Bashir Khan and Asjad Yazdani were childhood friends, even though their families did not get along. Their friendship stayed strong because they did not let their families' political differences affect them. They decided to marry their children to end the old feud between their families.

Asjad had one son named Abid. Bashir had two children: Javed and Jawaria. They thought marrying Abid and Jawaria would be a good way to bring peace between their families.

The wedding of Abid and Jawaria was simple, with only close friends and family attending. Jawaria's rukhsati was fixed after she finished her studies.

Abid had always liked Jawaria, who was as delicate as a doll. Somewhere along the way, love for Abid had blossomed in Jawaria's heart as well. Both were happy with their marriage, dreaming beautiful dreams of their future together. Little did they know what fate had in store for their love.

That day, there was a party at Asjad's house. He had received a ticket from his political party, and in celebration, he invited friends and relatives over for dinner.

Jawaria arrived with her family. She was wearing a beautiful flowing light blue long kameez adorned with intricate white embroidery, paired with matching trousers that had subtle embroidery at the hem. Draped over her shoulder was a coordinating dupatta with a grid pattern and embellished borders. She looked exceedingly beautiful. Abid's eyes kept drifting back to her, while Jawaria, stealing glances at Abid, found his presence in the black shalwar kameez even more striking. His commanding presence and the confident way he carried himself only heightened his appeal in her eyes.

The house was alive with the buzz of conversation and laughter. Friends and relatives mingled, enjoying the festive atmosphere. In the midst of this, Abid's eyes sought out Jawaria, unable to resist her allure. As he watched her, his heart swelled with love and pride.

Abid signalled Jawaria to come upstairs with a gesture of his eyes. Jawaria's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise. She glanced nervously at her bhabhi standing nearby, who was busy chatting with someone. Jawaria looked back at Abid and shook her head in refusal. This time, Abid's eyes narrowed in displeasure, and he signalled again, more insistently, before walking away. It was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer-Jawaria had to go upstairs.

Her heart pounded as she made her way through the crowd, her mind racing with thoughts of what Abid might want to discuss. She hoped no one noticed her departure, especially not her father or brother, as the celebration carried on downstairs.

As she ascended the stairs, the noise of the party faded, replaced by the sound of her own quickening breaths. She reached the top and found Abid waiting for her in the dimly lit hallway. His expression was a mixture of frustration and longing, as he was leaning against a doorway.

"Hume yaha kyu bulaya?" Jawaria asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

(Why did you call me here?)

Abid took her hand, leading her into a quiet room away from prying eyes.

As Jawaria and Abid entered the quiet room, Abid closed the door gently behind them. The soft glow of a single lamp cast a warm light over their faces, making Jawaria's delicate features appear even more ethereal.

"Abid..."

"Yaar, main thori derr tumse baat karna chahta hoon," Abid began, his voice had frustration, "Niche toh tum karne nahi dogi."

(I just want to talk to you.)

(You won't let me do it downstairs.)

Jawaria's eyes softened as she looked at him. "Zahir hai, achha thori lagta hai. Achha toh khair yun uppar ana bhi nahi lagta, kya sochenge sab?"

(Obviously, it doesn't look good. It's not good to come upstairs like this either, what will everyone think?)

"Yeh toh unhe humara nikkah karwane se pehle sochna tha, ab tum meri malkiyat ho, kisi ko koi haq nahi kuch sochne ka agar main tumhe yun uppar le aau." He stepped closer to her and told.

(They should have thought about this before arranging our marriage. Now you belong to me, no one has the right to think anything if I bring you up here like this.)

"Achha kyu bulaya hume yaha?" Jawaria stepped back from him and looked around.

(Why did you call me?)

"Tumhe tumhara kamra dikhana tha," Carelessly, he went to sit on the bed. Abid had no actual reason to call her here. He just wanted to spend some time with her.

(I wanted to show you your room.)

Downstairs, Bashir and Asjad were standing together near the main hall. The room was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and conversation.

"Mubarak ho ticket ke liye," Bashir said warmly, patting his friend on the back.

(Congratulations on getting the tickets.)

"Thank you."

As they chatted, Fahad, a mutual acquaintance, approached with a curious smile. "Bashir, suna hai tum bhi electtion mein kharhe ho rahe ho?"

(Bashir, I heard you're also standing in the election?)

Bashir nodded, a proud but measured expression on his face. "Haan, ab waqt agaya hai main bhi siyasat mein kadam rakhlu."

(Yes, now it's time for me to step into politics too.)

Asjad's smile faltered momentarily, taken aback by this revelation. He quickly composed himself, masking his surprise. "Yeh sahi kaha tumne. Aur phir humari community ko tumhare jaise leader ki zaroorat hai."

(You're right about that. Our community needs leaders like you.)

Just then, Noman, another guest, joined the conversation. "Aap dono samdhi hain toh kya party mein bhi koi gathbandhan hoga?"

(Since you're both relatives, will there be an alliance in the party as well?)

Bashir's expression turned serious. "Noman, humare personal rishte apni jagah, lekin siyasat ek alag cheez hai. Humare apne apne tareeqe hain, vision hain community ke liye. Yeh dono mamlat ek dusre se alag rahe toh hi behtar hai."

(Noman, our personal relationships have their place, but politics is a different matter. We have our own ways and our own visions for the community. It's better if these two matters remain separate.)

They have their own ways and visions. What did Bashir mean? Asjad felt like Bashir was questioning his methods. He felt like Bashir was suggesting that he couldn't make the right decision for the community.

An unspoken tension hung in the air. Asjad nodded in agreement, though his eyes betrayed a hint of discomfort. "Bashir sahi keh raha hai, humari siyasati zindagi aur personal rishto ko alag rakhne mein hi samajhdari hogi."

(Bashir is right. It would be wise to keep our political life and personal relationships separate.)

The conversation drifted to other topics, but the undercurrent of unease remained. Both men knew that despite their efforts to separate their personal and political lives, the lines were bound to blur, challenging their friendship and the new alliance between their families.

As Jawaria and Abid settled on the bed, Abid's eyes were filled with a mixture of hope and determination.

"Tumhari parhai kab complete hogi?" Abid began earnestly, "Mujhse ab aur intezar nahi hota."

(When will your studies be completed?)

(I can't wait any longer now.)

Jawaria couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Uske liye ek saal toh apko intezar karna parhega."

(You'll have to wait a year for that.)

"Ek saal? Itna sabr nahi mujhme." Abid sighed dramatically.

(A year? I don't have that much patience.)

Jawaria laughed, "Aap apni ralley pe dhyan dein, ek saal yun guzar jayega."

(Focus on your rally. A year will pass by like that.)

Abid chuckled, mock saluting her. "Yes, ma'am! Jaisa aap kahe, main ralley pe dhyan dunga, lekin beech beech mein tumhare barey mein bhi sochunga."

(Yes, ma'am! As you say, I'll focus on the rally, but I'll also think about you from time to time.)

Jawaria and Abid enjoyed their time together, unaware of the tensions between their families.

•••

Bashir and Asjad, who were once close friends, found themselves on opposite sides of the political spectrum during their campaigns. Their rivalry grew as they mentioned each other while canvassing for votes. Each statement from one party was met with a quick response from the other. With each passing day, their friendship seemed to suffer more.

However, Jawaria and Abid's love stayed strong despite the political chaos around them. They never talked about politics; their love was their focus. They found comfort in each other, treasuring the moments they spent together away from the turmoil. To them, nothing else mattered when they were together, and their bond grew stronger each day.

•••

Mikaal, Shaheen, and Shehzaad stood huddled outside Mikaal's room, exchanging anxious glances while inside, Yumna tended to Humayrah. Mikaal had been terrified when Humayrah suddenly fainted. Thankfully, Yumna was home and hadn't gone to the hospital yet, and he called her.

"Mikaal?" Shaheen's voice broke through Mikaal's worried thoughts as he stood by the door, anxiously waiting for it to open and for Yumna to tell him Humayrah was okay.

"Ji, Ammi?" he responded, trying to mask his anxiety.

(Yes, ammi?)

"Yeh batao, tumhare aur Humayrah ki shadi ko kitna time hua hai?" Shaheen's question puzzled Mikaal. Where did this come from?

(Tell me, how long has it been since your and Humayrah's wedding?)

Mikaal glanced at Shehzaad, who stood behind Shaheen, making strange gestures, shaking his head and mimicking a neck-slitting action with his thumb.

"Mikaal, kuch pucha hai tumse," Shaheen repeated, her tone more insistent.

(Mikaal, I've asked you something.)

"Uh, I... zyada time nahi hua kuch... 3 4 months?" Mikaal shifted his gaze from Shehzaad to Shaheen, answering hesitantly.

(Uh, I... it hasn't been much time, maybe 3 to 4 months?)

"3 4 mahina?" Shaheen seemed lost in thought while Shehzaad smacked his forehead in frustration.

Unable to stand it any longer, Mikaal walked over to Shehzaad, trying to figure out what was going on. "Kya hai?" he whispered urgently.

(What's the matter?)

"Apko jawab nahi dena chahiye tha." Shehzaad whispered back.

(You shouldn't have answered.)

"Par kyu?" Mikaal's confusion deepened.

(But why?)

Shehzaad smacked his forehead again. "Bhai, ammi ke dimagh mein iss waqt kuch aur hi chal raha hai," he tried to explain.

(Bhai, ammi has something else on her mind right now,)

"Kya chal raha hai?" Mikaal still didn't get it.

(What's on her mind?)

"Unhe lag raha hai ki..." Shehzaad struggled to say it out loud and resorted to gesturing. He points at Mikaal, then crossed his arms and rocked them like he was holding a baby. Mikaal's eyes widened in realization.

(She thinks that...)

Before Mikaal could say anything, the door to the room opened, and Yumna stepped out. Mikaal immediately approached her.

"Bhabhi, kya hua unhe?"

(What happened to her?)

"Kuch nahi, bp low hai, shayad stress ki wajah se? Bas issi liye behosh ho gayi. Humne dawai di hai, thori derr mein hosh ajayega." Yumna reassured him.

(Nothing, her blood pressure is low, maybe due to stress? That's why she fainted. I've given her medicine, and she'll regain consciousness soon.)

Just as Mikaal began to breathe a sigh of relief, Shaheen interjected, "Yumna, idhar ana." She took Yumna's arm and took her on the side. Yumna looked puzzled but nevertheless followed her. Mikaal watched them leave silently. How could he explain to his mother that what she was thinking wasn't possible?

(Yumna, come here,)

"Bhai, kahi wakai mein..." Shehzaad found the whole situation amusing and couldn't resist asking, which earned him a punch in the stomach from Mikaal.

(bhai, is it true that...)

"Shut up," Glaring at Shehzaad, Mikaal went to his room to check on Humayrah.

•••

At dinner, Humayrah was present with everyone. Javed Khan's expression soured slightly upon seeing her, but he controlled it. Whatever the case, this girl was Mikaal's wife and the third daughter-in-law of this house. Whether he liked it or not, he had to accept her into the family now.

Humayrah, who had previously thought she would boldly confront Javed Khan if he approached her, now found herself unable to even lift her eyes to look at anyone. She sat quietly as if she were a lone deer among a pack of lions.

"Apke walid sahab kya karte hain?" Javed Khan suddenly asked, causing not only Humayrah but also everyone else at the table to look at him. His eyes, however, remained on his plate.

(What does your father do?)

Mikaal gently nudged Humayrah, indicating that Javed Khan was addressing her. When she didn't say anything, Javed Khan finally looked at her directly.

"Main kisi walid sahab ko nahi janti." Humayrah's straightforward response made Mikaal cough to cover his laugh, while everyone else looked confused and surprised.

(I don't know any walid sahab.)

"He meant your father," Mikaal whispered softly in her ear to clarify.

This question made Humayrah's throat go dry. Her father? Why did he want to know about her father? Did he already know whose granddaughter she was? Was all of this part of some grand scheme-the way Mikaal met her and brought her to his home? Staring at Javed Khan without blinking, these thoughts raced through her mind until Javed Khan, finding her gaze odd, looked at Mikaal as if silently asking, "What's wrong with her?"

"Abbu, actually, Humayrah ke ammi abbu nahi hain." Mikaal explained, smoothing over the situation. Humayrah quickly returned her gaze to her plate.

(Abbu, actually, Humayrah's parents are dead.)

Shaheen felt a pang of sympathy for Humayrah, imagining how difficult it must be for an orphaned girl. Perhaps it was the cold behaviour of everyone here that had caused her low blood pressure.

Javed Khan, somewhat taken aback by Mikaal's explanation, cleared his throat and tried to soften his tone. "Sunke afsos hua," he said, though it was clear he wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation.

(I'm sorry to hear that.)

After some time of silence, Javed Khan cleared his throat, breaking the quiet tension that had settled over the table. "Ghar mein koi bada toh hoga na?"

(There must be someone elder in the house, right?)

Humayrah's confusion was evident as she looked up, unsure of how to respond, she asked. "Bada?"

(Elder?)

Javed Khan sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Apke chachu, mamu, dada, koi toh honge na?"

(Your uncle, maternal uncle, grandfather, there must be someone, right?)

Grandfather? Now he wants to know about her grandfather? Humayrah felt her heart slowing down.

Humayrah shook her head quickly. "No, dad ke koi siblings nahi hain, aur na hi mom ke. Mera koi nahi hai." She said it very hastily.

(No, my dad doesn't have any siblings, and neither does my mom. I don't have anyone.)

Humayrah's response puzzled Mikaal. Why did she say she had no one? Why didn't she mention her step-parents? Then he thought maybe she wasn't comfortable talking about it with everyone.

While Shaheen's heart ached for the young woman sitting across from her. She quickly interjected, her voice filled with warmth and compassion. "Aisa mat kaho koi nahi. Hum sab haina apke apne. Aap Mikaal ki biwi hain, iss ghar ka hissa hain."

(Don't say that. You're not alone. We're all here for you. You're Mikaal's wife, you're a part of this house.)

For some reason, Mikaal couldn't help but smile at his mother's words. Humayrah, however, didn't say anything. She simply nodded her head.

No one asked Humayrah anything after that, and she was grateful for the reprieve. The rest of dinner passed in relative silence for her, with the family engaging in light conversation that she only half-listened to. Once the meal was over, she excused herself politely and headed back to her room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Humayrah let out a deep sigh, the tension of the evening weighing heavily on her. She moved to the window, looking out into the night, her mind racing. She had to escape from this house. She didn't know if anyone here knew her true identity, but she couldn't risk staying to find out.

Humayrah sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts churning. She needed a plan, a way to leave without raising suspicion. Tomorrow, she decided. She would find an opportunity to slip away quietly.

Lying down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the night. Shaheen's kindness, Yumna's supports, even Shehzaad's attempts to lighten the mood, and Mikaal-they were all good people, but she couldn't let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. She had to protect herself.

As the night wore on, Humayrah found it hard to sleep. She kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until she could make her move. She rehearsed her plan over and over in her mind, visualizing each step she would take to ensure her escape went smoothly.

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and she drifted into a fitful sleep, her mind still focused on her escape. The house around her was quiet, the family oblivious to the turmoil brewing in her heart.

•••

The next day, Mikaal was in office with Fyzl, going over some documents. This morning, Javed had scolded Mikaal, asking for how long he'll be on vacation when he is planning to return to the office. This embarrassed Mikaal, and he decided to join the office today.

The work here had been uneventful, with the usual routine of meetings and paperwork. Mikaal was just about to make a point about a particularly troublesome contract when his phone rang. Seeing Yumna's name on the screen, he quickly picked up.

"Assalam-Alaikum, bhabhi, sab theek?" he answered, trying to keep his tone light. Yumna never calls him unless he's with Farhan, and Farhan's phone is unreachable. Mikaal sensed some danger.

(Is everything okay?)

"Mikaal, woh Humayrah..." Yumna's voice was filled with worry, making Mikaal's heart skip a beat.

(Mikaal, about Humayrah...)

"Kya hua Humayrah ko? Woh theek hain?" Mikaal asked, immediately on edge.

(What happened to Humayrah? Is she okay?)

"Hum hospital aye the ammi ne kaha tha unke kuch check up karwane ke liye lekin... lekin kuch log ussey leke chale gaye." Yumna's voice wavered, as she explained.

(We went to the hospital, ammi said she needed some check-ups, but... but some people took her away.)

"Leke chale... bhabhi, kya matlab leke chale gaye?" Mikaal was loss of words.

(Took her away... bhabhi, what do you mean they took her away?)

"Mikaal, hume khud nahi pata. Aap yaha aye, hum sab batate hain," Yumna's worry palpable through the phone.

(Mikaal, I don't know. Come here, I'll explain everything.)

"Main araha hoon," Mikaal rushed out of the office, his thoughts a chaotic mix of fear and urgency. How could this have happened?

(I'm coming.)

Mikaal drove to the hospital as quickly as he could, barely noticing the traffic around him. His mind kept replaying the last moments he had seen Humayrah, trying to understand what could have led to this.

My stepfather is a very dangerous person. He recalled Humayrah's words. Did her step father got her? Humayrah repeatedly said staying in this city isn't safe for her.

•••

I have 4 5 different books on this story in my draft, whenever I have to write a chapter, I take few scenes from here, few dialogues from there and then I forget where I wrote the new chapter 😅

Khair, how's the chapter?

-Ufaq