"She is burning." I scarcely heard my father's muffled voice, when he sat besides me, softly stroking my scorching forehead. "What happened at the farmhouse, Layla?"

Hearing his words an unsettling chill ran through me and I feebly forced my eyes open. It had been three days since we came back and with each passing moment I felt the shards of my soul shattering irreparably.

That night, Aliyaar had made his truth as visible as the magnificent sun and now no clouds could hide it, no storm could steal its gleam, nor could any moon eclipse its radiant glory. We had both shared our unpalatable truths, but the whorish emptiness that followed was excruciatingly painful.

I groaned trying to breathe. The fever was burning my body and soul, while my forehead glistened with worry. I plopped myself against the bed rest, pulling the duvet up to my chin. I felt my stomach lurch, as my eyes sunk from the wave of heat coursing though me.

"You're awake."

"How do you feel now?"

"Do you want something?"

A torrent of questions rained over me and I looked around furtively, as the words roared into my ears throwing my exhausted mind into utter confusion. "I'm fine," I stifled lowly, "Can you close the curtains, Layla?" I squint my eyes at the brilliantly golden rays of the sun that streamed into my room through the wide windows, filling the room with an envious glow.

But right now, the light seemed to stab my eyes and pierce my heart. All I wanted was to be drenched in the cobweb of warm soft darkness, away from my squalling thoughts and the deafening derisiveness of my conscience. I sighed, as my father wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I sagged into his warm embrace.

How I had missed this.

"How do you feel Shanzae? What has you so disturbed?" His voice faltered with worry and when I looked up I was met with the long, troubled gaze of a father. His thick eyebrows raced to meet together in a cold frown.

Before I could voice my thoughts, my mother cried out in distress, "We're forcing her into a life she doesn't want. She has been miserable ever since we told her about it." Layla held her shoulder, trying to comfort her. My mother, the wilful, stoic beauty was distraught today. The sharp greys of her eyes that blended beautifully with the delicate features of her face, were turbulent and chaotic, distinctly at variance with her otherwise restrained decorum.

Dad sighed resignedly, twisting around to a more comfortable position, drawing me closer to him. "Have you taken the medicine? The fever is still there." I nodded meekly against his chest, pressing myself closer to the comfort I so yearned for. "Talk to us. You've had us worried these past three days. Locking yourself up in your room is not going to help."

My father was a judiciously perceptive man, with deeply instilled principles and a high regard for discipline in his life. The greys of his hair were testament of his sanguine resilience and determination to succeed. He was a loving father, but his solemn regard for his duty towards this family, the party and business meant our differences grew and our relationship slowly began to shrivel away.

But today as I lay curled up against him, I was his little princess and he was my doting king.

"I tried talking to you, but I know there is nothing you can do. I'm just overwhelmed. All of this is sudden." I uttered, trying to conceal the turmoil churning within me.

There was a prolonged silence before my mother spoke measuredly, "Do you want to call off this wedding?" Her emotions were frosted with determination and a chilling resolution. Layla and I looked at each other unsurely, both of us taken back with our mother's mutinous defiance. Her eyes glowed with impertinence, challenging our father to protest.

But there was none. He was maddeningly placid, meeting her displeased glare with his calm unwavering eyes. "Is that what you want, Shany?" He questioned gently. I looked up and saw understanding swirl in the depth of his eyes.

When I did not speak, my mother scooted over to the foot of the bed, the ferment of her anger withering slowly from her face. "I've never questioned this family or you, Abdullah, but I will not let my daughter pay the price of your misdoings. I will not let you push her into a life she does not want. It is high time families like us start treating children as humans and not assets."

Her tone was soft, but her words were laced with an ominous fierceness. And in that moment, I saw a glimpse of the strong woman who had supported my father and our family in the most vulnerable and fragile moments. She had always been fiercely protective of her family, and despite their differing opinions she had always stood by my father like a rock.

Dad's face remained unchanged, but he straightened fixing his glasses thoughtfully. "She is my daughter as well, Mehreen. You think I'm pleased to see her like this? As far as this marriage is concerned, you and I both have had this discussion. The reason I said yes to Aliyaar's proposal was because we both agreed that he was an appropriate choice for our daughter."

"That's what we thought. Shanzae doesn't share our opinion and we can't force her into something she doesn't want." She looked down, trying to hide the tears brimming her eyes as her voice dwindled.

Dad looked at me with anguished apprehension, while he patted my hair gently. "You've had me worried since you came to my study that day. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so unreasonably dismissive of your thoughts, but I genuinely thought you'd come around the idea. But I cannot see you like this. I was supposed to be your support yet it seems like I failed you—"

"Don't say that." I said hugging him tightly. "You did what you thought was best for me."

"But your mother is right, you shouldn't have to sacrifice your happiness for the problems we created. You have every right to take your own decisions." He smiled encouragingly at me.

I looked at him surprised, as happy tears pricked my eyes. His words calmed my febrile agitated state and I looked at my mother who mirrored my emotions.

"But what about the elections? Dada Jaan would never agree." Layla voiced her concerns.

Dad's forehead was puckered with worry, his forlorn feelings evident on his face. His shoulders sagged against the bed rest, his eyes which perfectly curtained his thoughts were wide open and naked today, despair and impotence floating in them like volatile spirits. I knew my family was in trouble, but the reminder was bitter and painful.

"I'm looking for ways to arrange the funds. We have a few contacts in the Middle East that can help, but the main problem are the seats from South Punjab and Sindh. But I will talk to Abba, we will find another way." He said assuredly, but his troubled eyes spoke the truth no one wanted to hear.

There was no other way.

Mother heard him patiently, and a singular damp expression seized her face. Her eyes darted between my father and I, before a soft smile flirted over her grave face. "Shany, is it marriage you're opposed to or is it your marriage to Aliyaar that has had you so worried?" She asked in a gentle voice.

All eyes in the room settled on me, with a flicker of hope burning within them. I could not precisely define what they expected me to say, but I knew calling off the wedding wasn't the easiest option for my parents, especially knowing the mayhem that would ensue.

"I don't want to force you into this marriage any longer, nor do I want to influence your decision, but as a parent I still feel this is a good proposal for you. Had things been normal, would you still have had a problem?" Dad asked, rather softly.

I looked at them unsure. "I don't know," I replied with awkward diffidence.

"Is this about Shehryar, Shany?" My mother asked hesitantly. A glittering hope moved within her eyes.

I felt her words sadden my heart and the confusion within me rose to clamour. Aliyaar's words cut through me, pushing me into the depths of fathomless darkness. I had felt the truth of his words. There was nothing bitter or bilious about them, but a sweet foreboding that's scared me to my core.

"I don't think Ahmed Sahab would have a problem if we asked him for Shehryar's hand. They were the ones who had initially proposed it." Dad said. Layla looked at me knowingly. "Aliyaar is a sensible boy, he would understand."

I drew in a sharp breath, the muscles of my body stiffening uncomfortably. Dad continued to pat my head, silently assuring me of his support and presence. This is all I needed at the moment.

"The temperature seems to have lowered now," mother said, feeling my forehead.

"Shany, Ibrahim Bhai wants to announce Aliyaar and your wedding in an interview which will air next Sunday. They'd be filming it on Thursday." A cold ripple of panic churned within me. "I know you need time to think, but you need to tell me what you want by tomorrow."

"What if you don't like my decision?" I asked swiftly.

"Your mother and I will still support you. Everything and every option is in front of you. Take your time, think and decide. You don't have to feel pressured by anyone or anything."

I nodded graciously. Every person needs support, and today with my parents besides me, I felt like the strongest person.

There was a knock at the door and Layla stood up to check. Huda walked in with a trolley, and my stomach rumbled at the smell of the soup. I hadn't had much appetite in the past few days, but right now the mere sight of the soup bowl and bread seemed appetising. Mother poured the content into the smaller bowl, when I heard Layla's voice, "Oh, I didn't see you?"

We all turned our eyes at the door to see Aliyaar standing there. I felt my heart speed up, seeing him stand there, tall and glorious. His panther like eyes soaked in my darkened room with a cool recklessness. His black shirt tautly clung to his lean sinewy frame, while his coat hung folded on his arm. His hair were pushed back, revealing his sharp cutting features.

"Aliyaar. What a surprise." My mother said walking up to him. He stepped inside, greeting my parents and I straightened up running a hand through my hair. I probably looked like a royal mess.

"Zaroon told me Shanzae wasn't well. I thought I'd drop by." He told my mother, and I couldn't help but feel the heat rise up my face.

"She is a little under the weather, but she is much better now." Mother smiled at him. "What would you like for lunch?"

"Please don't worry yourself. I'll be leaving shortly."

"It's almost time for lunch. I insist you have lunch with us." Dad said, "Mehreen, have lunch laid out." Mum nodded as they both walked out leaving Layla behind, whose eyes shifted uncomfortably between the two of us.

"Layla, can you give us a minute?" He asked, pulling the chair besides my bed. I clenched my eyes, rubbing my temples. I don't think I was prepared for yet another conversation. The door snapped shut and I realised we were alone again.

"How do you feel now?" I heard him ask.

"Like shit." I chuckled humourlessly, adjusting the cover around me.

"You're not answering your messages." He shifted forward, clasping the the his hands over his knees. The muscles of his forearm flexed visibly under his shirt. Today, his eyes were deafeningly silent, cold and chaotically controlled.

"I haven't checked my phone." I lied looking away for I knew my lurid eyes would betray me.

I sneaked another glance at him, and saw him watching me like a predator staking his prey, his face was dark, calm and unreadable. I stared back at him, my eyebrows furrowing questioningly. The fire of emotions that burnt in his eyes that night had dwindled down to smouldering embers, almost invisible.

Yet there was something very powerful as we looked at each other, trying to search within our souls. I could feel something, something deep, something intimate, something very intimidating. Every muscle on our face was tense, as our eyes silently communicated the fears soaring within us.

"I've news for you." He finally spoke, picking up the bowl of soup from the trolley in front of us. "Have you eaten?"

I shook my head, "I didn't feel like eating."

He sighed, pushing the bowl in front of me, urging me to drink it. I shook my head, the little appetite I had was also gone.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He said as he moved onto the bed, placing the bowl on his knee. His lips quivered with amusement, seeing my scrunched face as he raised the spoon up to my lips.

"I'm not stubborn." I protested pursing my lips, folding my arms across my chest.

He pushed the spoon against my lips, "Don't kid yourself. Now open your mouth, you're literally proving my point here." His lips twitched, trying to fight the smile that threatened to spill on his face.

I slowly sipped on the hot liquid, "I still don't think I'm stubborn." I said lowly.

This time he laughed. His eyes twinkled with the same warmth, I had gotten so used to. His face relaxed with unrestrained mirth and he shook his head at my words. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." He smiled, bringing another spoonful up to my lips.

I took another sheepish gulp, my lips twisting into a smile. We sat in silence as he continued to feed me. I should have stopped him, but I didn't want to. "I'll finish it." I said after a while, moving forward to grab the bowl.

"I don't trust you." He smiled lopsidedly. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cleverly put the spoon against my lips silencing me into another gulp. "Do you not trust me?" He asked suddenly.

I froze hearing him. The atmosphere in the room shifted suddenly. I consciously stilled, as the weight of his words stirred something within me. A dull ache spread through me, and I gaped trying to piece my words together. The silence that greeted me was sinister and baneful.

"Do you not trust me?" He asked again.

"What do you mean?"

"I promised you I'd get you out of this. Then why have you worried yourself sick?" He asked placing his hand over mine.

"Your words scared me Aliyaar." I confessed reluctantly. "That night—what you said."

He arranged his face into a solemn expression, before he spoke, "But I also made you a promise."

"But—"

"I'll keep my promise. I won't let anyone force you into a life you do not want." He squeezed my hand, "I told you I have news."

"What is it about?" I asked, my eyes set upon our hands. I felt my chest constrict painfully, the guilt of hurting this man seeped through my veins like poison.

"Do you know who Mir Shahnawaz Hasan is?"

I squint my eyes, trying to remember the name that sounded so familiar. "Isn't he a Supreme Court judge?"

"Who is about to become the Bench Chair in the upcoming cases against your family. His son recently got gifted two properties in London from an offshore shell company. Interestingly, the name of the same company was used by your grandfather to provide the money trail in the tax evasion case that was filed against him in 2001."

"You're suggesting embezzlement, tax evasion, illicit laundering of money and bribery. I'm sure what you're saying is true, but you need solid evidence to prove this in court. And why would you do that, it would destroy my family." A fiery burst of worry pulsated through me hearing his words, as a series of possible scenarios raced through my mind.

"I have documents to prove it. Not all of them, but I do have evidence to show your uncle has tried to bride the judge." He said rather coolly. "But all of that is inconsequential. I have no interest in taking this to court. What matters is, that I now I have power to renegotiate this deal."

"You'd blackmail them."

"They've left me with no other option. I tried talking to Ibrahim uncle last week as well. But they're not ready to listen, in fact they want to go public with this by next week. They know well, I'd never be able to back out if the news of our marriage gets out."

"They can destroy you." I said. "In seconds."

"I am aware."

"You're taking a big risk."

"What's life without an adventure."

"This is not an adventure, this is madness." He smiled hearing my words.

"This is your only chance; my only chance to keep my promise. I have enough proof to convince them to listen to my demands. I think Zaroon and Ibrahim uncle have an idea, that's why they are pressurising me to go public with the announcement."

"That also means they know you'd present them with your demands." I tired reasoning with him. "You think they wouldn't be ready to counter them?"

"Fortunately, your family needs me as much as I need them. It's easier for them to call off our wedding than cancel this whole deal."

I looked away, sighing heavily. I know he was watching me, but I don't think I had it in me to face him. His words and actions that were meant to comfort me, only splintered inside me causing pain as the guilt of unknown depth and skulking beasts consumed me.

"My parents asked me what I wanted. They promised they'd respect my decision."

I felt him stiffen besides me. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. They've given me until tomorrow to give them an answer." He nodded.

"If only they had listened to you earlier." He chuckled. "But I'm glad they are supporting your decision. I've a better chance at convincing your grandfather now."

"Why are you doing this Aliyaar?" I looked at him earnestly.

"I'm not sure, I have the answer to that question anymore." His eyes were still set upon me and I felt myself wilt under his stare. And then he suddenly pressed his hand against my forehead.  "I don't think you have fever anymore. Let's go down for lunch." He said, breaking the tension.

My eyes landed on the now empty bowl of soup in his hand and my eyes widened, "You've tricked me into finishing the whole bowl."

"I'm a talented man." He shrugged complacently. "You don't have to eat, but you need to get out of your room." He said getting up, tugging me with him.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

A faint pink still lingered around the edge of the sky, but the propitious sky had faded into the darkness. The pearly white clouds that marbled the expansive blue sea, floated like dreary hollow balls of chocking dust.

These past weeks I had suffered tremendously, my emotions had wreaked me like a hurricane, trampling my feelings and my confidence. I felt the vortex of the winds clip my core and question my existence. Every truth I ever believed in seemed to mock me while every lie seemed to hug me. I was home yet I was lost.

But today, all my anxiety, confusion and indecisiveness had ebbed away into nothingness. All pain, despair and anguished that raked my existence had vaporised and vanished, leaving behind an earthy feeling of calm and serenity. Tonight as I made my own decision, I felt liberated.

"Aliyaar Bhai likes you." I heard Layla say behind me and I couldn't help but notice the annoyance underlining her voice. "Can't you see it?"

"I know. I might not want to admit it, but I'm not blind." I said calmly. Layla's frown deepened, her forehead wrinkled with faint annoyance.

"How long are you going to hide? Stop lying to yourself." She said coldly.

"I've made my decision Layla." I said turning back to the window.

"You wouldn't call off the wedding." She scowled in disbelief

I shook my head. "No. Our family needs this alliance. I won't overburden our parents anymore."

"He is risking everything for you."

I gulped hearing her words, "I've made the right decision, Layla. I've realised Yaar is my comfort zone, warm and familiar. Aliyaar is a wild ride, uncertain and full of surprises."

"I really hope you've made the right decision then." She said cynically.

I smiled at her ruefully.

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