"I don't believe in humans..."— Unicorn

Only a couple of weeks until Mom, and Dad come home. Ali and Adiba have returned, which means I moved back to my own house. Kulsoom Nani made up a dozen excuses to get me to stay, but I was desperate for my own room, my own bed.

The day Ali came to pick me up from her place, she surprised me with a couple of Khaadi (My favorite designer) bags. I love Khaadi's eclectic dress designs! I often wondered if I should have tried my hand at Fashion Design during art school, but the cutthroat competition in the Pakistani industry always deterred me. I wanted my art to be an extension of who I am, not what I'm forced to become for the market.

"Oh my God, Kulsoom Nani, you shouldn't have!" I gush excitedly, fiddling with the glossy bags she handed me.

"Non-sense. You'll feel hungry along the way, and THAT BEAST of yours will want his snack too..." she thumps her cane as a period.

Huh? Hungry?

I peek inside the two bags to find huge potato chip bags, mixed with some of Dragon's special Channay ka Halwa (Traditional chickpea dessert). It also has various juice boxes, cookies, and Simba's favorite kibbles.

I'll be damned.

EMV is ready to rampage, 'DOWNRIGHT DIABOLICAL THIS IS! What is up with old ladies and designer bags? Huh?? WHO GIVES PEOPLE FOOD IN KHAADI BAGS? Raising feminine hopes and all!'

"Wow. That's a lot of food in a..a Khaadi bag." My attempt at smiles turned into a grimace.

"They are the sturdiest bags around. I make my driver pick up surplus bags from their factory outlet. Perfect for carrying stuff." She sniffs back.

EMV glares at her, 'Because actually buying stuff from Khaadi is beyond your meager means hmm? I'm sure it would cause a dent in your land cruiser's fuel budget...'

Adiba and Ali made up for this disappointment by getting me these amazing souvenirs from Thailand. There was a wooden bullfrog brilliantly hand painted. Its spine doubled as a tiny percussion instrument. I also got a sarong-style skirt printed with floral designs. Oh, and they got the cutest little collar-bell for Simba, engraved with his name. This was in addition to the local food and chocolates I had demanded.

"So what did you do during this month?' Adiba asks me as we prepare dinner together. "Besides getting this rock?" She winks at my solitaire ring. I blush as I absently stroke the cool metal. It fits so snugly; I feel like it was always there on my hand. It feels...perfect. I know it's just metal and stone, but the fact that Shehzer gave me something so sentimental instead of a store-bought jewel, makes this ring infinitely priceless for me. He really does love me.

"Oh Adiba, he was so sweet about it! he offered to get me a new one, but I think I just fell in love with this. I felt like royalty when he put it on me. I lov-..I-uh, I liked it, a lot." I cough to cover up my indiscretion.

"Ahaan, go on, you were about to confess your love for him!" Adiba keeps on leering mischievously at me.

"Pfft!! NO!, I wasn't about to do any such stuff. HEY! flip that kebab over, it's burning."

We spend the next hour trying to scrape together a decent meal. It was a learning experience, to say the least. Both of us are pathetic at making Desi food. Adiba is a whizz at Chinese, and I rock Italian stuff, but Kebabs, and Salans just escape us. Which makes the upcoming Eid-Ul-Azha celebrations a nightmare for us.

"Seriously though, did you get any work done regarding the wedding?" Adiba asks between dinner bites. Ali is busy trying to chew through the slightly overdone kebab meat. He swallows and discretely rubs his jaw, "Umm, Deeba? What animal was that?"

"It's goat, Ali. So, Minnie, about the preparations..."

"I've eaten goat before baby, are you sure you picked it from the mutton section?" He dubiously stabs the kebab which bounces back with an ominous clunk.

"Oh. Damn! I totally forgot...This piece is from that time I went hunting, and shot that unicorn in it's horned face." She pats his cheek sympathetically, "It's okay sweetie, unicorn meat is supposed to be a little tough."

"Meanie..." Ali mumbles as he stabs his food some more.

"Shehzer wants us to leave for US immediately after the Nikah. Which means I have to get my papers together. At such short notice, I can't get emigration, but I have applied for a student VISA instead." I spear a tomato in my salad. "MICA (Maryland Institute College Of Arts) has a pretty low acceptance rate, so I have applied to other schools too. The dragon helped me gather my documents together for the travel."

"Aaargghhhh! Minnieee! you're not going to be around anymore!" Adiba gets up to give me one of her strangle/hugs. "We just got used to being sisters!"

After the tiny blubber fest, I told them about my Nikah plans.

"I want the reception to be held at My Castle." I reveal hesitantly. The idea had originally been Kulsoom Nani's, but I quickly grew in love with the thought of celebrating at a place built with love. Okay, so the picturesque gardens, and the gorgeous gazebo did sell me on it, but mostly it was the cheesy love part. Yes, I am a hopeless romantic. Sue me.

"That sounds amazing! HEY! we could theme it around old mughal style! OMG that would be gorgeous! The backdrop is already so Haveli-ish. Eeeepp! I am a genius!" Adiba squeals in glee.

For the next few days, Adiba, Dragon and I were a whirlwind of wedding and Eid preparations. I never realized how much work both these things are, and I missed my Ma a lot. Somehow she never lets me fully realize how much she does for me.

Shehzer's family from Lahore were arriving for Eid, and staying until our Nikah ceremony. He had warned me about his maternal grandfather (Nana), apparently, he was pretty much Kulsoom Nani's male version, (Except in unadulterated Punjabi). I guess most old people are a little crazy, so I wasn't too worried about it.

"Seriously though Mina; his ideas about women are slightly archaic, so don't get offended to quickly..." He told me over the phone.

"Oh, Puhleez! I have very thick skin Shehzer, I'm not offended that easily. It is sweet of you to warn me though..." I tucked the phone under a different ear, as I concentrated on my latest project at work. This one was a particularly intricate geometric design painting for a poetry book. I bit my tongue as I carefully applied the brushstrokes.

"He thinks only ugly women need to work, as beautiful women would already husbands who took care of them...." His blunt reply made me mess up an entire row of painted hexagons.

"WHAAAATTT???" I screeched back, feminine sensibilities in hyper drive. That male chauvinist...

"Thick skin, remember love? Thick. skin." he chuckles back.

................

Adiba had insisted on designing my wedding invites herself. I was stunned when she came back from work with a couple of hundred finished pieces. It was an antique scroll-style invite, gold embossed with the wedding details. The back cover was a print of a tiny Mughal-Art painting she herself had done of me and Shehzer. We looked remarkably like ourselves (except in ancient royal attire), surrounded by rose sniffing attendants, and arched geometric architecture. The whole effect was unique and incredible.

"Adiba, I can't even....I'm...You're..." I try to say something that will suffice for this. She beams at me, and leans over to kiss my cheek.

"Please don't say anything. This is nothing..."

Except, for me, it is everything.

Mom and Dad are duly impressed by our efforts. Whenever I speak to her, Ma has an ongoing list of instructions, and advice for me.

"Make sure you're awake early and dressed properly on Eid morning. Shehzer's family will be staying next door, and who knows how early Lahori people start making Eid visits. Best be prepared..." She rattles off during a skype call, looking adorable in her Hajj scarf. "Also, make sure you ask Ali to send over the sacrificial meat to all the relatives. Just ask Zunaira (our maid) to take the rest of it home with her...She has to feed a family of twenty people at her home, and they rarely get to enjoy meat."

While I am grossed out by the animal blood and gore associated with this festive occasion, I cannot deny the lovely sentiment of "Giving" attached to it.

This is the first time I'll be celebrating Eid without my entire family together, and it feels weird. Next year, I won't be here for any of the Eids...The thought depresses me, but I push it away. One problem at a time.

............

I reached home from work one day to find the courier-service guy from TCS standing at our doorstep, holding a couple of red boxes, and a bunch of fresh-cut lilies. I smiled gleefully at this. I LOVE PRESENTS! (Even if they aren't for me)

"Hi! Who is this for?" I ask the guy politely.

"Uhh, A Miss Mina Amin?" He checks the top box.

"That's me!!" I beam, as I scribble down my signature and totter inside.

The flowers smell amazing!

I check the box tag for a return address. Nothing. Weird. Hmm...Maybe It's from Shehzer...

I grab a knife and slice through the taped box to find a gorgeous triple chocolate Oreo Cake. I immediately know who sent it.

Only one person knows about this particular cake.

Only one person knows exactly how many Ferreros to put on top of it.

The memory is so strong it feels like yesterday.

"Oh my Gaahh! Areeeeb! this cake is HEAVEN! it's like a bloody paah-ty in my mouth!" I switch over to my Gordon Ramsey impression as I lick my fingers clean. Areeb returned home from his college in Islamabad for winter break today, and called an emergency meeting for the three of us.

Areeb laughs at my expression of bliss. "It's a good thing I'm allergic to chocolate, or else I would become overweight from eating this in Islamabad all the time."

"I'll gladly move to Islamabad, just to eat this stuff!! Mmm!" Adiba gobbles up her own slice.

"You know what will make this even better?" I eyed the last remaining portion.

"What will?" Areeb asks, fiddling with his guitar.

"If there were like 9 Ferreros (Ferrero Rocher) on top of the Oreo layer." Adiba and I moan over the visual of it.

"Why not 10? or 12?" Areeb's dimples deepened with his smirk.

"Naww...9 is fine. 10 says desperate, and 12 says Diabetic." I state matter-of-fact-ly.

"You know what.... When you fall in love with someone, I'll get you this same cake. It will have just the right number of Ferreros on top of it." Areeb's eyes are unfathomably profound in that moment. I see a hollow sort of yearning inside them.

"What if I never fall in love?" I shrug. "Why should I be denied dessert?"

He looks thoughtful, "Hmm...okay, then. When you get hitched to some poor bastard, I'll get you this cake!"

I'm hyped up on sugar as I jump around Areeb's room. "Woohoo! Now that's the motivation I needed to get married! Swear by something. Swear by your car!"

"Nah, I'll probably change my car in a couple of months. I'll just swear by this baby." he strokes his vintage electric guitar, the love of his life at present.

"Awesome!" I yell back as I throw myself on his bed.

Simba brings me back to the present with a moody rub against my ankles. I hastily count the Ferrero truffles stuck haphazardly over the Oreo topping.

Nine.

Go figure.

I resist the urge to smash the cake as everything about our screwed up relationship flashes before my eyes.

How dare he?

I tear open the second box to find a folded note and a velvet pouch. I unfold the note with shaking hands;

Dear Minnie Mouse,

I know you hate me. I know you'd rather forget about me, but I simply can't let you get married without fulfilling my little promise. You have every right to tear this up before reading. You have every right to stomp on my cake. But we both know you love chocolate too much for that.

Sorry for the hurt I caused you. Sorry for the pain I put you and everyone in your family through.

I know you might be wondering why I ever proposed to you, when I obviously never had "Those" feelings for you. Maybe you'll find out soon. Maybe you'll forgive me then.

Just know that you can never hate me as much as I hate myself.

I tried to reach for something that wasn't ever meant to be mine. Like Icarus, reaching for the sun; I got burned.

I am still burning. I will probably keep burning.

I won't even bother asking for your forgiveness, because I don't want you to forgive me. The day you forgive me, is the day you don't give a shit about me, so I'd rather you keep on holding that grudge.

I pray (The IRONY!) that you're beyond happy in your life. Shehzer seems like a good guy. Definitely a 9.5 Haha.

Hope you're not on a diet at the moment. These nine rochers are meant to be savored.

Love,

Areeb.

P.S: Please don't throw my gifts away. I want you to be able to remember me as someone who is more than a cheating douche-bag. They belong with you. No matter how much you deny it, I'll always be part of your past.

I am sobbing by the time I manage to tug open the pouch he sent me. It has a tiny Minnie Mouse figurine he got me years ago from a Disneyland trip, and the gold threaded pearl necklace he got me after our engagement.

Simba meows worriedly at my tears, and I hug him to my neck.

Will he ever stop destroying me?

Author's Note:

Quick announcements regarding the previous chapter,

There were some issues with the last chapter regarding grammar editing and the cover photo (Of Mina's ring). I have edited it, so anyone who's interested will have to refresh the novel in their app in order to see the changes. (I think you're supposed to re-log into the app to do it)

Oh, and also:

A) No. Kohli isn't hot or cute. Ew.

B) Dill Dill Pakistan. Kay. *Sings "Tum Jeeto ya haaro."*