together at the top, her back bare, and a thin strap of gold, hardly visible, making up the bottom of the blouse. She had to admit, she looked good.
Glancing at the time, she hurried to put on her makeup and fix up her hair, Farjaad would be here any second and she was in no mood to be nagged about how late she was making him.
He tapped the room key and walked into the room almost like he owned it, extremely comfortable, not looking up from his phone, this was routine. He only called out, "Umeed?" making sure she was there, settling on the couch when he heard her "Haan," not glancing up to look at her, entirely engrossed in reading the article he had found about the importance of ice baths.
Umeed was struggling to put on the earrings she had picked out, she had had no time to glance at Farjaad, she knew if she didn't hurry up, he would start rambling and it almost seemed like she manifested it because the next second she heard, "Jaldi ready ho yaar, humein nikalna hai." She had learnt to tune out his little orders, they didn't have much of an effect on her anymore. She was well aware he wouldn't be budging till she said so anyway.
Right as she was about to clasp the other earring shut, it fell right out, hitting the wooden floor, she let out a tiny scream, today was so not her day. "Kya hua? Are you okay—" Farjaad's eyes finally moved from his phone, upwards, to the other corner of the room where Umeed was getting ready. His lips parted in awe, her back was facing him, the rest of her was draped in a cool-toned gold silk, she was staring at the earring on the floor, probably wishing it would levitate itself back to her, not wanted to move around too much in the tedious outfit she had picked out for herself.
He hadn't even been aware enough to will his legs to move towards her but in a second, he was there, picking up the earring, looking at her through the mirror. Umeed looked at him, taking him in for the first time since he had come. His chest peeked out at her through his black shirt, a black blazer, perfectly tailored resting over his shoulders, she could see why black was his favourite colour.
In that moment, it seemed to be hers too.
She noticed his gaze, drifting from her eyes, scanning her from top to bottom, lingering at her exposed back, his tongue gliding across his lower lip, doing that thing she despised because it made her weak in the knees and she could feel the heat creep up her neck. He gently brought his fingers closer, tracing her neck, caressing her earlobe, putting the earring in place with ease.
"Iske peeche ka?" Farjaad inquired, still staring at her through the mirror, his voice a little too close, his breath fanning her neck.
She gulped, a little nervous because of the way he was looking at her, "Backless blouse banwaya tha, thought it would look nice..." she mumbled.
His lips broke into a smile, she could see he was trying not to laugh, "Umeed, earring ke peeche ka piece maang raha hoon." She felt herself turn scarlet, flustered, quickly handing him the back of her earring and he clasped it shut.
"Mujhe aise na dekhein, main nervous horahi hoon," she looked at the mess on the dresser in front of her, anywhere to avoid his eyes. "Aap nervous bhi hoti hain?" He couldn't look away. She looked stunning, the red lipstick on her was doing things to him, making his heart want to beat out of his chest, "Farjaad, humein deir nahi horahi thi?" She spoke, assertive, trying to make a point.
His hands laced around her waist, he nuzzled his face into her neck, his stubble grazing her exposed back. She shivered in response to his cold hands making contact with her skin, "Waise, itni bhi deir nahi horahi hai..."
She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him, always so predictable, "Farjaaaad," she whined, "Shut up."
He gently rubbed his thumb against her back, right below the narrow strap of her blouse, "Soch lo ek dafa, thorha sa fashionably late hojayenge." Umeed averted her eyes from him again, the way he was biting his lip, the way his eyes would not leave her, his gaze so intense, made her feel shy, almost vulnerable.
She gently slapped his face to the side, trying to make him stop looking at her, "Farjaad, baaz aajayein. Mujhe tayyar hone dein." She shook her head, realizing he was not listening as she turned back to the mirror to finish getting ready. His eyes wouldn't leave her neck, her waist, her back.
He held her by the shoulders, turning her around slowly, she could see his breaths were slow and heavy, she couldn't look away from his chest. He tucked the strand of hair that was disrupting his view of her face behind her ear, caressing her chin, urging her to look at him. He leaned in, rubbing his nose against hers, looking into her eyes.
"You're breathtaking," he whispered against her lips, kissing her, his lips moving urgently. Her hands made their way into his hair, tugging on his strands, she could feel his palm slide against her back. Her lips parted in response, he held her tighter, deepening the kiss.
Farjaad had her pressed up against the dresser, she leaned on it for support, her lips grazing over his chin and his neck as he moaned into her hair. Umeed's eyes closed shut when he began nibbling on her earlobe, his hands running all over her back, desperate to tug on the tassels and undo her blouse. At this point, he was ready to forego the party altogether.
She felt him reach for her saree and in half second, she spun out of his grip, slapping his hand away, her index finger raised to his face, "Farjaad! Khabardaar jo saree ko haath lagaane ki koshish bhi ki aapne. It took me two hours to put it on."
He made a face, almost whining, Umeed tried not to laugh at the state of him. He had red lipstick smeared across his lips, his chin, his neck. His hair was an absolute mess, he looked nowhere close to the put together CEO that had shown up to her hotel room.
Farjaad hooked his index finger with hers, still staring at her, dazed, "Jo bhi ho, we are leaving the party early." She giggled, pulling her finger back down, "Haan, haan, theek hai. Apni shakal toh theek karlein pehle." That's when he glanced at himself in the mirror, he looked ridiculous. He noticed her hair was disheveled too, her lipstick smudged and lighter than it had been before. Well, of course, now that it was all over him.
"Yaar, ye mitt kyu nahi rahi hai?" He complained as he tried to rub the lipstick stains off with his thumb. Umeed glanced over at him in the mirror as she reapplied her lipstick. She rolled her eyes at him, "Farjaad, kabhi khud bhi kuch karliya karein. Come here," she reached for a makeup wipe, gently removing the bright red off his skin.
He held on to her waist, feeling her back again any chance he could, admiring her while she fixed him up. Farjaad could feel butterflies thinking about how tonight everything would finally go back to how it used to. It would all be perfect again. She pushed a hairbrush towards him, "Here, fix your hair now. Humein sach mein bahot deir horahi hai."
Once they were finally looking presentable again and not like they had walked through a hurricane, Umeed handed him a safety pin. "Please isko yahan laga dein," she stretched out the fabric on her shoulder, wanting to secure everything in place as much as she could. "Yahaan already pin lagi hui hai," he mentioned as he tried to push it in. "Mujhe ek aur lagaani hai, I'm so scared this whole look is going to fall apart," she blinked impatiently as he managed to pin it in place.
He smirked, squeezing her hand, "I wouldn't mind." She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips barely concealing a smile, "One track mind, as always." He smiled back at her unabashedly, refusing to dispute her accusation.
Umeed rushed to grab her heels, he followed her instinctively, she stood by the gold strappy heels observing them. "Kya hua hai? You don't like them?" She sighed, "Yaar, I can't bend down in all this," gesturing at the saree, "to put these on properly." He knelt down without wasting a breath, slipping on one heel, and then the other, fastening the straps for her effortlessly. She smiled at the sight of him, lingering a second while holding her foot.
"Let's go?" He got up, grabbing his keys.
"Yes, sab leliya maine..." she asked herself, mumbling, "Purse...lipstick..."
They finally left for the venue. The car ride was interesting, the both of them stealing glances at each other, pretending like this wasn't the millionth time they had been together in a car, there was something in the air. Umeed couldn't stop looking at Farjaad, dressed down as opposed to his usual buttoned to the throat look. She could see he was barely keeping it together every time he looked over at her, his tongue grazing his bottom lip gently, that smile she knew all too well gracing his face, conveying every one of his intentions.
He wouldn't leave her hand, using it often to shift gears, his other hand resting on the steering wheel. There was an unspoken comfort, an understanding, that this was okay, this was nice, how things were supposed to be.
When they were stopped at a traffic light, he kissed her hand gently, not sure how else to convey the overwhelming desire and adoration he felt towards her. Hearing a light knock, his attention turned to his window, a boy selling gajre stared back at him, eyes sparkling. Farjaad pulled down his window, buying a pair for her. Umeed watched on excitedly, she loved gajre and he knew.
She wondered if the gajre he had given her throughout the time they had been dating before were still kept in the box she had in her cupboard. A little vault of all the things Farjaad ever gave her, of little notes, of receipts of the multitude of dates that they had been on.
"Allah aapki jodi salaamat rakhe," the boy smiled at Farjaad as he handed him the cash. Farjaad looked over at her, the same boyish grin on his face, "Ameen."
The traffic light had turned green but he parked the car to the side, "Farjaad, deir horahi hai," she started. "Itni bhi nahin," he completed. He reached for her wrists, slipping the gajre on one by one, kissing each hand slowly, they went perfectly with her saree. She looked even more beautiful, ethereal, he wondered how that was possible.
"Suno, apni nazar utarwa lena. Kisi aur ki na bhi lage, dar lagra hai mujhe meri hi na lag jaaye," he rubbed circles onto the back of her hand as she hummed back in response. "Waise, mohabbat karne waalo ki nahi lagti hai," she replied, assuring him.
"Acha? Aise phir meri saari mohabbatein aapke naam," he looked into her big doe eyes, he knew she was biting back a smile.
"Har waqt line maarte rehte hain, sadak pe dhyaan dein," she gently turned his face back to the road, the both of them laughing, hearts full.
***
"Chalein?" He asked, looking at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Her mind added, Mrs. Farjaad Khan, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips, he couldn't read her face.
They were stood outside the venue, large wooden doors facing them, ready to head inside to the party, the faint sound of jazz music filling the atmosphere.
"Do I look okay?" Umeed asked him once, nervously checking the pleats on her saree.
He stopped to stare at her, almost flabbergasted, "Umeed? Okay? Nahi, bahot buri lag rahi ho," he rolled his eyes. She crossed her arms in defiance, "Haan, aap bhi koi pahaarhi bakre se kam nahi lag rahe hain." He sighed, "Really? Pahaarhi bakra?"
"Haan, toh? Bass thorhi si validation hi toh maang rahi thi," she muttered under her breath.
He took a step closer to her, looking around, making sure the watchman was distracted, quickly kissing her cheek, "Behadd khoobsurat lag rahi ho, mera bass chalta toh hum iss party mei aate hi na. Lekin badqismati dekho, humari hi party hai." She stared at him in awe, partially at the audacity, partially at the bounce in his step, his hands behind his back, no semblance of shame in his demeanour.
She shook her head, realizing nothing could be done about this man. "Let's go then, wapas nikalna bhi toh hai..." She hinted, biting her lip, moving ahead without him, a bowled over Farjaad trying to maintain composure, following behind her.
They walked into the hall, Umeed noticed the big chandeliers, crystal glasses, waiters moving around the room, people exchanging polite smiles and engaging in small talk, the live band taking up a corner of the hall, large marble pillars around the perimeter of the room. This was truly Farjaad.
The both of them split apart, moving through the party, Farjaad greeting people, Umeed introducing herself to people. In the middle of each conversation, their eyes flickered across the room, trying to locate the other person. Brief eye contact, in a crowd of people, they felt like they were the only ones there. They brushed shoulders several times, constantly drawn to where the other was, whispers exchanged, smiles suppressed.
"Can't wait to get my hands on you," Farjaad had said, moving past her, walking to the next business associate.
She had found him again, gently feathering her palm over his hip as she moved behind him, whispering, "Wait till I get mine on you," she had felt him shiver. He had felt his pants tighten, this was going to be a long night.
Mimi, dressed in a navy blue kaftan, finally got a hold of Umeed when she was done talking to the eleventh person she had seen. She greeted her with a hug, squealing. "Umeed! Tum kitni achi lag rahi ho. Everything is so perfect. Bhai really went all out," she raised her brows at Umeed, trying to get her to spill. Umeed couldn't help but smile, the night was turning out to be the best night she had had in a very long time. "Waise haan, tumhare bhai ne mehnat toh bahot ki hai," she admitted.
Before Mimi could respond, they heard the loud clicking of heels on the marble floor coming towards them from one end. Behind Mimi, Umeed saw Niggo bringing Farjaad over to them. She was excited seeing him, excited that Niggo was actually bringing him to her herself, completely dismissing the heels that had stopped clicking behind her.
Umeed took a step forward to greet Niggo but stopped hearing her speak first, "Hi Reena! Thank you so much for coming to Farjaad's party. So glad you were able to come." Umeed turned around, and indeed, the witch was stood right behind her. Of course. Umeed had to try hard not to roll her eyes in front of Niggo. Mimi couldn't help it, rolling her eyes right at Reena. Farjaad could feel the awkwardness bubbling between the group, his eyes didn't leave Umeed's.
Mimi spoke up before Reena could reply, "Yeah Reena, acha hua you were able to come to Umeed and bhai's party." Umeed stifled a laugh, grateful that Mimi always had her back.
Reena chose to ignore Mimi and moved towards Niggo and Farjaad, her eyes on the prize. She went over and hugged Niggo, and attempted to hug Farjaad, he carefully sidestepped, pretending he had to tie his shoelace.
He didn't miss the scowl and flash of anger on Umeed's face that vanished almost as soon as it had come. He smirked to himself, he liked when she was territorial. And boy, did she know how to establish territory.
Farjaad got up, meeting Umeed's eyes, she was shooting daggers at him. He smirked, holding her gaze, "Hi, Reena!" he exclaimed, over-excitedly. Umeed glared at him, nodding slowly. If this is the game you want to play, it is so on, Farjaad, she thought to herself. Umeed excused herself immediately, not bothering to hear Reena's response or the rest of this conversation, knowing Farjaad was only trying to push her buttons.
His eyes followed her as she moved through the room, stopping by one of his business associates' sons, Faris. He was probably the best looking out of the lot, also the youngest. She turned her head, shooting Farjaad a look, the smirk previously on his face entirely wiped off. He shook his head slightly, trying to warn her, he could not handle her around other men.
She knew.
She smiled at Farjaad, before proceeding to turn back to Faris, introducing herself to him. He was charming, suave, Farjaad was well-aware. He was making Umeed laugh, she made a show of throwing her head back and laughing, her hair cascading down her back, her back that Farjaad could not stop thinking about.
He gritted his teeth, watching them.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, he reached to check who it was, his eyes almost glued to Umeed and Faris, only breaking away for a second. It was a text from Haya.
He had started to wonder where they were, almost everyone had arrived and he had a special speech prepared for when they would be here. A grand surprise for Umeed, he was nervous and excited in equal parts.
Haya: Farjaad bhai, sorry thorhi deir hogayi hai. We're on the way, bass traffic mein phasey huey hain. Will text you when we're there.
Farjaad quickly looked over at Faris and Umeed again, he was too close for comfort, she glanced at Farjaad, making a show of fixing her hair, bringing it to one side, revealing her back. He could feel the problem in his pants worsen.
He clenched his fists, observing Faris' eyes scan over her. He wanted to punch him. He made a mental note to speak to Faris' father later.
He typed out a reply to Haya, not looking at his screen while typing, fixated on the little minx in front of him.
No worries, araam se aao. Let me know when you guys are outside.
He was about to approach her when someone else tapped his shoulder, one of his other business partners, and he had to engage in conversation with them. He kept stealing glances towards them, Umeed was still speaking to Faris.
Every now and then she would look his way. If she felt his eyes on her, she would casually trace her hand along her neck, fluttering her lashes at Farjaad, and when she was sure he was looking, fluttering them at Faris, knowing Farjaad was having an absolute meltdown watching her.
Faris offered her a drink, which she took gladly, clinking her glass with his as he congratulated her. She knew Farjaad had just gotten done speaking to one of his business partners, all his attention was on them. She pretended to stumble over her heels, Faris immediately reached out to stabilize her, his hands on her bare back, Farjaad gulped, ready to sweep her off her feet in front of Faris at this point.
"Oh, thank you so much, Faris!" She dragged his name out, Farjaad was well-aware that she knew exactly what she was doing using that voice. Against his will, he felt himself throb for her, for that voice, yearning to hear his own name.
Her fingers reached for Faris' lapel, "Let me fix that for you," her bright red lips mouthed, her red nails patting his lapel down, they were so close. Farjaad could feel the rage and desire licking at his veins, he didn't even realize when he had started inching towards them.
Umeed noticed and before he could create a scene, retreated to a dim corner of the room, promising Faris she would be back in just a minute. Farjaad pulled her arm, bringing her behind a marble pillar, pressing her against it, his body covering hers, making sure they were out of sight.
She knew exactly what he was here for, and she knew she had demonstrated that he would never win against her. He realized this was a game he really did not want to play. He reached for her palm, pressing it against his pants, she could feel how hard he was, a mix of fury and lust in his eyes. "Aisi kaun si baat thi jo khatam hone ka naam nahi le rahi thi," he spoke through clenched teeth, his lips hovering over hers.
Umeed blinked a couple of times, feigning innocence, her palm pressing harder against him, "Kaisi baat, Farjaad?" He all but moaned into her neck, his stubble rubbing against her cheek, "Umeed, saare badle loonga wapas jaakar." His hands grabbed her hips, squeezing them, she gasped slightly at the sudden movement. "You can do whatever you want with me," she challenged, her voice nasally, seductive, Farjaad was about to fall at her feet. She ran her nails across his chin, tugging his collar, scratching his chest, they wished they weren't at this party.
She pulled him closer, cupping his cheek, whispering into his ear, "Oh, by the way, my thong matches your outfit. Black." Farjaad almost choked on air, she laughed softly, her voice husky, "I wish I could take it off..."
With one final stroke over the raised imprint in his pants, she walked away, blowing him a kiss. Umeed went back to the party assured that she had left him with a far worse problem than he had found her with and Farjaad thanked the heavens he had decided to wear dark colours.
Farjaad tried to get himself together, taking deep breaths. His phone buzzed again.
Haya: Hi, we are outside. Just reached.
Farjaad inhaled slowly, ready, showtime baby.
***
Umeed noticed Farjaad shuffle out the main doors, looking at his phone. She smiled at his back, she was so happy they had found each other again, so relieved that things were looking up. Somewheere in the back of her mind, the thought of her family plagued her, but she decided this was not an issue for tonight. Tonight was supposed to be perfect and so far, the night had not disappointed her. She took another sip of the sparkling apple juice in her hand, swaying gently to the music.
Farjaad stepped outside, greeting Umeed's family, hugging everyone. Haya noticed he was more fidgety than she had ever seen him but he looked so happy. He had the same glow he had six days ago when he had come over to invite them. Once more, she wished Umeed was here.
"Beta, maazrat chaahte hain. Zyada deir toh nahi hui?" Pasha Sahab mentioned to him, patting his shoulder.
He shook his head, happy, nervous, excited, his stomach tied in knots. "Nahi, nahi, bilkul sahi time pe aaye hain. Aaiyye," he gestured to the door, urging them all towards the entrance, the big mahogany doors pulling open.
It almost felt like it all happened in slow motion.
Her gaze shifted to the door, hearing it open. She was smiling, excited to see Farjaad back in the room with her, she involuntarily took a step towards the door. Farjaad did emerge, beaming, but the door did not close behind him.
In fact, it looked like he turned around to help someone else in.
Umeed leaned forward, trying to get a peek, she wasn't close enough to the door to see through the crowd covering the floor to find out who was hidden behind Farjaad's figure. He looked for her in the crowd as Umeed's family poured in, "Umeed!" He called out.
The people on the floor shifted to look at her, clearing the way for her to see who Farjaad had brought inside.
Her eyes landed on Farjaad.
She felt her chest tighten.
It felt like her heart stopped. Her mouth ran dry, her lips parting open in absolute shock, disbelief. The room spun around her.
Beside him, stood her entire family.
Pasha Sahab, Sameer, Haya, Chachu, Chachi, Aghoo Jaan.
Her feet were nailed to the floor, she felt her stomach twist, her hands trembled. Eyes flickering from person to person.
A glaring shatter reverberated throughout the room. The crystal flute in her hand had slipped out of her hold, hitting the floor, shards scattered by her feet, the remaining sparkling juice spilled across the marble. The entire room turned to stare at her.
She felt the walls closing in on her.
For the first time since planning this entire event, Farjaad realized maybe this was not a good idea. Niggo turned to look at the source of the noise, of course, Umeed ne glass gira diyaa, she thought first but then she noticed Umeed's family standing at the entrance. She was in absolute shock as well, wondering what was going on.
The live band continued playing, Umeed could feel her head pound, she wanted to puke. Her thumping heartbeat rung through her ears, she could not believe any of this was happening. She was frozen in place, the entire party staring at her, her family just as shocked. The tension hung thick in the air, cheesy jazz music still playing, Farjaad was holding his breath, hating himself.
Too soon, Pasha Sahab inched forward, "Umeed—"
Hearing her father's voice, two years later, brought Umeed back to the moment.
She stumbled backwards as her family moved towards her, she could feel the tears prick her eyes, her throat was closing up. This couldn't be happening, not now, not like this.
She was absolutely terrified of what her father would say. She knew he was going to scold her, going to reprimand her, going to tell her how careless she was, how much she screwed up all of their lives, what a disgrace she was to the family.
She didn't want to hear any of it, she couldn't, she wasn't ready.
As the distance seemed to shrink between them, Umeed bolted.
Her vision was blurry, it felt like the whole world was spinning, she didn't realize when she had started crying. She felt her body turn cold, her mind was a haze, she felt like she was having a heart attack. She couldn't hear her family call out behind her as she pushed through the crowd, pushing past the doors, couldn't notice Farjaad tell her family to wait, couldn't see him run after her. Couldn't hear her call her name.
Her dad's face flashed before her eyes again and again, she was going to be sick. All the guilt of leaving her family, of abandoning everyone, of lying to everyone, it was finally catching up to her. She was realizing she couldn't run anymore, couldn't run any longer.
"Umeed!" Farjaad called out behind her, trying to catch up to her, she wouldn't stop.
Her hand clasped over her mouth, muffling the sobs that shook her entire body, still running for her life. She couldn't believe he would do this to her. She scolded herself in her head, shaking, wondering why she ever trusted him. She thought he respected that she wasn't ready to meet her family, wasn't ready to confront her past yet, but no, of course he didn't care.
Like always, just like last time, he took everything into his own hands. He always thought he knew better than her. They could never be together, not the last time they were together, not this time, not ever.
She remembered the night she threw his engagement ring at his feet.
No one trusts me to handle things, not him, not Pasha Sahab, not anyone.
Farjaad finally caught up to her, right as she stumbled over her feet, her heel caught on the pavement. He instinctively reached for her shoulders, she pushed his hands off mustering every ounce of strength in her. The force was enough to make him take a step back, her eyes are bloodshot, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"How fucking dare you!" She shouted, her voice ringing through his ears. She was sobbing, shaking, "How could you..." she choked on her tears, shaking her head, nothing made sense to her, none of her thoughts were coherent as she screamed at him on the side of the road.
"I thought...I thought things were different but no, I was so wrong. So wrong," she heaved into her hands, "Main hi paagal hoon! Why did you come back into my life? No, actually, maine aapko wapas aane hi kyu diya..." her voice was shrill, her cheeks warm, the hot tears pouring down rapidly.
Farjaad's tongue turned to lead, he wanted so desperately to explain everything to her, to tell her he didn't have the wrong intentions, that he could explain if she lets him.
He couldn't speak.
Umeed turned to the road, looking for any rikshaw, any cab, any way out of this place. She flagged a yellow Mehran down, her vision bleary, screaming at the road, "You ruined everything! Everything!"
She choked on her words, incoherent, she wished the next car would just hit her instead, her hand clasped the handle of the cab, trembling.
Farjaad could feel his heart break, he knew in his heart if he doesn't say anything now, if he doesn't stop her, this is the end.
His voice does not cooperate, he is shocked at the state of her, she was a sobbing, screaming mess.
And before he knows it, the door of the cab opens, and she looks at him, one last time. She hiccups, pulling off the gajre he bought for her earlier that night, throwing them at his feet like they were shackles, digging into her skin.
"I hate you."
The door of the cab slams shut, speeding off. Farjaad wanted the ground to swallow him whole, wanted to go back, could not come to terms with anything that just happened.
His chest ached, it felt like someone had dug a knife into his heart and twisted it.
The party was over.
The engagement ring he had been carrying in his pocket the whole night felt so heavy, anchoring him to the road.
He couldn't move.
Author's Note: Hi! Hope you liked the chapter, please vote and let me know what you think! :)