The Winter sun was hot on their legs. It was nearing midday, yet neither was content to leave the comfort of their bed just yet. It had been too long since they had enjoyed the peace that came simply from lying next to the other, that they were selfish to give it up just yet.

"Why didn't I become like my Dad?"

That question had been plaguing his mind ever since meeting his grandmother. It had become something of a throbbing pain in the back of his head, constantly alerting him of its presence. Tasneem looked up at him, still running her fingertips softly over his chest. Neither had spoken since they had woken up and to hear his rough voice break the silence was something of a surprise.

"His Mum told me what his Dad did to him. He was abused as a kid too-" his entire body had frozen soon as he said those words. She looked up, alarmed to feel his heart beat quickening beneath her hand.

"What?"

He was abused too.

He was abused.

Zaheer abused him.

"My Dad..." he ran his tongue slowly over his lips, swallowing the lump in his throat, "My Dad abused me."

Zaheer abused him but Riaz had never in his life said those words.

"My Dad abused me, Tasneem"

She nodded her head, tears prickling at her eyes just hearing those words. She knew what it meant to finally say those words. He had accepted the most difficult thing in the world to accept.

He had accepted that someone had taken something from him and he couldn't stop it.

"Why didn't I become like him?"

"Because you made a choice." She said, her words brushing over his skin, "You chose not to be like him."

He nodded, slowly running her words over and over again in his mind.

"Do you remember when my granny told us about that verse..."

"Which verse?" He looked down, wrapping his arm around the small of her back as he felt her press her chest to his side once again.

"With hardship will always come ease." He saw something in her that he hadn't seen in a long time. He saw a look of contentment wash over her as she said those words, "I believe it, Riaz. I remember asking you if you believed in God, do you remember?"

"Yeah." It had seemed nothing short of ten lifetimes ago when he had found that little note tucked safely within the pocket of his blazer.

"I didn't really believe in God then. I said it but I didn't really believe in Him. I believe in Him now." She admitted, slowly to herself more than to him. "I didn't meet you by chance. I met you because you were always meant to be my ease and you were." She pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, happy simply to brush her lips to his skin. "After everything, you were my ease. And after your Dad, I know you'll find it too."

"You believe in God?" he smiled down softly at her, happy that she had found what she never knew she was searching for.

"Yeah." Her eyes shone with happiness- true happiness that reflected from the depths of her soul, "I want to follow my Dad's religion."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She rubbed at the stray tear that had fallen onto her nose, "When I get home, I'm going to tell my granny. I don't..." she paused, worrying her lip, "I don't really believe in it just yet but I want to try."

"Your granny will be happy."

"Very happy." He could see her worry her lip with her teeth.

"What?" Riaz asked, gently prying her lip away with his thumb.

"Will you come with me?" she asked, looking imploringly up at him, "On this road. Will you come with me?"

He smiled, pecking her softly over the tip of her nose, "I'll come with you anywhere, don't you know that by now?" he brushed his lips over her own, "I chose to love you."

Her smile as she looked up at him just then was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was and always would be his beautiful heaven-send and for that he would always be grateful...

"I chose to love you too, Riaz."

And you were the best choice I had ever made...

He would never come to this place again.

He stood outside the door, waiting for the last time. It was as if something had been lifted from him- the simple knowledge that he was saying goodbye had lifted the rock that had been over his chest all his life.

This was it. He was saying goodbye and never coming back.

He stepped into the room, keeping his eyes on his father the entire time. Zaheer had aged and sagged. His skin was sallow and dark and he had age-spots beneath his eyes. This wasn't the man he had left all those years ago. This man could barely keep his eyes open and as he sipped water from the glass in the nurse's hand, it dribbled aimlessly down his chin.

This was a mere broken shadow of a man.

"Can I speak to my Dad alone, please?" the nurse turned around to look at him, shock evident on her face as she heard his voice.

"Yeah, sure." She packed up her cart, wheeling it slowly out before she closed the door behind her.

He sat down on the vacated chair, simply looking down at his father. "Do you even remember me?" he asked, his voice nothing but a sad whisper as he looked down at the man who still haunted his dreams. "Do you even remember what you did to me?"

Zaheer looked up, struggling to focus on the figure above him. His voice had sounded familiar but he was sure he was simply imagining it. It had been almost a decade since he had heard his son's voice.

"They told me that you were dying."

Zaheer's eyes widened at that admission. No one had said it as candidly before.

"I still can't believe it. I never thought that you would die." Riaz said, finding himself torn in half between his memories and reality once again. "I'm married." he asked, "Did my mother ever tell you that? Her name is Tasneem and when I'm with her, I feel happy. Do you know what it's like to feel happy?"

Zaheer looked up at him, forcing himself to focus on the voice above him.

"I'm happy because I make her happy. I love her and when she's with me, she feels safe. You've never made my mother feel safe, have you?" he asked, bitterness seeping into his voice as he looked down at Zaheer. "My mother was terrified of you. Have you ever realised what you've done to her?"

Zaheer closed his eyes, turning his head away from his son.

"You hurt her and you beat her and you burnt her. But it wasn't that that broke her." Riaz allowed himself to remember that day- one last time, he would remember that day. "When you raped her in front of me, that was the day you broke my mother." The words ate at his throat like poison, burning his flesh and his blood as he spoke, "I still hear her sometimes, begging for you to stop. I hear her pleading for you to let me leave but you didn't. You wanted her to feel filthy and she did. That's what you did to her."

He wanted Zaheer to look at him. He didn't want him to turn his face. He wanted him to accept what he had done. He wanted him to die knowing what he had done.

"Did you kill my mother?"

Zaheer turned his face, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

"You did, didn't you?" he said. His voice was meant only for the two of them. "I'll never forgive you Dad. I'll never, ever forgive you."

Zaheer looked down, flexing his fingers weakly beneath this cotton sheets of his hospital bed.

"Can you even remember all the things you've done to me and Farhana?" Riaz looked down at the pitiful figure before him, "Why did you name me after your brother?"

He shook his head, unable to look down at him any longer.

"You're going to die. Maybe tomorrow or next week or next month." He said, wiping the tears off the tip of his nose with his sleeve, "And when you die, I'll come back and I'll bury you."

He lowered his head, making sure that Zaheer could see him.

"And when you're finally in the ground and when they've thrown the sand over your body, I'm going to forget about you."

Riaz stood up, taking a step back from Zaheer.

"Goodbye Dad."

And Zaheer could only watch, unable to speak, as Riaz turned his back to him and walked away.

And he knew, that would be the last time he would ever see his son again.

There was only one last thing he had to do.

He walked out of his room with a small, squared piece of paper held delicately between his fingers. "Let's go." He took her hand in his own as they walked down the corridor of his house one last time. The walls were now stripped of memory and sound. Every good part of his mother and sister had torn itself off those bricks and tiles and had settled deep within his mind. It had happened slowly- little pieces of sweet nothingness finding place amongst his heart and love.

Now this house was nothing but a house.

They walked through the floating granules of dust, that had seemed to glow and glitter as the sunlight settled upon it. They walked past the empty echoes of long forgotten nights and dark days. They had walked over years of sadness etched into the tiles...

And they had carried on walking.

He looked back at the house he had once lived in.

"Goodbye Mum."

He closed the door softly, tucking her picture safely into his pocket before they walked away.

Goodbye.