"Trust comes slow; it goes fast."

Saturday - 8:12am

The morning came swiftly. Sleep, unfortunately, didn't.

All night, she tossed and turned in her bed, her mind racing every which way as thoughts and possibilities and consequences ran through her brain. The moment she fell on her bed after all but running from Ibrahim, her heart beating wildly in her chest, endless emotions and thoughts clawed at her mind.

She was not prepared for yesterday's confrontation. God, she wasn't, and it showed. Not only had she slapped the man, he also somehow managed to convince her to listen to him. Had she been in her senses, she wouldn't have, in a thousand damn years, agreed to his demands but she had and even the thought sickened her.

Hemayal knew herself, knew her strengths and knew her weaknesses. Ibrahim Yazdani happened to be both - weakening her resolve every time their eyes collided; strengthening it whenever the memories of him hit her. And she knew with certainty that one more meeting with that man and she'll end up in a hospital - she had to stay away from him, by all means necessary.

Damn.

"Hemayal, how was the night?" Arsala questioned from beside her, both women descending the elevator quietly, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Ahh, yeah," Hemayal sighed, pulling herself out of her thoughts, ready for another day. "It was fine."

"You don't look fine. Did you even sleep last night?" She began again, worry in her eyes as she regarded Hemayal's which were crowded with dark circles.

"On and off. The bed was uncomfortable." Hemayal replied with a shrug, not looking at her friend.

"The bed..." Arsala trailed off, clearly confused, before shaking her head. "Who was that man?"

Hemayal had been expecting this question for a long time now and she still had no idea how to respond.

Who was Ibrahim Yazdani?

Her husband? Her love? Her enemy? Her kidnapper?

"I just happen to know him. Family friends." Hemayal had perfected the mask of nonchalance by now, no crack in her appearance whatsoever as she replied, not willing to give much away.

"Are you on bad terms with him?" Arsala asked just as the elevator door opened with a hiss and both ladies walked out together.

"He's an ass." Hemayal replied, voice stern as she shook her head slightly in annoyance.

Damn, she didn't want anyone questioning her right now, especially about Ibrahim. She had had enough of that man for a lifetime, in all honesty, and all she wanted to do was be done with one more conversation she was supposed to have with him before actually taking a restraining order against him.

Coincidences, my ass. He had been following her around all the time.

"What did he even do to you?" Arsala asked, laughing slightly at Hemayal's choice of words as they both walked through the crowded lobby.

"He took something very precious of mine, something I didn't-dammit." Hemayal groaned with an eye roll as she stopped in her tracks, glaring straight ahead with annoyance filling her veins.

Arsala stopped beside her too, clearly having witnessed Hemayal's reason to halt by now, looking between the two people who were only staring at each other, the world around them moving into periphery. Slowly, she saw the man excusing himself from some other person he was talking to, eyes still on Hemayal, before walking in their direction with determined steps.

"Hemayal." He greeted with a nod, politely.

"Ibrahim." Hemayal replied, anything but.

They both stared at each other for a minute - Hemayal with distaste, Ibrahim with reluctance - before Ibrahim tore his gaze from Hemayal and looked in Arsala's direction, acknowledging her presence with a polite smile who returned it with a confused smile of her own.

"Arsala, this is Ibrahim, a family friend. Ibrahim, Arsala, colleague and a good friend." Hemayal introduced the two people, eyes moving between the two with clear restraint, wanting nothing more but to remove herself from anywhere around this man.

At the word family friend, Ibrahim's eyes flickered to Hemayal for a second but he didn't say anything, turning back to Arsala and exchanging words of greetings. After a moment, Arsala walked forward, leaving the two people alone to stare at each other - one clearly not happy with the arrangement.

"I'm sorry." Ibrahim began, his voice serious as he looked deeply in her eyes, so deep that she thought he could read her mind behind with no difficulty whatsoever.

Closing her eyes for a second and shaking her head, Hemayal steeled herself with a deep breath before opening her eyes. She knew the effect this man had on her, she couldn't deny it, didn't want to. Her best approach would be to accept it, let her mind take the reins instead of her heart and leave this place with head held high.

She had been humiliated at his hands once; she wouldn't allow it again.

"Are you?" Hemayal replied, voice cool as she stared directly in his eyes that were the lightest shade of brown.

"I am, really. I shouldn't have handled you like that." Ibrahim replied, all the traces of humor that were present in his tone last night gone as he conversed like the man he was famous for - a regal businessman and an accountant who was fierce in his dealings.

"You manhandled me, Ibrahim," Hemayal replied, voice stern, knowing that she was pronouncing his name for the first time in front of him, and he knew it too, if the slight crack in his mask of seriousness was any indication, but she couldn't control herself, not when he was so serious. "You did it once before too and that's the reason we stand here today like this. I won't tolerate it ever again."

"I'll keep that in mind; it won't happen again. I'm sorry." He replied, staring at her, not a single crack in his appearance of solemnity.

"Why are you here?" Hemayal asked, not quite able to understand this confusing man life had given her.

All the time that she'd met him before, he was either humorous or upset but this seriousness and soberness - damn, this man will be the death of her. She had prepared herself, all night long, for his previous attitudes if she ever met him today but this gravity in his voice and expressions wasn't something she was prepared for.

But for now, she was glad. Better a serious man who was willing to talk than a quirky one who tested her patience all the damn time. Yes, she'd do well with this attitude of his.

"I wanted to ask about what you said last night, about willing to listen to me. Do you still want that? I'll understand if you don't." He asked, like he was doing business and Hemayal found herself nodding her head mechanically.

"No, I stand by what I said. I'll listen to you." Hemayal replied, knowing with surety that this man wouldn't leave her alone until she'd heard his side of the story.

"Alright, does dinner sound good to you? Tonight?" He asked, the light brown flecks in his eyes swirling as he fixed his eyes only on hers, his face not wandering over her features like before.

Dinner? God, she thought it would just be a normal conversation that would last a total of ten minutes which they could have standing right here in the lobby, if it comes to it. Dinner was not something she was expecting, not something she wanted but then a thought hit her out of nowhere and all her reluctance evaporated.

Yes, she needed him to speak.

"No, not tonight, I have a busy day today. But I'll be free by six tomorrow and we can have it then." Hemayal said, her mind going over her schedule for the two days and found herself saying, forcing her mind away from the thought that this was the most peaceful conversation she ever had with him up till now.

Where were they going, she thought with dread.

"Alright, whatever suits you well." Ibrahim replied with a nod.

Sudden silence descended upon them as they both continued to stare at each other for a long moment, the people around losing their importance as their eyes gazed without blinking. Ibrahim's expressions of gravity cracked and so did Hemayal's annoyance, both of them laid bare before each other but for a moment, only for a moment.

Hemayal turned her guards straight up before coughing slightly, tearing her gaze away from his heated stare, insides flushing. With a mumble of, "I've gotta go," she hurried past him, not daring another glance in his direction for she knew how weak how this man could make her.

"Hemayal!" he called from behind, turning around to face the woman who had, until then, straightened her mask of nonchalance and indifference. "I want your phone number."

"Like you don't have it already." Hemayal replied after a moment of stunned silence, watching as he hid himself again behind his mask.

"I did but I deleted it. I want you to give it to me this time." He replied, voice soft and sincere and Hemayal sighed deeply before narrating her number to him, ignoring her heart that missed a beat at his confession.

"Goodbye." She said quickly and without waiting for his reply, exited the lobby, her heart in her goddamn throat.

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Sunday - 6:31pm

The evening had descended on Karachi much quickly for her liking, the anticipation and nervousness now a permanent residence inside of her, tearing her heart that throbbed beneath her breast bone. All day, she had refused to give much thought to the confrontational dinner she was to have with Ibrahim Yazdani in the evening, but now, sitting on her bed, dressed to perfection with a mobile in her hand, she found her throat closing.

Café Flo, 26th Street, Block 4, Clifton.

7 pm.

P.s. Don't wear heels.

Ibrahim's text was opened on her phone and she had been gazing at it for the past few minutes. After a call from him in which he had offered to drive her to the restaurant and she had fervently declined, he had sent her a text, stating the address to the place they were supposed to dine in tonight.

Along with that cryptic note attached of not wearing heels. What the hell was this man planning?

Sighing heavily, Hemayal straightened her back before standing in her place, running her hands over the fabric that covered her dress. Wearing a floral, peach-colored palazzo complimented with white silk blouse and chanel jacket, she had her face painted with minimal make-up. Brown hair, parted from the middle, fell on her shoulders and down her chest in regal waves. A single, golden watch wrapped around her wrist and studs touched her earlobes as the final droplets of perfume lost their identity on her dress just as she exited the room after a final glance in the mirror.

What possessed her to dress up for the night was beyond her, every sensible and vengeful part of her was tearing her conscious as she dressed herself to elegance. Ever since first shade of make-up blended on her face, she had been chanting in her mind that this was not for that man - it was for herself and Ibrahim Yazdani could all but go to hell.

But deep down, she knew it was a lie, knew that repeating the words won't make them any less false. She knew why she put so much effort in a simple dinner, knew it was only to remind that man what he had and what he had so foolishly lost. She knew every inch of her had dolled up for him and despite her mind's warning, she had no regrets.

Taking her place in the backseat of the car Sarim had so graciously offered to her, Hemayal managed a sigh and told the driver the address. As the car set in motion, so did her thoughts, all focusing on Ibrahim and her plans for tonight. She could expect what the man wanted to say tonight, knew all the ways he would try to break the shell around her heart but Hemayal had spent a good few hours freezing it, making herself immune to his words and actions.

The man was a charmer, a gentleman who played with words, but Hemayal promised herself not to fall this time, for she knew that if she did, there was no getting back up again.

As the car entered the parking lot, Hemayal's eyes wandered outside for a moment but failed to return as she spotted Ibrahim leaning against a car, eyes downcast as he typed on his mobile phone. His stance was casual, so was his dressing - cream-colored slacks paired with dark blue knitted sweater over a light blue dress shirt and desert boots. The evening sun descended behind him, wind ruffling with his black locks and there he stood, managing to look chic despite being miles from formality

Thanks heavens she didn't overdress, Hemayal thought with a sigh.

As the car slowed before coming to a halt, Hemayal had enough time to check him out unashamedly and gather herself afterwards. So when she opened the door to face him, she was prepared, in all sense of the words. Thanking the driver, she turned around and moved towards him, who, by then, had raised his head from the phone and was now eyeing her coming towards him.

Pocketing his phone while eyes still on her, Ibrahim straightened only when Hemayal had reached him, the wind fluttering her clothes and appreciation his eyes. When his eyes finally met with hers after roaming over her body, a soft smile touched his lips and Hemayal knew the appraise that danced in his eyes.

Ah, men.

But despite that, he didn't voice his praise; she didn't expect it either.

"You're wearing heels." He only remarked, his voice not containing anger or reprimand; just plain statement it was.

"I didn't bring any flats with me." Hemayal replied, looking fiercely in his eyes as she continuously adjusted her hair due to harsh wind.

Ibrahim raised brows at her flat lie, obviously having seen her wearing flats the night at the rooftop, but didn't comment any further. Gesturing his hand towards the entrance with a polite, "After you," Ibrahim walked behind Hemayal as they both made their way towards the narrow, stoned passage that led towards the main entrance.

Without giving him a chance to open the door for her, Hemayal stepped inside the place that immediately reminded her of home. The place, despite being rich in class and grace, gave a homely vibe with frames hanging off the wall and wooden chairs neatly spread everywhere. Wandering the eyes over the small place, she was in admiration.

Suddenly, she felt a hand at the small of her back, her whole body stiffening as hew jaw tensed but thankfully, she resumed her pace after a momentary stop, Ibrahim's hand only for guidance. As soon as they reached their table by the window, his hand immediately left and he pulled a chair for her before sitting on his own.

Placing her clutch on the table, Hemayal took a chair, eyes settling everywhere except on the man who was obviously staring at her. After a few minutes when waiter had left after taking their order, Hemayal finally managed a sigh before turning to him and just as she had expected, his eyes were on her.

"You're staring." She remarked while gulping the water, uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny.

"What's not to stare?" He chuckled with a slight shake of his head, smile widening and Hemayal felt her heart flutter - literally.

"You and your words." She said with a shake of her own, frown covering her lips. "Why didn't you want me to wear heels?"

"I thought we could go to the beach afterwards," he replied. "It's quite near."

"Yeah, not happening. I have a flight to catch at 10 and what on heavens made you think I'll agree to it?" Hemayal asked with an eye roll.

"You do that a lot." Ibrahim cocked his head to the side as he said, eyes intensely fixed on her.

"What?"

"Eye roll," he said with raised brows and Hemayal rolled her eyes, this time intentionally and a small chuckle left his lips. "Yeah, that."

"I was wondering when you'd start talking about the real issue here. When you're done judging me, maybe?" Hemayal snapped, every word intentional as she bought them back to the track, knowing she can't afford to have random talks with him - too much was at stake.

That wiped the smile from his face, brows furrowing for a second before the same impassive expression settled on his face which she had witnessed yesterday morning. Good. Now he will remain in his goddamn limits, she thought.

"Judging and stating are two different things, Hemayal." He remarked with pressed lips, all humor gone from his voice.

"Ibrahim, we're not here for some random discussion where I tell you how good you look and then you say the same. Come to business." Hemayal stated sternly.

"You think I look good?" He asked with a small smirk but the ease was still absent in his voice.

"Not the damn point." She snapped, eyes glaring and Ibrahim immediately raised his hands in defense, obviously asking her to calm down.

"Alright, alright. This is a small place, don't be too loud," he said, eyes moving over the place for a second before coming back to Hemayal who was still frowning. "Fine, ask me whatever you need to ask."

"I thought you were telling everything from your point of view." Hemayal replied, calming herself down with deep breaths.

"Well, yeah, that's the plan. But if there's anything specific you want to know, we'll talk about that first." He replied, elbows resting on the table with fingers crossed and placed beneath the chin, eyes intently fixed on Hemayal.

"Why on earth did you kidnap me?" Hemayal asked, voice calm but stern.

"Ammu's accident - it was hit and run. That really messed up my mind. If you...I mean that woman, Humna, had stayed, I doubt I would have done anything. But the way she ran away," he sighed. "It really got to me."

"And kidnapping was the only solution?" she gritted her teeth. "What are you, mafia?"

Despite the tension, Ibrahim chuckled slightly and shook his head. "It wasn't, neither only nor best, but it was all I could think of. It was easy to do, quick and specific - no one else was involved."

"You do know that's some extra level of messedup-ness, right?" She asked, one brow raised.

"Yeah." He sighed heavily, dropping his head for a second, as if the very conversation exhausted his nerves and this was only just the beginning.

"And how did you get everything messed up? How was I kidnapped instead of her?" Hemayal asked the question that had been in her mind since the beginning.

"That, I still don't know. I never met the men directly; I had someone contact them and give them the information. There were two files, one of you, one of her. The man probably mixed it, for all I know." Ibrahim replied, trying and failing to act casual.

"Do you trust that man? I mean, maybe he intentionally handed the wrong file to those men?" Hemayal questioned, eyes narrowed and saw as Ibrahim's brows furrowed thoughtfully for a second before he quickly shook his head.

"No, no. That's...that's not possible. Adam is very trustworthy, he's loyal. He's probably older than Abbu, been in our family for so many years. He wouldn't do that. He must have made a mistake." Even the thought somehow unsettled Ibrahim and after staring at him for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, Hemayal knew he wouldn't understand.

"He might have, he might have not. You should at least ask him." Hemayal said with an even tone, not judging, just stating and she finally knew what he meant before.

"I will, if that's what you want." He nodded, clearly unconvinced.

"It's not about what I want but what should be done in the first place." Hemayal stated and Ibrahim only nodded, not in any mood to argue with her on this. "Why did you have my file, though? I know you're an accomplished stalker but this much?"

"No, no," he chuckled slightly. "It isn't anything serious like you're thinking. Mustafa and I were just talking about you that day and he convinced me that I should finally talk to you about the marriage thing and what we have to do with it. I had no means of contact so I thought I could find that on my own, you know. Contact number, address, stuff like that. It was before the whole accident thing."

"It's still not okay. You wanted to contact me, you should have come to me." Hemayal responded, tone lighter for the waiter had just approached their table and placed their respective dishes in front of them.

"I didn't know anything about you, didn't know where to start. It was just some basic things." Ibrahim responded and Hemayal shook her head.

"No, those basic things got me kidnapped and got Dadu dead-" Abruptly leaving her sentence hanging, Hemayal bit her tongue as her gaze hardened, her stature stiffening as she focused on her food.

"I'm sor-" Ibrahim began but was immediately cut off.

"Don't. Don't say a word." She quickly shook her head, clearing her head and pushing all the painful memories into periphery.

"Okay," he said, nodding his head slowly, lips pursed. "You didn't ask me why I didn't recognize you."

His quick attempt to get the topic changed and bring them back to the original discussion was appreciated by Hemayal who sighed, relaxing slightly in her seat. With food caught between the fork, she held it in mid-air as she replied.

"I don't blame you for that. I didn't recognize you either when we first met." Hemayal replied, chewing on her food that melted on her tongue, eliciting a small moan from her.

The French cuisine here really was exquisite.

"But something happened later..." Ibrahim purposely let the statement hang, knowing Hemayal will catch up and she did.

"I saw you in some restaurant a few days later. Mehmal was with me, she remembered you and your siblings. And then I saw you at that workshop later; your probably came to collect your car." She replied nonchalantly, hating how normal the conversation was, furious that she couldn't do anything about it.

"You saw me at the workshop?" Ibrahim asked, bewildered and Hemayal raised her eyes without moving her head, looking at him from under her lashes.

"Yeah, it's pretty hard to miss a guy who stares at you for two minutes straight, don't you think?" she replied casually, not insulting or taunting. "And some person said your name. I wonder how many Mr. Yazdani there are in Abbotabbad."

"You bewitched me that day." Ibrahim replied, not looking at her, her gaze fixed at the window behind which the sun had set and the sky was a deep shade of black, clearly thoughtful.

"What?" Hemayal asked, confused and flushed and Ibrahim turned his eyes towards her and after a long, meaningful glance, closed his eyes and sighed.

"Nothing. What were we talking about?" He asked, brows still furrowed and after a quizzical glance in his direction, Hemayal gave up.

Ibrahim Yazdani was beyond her understanding, anyway.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked, eyes still fixed on his food.

"Yeah." She replied, despite having promised herself before that she wouldn't answer any of his questions.

"How did the cars get mixed?" He asked and Hemayal sighed.

"The car I was driving that day, when we had the accident, it was Humna's. Mine was back in Islamabad. I had some errands to run so I borrowed hers. The car that hit your mother was hers but I wasn't driving it that time." She replied.

"Yeah, that's where all hell broke loose." He sighed and Hemayal's gaze turned frosty.

"No, all hell broke loose because you acted on impulse; you took it upon yourself to punish the woman without thinking for a second when it wasn't your place to do it. And all hell broke loose Ibrahim Yazdani because you didn't listen to me that night. So don't blame it on others!" Hemayal snapped, voice hard and Ibrahim stared at her through her rant with a passive face and when she was done, sighed heavily.

"You're right. All of it happened because I'm a bastard." He shook his head while mumbling but Hemayal still managed to understand.

"Yeah, that you are," her voice was cold when she uttered and went back to her food. "Anyways, I think I'm done with my questions. You can tell whatever you have to say."

"I think you already know why I did what I did, what's there left to say?" He asked, physically exhausted and Hemayal raised her head, pushing the plate forward, done with her food.

"Where did you take me that day?" Hemayal asked, fixing her hard gaze on him who, by then, was long finished with food.

"It was just some motel I owned, outside Abbottabad," he replied, both staring at each other with pain, exhaustion and anger. "What do you think will happen to us now, Hemayal?"

"What is that supposed to happen? I'll take divorce." She replied, wanting to sound as much distasteful as she actually did but the way his eyes stared at her with gentle sadness, some part of her heart did break for all of it had always loved her.

"Without giving our relationship a chance?" He asked, sounding genuinely upset.

"You call this a relationship, Ibrahim?" She asked, a frown on her face.

After that, he didn't say a word.

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ahh, wrote all of it today. thanks god it finished.

how was it?

till next time,
salam!