وہ جو قرض رکھتے تھے جان پر
وہ حساب آج چکا دیا

Saturday - 9th November

8:32 pm

Ibrahim Yazdani had never felt dread like this before.

All the previous heartaches in his life, he'd managed to survive, managed to stay above the waters to let fresh air of hope fill his lungs every now and then, but he knew that if anything happened to the woman lying unconscious inside the Operation Theatre, he just wouldn't survive it.

Sitting on the bench outside the O.T. with head dropped in his hand and elbows resting against the knee, he felt a slight shiver rake his body every few seconds - the image of her blooded and wounded figure ingrained in his head. Sometimes, he closed the eyes to block the memory but there was no escape.

"She'll be alright, Abi." Mustafa said, sitting beside Ibrahim and placing a hand on his shoulder, his own eyes bloodshot.

"I know she'll be. She has to be okay." Ibrahim responded forcefully, clutching his hand tightly to get even a little bit of grip on his trembling form.

"Do you want me to get you some clothes here? These are all covered in blood." Mustafa asked, and Ibrahim turned his head down to glance slowly at the white of his sherwani now splotched red - with Hemayal's blood.

Blood that was lost because of him.

"Why did she have to do this, Mustafa? Why did she come in front of me?" Ibrahim asked, voice breaking into a million pieces and more by the end.

"Maybe she loves you too much." Mustafa mumbled, his own thoughts hayward.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, Mr. Whoever You Are."

"She shouldn't have...she's the last person to deserve this, Mustafa. She...she's been through so much in her life, why doesn't life just let her be?" Ibrahim exclaimed, tears clogging his throat as he struggled to get the words out.

"Pray for her, Abi. She'll be fine." Safaa said softly, taking a seat beside him and catching his bloody hands in her own, tears cascading down her cheeks too.

"And...and what if she won't?" The kind of tremor and fear that rested in Ibrahim's voice, the way his heart shook when he said the words; one thing became as clear as a crystal - he won't be able to live without her.

He had found her after so many hardships and sufferings, so many years of struggle, and now that he finally had her, why was life playing such cruel games with their love? Why were they reduced to mere two people who were played against by destiny itself?

"You know Hemayal, right? She's the strongest person I've ever known in my life; she's a fighter." Safaa said, hiccups making it difficult for her to speak but she did it anyway, a small, sad smile filling her face.

"And I swear to God, I won't forgive you then."

"Exactly, if she managed to survive through everything, she'll survive through this." Mustafa emphasized, tightening the hold of his hand on Ibrahim's shoulder and he nodded, bracing his heart and soul.

Dropping his head back in his hands, he shook slightly, praying with every fiber of his soul for her life. He begged God for a chance to have a life with her, for granting him this miracle so he can give her the happiness she'd been denied all her life.

"You know, Ibrahim, this is the happiest I've been in twenty-four years of my life."

He words filled her ears and his heart died a little.

She didn't know happiness, didn't know how it tasted when it melted in your mouth, how it vibrated in your veins with every beat, and he wanted to give that to her, a thing that had always been foreign territory for her. And now that she finally was, why did life have to pull this cruel joke on her?

Allah, please let her live.

Just then, the O.T. door opened and a doctor in green scrubs walked out, pulling the mask from his face as he looked around for the family, a family who after a mere glance at him had rushed. Questions - hurried, impatient and pained - shot from all side, and the doctor nodded before beginning slowly.

"The bullet damaged her right kidney and liver, and though we've removed it, she's still critical. She lost too much blood before coming here and the chances of going into a shock are still present. Please pray for her." The doctor informed, voice professional but emphatic, and after a nod, turned around and walked back inside, leaving an array of horrified people behind.

"Have you been following me?"

"My daughter! My Hami!" Shehryar's Khakwani's cry was the first to sound after the dreadful silence as he collapsed on the bench, tears of pain and regret sprawled all over his face.

"She'll be okay, Baba." Hadeed and Jahangir Khakwani rushed to him, comforting a broken father who continued to cry at the condition of his daughter.

"Hadeed, I did so wrong to her...I had yet to make up for it...why...why did this happen?" He cried softly, dropping his head back against the white wall, looking every shade of pained.

"She's our Hami, Shehryar, she'll survive this, she always does." Shehryar's Khakwani brother spoke, tears gathered in his eyes too.

"She has to. I don't want to live in a world where my Hami isn't present." Mehmal said, sitting on the cold, marble floor a little distance away with arms wrapped around her legs, looking straight ahead with a stare that was so dead, horror filled Ibrahim as he silently went to her.

"Mehmal..." Ibrahim began, crouching down in front of her, and Mehmal's gaze first shifted to his blood-stained clothes before rising to meet his eyes.

"She shouldn't have loved you so much...she...she didn't deserve this, Ibrahim," Mehmal whimpered, so much pain behind her lids that Ibrahim almost doubled over in his own. "I get it, I get it...you were her only happiness in this life, you were the only one who ever made her this happy... but no, no, my Hami didn't deserve this."

"I'll rather not reach home altogether than go with you."

"I'm so sorry..." Ibrahim mumbled softly; in contrast to Mehmal, his tears falling right on his heart instead of down his cheeks.

"You shouldn't have come back in her life," Mehmal cried softly, her entire figure shaking. "She wasn't happy but at least she was alive."

"She will be fine, Mehmal, I promise." Ibrahim said, placing his hand on her knees but Mehmal only shook her head.

"If anything happens to her, I won't ever forgive you. Do you hear me?" Mehmal said, her eyes turning hot as she fixed him with a broken stare.

Trust me, Mehmal, I wouldn't forgive myself either, Ibrahim thought as he slowly got up - the conversation with Mehmal magnifying the guilt and regrets latching on his heart for the past hour. Slowly, he made his way to the bench placed at the far end of the corridor, his gait that of an utterly heartbroken man, and when his father began to move towards him, Ibrahim only slightly shook his head, expressions desperate.

And just like that in that posture, three hours passed without any news from the doctor, each second a different kind of pain, each breath a trouble. And that's when the door opened, and the doctor hurriedly walked outside, his eyes raking across the corridor.

"She's gaining consciousness and calling for her Dadu. Is he here?" The doctor asked and Ibrahim who was rushing up to him stopped short, another bolt of pain shooting through him.

"No, he has passed away." Mehmal answered, hope striking her face at the news of Hemayal's consciousness.

"Oh, okay and maybe someone Aab, Ibra. We didn't quite catch what she was saying..." The doctor asked again, glancing hopefully around the corridor.

"Ibrahim!" Ammu said loudly, tears of gratitude filling her face as she gently pushed Ibrahim forward who with a shell-shocked expression took a step forward.

"Yes, yes, Ibrahim. You are her?" The doctor asked, looking at Ibrahim who hadn't quite recovered from the pain and shock yet.

Hemayal had forsaken her life for his; Hemayal was calling his name now.

Who was this woman and what did he ever do to deserve her love?

"Husband." Ibrahim mumbled, and the doctor nodded.

"She's stable but we can't say anything with certainty for now. We're waiting for her to wake up, see how she's responding before making any further decisions," the doctor said, and everyone nodded, his first sentence having given them enough hope to pay any attention to the rest. "Ibrahim, you come with me."

Slowly following the doctor, Ibrahim entered the lifeless wards of the operation theatre before the doctor directed him to a room near the entrance. Entering, Ibrahim was given a pair of scrubs and a mask, slowly asked to not put the patient under any stress as he was directed to a bright room at the end of the corridor.

Slowly, he entered the room and what he saw, took his breath away.

There she lay, lifeless and pale and wounded - his Hemayal. Syringes and tubes piercing her skin with her vitals displayed on the large monitors, she had her eyes closed and head directed to the side as an oxygen mask fitted across her mouth.

Pain like never before hit him strongly across the chest and he stumbled on his step as he walked deep inside, the tears he'd attempted so hard to hide finally breaking the dam as one flowed down his face which he didn't even bother to wipe.

All of this was his doing - he deserved the pain.

"Hemayal!" He whispered softly as he took a seat by her bed, holding her fragile hand in his softly as his lips trembled.

Once, he had seen this woman cry and lose herself and the mere sight had irrevocably changed something in him. And now, seeing her in this state, robbed of her smiles and sass, he finally realized what real pain must feel like, what heart must sound like when it breaks.

"I need a break, Ibrahim."

"Ib... ra... him..." His name was a broken whisper on her lips and he leaned forward, his lips pressing against her cheek every so slightly before murmuring.

"I'm here." He whispered in her ear, voice soft and pained.

Slowly, she removed the mask from her face and opened her eyes, the gaze not focused as it landed on him.

"Why did you have to do that, Hemayal?" Ibrahim cried softly as he said, rubbing his thumb across her temple as he leaned forward.

"I had to..." Hemayal murmured, voice clearing a bit as she smiled, a broken, half-smile that threw him in an ocean of misery. "I ca... can't lose you now..."

"I can't lose you either, baby. Please be alright." Ibrahim stressed, his fingers now running through her hair, their faces mere inches apart.

"I wan...wanted to have a life... with you..." Hemayal murmured, eyes tired but she forced them apart, looking at Ibrahim with the kind of love he'd never seen before.

"We'll have an eternity together." Ibrahim smiled, a small smile full of hope, as he kissed her hand and Hemayal sighed heavily.

"I like...I like the sou...sound of that..." Hemayal murmured and Ibrahim's breath arrested as his hand trembled, lips pressing tightly to keep the tears inside.

"You'll be okay, baby, and then we will have a life together - a life of happiness and only that. I promise." Ibrahim said, smiling brightly for her sake, and a small smile lifted one corner of Hemayal's lip too as she breathed.

"I wanted...to say some...thing to you...always...wanted..." Hemayal said, words jumbled but Ibrahim nodded quickly, pressing another kiss on her forehead as he encouraged her.

"Yeah?" He murmured.

"I love you." Hemayal said weakly and Ibrahim's breath caught in his air passageway, heart stopping for a second before going into fibrillation.

Hemayal had never uttered these words to him before, never. These words were foreign territory for her, he knew, and despite knowing that she always did, he never forced her. Only because he always thought that they have a whole life to say that to each other - oh, life and its games.

"I always did... never said it... before... because ego... but I wish that I could get... one... one more day to say that... like I planned to." Hemayal said, tears leaking from her eyes and Ibrahim kissed them away before they could mark the pillow, his own lips pressed tightly.

"Fine, then. Let's make a deal, okay?" Ibrahim cheered her, tears now gathering in his eyes but his attempts to arrest them were remarkable. "You get fine and you can say that to me all day, every day. Okay?"

"Okay." Hemayal chuckled softly - not her usual soft, melodious giggle he had come to love so much, but a hollow laugh of a broken person and his heart pierced.

"I don't... want it to be the first and la... last time I say this." Hemayal said, tears again flooding her eyes and Ibrahim pressed his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.

Despite the smell of blood and hospital, he caught a scent of her, of Hemayal - of love and beauty and laughter.

"It won't be... life isn't that cruel." Ibrahim mumbled in her neck, mindful of the machines connected to her.

"Oh, but it is, Abi." Hemayal said, murmuring his nickname for the first time, voice weak and broken, and another tear fell down his eye and lost itself in the thick strands of her hair.

"Hush, don't talk." Ibrahim murmured, pulling back, pressing a soft kiss to her glistening eyes.

"We...we don't even... have a song..." Hemayal murmured another one of her regrets and Ibrahim smiled.

"Once you get out of here, we'll listen to every song out there and choose one for us, okay?" Ibrahim asked, voice soft and Hemayal softly nodded her head but winced in pain soon after.

"You should rest." Ibrahim murmured, pulling back but Hemayal slowly caught his arm, eyes closed.

"Don't... don't leave me yet." She whispered, opening the eyes so Ibrahim could see the pain in her brown, broken gaze.

"I'm never leaving you," Ibrahim said, putting a slight pressure on her face.

"There's so much...we have yet to do...together..." Hemayal murmured, tears gathering for the third time in her eyes and this time, they fell right on his heart.

"We'll do it all..." Ibrahim whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

"We've never... never watched a sunset together...never sang together..." Hemayal began, tears flowing freely down her face now, cutting Ibrahim's heart in two. "Never even been...to a movie..."

"We'll do everything, baby. Every single thing." Ibrahim said, his own tears falling on her face too.

"I don't...even know you... what makes you happy... what upsets you..." Hemayal began, face red from all the tears and Ibrahim wiped them clean hurriedly before bending towards her, cupping her face in the palm of his hand.

"Listen to me, Hemayal, you're not dying tonight. I met you too late, I'm not losing you so soon." Ibrahim said and Hemayal leaned her face against his palm, cutting her lips with her teeth.

"I want...to live with you..." Hemayal said, hopeless and desperate to get another day with him.

"You will, baby, you will. And we will do everything you say... we'll decide a song too, a cheerful and happy one because God knows we've cried too much...and then we'll go to a movie and..." Ibrahim said, desperate too as the dam to the flood of his tears finally broke and in an instant, his whole face warmed with hot water, his lips trembling.

"Whatever happens...we had these...three weeks..." Hemayal mumbled and Ibrahim shook his head, refusing to believe in a future without her.

"Ibrahim...I dreamed about you..." Hemayal mumbled, smiling sadly at him and Ibrahim stilled.

"Yeah? What about me?" Ibrahim asked, rubbing slow circles across her cheek.

"Of you and me...in dark...with only a single candle in the room... and you keep saying... sorry to me..." Hemayal said, her gaze losing its spark as she slowly began to slip into unconsciousness, the monitors beginning to blare suddenly, and Ibrahim panicked, getting up hurriedly.

"I am sorry, Hemayal, so much." Ibrahim said, panicked as he shouted for the doctor, saw as Hemayal's breathing became labored.

"I wish we'd gone to that beach." Hemayal murmured just before the nurse pushed him out of the door, leaving a shocked and terrified man standing outside the door with every fiber of him broken.

Sunday - 10th November

1:02 am

Half an hour had passed since he had left the room, left Hemayal, and every single second had felt like an eternity - a never ending loop of pain and ache and regrets. The moment he exited the door, everyone had thrown questions at him, their concern and worry too much for him to bear and after a few answers, he'd become silent.

He didn't know what to answer anymore.

Hemayal had shook him, her eyes haunting him, her words ringing in his ears. Pain, in its full magnitude and effect, had hit him when he'd first seen her lying there but he didn't know real pain until he'd talked to her - listened to how much she'd always loved him and how much time they'd wasted in their fights.

"Please, don't let her die." Mehmal murmured, coming to sit beside him slowly but Ibrahim didn't turn to look at her.

"She's Hemayal, she's strong..." Ibrahim began but Mehmal cut her off.

"She's just another twenty-four years old girl who didn't deserve the way life treated her... and she isn't strong, Ibrahim... she's completely broken..." Mehmal said, tears leaving marks on her face.

"She wants to live... she will..." Ibrahim murmured, eyes lost.

"Three weeks... after years and years of pain, she gets only three weeks of happiness... that isn't fair," Mehmal said before chuckling to herself, remembering something. "You know if she were here, what'd she say?"

"She'd say life isn't fair, Mehmal." Ibrahim mumbled, closing his eyes and Mehmal's sharp cry of pain tore his heart even more.

Just then, the door opened for the third time that night, the doctor walking out, his steps small and tired just as the family approached him hurriedly, except for Ibrahim who remained rooted on his spot, his heart in his throat as he looked at the man with dread filling his face.

"She's alright," and Ibrahim Yazdani fell on his knees, the joy too big, the relief too overwhelming. "She went into a circulatory shock but she's fine now. We'll keep her under observation for a few..."

By then, Ibrahim had stopped listening. Somewhere along the lines of she's alright, he had completely and irrevocably lost it. On his knees, bent, hands planted against the floor, he cried.

Cried because the news of heaven after the atrocities of hell had taken a toll on his heart and cried because when fear left his bones and relief occupied the place, his whole body had fluttered.

"Hami..." His voice cracked, the water of emotions soaking the sharp curves of his face.

"She's fine, she's fine," Mustafa said, squatting on his toes in front of Ibrahim, holding his brother's tear-stained face in his hands. "Abi, she's fine."

"She's fine," He whispered to himself, unbelieving and shocked. "She's fine." It took a while to register that thought completely and when it did, the split of his lips into a grin thawed the ice that had numbed his nerves and blew the fire that had resided in his heart.

"She's fine." Ibrahim said once again and a laugh shook his chest as he bent back, looking up at the ceiling of the room with exhaustion seeping into his bones.

And there a man sat, on his knees in the middle of a corridor in blood-stained clothes, looking above with laughter curving his lips while the tears fell down his cheeks - and nothing of such a scene had the earth ever witnessed before.

Except once.

Once, when a woman had turned in her place without a second thought and taken a bullet meant for the man she loved, when forsaking her life, all she could see was his.

The chaos in the canvas of their lives, seeing the love the two people had in their broken hearts, sighed before closing its eyes.

The End

... and is that the sound of my heart breaking?

this is the end and i hope it lived up to the standards. this book is very, very close to my heart and i still can't quite believe that i finished it.

my second complete novel, ahh!

and for that, thanks to all of you. for bearing with my random updating schedules and long hiatus. the love i have for all of you is immense!

and there's still going to be an epilogue but i'll update it only when i'm ready to say goodbye to these two. right now, i'm nowhere near ready.

but trust me, this isn't the last we've seen of hami and abi.

see you in another book!

salam!