Haya flopped onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows as she watched Umeed cluelessly. Gleefully standing in front of the dressing table, Umeed was perfecting her eye makeup, before dabbing on the lip gloss she had borrowed from her cousin.

"Kaisi lag rahi hun?" chirped Umeed, twirling in her white suit adorned with red and black embroidery, her natural curls tumbling freely over her shoulders. Haya shook her head in disbelief, then strode over to Umeed, gripping her gently by the shoulders.

Haya gave Umeed a light shake as if it would snap her back to reality. "Kya ho gaya Umeed? Tum theek tou ho?" She pressed her palm to Umeed's forehead, checking for a fever. "Bukhaar tou nahin hai, kuch ulta seedha tou nahin khaa liya?"

"Kya keh rahi ho?" Umeed asked, turning to grab two pairs of earrings, holding one up to each ear. "Batao, kaunsay walay jhumkay pehnun?"

Haya was having none of it; "Umeed..."

"Accha na, kya ho gaya hai tumhein? Meri khushi raas nahin aati?" frowned Umeed.

Haya raised an eyebrow. "Tumhari khushi raas aati hai lekin tumhara Waleed aur uski Ammi kay saath dinner jaanay par khush hona raas nahin aati, shaq paida karti hai." Umeed averted her gaze, but Haya gently grasped her chin, urging her to meet her eyes. "Batao kya chal raha hai tumharay dimaag mein?"

"Kuch bhi tou nahin..." Umeed pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back a smile. Haya glared at her, and that was enough to break Umeed's resolve. She burst into a grin and pulled Haya, both of them settling on the bed.

Haya was scared by this point looking at how Umeed couldn't stop smiling, that too devillishly. "Kya kiya hai behen?"

"Menay na..." Umeed shifted excitedly on the bed, holding onto Haya's hands. "Menay-"

"Umeed!"

The duo flinched at the thunderous voice booming from downstairs. Haya looked at Umeed in horror, and Umeed's expression mirrored hers. They exchanged a look of confusion and sheer fear, trying to fathom what storm had descended upon the man of their house today.

Before they could react, Zeenat rushed into the room, panic evident on her face.

"Larkiyon, tum dono ko sunai nahin deta? Pasha Sahab bula rahay hai neechay, chalo!"

"Chachi lekin huwa kya?" asked Umeed.

Zeenat smiled sarcastically. "Ab beta, iska jawaab mujhsay zyada tumhein pata hoga, kay ab kis toofan ko sar anjaam diya hai tumnay."

Haya whipped her head towards Umeed, while Umeed shook her head innocently.

"Ab shehzaadiyaan ek dusray ko dekhti hi rahengi ya chalengi bhi, iss se pehlay Pasha Sahab pura ghar ulat dein." Zeenat smacked Umeed's arm, nudging her to move, with Haya trailing behind.

Umeed fidgeted with her fingers as she stood in front of Pasha Sahab, who sat on the sofa with his face buried in his palms. Her heart pounded against her chest as if she might collapse at any moment. This wasn't something new, she had been in this exact same spot countless times since she was a child, but this feeling was something that never went away. Every single time, she feels it, completely, intensely, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Haya and Zeenat stood behind the glass doors, while Aghu Jaan sat on the couch beside her son. Sameer stood silently in the corner of the room, all of them looking as terrified as Umeed was. Yet Umeed was the only one who managed to conceal her fear, as she had always done.

"P-Pasha Sahab," she whispered, trying to break the ice.

Kamal Pasha slowly lowered his hands to rest on his knees, his gaze fixed on his daughter. Fury, raw and unfiltered, burned in his eyes. Umeed swallowed hard, nervously fidgeting with her fingers and shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

"A-aapnay bulaya?"

"Zeenat." Pasha Sahab called out, rising swiftly from his seat. Zeenat appeared almost immediately and stood ready, waiting for him to issue his command. "Kitchen mein chaaku milegi?"

Zeenat nodded, even though confused. "J-Jee Pasha Sahab?"

"Lekay aao."

Obeying him, she walked into the kitchen while Umeed couldn't gather enough courage to look at Kamal Pasha. Zeenat arrived in a minute, handing the knife off to her brother-in-law. Clutching it, he took slow, deliberate steps toward Umeed and stopped right in front of her.

He extended his left hand, taking Umeed's right and placing the knife into her trembling grip. She lifted her gaze to her father, her eyes pleading with questions her mouth couldn't voice. Pasha Sahab sighed heavily and said, "Tum iss se mujhay maar do."

"J-jee?"

"Yeh roz roz meri aur meray parwarish ki beizzati puri duniya kay saamnay karnay se accha hai ek hi dafa iss chaaku se tum mera kaam tamam kar do." Pasha Sahab's voice raised, making Umeed wince.

Umeed tried to reason; "Lekin Pasha Sahab-"

"Nahin! Ek aur jhoot nahin sun na mujhay. Jhoot bolnay kay alawa tumhein aata kya hai? Aur yeh jo tum harkatein karti phirti ho, ek baar bhi apnay gharwalon ki izzat kay baaray mein socha hai tumnay? Nahin, bas har waqt apni manmani karni hai, aur kuch nahin. Itni khudgarz!"

Umeed tried to reason for one last time, knowing it would render fruitless. "Lekin Pasha Sahab, aaj tou menay kuch nahin kiya. Dekhein aapkay kehnay pe taiyaar bhi ho rahi hun Walee-"

"Naam na lena uska! Aur tumhari himmat kaisay huwi mujhsay mazeed jhoot bolnay ki? Sharam nahin aati tumhein apnay baap se iss tarhan baar baar jhoot kehti huwi? Jhooti tou paidaishi ho, nuksaan tou mera aur apnay gharwalon ka humesha se karti aayi ho, ab baahir walon ko bhi nuksaan pohonchanay lagi ho? Chahti kya ho tum? Tumhara baap sharam se mar jayein? Tab khushi milegi tumhein?"

Aghu jaan intervened. "Lekin Kamal huwa kya hai? Kyun meri pyaari guriya ko sunanay lagi ho?"

"Aapko pata bhi hai aapki guriya ne kiya hai? Uski wajah se Waleed ki tabiyat kharab huwi hai! Pata nahin kya khila diya usay. Ek pura ghanta hospital mein rehna par gaya uss bicharay bacchay ko."

Umeed felt as though an arrow had been shot straight into her chest, remembering how the same man did not care when she was admitted to the hospital for days with a viral fever, just two months back. To him, it was nothing - just another case of Umeed overreacting.

Zeenat asked; "Hein Pasha Sahab, yeh kab huwa?"

"Jo yahan gunhegaar kharhi hai, woh batayegi. Kyun Umeed?" Pasha Sahab questioned, only to be met with silence. He scoffed; "Besharmi tou dekho iski! Arrey aaj dopeher ko Waleed gaya iska cafe gaya tha, woh itna maqool, iska haal chaal poochnay gaya tha, yeh jaan ne gaya tha kay shaam ko isay lenay kab aana hai. Aur isnay pata nahin kya pila diya kay uski tabiyat itni kharab ho gayi. Umeed batao, kya pilaya usay?"

"Chai pilayi thi." Umeed murmered.

Pasha Sahab shouted, waving his hands in exasperation, "Arrey tou usmein daala kya tha tumnay?"

Umeed gulped, knowing she had no way out of this situation without confessing.

"V-vim."

Haya covered her mouth in shock, hiding behind the door, while Zeenat stared at Umeed with fear, dreading the impending wrath Pasha Sahab was about to unleash.

"Dekha Aghu jaan? Dekha aapnay aapki guriya ki kya harkatein hai?" Pasha Sahab yelled while Aghu Jaan looked on helplessly, caught in the middle of yet another conflict between her son and granddaughter. If she could make one wish, it would be to dissolve the tension between them. It was heartbreaking to see Umeed struggling without support in her own home. With the limited understanding Aghu Jaan's mental health allowed her, she worried about who would stand by Umeed once she was gone.

Umeed blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as she gathered the courage to make her case.

"Haan tou Pasha Sahab mujhay nahin jaana tha uskay saath."

"Kya?" asked Pasha Sahab, like he heard the most unlikely thing in the world.

Umeed looked at the floor as she explained. "Mera cafe sirf mera hai, isiliye uss cafe ko lekar jo bhi documents aur files hai, uss par pura haq mera hai. Woh kaun dekh sakta hai, kaun nahin, iska faisla sirf mera hona chahiye. Waleed ka koi haq nahin banta tha. Usnay poocha, menay saleeqay se mana kar diya bas." She looked at her father, who was glaring at her incredulously. "Abb iss baat par mujhay aisi saza dena, na-insaafi huwi na? Me nahin jaana chahti Waleed aur uski Ammi kay saath dinner par."

"Tou mana kar deti!" answered Kamal Pasha, matter-of-factly.

Umeed scrunched her eyebrows; "Me mana karti, tou kya aap meri baat suntay? Aaj tak tou nahin suna aapnay meri ek bhi baat."

"Tou tum uski tabiyat bigaad di?"

"Meray paas aur koi rasta nahin bacha tha-"

"Aur kya kaha tumnay me tumhari baat nahin sunti? Aaj tak apni manmani karti aayi ho, aaj tak tumnay jo kiya apni marzi se kiya, meri ek bhi baat nahin maani, aur tumhein apna woh dhaba bhi chalanay de raha hun, iss se zyada chahiye kya tumhein?"

"Pasha Sahab lekin uskay badlay aapnay tou meri puri zindagi maang li thi na?"Umeed finally raised her voice, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at her father. "Cafe kay liye apni zindagi ki sauda ki thi aapsay, khushi-khushi ki thi lekin aap yeh na kahein kay menay humesha apni manmani ki hai. Nahin ki hai manmani, aur jab ki hai tou saath hi saath apni marzi kay khilaaf kuch karwaya hai aapnay."

Kamal Pasha, now fully enraged, raised his voice even further. "Apnay baap se zubaan laraati ho?"

Umeed gripped the knife tighter as her father's thunderous voice reverberated through her senses, shaking her entire being. She no longer realized the pain as she accidentally cut herself, her hands bleeding profusely.

"Aur kis sauday ki baat kar rahi ho tum, haan?" He asked, bending down to her level and forcing her to lower her gaze. "Waleed jaisay maqool larkay kay saath tumhara rishta tay kiya hai, agar yeh sauda hai tou ismein sirf tumhara fayda hai. Aisay larkay ki laayak na tum ho, na kabhi ban sakti ho. Baithay bithaye itna accha rishta haath laga hai, aur phir bhi nakhray nahin khatam ho rahi tumhari. Waapis apnay baap ko suna rahi hai. Na-farmaan aulaad!"

"Baba," she said, taking a deep breath, worn out from years of trying to make her father understand her point of view. "Aap jaantay hi kya hai Waleed kay baaray mein? Kay woh koi hotel management course kiya hai? Uski sirf Ammi uskay saath rehti hai? Iskay alawa aap kya jaantay hai uskay baaray mein? Aapnay kabhi socha hai woh kyun har waqt cafe kay peechay para rehta hai? Har waqt kyun mujhsay sales wagera ki documents maangta rehta hai? Jab bhi mujhsay baat karta hai cafe ki baat karta hai, profits ki baat karta hai. Aapko yeh sab ajeeb nahin lagta? Aapko shaq nahin hota?"

Umeed vented out everything she had been observing and feeling since forever. "Aur tou aur, documents na milnay par aapko call kar kay meri shikayat bhi kar di. Kyun itna important hai yeh cafe aur woh documents uskay liye? Usko acchay se pata hai aap uski baat sun kar mujhay suna dengay kyunkay uskay saamnay aapnay aisa pehlay bhi kiya. Usko pata hai hum dono kay beech mein aap humesha usko chunengay. Aur aaj bhi dekho kaisay call karkay shikayat laga di, haala kay galti meri hai lekin woh subah se kya kuch nahin khaya hoga? Usay acchay se pata hai, kay Umeed aur Waleed kay beech mein, aap humesha Waleed ko chunengay. Apni beti ko nahin. Aapko nahin lagta woh iss baat ka fayda utha raha hai?"

Pasha Sahab paced the room, holding his head in frustration. Umeed tied her hands behind her back, clutching the knife tighter, seeking any semblance of support as tears threatened to spill. She had had enough.

"Baba-"

"Mera koi fayda utha raha hai tou woh ho tum!" Pasha Sahab retorted. "Tum samajhti kya ho apnay aap ko? Umeed tumhein lagta hai tum sab se ooper ho aur sab ko tumhein aur tumhari himakaton ko bardasht karni chahiye. Lekin me bata dun beta, asal zindagi mein aisa kuch nahin hota. Hum log tumharay ghar walay hai, me tumhara baap hun, meri majboori hai."

Umeed stared at her father and felt her throat sting as she gulped down her sobs.

"Kisi aur ki koi majboori nahin hai kay woh tumhein bardaasht karein. Isiliye agar kisi ko tumharay saath rehnay kay liye tumhara cafe chahiye, tou dena hoga. Agar woh chahay tum chup raho, tou tumhein rehna hoga. Aur jaisi tum ho agar waisi hi rahi, tou likh kay lelo, akeli reh jaaogi tum. Aisa koi paida hi nahin huwa jo tumhari jaisi larki ko bardaasht kar sakein. Sudhar jaao warna akeli reh jaogi tum!"

The gaze on her father remained fixated, without a blink as she started questioning her entire life. She had grown up hearing the same hurtful words from others, again and again, and over time had learned to develop a thick skin—one that shielded her from letting others dictate her self-worth. The possibility of never finding love wasn't foreign to her; she had considered it, even accepted it at times, knowing she could be difficult, knowing she wasn't easy to handle. But hearing the same, coming from her father in this way, shook something in her.

When had their relationship turned so bitter, so venomous?

Why did she have to hear these things from her father, the man she once looked up to as a little girl? The same man whose approval she had chased her entire life, even though it always seemed just out of reach. It wasn't just words anymore—it was a dagger lodged deep inside her, breaking down all the resilience she had so carefully built over the years.

How could he care so little?

"Aur yeh jo tum baar baar Waleed par ilzaam lagati ho, kay usnay yeh shikayat ki, woh shikayat ki. Nahin ki usnay koi shikayat, tum baar baar uss bacchay ko bura bhala kehti ho jab kay woh humesha tumhari acchai karta hai. Uss din bhi tumhari fikar mein cafe ki documents ka pooch raha tha, aur aaj tou usnay tumhara naam tak nahin liya! Bas itna kaha kay achanak uski tabiyat kharab ho gayi, dopeher se. Koi shikayat nahin lagaya usnay, aur waisay bhi, uss waqt wahan sirf woh nahin tha, aur bhi log the. Log jo apnay baap ko kuch samajhtay hai."

Umeed frowned, her mind spinning as she tried to grasp the meaning behind Kamal Pasha's words. Her eyes shifted from her father's furious face to Aghu Jaan, who sat quietly weeping. As she looked to the side, her gaze landed on someone almost invisible, huddled in the corner like he didn't want to be seen.

Sameer.

Things slowly began to piece together as Umeed's mind drifted back to that afternoon when Waleed had visited her at the café. There were only three others there aside from Waleed: Umeed herself, Taha, and Zoya. However, only a few minutes after his arrival, her brother had appeared, straight from the university, sent by Kamal Pasha to pick her up. It was typical of her father, making sure she wouldn't be late or, worse, somehow find a way to skip the dinner he had so carefully arranged.

She had carefully devised the plan, intending only to mess with Waleed's gut just enough for the dinner to be postponed for a while. It wasn't meant to cause real harm—just a temporary delay, a way to buy herself some time before facing what she knew would eventually come. She was fully aware that she'd have to find a permanent solution to this mounting headache, but for now, this would do.

The only person who knew about the scheme was Zoya. But as Umeed replayed the events in her mind, she remembered, as clear as day, who else had been standing at the kitchen entrance when she tampered with Waleed's tea.

After he had messed up royally six months back, Sameer and Umeed had an unsaid understanding lately—or so she believed. Neither she would involve herself in his business, or make him do her chores unless Pasha Sahab clearly instructed him to, nor would he snitch on her. Albeit their relationship had grown strained and cutting since his return after almost a decade, Umeed always thought her brother had some love left for her, at least for old time's sake. The brother for whom she picked her first fight with their father.

However, as she looked at him now, looking away, she felt her insides flare up in anger, the betrayal agonizing. Umeed had never expected Sameer to stand up for her—he never had, despite countless instances when Kamal Pasha had invalidated her autonomy and will. She was fine with it; she never expected anyone to fight for her, and no one did.

Umeed Pasha had always been her own saviour, even if it wore her out at times. What she couldn't accept was Sameer actively obstructing her and worsening her situation when he had never been any good for her. In fact, half her troubles had begun with him.

She had always been the one to face her battles alone with a smile, never faltering or fearing. But now, as she watched Sameer leave the room, unable to meet her gaze, and saw her father standing before her with nothing but hatred and anger in his eyes, she finally felt the weight of her isolation.

Umeed Pasha felt so completely alone, and the thought of it filled her with fear.

She truly had no one.

But she had herself, always did and always will — and that was enough.

Was it?

"Pasha Sahab." she called, her voice unusually strained. "Aapnay kaha tha, dinner par nahin jaana tha tou mana kar deti."

Kamal Pasha stared at her in anticipation.

Umeed took a step forward, her hands still tied behind. "Tou me ab mana kar rahi hun. Me Waleed se shaadi, nahin karna chahti. Aap mujhay zabardasti uskay saath na jorhein, yahin behtar rahega."

"Tou phir me bhi tumhein cafe chalanay se mana kar raha hun. Band kar do cafe, baith jao ghar par, jab tak koi masiha aakar tumsay humein chhutkara nahin dilata." said Pasha Sahab, raising his chin in challenge.

Zeenat and Haya stood at the door, terrified by how similarly stubborn the father and daughter sounded, the latter concerned for her cousin.

"Yeh nahin ho sakta Pasha Sahab. Me apna business har haal mein chhorhungi. Meray paas meray cafe kay alawa kuch nahin hai." Her voice trembled slightly, "Koi nahin hai. Tou aisa hargiz nahin ho sakta.", the conviction in her words unmistakable.

"Meray ghar par rehna hai, tou meri baat maan ni paregi." Kamal was stubborn in his stance. "Ya tou Waleed se shaadi karo, ya phir cafe band. Agar nahin kar sakti, tou chali jao yahan se, kyunkay me aisi na-farmaan aulaad ko mazeed bardasht nahin kar sakta."

Umeed let out a dry laugh. This was the man who had poured his entire life savings into his son, only to spend another fortune bringing him back and giving him endless chances to prove himself. Sameer had always been afforded opportunity after opportunity, while she was denied even one. The standards for both of them were galaxies apart, and the difference never seemed as evident as this moment.

"Jee."

That's all Umeed said before throwing the knife onto the floor, the clang echoing in the room.

Storming into Sameer's room, Umeed found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, his gaze fixed on the floor. He looked so calm and detached that anyone who saw him might mistake him for the most innocent person in the world. But Umeed knew better. Her anger flared as she stood there, breathing heavily, watching him in disbelief.

Umeed grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, startling him. "Waapis kar, meri ghari waapis kar abhi kay abhi!"

Sameer held her hands, trying to push her off. "Kya kar rahi ho tum aur kaunsi ghari?"

"Ab tou acting band kar lo, nahin hai Pasha Sahab yahan!" said Umeed bitterly, pushing him off causing him to almost stumble. "Meri ghari waapis karo abhi isi waqt."

Sameer held onto the bedside stand to stop himself from falling. "Me koi acting nahin kar raha. Aur tumhari ghari meray paas kaisay hogi?"

"Dekho Sameer..." Umeed took a long breath. "Tumnay aaj kya, puray saal ki barbaadi aaj ek din mein kar chukay ho, meri ghari kay saath koi mazak nahin, sharafat se waapis kar lo."

"Mujhay sach mein nahin pata tum kis ghari ki baat kar rahi ho."

"Humari Ammi ki ghari, jisko chhoone tak kay laayak nahin ho tum!" Umeed bawled, throwing her hands at him.

Sameer swat her hands away. "Meray paas nahin hai, and stop pouncing on me!"

"Kitna jhoot bologay Sameer? Tumhara dil nahin bhara abhi tak? Bohot mazay kiye hain na tumnay baahir mujhay aisay dekh kar, mujhay Pasha Sahab daant parwa kar. Kyun tang kar rahay ho mazeed?" Umeed gritted her teeth.

Sameer sighed. "Me kyun jhoot bolunga? Aur Ammi ki watch tum pehenti ho tumharay paas hogi. Meray paas kya karegi?"

"Jhoot bolna band karo!" cried Umeed. "Do din pehlay ghari kharab ho gayi thi aur meray kehnay pe Haya ne diya tha tumhein meri ghari theek karnay kay liye."

"Mujhay koi ghari nahin mili-"

"Kitna jhoot bologay Sameer? Tum mein zara bhi zameer nahin hai? Tum already mera bohot nuksaan kar chukay ho, meri zindagi barbaad mat karo, de do waapis meri ghari."

"Keh tou raha hun meray paas nahin hai. Mujhay bilawajah accuse karna band karo tum. Menay kya nuksaan kiya hai tumhara?"

Umeed scoffed. "Kya nuksaan kiya hai? Meri zindagi mein jitna maslay hai sab tumhari wajah se hai. Har waqt Pasha Sahab se meri chugli kartay rehtay ho. Yaad nahin hai tou yaad dilaun chhey mahinay pehlay tumnay kya kiya tha? Aur aaj jo Pasha Sahab ne sunaya mujhay woh bhi tumhari wajah se hai."

"Dekho Umeed yeh meri galti nahin hai kay Baba ko lagta hai tum kisi kaam ki nahin ho." shrugged Sameer, pushing Umeed over the ledge. She was furious.

"Me kisi kaam ki nahin hun? Kaathay angrez! Baap ka saara paisa khaa gaya hai aur mujhay suna raha hai! Meri zindagi kay saaray maslay hi tumhari wajah se hai. Tumnay iss family kay saaray paisay khaa kar kiya kya hai? Na-kaam ho tum har matlab se! Failure!"

Sameer blinked, taking in the gravity of Umeed's words, simultaneously surprised at this side of her that she almost never unleashes.

"Aur agar kisi ne zindagi mein kisi ne apnay bal bute par kiya hai woh me hun!"

"Woh cafe jahan har day mushkil se twenty customers aatay hain?" Sameer laughed sarcastically.

Umeed shouted; "Tumsay tou behtar hi hun, jo apnay baap kay puri zindagi ki kamai ura di! Chup chaap meri ghari waapis karo iss se pehlay kay me tumhara gala na daba doon."

"At least meri wajah se baba ka blood pressure tou nahin barta daily! Aur haan, tumhari ghari ghuma di menay. Nahin milega ab woh kabhi." Sameer fought back, feeling triggered by her allegations.

Umeed took a step back, unable to control herself.

"Kya?"

Sameer shrugged.

"Kya kaha tumnay?"

"Just what you heard Umeed, I don't have the watch. I lost it, it's gone." He said, his voice dripping with insincerity. It was clear he was lying, his only intention was to provoke Umeed and see her angry and hurt.

Umeed felt like the ground beneath her was slipping away. Never had she felt more alone in life than this moment, and now she lost the only thing that made her feel at home, that made her feel loved, the one thing that made her get through life every time she doubted if she could.

"Apni Ammi ki aakhri nishaani tou sambhaal nahin paaye, apni behen ka saga nahin ban paye, tum zindagi mein kya hi kar logay?" Umeed asked, every word laced with the pain that she was physically feeling in her bone. "Me tou kehti hun, tum meri zindagi ka sabsay bura hissa ho."

Umeed had always kept herself composed, guarded—never allowing anyone, least of all him, to witness her vulnerability. But now, her voice carried a rawness he hadn't expected, and it struck him harder than he cared to admit.

She sprinted up the stairs, with Haya trailing behind from the lounge where she had been consoling Aghu Jaan. Without sparing a glance at her cousin, who was calling her name, Umeed headed straight to her room, snatching her bag with urgency.

"Umeed kahan jaa rahi ho?" asked Haya, only to be met with silence as Umeed exited the room in a huff. "Apna haath tou dikhao kitna khoon beh raha hai!"

Haya's concern went unnoticed as Umeed stormed down the stairs, heading straight for the entrance door. Haya followed closely, while Zeenat emerged from the kitchen and met Haya at the bottom of the stairs. Zeenat shot her daughter a questioning glance, but Haya, shaking her head in confusion, ran to catch up with Umeed.

"Umeed-"

"Koi nahin rokega usay!"

Haya glanced back to see Pasha Sahab standing on the balcony, watching Umeed leave the house. "Andar jao sab!" he commanded. Zeenat, complying with the order, pulled Haya inside much to her displeasure. Haya's eyes lingered on the gate through which Umeed had just exited as her mother dragged her in.

"Ammi mujhay Umeed ki bohot fikar ho rahi hai."

Zeenat pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed. "Fikar ki bacchi, chup chaap baith jao! Ab kya tumhein bhi Pasha Sahab kay gussay ka shikaar ban na hai? Kaunsa pehli baar huwa hai yeh? Aa jayegi woh, jaao apnay kamray mein jaao!"

Haya dragged herself back upstairs, pointedly ignoring Sameer's room as she was in no mood to deal with him. Admittedly, she was engaged to him and cared for him, but that didn't mean she would tolerate his mistreatment of Umeed. If there was one person Haya would choose above anyone else in the world, it was Umeed. They had been there for each other in ways no one else had, through thick and thin, throughout the years.

She reached for her phone to dial Umeed's number, hoping to convince her to come back, knowing that if there was one person Umeed would not deny, it was her. However, as the call rang through, Haya noticed Umeed's ringtone echoing from somewhere in the room. She turned around only to find her phone in the drawer.

Umeed had left her phone behind.

Umeed could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she moved around the cafe in a frantic haze, shifting boxes from the front to the back kitchen and unboxing the equipment and cutlery she had ordered. Her hand, still bleeding, trembled as she grabbed each box. It was as though she were disconnected from reality, her internal turmoil drowning out the world around her, the voices in her head growing louder and more insistent.

She grew increasingly frantic, whispering numbers to herself as she moved. It felt as though if she stopped, she wouldn't survive the overwhelming weight of her existence. Determinedly, she ripped open the tapes on the largest box of cutlery and lifted it, striding toward the kitchen. However, the staplers securing the cardboard box pricked her already injured hand, causing her to drop the box. Cups shattered across the floor while others remained secured in their thermocol moulds.

Umeed crumpled onto the floor, sitting amidst the wreckage.

She looked down at her hands, bloodied and muddy, quivering. However, it seemed like she did not even register the state of her hands as she glanced around, seeing the mess she had created. She felt numb, contemplating the possibility that her father and brother might be right. Maybe she was untalented, up to no good.

Umeed panted, feeling utterly drained. Her gaze fell on her bare wrist—the one that used to be adorned with her mother's watch. She remembered how she would clutch it during tough times, be it meetings with investors or angry customers, sleepless nights filled with the woes of the future or the fury of her father.

The watch always used to be her source of comfort. Yes, Haya was the one person in whom she found comfort, the watch had a unique way of making her feel as if her mother was near. It gave her a sense of protection, a feeling she rarely experienced from anything or anyone else.

But now, here she was—an absolute wreck, exhausted, numb, and completely unprotected. Umeed longed for her mother, or at the very least, for a guardian angel to appear and offer her the comfort and protection she so desperately needed.

But unfortunately, it was a dumb fantasy. She was all alone and that was her reality.

"Umeed?"

Umeed looked up, hearing a familiar voice from the entrance. It was unlikely that anyone would come by now, considering the cafe was closed. It was even more unlikely that the person coming in would know her name. She wondered if she was hallucinating, questioning her mental state at the moment, until she heard the voice again.

"Umeed kahan ho?"

She waited for the owner of the voice to reach her, feeling like her limps would give up if she attempted to get up. Regardless, Umeed wasn't sure if she wanted to be in the vicinity of another person, or if she had it in her right to deal with a human being in a civilized manner at that moment.

Umeed kept her eyes fixed on the door of the kitchen. Moments later, the unexpected and untimely guest of her café appeared, dressed in a white button-down. As his gaze landed on her, his searching expression shifted to one of utter horror and concern, while Umeed remained in a state of disbelief.

Farjaad.

"Umeed?"

He felt his heart tighten at the sight before him. Umeed was on the floor, her eyes so vacant that he barely recognized her. As he scanned the room, he saw broken cutlery scattered around and a pile of cardboard boxes stacked behind her. His immediate thought was whether she was injured. Before he could contemplate anything further, his gaze fell on her hands, and a sharp pang of pain shot through his chest.

Realizing the gravity of her vulnerability, despite not knowing the full extent of the situation, Farjaad took slow, deliberate steps toward her. Umeed remained motionless, her gaze fixed on him as he got closer.

He slowly and carefully sat down beside her, as if the slightest hint of force might shatter her fragile state. With concern and worry brimming in his eyes, Farjaad gently placed his hand on the back of her head. Umeed, caught in a daze, stared at him with a blank expression.

"Umeed," he called out tenderly. "Kya ho gaya hai?"

Umeed blinked as if she was pulled out of a trance. She studied his features—his evident concern and worry for her. Her throat tightened as she struggled to contain the flood of emotions she had been suppressing since the evening.

"Tum theek ho?" asked Farjaad, despite knowing full well she wasn't. His only priority was to evoke any kind of reaction from her, for his heart was aching with worry.

As soon as he asked that, Umeed felt her composure slip. The dam she had cautiously built around her emotions all evening broke apart, and she resorted to uncontrollable sobs. Her loud cries echoed through the kitchen. He had never seen her like this, she had always been so strong, even when things were not in her favour.

Farjaad's heart ached at the sight; the anguish in her cries felt like a physical blow to him. He could barely contain the surge of helplessness and deep sorrow that consumed him, feeling as if his heart was being squeezed with each time she sobbed.

Out of pure instinct, Farjaad wrapped his arms around Umeed and felt her reciprocate instantlyf with equal force in a bone-crushing hug. The impact of it all made him sink to the floor, and he embraced her fully. He gripped her hair in a fist, while his other hand gently caressed her back as she broke down in his arms.

"Shh... shh... Main hoon na, kuch nahin hota," Farjaad whispered softly, running his fingers through her hair, trying his best to soothe her as her sobs wracked her body.

Umeed snuggled in closer, resting her head against his neck as tears flowed freely. With every sob, she felt her body slowly begin to relax under his comforting presence, while her grip on his shirt tightened, as if she would let go and he would disappear.

Farjaad sank his head into her hair, offering her more comfort as he pulled her closer, his embrace growing firmer. As her sobs echoed through the room, Umeed, in that moment, realized she felt something she had been yearning for years, something she sought in an inanimate object—a watch that once belonged to her mother.

Protection. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt protected.

Farjaad.

His arms were where her neverending chaos quieted down, where her restless search finally came to rest.

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Wrote in less than 24 hours during a depressive episode, not edited, not proofread. :)