Hello my darlings. I hope you're doing great. So, heres Chapter Two. I hope you all like it, please don't forget to vote comment and share it with everyone you know.

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As the dawning of the day approached. The sky above me glistened, with the darkest shade of red. Mixing against the light pink. The soft morning breeze glided past the four corners of the open terrace courtyard, drifting from corner to corner.  I merely remained in awe at the mesmerising sunrise before me, wondering if there was ever anything more beautiful than the moon parting with her lover, and the sun greeting the world every morning, knowing he would never meet his lover, but optimism being his only hope. I thought quietly.

I needed optimism in my life now, more than ever.

A heavy weight remained on my shoulders. Like those of an abounded chest, carrying darkest secrets. Burdening one's soul. It's incessant presence only grew by the passing second, as the clock ticked by and the fiery sky dissolved slowly into a lighter shade of blue, or so I could make out. 

A cold breeze slowly swept by me, making me swallow sharply, trying to blink away the tears stinging my eyes. The overpowering emotions I tried hiding away now came back tenfold, holding me a prisoner against the unknown future that awaited me. 

I knew a day would come, when such a topic was to be discussed. Though, I didn't expect it to be now. On this day. Heaving in a deep breath, my gaze flickered away from sky and on towards the open courtyard. Tears stung my eyes rapidly, allowing them to rush down freely on their own will. Releasing a soft sigh, the cold breeze continued enveloping across my body, making my arms wrap around each other in comfort, in hopes of warding it off. 

The voices that had kept me awake all night came back, overcrowding every other thought. How could they expect me to get married? Why would they think I was ready to forget so quickly? Wiping the warm tears that continued escaping on to my cheeks, I slowly gripped against the wooden swing. My mind swirling with hundreds of emotions. 

Get married. Again.

How could I? How could I be with another man when Yaseen was my everything. He was the very air I breathed. How was I to look at another man when it's Yaseen's face I searched for. The more I thought, the louder the voices in my head became. Surely, this must be a mistake. I murmured as my hand folded in to a fist, whilst gripping onto the wood pillar beside me for support. 

" If only you were here"

I whispered softly. My teary eyes staring at the sky above me. Hoping, somehow, somewhere Yaseen could hear me. That somehow, he could come back home even though I knew. It was impossible. No matter how many times I asked, Yaseen wouldn't ever descend onto the entrance steps, like he had promised so many years ago. He wouldn't be wearing his uniform, nor would he have his duffel bag besides him, whilst his strong arms wrapped around me tightly, promising he wouldn't leave me, not now, not ever.  

" Aazeen! Dad and Mum have been looking for you everywhere. Why are you here?"

Sumbal loud voice rang. Echoing across the large yard on the terrace making me tense. Not expecting anyone to find me here. This was my safe haven. The only place in the entire household I could come and clear my head. Intaking a deep breath, my shaky hands reached forward brushing past against my burning cheeks. 

Wiping the tears away. I pulled my veil upwards. Trying to look as decent as I possibly could. Not wanting anyone to question why I was on the terrace again, hoping for long forgotten dreams.  Standing up from the swing, I felt it move against my legs. The low creaking sound echoing all around.

I found myself walking towards the stairs easily guided by the sound of laughter. The sight of my grandparents, and my parents sitting in a gathering with smiles on their faces somehow lifted the heavy weight off me. Yet despite their smiles, I also sensed pain. Knowing the wounds of the past were masked under their fake happiness of the present. They were hurting just as much as me. 

Reaching the last step. I couldn't ward off the smile greeting my face, if there was anything that could lift my spirits up, was my grandfather and my grandmother's love story, or so they called it-- but I think meeting on the fields under the scorching sun wasn't as chivalrous as it was back in the day, but who am I to comment. They were still in love as they had been when they first married.

My gaze automatically flickered towards my grandfather, seeing him shift a little. Whilst he reached towards the teacup before him. His strong back facing me. 

He hated being called 'Grandad'. Insisting it was a western term, and he'd prefer being greeted by his authentic title. He insisted on being called 'Dada', urging it kept him closer to his roots in these days of modern technology. And despite how much his grandchildren argued otherwise, he was persistent. It was Yaseen who first called him 'Dada' and since then, I kept his promise, not wanting the name to fade away. It did, however work in the older mans favour as everyone addressed him by the name. Even those not in his household. 

" Assalam Alaikum"

I spoke slowly greeting them in Arabic. Murmuring Peace be upon you. My voice echoed across the large hallways and in to the eerie quiet yard that once overflowed with pigeons. I watched the small circle of people, slowly look towards me simultaneously, making the side of my lips curve into a small smile.   

" Aazeen my love! Come" My mother spoke softly,  her bright eyes twinkling with happiness at the sight of me. The years have been kind to my mother, as till this day. She remained the graceful woman, I have known through the years.

Her features were quite delicate as my father once explained. Having a sweetheart shaped face with a small button nose. And not a single wrinkle of age on her face. One wouldn't think that she was nearly fifty years of age. It only made my father ever more overprotective of the woman, who would shake her head each time anyone glanced at her twice, whilst my father grumbled under his breath.

Insisting the world had now become shameless. He however was, far better than most men for not insisting mother change her style, or clothing, but rather arguing it was men's greedy gaze that was the collapse of many mundane activities, such as walking with their wives in the district and through the fields.

Well, something along those lines  at least. The thoughts in my head came to an abrupt stop at the sight of my mothers smiling face, whilst she patted the spot next to her, indicating for me to take a seat. I couldn't help but reciprocate the gesture, hearing my mother talk lowly, her eyes squinting at my reaction. 

Dada had made sure all his children, nieces and nephews went to schools and pursued higher education in university. Insisting education was the reform this world needed, hence why he insisted my mother too, pursue her dreams and so she did by becoming a nurse. It was quite the scandal back then, to allow your daughters or in this case daughter-in-law pursue higher education, especially in the orthodox district we lived in, but the older man insisted it was God's given right to everyone.  

He strongly disliked the idea of how some girls weren't able to attend school, thus however not always the parents fault. For not everyone had for financial means, but more so, without any solid provision provided for them. It was impossible. Dada took it upon himself to build various of school's ensuring girls received just as the same opportunities as boys, with scholarships to various academic routes.

He dismissed any further expenses for those who earned beyond a certain threshold. Thus then giving everyone the opportunity to attend, sadly, some people remained persistent with the old ways, and there was nothing that could change their ideology. At least for now.

Smiling at him, I could feel my chest constrict. Pride filling me at his dedication and philanthropy.

He was a phenomenal man

Walking towards my mother. I sat beside her easily the strong smell of her perfume reaching my nose. The woman glanced upwards at me, a smile on her face making me reciprocate the gesture.

" How is my baby doing?"

" I'm good! How are you? Have you had breakfast?" I asked worriedly not fully sure if my parents and grandparents took the time to eat, not with them reminiscing over the olden days most of the times in the courtyard.

" Don't worry Aazeen. The maids served our food an hour ago. Though, have you?" She asked worriedly, placing her hand on my shoulder in worry.

" Yeah I did" I murmured speaking half the truth. I did eat, in the morning. So it wasn't exactly a lie, but neither was it the truth to their question.

" I see, and it's flying chickens in the Khan's residence. The whole point of lying is. You have to make it believable" Dada spoke his face scrunched up in annoyance. Making me blush lightly, feeling highly embarrassed. Was that really such a bad lie?

" Well, I did eat. Just, not now" I said, defending myself, hearing Nanno gasp horrified. Pulling her white scarf above her heard and furiously praying on her prayer beads she shook her head in disapproval.

"People will think we don't feed you" She spoke. Her wrinkly face looking at me in disappointment. Great! Now I had to hear a lecture from all of them.

" They would only know, if she ever goes out and meets them. Aazeen, why have you become such a antisocial person?"

He spoke in a slight disappointment. I knew he meant well, but God! I didn't need another lecturing, especially today. Instead of voicing my opinions I glanced down at my hands. Hoping this was over with soon. I didn't need this, so early in the morning.

" Three Years. My child, you asked to take some time off. To come to Dada house and find peace. And we let you.
I know- I know losing someone you love. It wrecks your soul, but then comes a day. When we have to move on. How long will you mourn the death of Yaseen? How long will you hide behind your pain?"

He finally spoke after a long silence. His voice faltering, as he stared at me. Tears glistening his eyes, knowing Yaseen wasn't the only person we lost that day.

"I want to see you happy"

He murmured finally. His hand reaching towards me, and holding onto mine. I knew where this was going, and no matter how much I pushed it aside. I knew there would come a day when everything will be placed onto scales. For judging.

" No one is forcing you. No one will ever force my girl to do anything against her will, but all I'm asking you to do. Is to live Aazeen"

He finally spoke. The weight of his words echoing all around us, making me take a deep breath. Tears stinging my eyes.

Don't cry! Not now.

A low clearance of throat had us all looking up at Dada, as he stared at Abba pointedly before extending his arm out for me lovingly.

" Aazeen, come"

The elderly man urged. I was thankful for sitting on the edge, as it made it easier to get up and leave. Exactly what I was doing right now.  Following after Dada, we walked in silence down the hallway, and towards the entree of the second hall.

Stepping inside my bedroom, I was more than glad I had cleaned it up. The last thing I would need, was a disappointed look from the man. I've been having enough of those lately. I was pleased when he glanced around and smiled softly. The silence lingered even more, as Dada took a seat on the edge of my bed, with both of his hands curling onto the head of his cane. The man pointed towards the spot next to him, and I followed, allowing my body to relax and on instinct my head lay easily onto his shoulder.

" Aazeen, there are many great treasures we hold on to in life and without them we can't function. We can't live, but, that my love is a concept we humans have made.

You see, it's all a test from the Almighty. Each second, each minute. To see how we cope and how we react. Do we be patient and accept it, or do we show anger?" Dada started. His grey eyes staring ahead at the photos all over the walls.

" When we had your eldest uncle, Huzaifah. I was the luckiest man alive. Then your grandmother gave birth to Muhammad, Shahbaz and then to my Fatima" The man spoke, his face washing with hundreds of emotions. Almost as if the very name of his late daughter, brought physical pain to him, but then I would know all too well of pain. He was a familiar ally.

" Fatima was the light of my eyes. As you folks would say, she was the apple of my eye. Watching her from being just a small girl, to a grown woman was the greatest joy of my life. But with life, sorrow comes and when she died giving birth to Yaseen, I was broken"

He whispered, his voice thick with emotions. Making me glance at him wearily, noticing his face turn red, as though he was suppressing himself from tears.

" Huzaifah had--Omar, Saif, Hussaina.

Muhammad, had Shahir, Humaira, Aisha, Safiya, Wajid and my Khalil.

Shahbaz had You, Muskaan, Sumbal and Arshad, but Fatima. She had Yaseen, and now Yaseen is gone too. My only living memory of my daughter, died that day too"

The man continued, his shaky hands reaching forward and wiping his tears away. I dared not look anywhere else, knowing I too would burst into tears. Instead I held onto my breath and focused my attention onto my hands and my empty wedding finger.

" My daughter and then my Yaseen, both gone. So my dear the pain you're feeling. I'm feeling it hundreds times more, but I lay my trust with Allah. I pray to him for strength" He spoke confidently, his gaze landing on mine. I watched as he reached towards a tissue from the box, before handing it to me and despite myself, I smiled.

" Shahbaz told you. And you asked for some time. Two months have passed and you haven't given us your answer"

The man urged, making me nod. I knew what he was implying at, and rather than voicing my thoughts, I looked ahead. Feeling a heavy silence fall on us.

" You do know. Without your consent, no one can ever force you" He finally spoke and I knew he was right. Of course nothing would ever happen without my approval. Yet, it seemed all words had left me as I heard the older man continue talking.

" This proposal that has come. They are good people Aazeen. I used to know the boys Grandad. He was my dearest friend, and your father and my dear friends son, Hamad. They are good friends as well"

Dada spoke fondly. His hand holding onto my cold ones, whilst breaking down the two generation of friendship.

" Hamad moved to Kuwait when he was young with his family, and joined the army and so did his son when he was of age" Dada started making me stiffen. Yaseen had been in the army as well. Was I destined to be married to soldiers? I thought quietly yet, I didn't speak. Hearing the older man continue.

" The boy was in the Army, but reassigned after some time and now runs his father company and all affairs"

" Why me? I don't know them"

I suddenly spoke my voice hoarse hearing Dada chuckle, his thumb stroking my shaking hands. It wasn't as if I was the only single woman around here! Right? There were so many other eligible matches, why would they want a widow?

" You may not know them, but Hamad has known you since you were an infant. He always wished for his boy and you to get married" I heard Dada speak. Making me sit upwards, hearing this information for the first time. He did? How is it that I don't know of these people?

"He isn't much older than you. The boy or shall I say a man, is Twenty-Seven"

Dada spoke whilst reaching for something in his pocket. I could feel myself tense, as he placed a photo in front of me, causing an eerie like silence to fall around us. Oh god!

Glancing at Dada. A small reassuring look from him had me glancing down at the photo he had placed besides me on the bed.

I could feel my heartbeat pick up. Ever so slowly as I reached forward. My fingers merely an inch away, stuck between the present and the possible future. Looking towards Dada, he gave me a reassuring look, just as I slowly picked up the photo, feeling my eyes flicker across it.

The man looked as though he wasn't aware of someone taking a picture. Either that, or he was good a posing. I don't quite know. He seemed to be in deep thought, whilst he gazed intently at something before him.

I felt my eyes flicker from his green military uniform, and towards his eyes, with thick eyelashes staring ahead, slightly squinted. He had a small stubble, and a sharp jawline. His high cheekbones somehow made his face seem like it was smiling, and strangely enough, staring straight at me.

Even though, the photo didn't show his entire body. Just from the picture. I could see that the man was tall with a large physique. His large tanned arms, might be a proof of that. There was a certain aura to him, one of distinctive confidence, entwined with a shadow looming across his eyes, striking a intimidating cord in one's heart. And this was just a photo.

I slowly glanced at Dada, seeing him point at the stranger in the photo. As he spoke, his words echoing loudly.

" His name is Ammar. Ammar Khan"

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Chapter two folks!

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