•| moon |•

•••
apni hi tegh-e-ada se
aap ghayal ho gaye,
chand ne paani mein
dekha aur pagal ho gaya
•••

Fidah had nearly spent a week in Zarrar Hamidi's penthouse and other than overthinking the entire situation to pieces she had somehow managed to wrap her head around everything that was going on in her life. She was exhausted that was for sure, but the thought that she was safe also lingered.

Zarrar Hamidi as she had come to know in the short time she was around him, he was quite the gentle giant with her. He never treated her with anything but respect and gave her the space she needed. The sudden nikkah was something that she hadn't gathered the courage to talk out with him and neither had he.

The only proper conversation she had with him was exactly a day after she had arrived. After breakfast he had called her to his study and took it upon himself to inform her that he was going to ask Ashraf Hamidi, his grandfather what this whole fiasco was about. Fidah seemed detached about it anyways at this point. She wanted to have a normal life and her gut feeling told that Ashraf Hamidi and her Baba shared anything but a normal relationship. She was however eternally grateful to Zarrar for the sanctuary he had provided her with.

"I want to work. I can't mooch off you like this, I am going to lose my sanity this way." She had stressed out, looking at him helplessly.

"You don't have any of your documents with you how do you think you are going to seek employment?" He contradicted back in the harshest ways possible and her heart tore into a million pieces at the reality. Why had her identity become so meaningless?

"I—I will work odd jobs. I will do anything but I can't sit around simply or-r I will leave. I don't want to be an obligation to you."

In that moment she saw his eyes turn a shade darker as he clenched his jaw, seizing him down with her gaze.
"You are no obligation to me. I earn enough to support the both of us and more. If you do want to work, I will get you a job."

Fidah shivered at the intensity to his words, she couldn't for the life of her understand the man and his blatant favours for her. Why was he hellbent on becoming her saving grace? Why was he bounding her to his favours more so than she already was?

The next few days went by in mundane activities, she lounged around the house, spoke to Basim or the house help, Kashana. Sometimes even tried cooking. She rarely saw him after that. Just fleeting glances and short conversations, mostly him asking her about how her day was or if she needed anything.

Today however when she got up in the morning much to her surprise she found him along with Basim in the outdoor patio garden, playing badminton.

"Basim!" There he stood clad in black chinos and a grey Ralph Laurent sweatshirt, his hair ruffled in waves. "I know you are pathetic at playing but you could at least put in some effort."

"I am putting in effort! Go easy on me, will you?"

"Put in more effort. This is not sufficient." Zarrar's loud voice boomed as he swiped the white shuttlecock sending it fluttering right into poor Basim's forehead. Basim who had gotten sight of Fidah's presence rubbed his forehead, shooting a glare at him employer.

"How unfit can one be to play a simple sport like Badminton?" Ignoring Zarrar, Basim trudged towards Fidah greeting her.

"Awesome! Fidah Baji has come just at the right time." Thrusting the racquet in her arms, he mouthed a "save me"., "She can take over for my unfit opponent skills."

"Basim, what are you doing?" Zarrar thundered, his eyes in slits now.

"Zarrar Sahab. Mujhe maaf kardein, aaj mujhe allah mian ki gaaen banne ka shok nahi hai." Basim hurriedly replied running away, leaving Fidah to snort out loudly at his words.

"You don't have to play. I am going to cut that ill mannered beghairat's salary." He said dismissively turning around to leave, but Fidah quickly chimed in walking to the side where Basim stood seconds ago. "I want to play. I mean, we could play. You and Me."

Zarrar looked at her in disbelief. For the first time since they had met, there was defiance and challenge swirling through her hazel eyes.

"I can play better than Basim." She picked up the shuttlecock, aligning it with the racquet and looked after him expectantly.

"Alright." Taking his stance, she nodded, swinging the racquet and let the shuttlecock fly right past Zarrar, who was quick to serve back. They did this a few times back and forth, until Fidah lost a point.
She was right, she played ten times better than Basim, who couldn't stand his ground even if his life depended on it.

"Okay, I want to make a deal.." Fidah, said breathing heavily, a few strands of her hair peaking out from within the confines of her shawl, Zarrar's hands itched to tuck the hair in, to touch her soft skin.

"A deal?"

"Yes, a deal. If I win, I will work, I will pay you back of whatever you have done for me till now."

Zarrar frowned, not understanding her plight to recurrently demand working. He didn't need her to pay him back. Although he did say he would get her a job, hadn't he? As if reading his mind, she contumaciously retorted.
"I feel indebted to you. I am not doing anything productive and the least I can ask of you is to let me pay you back. I am not used to a life of dependency and I refuse to do it now just because you and I are hemmed in a relationship."

This was the first time either of them had mentioned their relationship; their nikkah. And Zarrar finally comprehended why she was feeling this way. Their circumstances weren't ideal and she must've felt that, despite him not posing any obligation on it.

"Very well, what will I get if I win?" The businessman in him spoke, his mind looming over the possibility of his victory which was high. She was two points behind him anyways.

"What do you want? I have nothing to offer." She sputtered out almost embarrassed, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Basim told me you baked the chocolate tart that he served me with my coffee yesterday."

She nodded her head frowning, not under where this conversation was going.

"If I win you will bake me something every week."

"You liked it?"

"I did. Do we have a deal, then?" Zarrar said, raising a perfect eyebrow in her direction, causing her to squeak out an immediate yes, her lips turning up into an eager smile.

And then the game began, her against him, both of them played fiercely, the shuttlecock flying left and right. Neither refused to back down. Finally after an intense match that lasted barely ten minutes, the shuttlecock and racquets dropped. Zarrar Hamidi winning.

Fidah dropped to the ground dejected breathing heavily, her chest heaving against the confines of the kurti that the maid had gotten for her a few days back. It was a little tight around the bust, but she mostly covered it with a big shawl, because of the fervent game, it had moved and was in clear vicinity of Zarrar's gaze.

"You win." She said causing his gaze to snap away from her figure as he took meaningful steps towards her.

"I do, indeed." He forwarded his hand, as if to help her get up. She complied without much thought slipping her warm sweaty palm over his rough rigid one, he pulled her up. Standing close to him, their chests almost touching.

Her hazel eyes clashing against his intense grey ones and her heart lurched at their proximity. If either one of them moved they would be touching a lot more than what would be appropriate.

"Zarrar Sahab, your phone is ringing." Basim's shrill voice echoed from within the walls of the house, but neither of them refused to move away.

"I will take you out to buy clothes in the evening, okay? Be ready." Zarrar finally whispered out, breaking eye contact, as his fingers unconsciously tucked the insolent strands of hair that were framing her face. His fingers lightly caressing her skin, sending fireworks down her spine.

"Hmm? Is that okay?" He questioned again, stepping back a little his hand still clutching hers.

"Okay." She replied back breathless. It felt like they had slipped into a certain kind of intimacy from which they couldn't recover, not that both of them wanted to anyways.

Nodding at her, he stepped away, walking back into the living room.

_____

Fidah wanted to refuse now even if she couldn't do it in the morning given how their proximity had rendered her compliant in all heat and longing. Her body had reacted in ways that she hadn't known of before. Was it the lack of human touch that irked her hormones or was it just the sheer comfort she felt around him she didn't know.

But all her resolve flew out of the window when she saw him coming back much much earlier than his usual time. Typing away on his phone, his coat swung leisurely on one arm. She couldn't remove her gaze away from him. How had she become so shameful?

"Are you ready?"

"Urm..No..actually..I" She stuttered out embarrassed, causing him to raise a perfect eyebrow in her direction. Shrugging helplessly she nodded her head. What a freak.

Soon they were seated in Zarrar's car, the memories of their hug, his consoling, her sobbing like a fool on his chest, everything came rushing back like cold water dumped on their heads. The veracity of their fate, of their impending decision heaved down into a heavy uncomfortable silence.

Fidah shook her head, gulping audibly as she pulled the seat belt over her body, turning her head towards the other side. She could feel his gaze on her but she suppressed the urge to look back at him.

Soon they reached the mall, the unfamiliar streets of the city made her head buzz with adrenaline as well as anxiety. She wanted to cling close to Zarrar, the only person she knew who wouldn't harm her. Her past had left her insecure and incredibly conscious of her surroundings.

Zarrar soon led her to a huge designer clothing shop, Fidah all the while sticking close to his side although not touching him.

She had never been an extrovert but she managed just fine without much difficulty in her day to day life back home. Now she felt like her entire world had crumbled and she was standing without protection, without so much as a home.

"Show her your best collection." Zarrar had told the salesgirl after exchanging greeting.

The overwhelming feeling started overpowering Fidah's senses, her head now spinning into an abyss of fears, confusions and helplessness. Tears had started making their way into her eyes. She wanted to run away, back to Zarrar's home, hide in her room and sob on the prayer mat.

"You should try this, ma'am." She was handed a pretty jumpsuit, but her heart twisted with pain. Rushing into the changing room, she locked the door hurriedly, slipping down on the floor, the tears broke loose. She sobbed and sobbed, her voice turning hoarse. She had no idea why she had turned to this porcelain doll. She was better than this. Her baba had raised her better than to sob over measly things.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

Wiping her tears in a hurry, she rubbed her face raw, before replying back affirmatively.
"Yeah just a minute, can you get me a few more pieces like this?"

Only when she heard the sales girl go away did she get up from the ground opening the door, her eyes clashed in surprise with Zarrar, who stood at the entrance of the changing room.

Her breath hitched as she lowered her gaze ashamed of her condition, she heard him cut the call off as he walked towards her. Just as he was about to speak, the salesgirl returned with more clothes.

"Tell your manager to send a few clothes from each of your collections to my house along with an assistant tomorrow." Saying this, Zarrar, guided Fidah out of the shop, his hand on her lower back.

He didn't question her, he just saw her red eyes, swollen face and discomfort. He wanted to break the world apart if it meant she wouldn't cry again. His heart was uneasy at the thought of her experiencing even the slightest unease.

"Would you like to have dinner with me, Fidah?" He questioned, once they were back in the car. Her head was bowed in whatever self pity she was drowning herself in.

She looked up the slightest bit, his heart stopped at her eyes, those watered down hazel eyes that made him doubt his sanity. The pain they held made his bones quiver, his blood turned to poison.

"Why would you want to have dinner with me? Haven't I embarrassed you enough?" She said, and his heart pierced further. The irony was he would readily tear his heart out and hand it to her if that meant she would stop hurting herself.

"You didn't embarrass me, Fidah. You never could. Now answer my question, please."

"Yes.." She breathed out softly, her palms turning sweaty at his earnest gaze. This man always managed to let a zoo free in her stomach every time he spoke. He was somehow always there to hold her back together whenever she was falling apart. This was the third time since they had met and it was the most anyone had ever done for her. All her life she had needed this and he provided her just that with no questions asked.

Nodding, a small smile curved at his lips, a dimple peaking out. He then drove them to a small restaurant very hippy-ish but quaint looking in a far corner of the beach. There was quite the crowd, but Zarrar placed the order and parked the car.

"Do you have any allergies?" He questioned, switching off the car, as he turned towards her, she shook her head negatively causing him to nod, before he got down, gesturing her to follow.

This time, she didn't need to stick close because he didn't let her go, his hand lingered on her lower back, walking right behind her. Pushing her to the other side of the road that was safe from the incoming cars, he steered them to a spot on the beach where the crowd was minimal and a small table with two plastic chairs and an umbrella was placed. The seats were facing the wild sea, the salty sea breeze fanning their faces.

This time Fidah didn't hyperventilate, because for some unknown reason she found consolation in his presence. He calmed her crazy. Soon a lanky guy wearing the restaurant's neon orange logo brought in the food. It was two plates of scrumptious looking Pad Thai. One was with shrimp and the other with chicken.

Despite what Zarrar Hamidi looked like or the way he carried himself, Fidah was left wondering how he would like to eat in a place like this. He was still dressed in his formals. His white button up and straight blue pants, along with white adidas sneakers. His presence oozed elegance and power.

"Eat up!" He announced loudly, pushing the shrimp one towards her before dressing it with lemon and peanuts.

Nodding slightly, Fidah picked up the fork, twirling the flat rice noodles on her fork and putting them in her mouth. The moment she did that an unconscious moan left her lips, the sweet-savoury tamarind coated noodles blending with the crispy peanuts created a harmonious symphony for her taste buds.

"Hmm, this is so good!"

Grinning widely, Zarrar showed her his full dimples leaving her awestruck as he dived into his own noodles.

"You have dimples.." She blurted out, shell shocked. If she thought he was handsome before the dimples now made him seem no less than a man straight out of romantic movies.

"I do?" He questioned, looking up with innocent eyes from behind his glasses causing Fidah to shake her head a small smile making its way to her lips.

"You do." She affirmed, causing him to beam wider in her direction, giving her a full fledged view of his dimples.

Averting her gaze from his, the smile still lingered, she picked up the shelled shrimp, trying to peel it open but it kept slipping away from her fingers. Sighing she kept it aside, continuing her meal while enjoying the view of the night sky, soft music echoing from the restaurant not far away.

"Do you like the stars or the moon?" She questioned suddenly her eyes staring vacantly at the  moon, its eternal stoic grace shining bright in the sky.

Your eyes. Zarrar's heart skipped a beat as he looked at her gazing at the moon.
"I don't know, I prefer the dark night. Moon and Stars don't faze me." He replied, averting his gaze as he finished the remaining food on his plate.

"Why is that?"

"I don't have a philosophical reasoning behind it. I just think the moon and stars are too famed. If there was no darkness they wouldn't exist either."

"That itself is so philosophical."

"Is it?" He shrugged leaning back into his seat, as he tilted his head looking at her once again.

Nodding her head, she drew her hands to her chest.
"My Baba used to tell me a story about the Moon and a Star. The Moon in all her luminous glory captivated the adoration of all those who gazed upon her. But it was a Star, a shimmering diamond that held the key to her heart.

Every night when the Moon waxed and waned the Star was the only constant presence in her life. He whispered sweet nothings in the language of the cosmos keeping her company through thick and thin. As time passed, their love grew defying the rules of time and space.

But is a love story without pain? The celestial bodies adorning the skies scorned and sought judgment over them for defying the rules of the universe. So they cursed the Star. A fiery asteroid came slamming into the Star, crushing it to smithereens.

The devastating farewell caused the Moon to exile from the heavens. For months there was no Moon. An empty night sky, longing for the return of its beloved. The tragic love was unattainable. So the celestial bodies begged the gods for aid. For Moon." Fidah stopped suddenly, her eyes wandering restlessly across the sky.

"Did the Moon return?" Zarrar questioned enamoured by the story even though it made little sense to him, maybe it was the strange narrator who painted a vivid picture making it seem like he was witnessing a tragedy as old as time.

"What do you think? Would she have?" Fidah questioned back, her face contorting into grief.

Before Zarrar could answer, a man in his late 40s wearing a Hawaiian shirt came towards their table, two soda bottles in his hand.

"Zarrar! It's been so long. How are you, son?"

Getting up Zarrar shook his hands with the man before taking the bottles from him.

"I am good, uncle. How are you? How is aunt?"

"All good, beta. Now, who might this be?" The man said, giving Fidah a comforting smile, causing her to smile back softly as she stood up.

"This is my wife, Fidah." Zarrar replied without second thoughts causing Fidah to freeze up in shock. He said that with so much conviction that Fidah wanted to believe him. She was indeed his wife.

The two men chatted on, but Fidah's mind had suspended. Her thoughts reeled back to all the scenarios she had been imagining. What did it mean for her? Did she have a chance at a life with companionship? How could just two words have so much impact on her heart and mind? It had never crossed her mind that he would be willing to accept their nikkah. And here he had, for the first time accepted it publicly.

Slumping down on the chair, she looked at her half eaten plate of pad thai, all the shrimps were deshelled. Her lips parted in shock as her gaze flickered to Zarrar and then back to her plate. The only thought that beveled to a resignation in her mind.

Who was this man? Was he the faristha that she had prayed upon to Allah for? Was he the angel who Allah had sent to put her misery to an end?

___

a/n

hii guyss! belated eid mubarak! this was supposed to be your eidi but khair i didn't finish writing it.

How was the chapter? Did you enjoy it?
Do you think the moon returned?

Ik Fidah's emotions are all over the place but Zarrar is going to fix all of this! He is also planning to steal all the pretty readers hearts. beware ;)

I am not asking much as of yet except stick around. I am planning to finish rewriting this book by this year end insha'allah and the updates will be as quick as i can make it! Vote, Comment and Share if you wish to see super fast updates!

Anyways
Stay Safe
Love
~flawfully