I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.

— Jonathan Safran Foer

☾

"When I was young, I'd see mother cry many nights in the living room or hallways, sometimes even locked up in her room. I would ask her what was wrong, and she would either make an excuse or shoo me away. When I grew up, I understood the reason behind her tears. They were for a justifiable cause-- her tears, I mean. Every night that baba wouldn't come home to her and spend outside with another one, it would break her."

The sun is midway down the sky close to falling and inviting evening. The sky is in pastel shades of orange and pink, unlike the melancholy of their moods. Mikael sits beside her in the balcony of his hotel room as she narrates to him the events that has unfolded in her life.

"You think she would understand me, but she begs for me to stay. I get her though-- she's helpless at the hands of her love for her children and the authority baba has over us. She longs for Zoraiz but doesn't see him in years. She doesn't want the same with me."

"I told you I can accept what your family is asking of me," he offers but she shakes her head in denial.

"And I told you I don't want that."

"Because you're afraid I'll give into temptations?"

She looks away from the sky to him and smiles sadly. "No, but because I know you don't want that yourself. So I don't want you to make this sacrifice for me."

"Doctor." He takes her hand in his and presses it to his heart. "This sacrifice is so little. I can die for you."

"But I don't want to start our relationship upon sacrifices already. I'd rather build it upon trust. Besides, what good would you be dead to me?" she adds the last statement jokingly and he chuckles lightly.

"You need time to trust me again, I can wait for you to eternity, until you give into my love."

"No, Mikael. I don't want such love. I don't want a love which is so patient to wait forever for me." She retracts her hand and instead, holds his face in both of her hands, staring into his eyes intently. He burns into the fervor of her gaze like a moth to a flame. "Do you not love me with the intensity I love you with?"

"Banafsha." He tilts his head closer to hers, his gaze fleetingly flicking to her lips before back up. "Words are words, too limited for feelings. But even if I try to show you with my actions the intensity of my love for you, I'll still fail-- it still won't be enough. This is how much I love you."

A smile slowly creeps up her mouth in contentment. "Then don't tell me you'll wait for me. Tell me you'll fight for me. Tell me you'll win my trust back-- that you'll not lose my love. Because I too, love you, that with the passion of insanity. And even when I tell you I don't need saving, please save me. Because this heart hurts at the thought of leaving you-- it aches for you."

He stares at her, speechless, wanting to tear open his breastbone and cage her within his ribcage, within the chambers of his heart, feel her into his every heartbeat. As if he doesn't already. As if the madness of his heart is any less now. Mikael cups her the back of her neck and pulls her closer to himself until their noses touch.

"Come home with me. I don't want a life without you."

She grazes her fingers down the angle of his jaw to his chin. "Sometimes, you're a dream, Mikael. I'm afraid of waking up and finding you gone. It's difficult to assure myself you belong to me."

"Why so?"

"Because for so long I've envied Shirin for having your love-- I wanted to be loved the same," she confesses, and he hears the guilt in her voice. "I'd see you wearing the ring of her name-- you never wore the ring my family gave you on our nikah." Her hand drops to his shirt buttons and she starts toying with them mindlessly. "Lala said that I'm either blind or shameless to be head over heels for you. Blind because the things I accuse them for, they accuse you for them too, saying that you married a prostitute yourself and you can very well treat me the way I fear. But I said even if Shirin was a prostitute, she must be dignified in the sight of God to be blessed with someone like you, no matter for what good deed, even a little deed counts in the court of Lord. And you're dignified in my sight to give a woman your name society was trying to dishonor, despite everything." She looks at him and he drowns in her eyes, sinks to the bottom and promises himself to breathe his last in her love. "And shameless because I fell for you when I didn't know who you were, taking you for someone else than my husband, thus cheating our marriage."

"No, doctor." He releases her neck and cups her jaw instead, stroking it with his thumb. "Many wouldn't be loyal in a relationship they're forced into. Yet you guarded your chastity from me when you didn't know my identity, respecting the sacredness of our marriage. You claimed you'd rather divorce your husband than cheat him, remember?" He rest his forehead against hers." That is very much modest to me, no matter what anyone else says. What more could a man ask for than a wife who guards his shame and pudency? Women like you are pride for their husbands-- you are my pride, Banafsha. I'd choose you for myself a myriad times over than any other woman, knowing I can trust you with all my heart."

She closes her eyes and he notices her tears falling. Mikael pulls back slightly and wipes dry her cheeks.

"I've made you cry many times, haven't I?" he mutters softly. "I wish there was a better way to do all this, so I wouldn't have brought you this much suffering. I've hurt you, doctor, I'm sorry."

"No." She forces out a smile but the anguish in her orbs remains. "Don't you ever blame yourself for anything, Mikael. There probably couldn't have been any other way. The night of our nikah if I had seen you, I never would've bothered knowing you. And what a loss I would've been in then." She gazes at him fondly, with immense affection, and he decides this is the way he wants to be looked at for the rest of his life. "I haven't loved you blindly-- this is something I don't believe in. I fell for you bit by bit, not at first or second sight. It was a process that cannot be reversed. I did find you handsome though, but it could never have been the reason for me to love you. You're a blessing, you know why?"

"Why?" he asks in a whisper.

"Because you helped me find God, and He helped me find the right path. He gave me guidance, and He made you reason. Something so precious couldn't have come easily to me, no matter how close God always have been to me. Because we humans are so, we disregard everything that comes easily to us. But what we have to earn for ourselves, we treasure it. And I treasure you, Mikael." She takes both of his hands in hers and hold them to her heart. "No matter how much God could've loved me, because He loves each of us nonetheless, but the solace one finds in His love, it only comes when you truly find Him-- when you get that closure to Him. And you helped me find that solace. This pain will pass away too. People will talk, they always do. But between the norms of society and the principles of God if I've to choose, I'll choose God, and I'll fight for His principles, and I won't give away to the glitters of the world-- for the glitters of the world have led many astray. I'll choose what is right. I'll choose you."

He cannot help the smile on his face-- it feels like some permanent signature. But her words make him happy-- they make him feel alive. He's afloat in euphoria, yet sinking in her adoration at the same time.

"You know what is the key to heaven, doctor?" he questions faintly.

"Tell me," she half orders, half requests.

"Besides the obvious guidance of our Lord, a righteous spouse who helps you preserve and follow that guidance. This was the first relationship to be created, between Adam and Hawwa (Eve), of husband and wife-- a relationship dear to God. And so, we must seek that virtue when we're looking for a friend for life. And I've found my virtue in you. You, too, are my blessing, Banafsha." Slowly, he leans forward and kisses her forehead, then stares into her eyes as he recites her a verse from the Quran, "And among His Signs is that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that you may dwell in tranquility with them, and he placed between you love and mercy; verily in that are signs for those who reflect."

She grins at him and bites down her lip, absorbing in the message before nodding in acknowledgment.

"Zoraiz once told me how it's easier to follow the flock than stand against the wind, because it requires less effort, but that how it can rather be cowardly with petty rewards, if having any reward at all. I'm understanding the meaning of his words now."

"Your brother is a good man, doctor. He has a kind and humble heart. May God bless Him with more of His light."

He watches her features dissolve into angst and her demeanor tenses up. She lowers her gaze to their joined hands, mumbling quietly, "Ameen." Then looks back up at him. "When are you leaving back for home?"

"Tomorrow. When is your flight?"

"Next week."

"And your family?"

"They're my blood, Mikael. I cannot cut them off no matter what. It would be like cutting a part of my body and throwing it away."

He hums. "True, but will they accept your decision?"

"They were displeased with Zoraiz, but eventually forgave him. They won't disown me. I just need to give them some time to accept it all."

"I appreciate your decision, doctor, and I respect it."

He chews on his lips anxiously and Banafsha lightly tug his sleeve to get his attention.

"Is something the matter?"

He clears his throat and glances away to the sky. The sun is almost swallowed by the horizon. The day is nearing its end, so is his time here.

"I was thinking of going to see baba. It's been long since..." he trails off and she squeezes his hand comfortingly, offering him her support. Mikael turns back to her. "I think I'm finally ready to let go off the past. But there are certain matters I need to settle with him first."

She smiles in encouragement. "Well, what are you waiting for then?"

"Well, will you come with me?"

"You want me to?" she asks, surprised.

"I definitely do."

Her thumb caresses his gently as she agrees, "Okay then, Mikael."

☾

The years certainly have changed the place he grew up in. The house as he remembers it once to be isn't the same anymore. It has been a lengthy time that he stayed away from his home.

A guard receives him at the door and asks for his introduction. It is funny to him how he formerly was the lord of this house, today he's unknown to these people. Of course, the workers in the house aren't the same as before, having been replaced over the span of the years. Or maybe there are some old ones too still serving his father. But the guards at the gate are new and he doesn't recognize them from his memory.

"Tell Mr. Khalil Aurang is here to meet him," Mikael tells the guard who shakes his head at him.

"Mr. Khalil doesn't meet people at this hour. And we weren't informed of you having an appointment with him."

"Just make a call to him, please. It's important."

"I'm sorry, sir. But we're asked not to disturb him or let anyone into the house after working hours. I hope you understand we're only performing our duty."

Banafsha steps beside him and speaks up on his behalf, her tone naturally more commanding than his polite one.

"I'm Banafsha Humayun, Humayun Asad's daughter. Either you make a call to your lord or I make my father call him for keeping his daughter waiting at the door. The choice is yours. But I warn you, the consequences of the latter might not be fancy in your favor."

The guards exchange a look, apprehensive now, but don't make a move. Banafsha pulls out her phone from her bag.

"Fine. I was only considerate not wanting you to lose your jobs."

"Madam," they quickly stop her before she can dial the number. "We'll inform Mr. Khalil. Give us a minute."

She crosses her arms impatiently. "Tell him Aurang is here to see him."

One of the guard goes inside the house and Mikael raises a stunned eyebrow at his wife. Banafsha tilts her head, arching an eyebrow back questioningly.

"What?"

"That attitude," he comments.

"Comes in handy." She lowers her voice as she adds, "Although I'm glad I didn't get to make a call to baba. I'm in no position to be making threats using his name."

He chuckles. "Shouldn't have risked it."

"You're worth it."

He soars at her replying, feeling warm, and puts his arm around her, hugging her to his side. "Thank you, malika (queen)."

She only smiles lovingly at him in response.

A few minutes later, they're led inside the house by one of the servants. The place speaks of luxury and money, everything polished new, the house probably renovated recently for his father's third wedding. Though still, those nooks and corners gives him nostalgia. Mikael is quick to shake it off.

They enter a living room where a young and stunning woman is already waiting for them. She stands up as she sees them approaching, smiling welcomingly at them.

"Hello, Aurang," her eyes briefly flicks to Banafsha and she tips her head in a greeting, "and miss?"

"Mrs. Aurang Idris," Banafsha introduces herself as his wife and his heart spasms in delirium.

"Ah." The woman observes her more closely now. "Humayun Asad's daughter? We heard of the nikah. Congratulations." She smiles tightly. "I'm Afreen, Mrs. Idris Khalil."

Banafsha gives her a long stare while he simply averts his gaze from Afreen. His step mother is about decade younger than him, more so, younger than his own wife. Idris Khalil certainly has weaknesses for women, that too young and beautiful.

"Aurang?"

The familiar male voice calls him with sheer astonishment and he turns to look in the direction. His father, having grown older than the last he remembers, gray hair covering more than just his temples now, enters the living room, carefully walking towards him as if he's hallucinating him in front of him and is afraid of breaking the illusion.

"You're home, son?"

Idris Khalil comes to stand a foot away from him, reaching out to hold his shoulders, as if assuring himself of his presence. He grins widely, his orbs clearly reflecting the joy of having him.

"I..." Mikael searches for the right words but the situation weighs upon him with both awkwardness and oddity. "I'm here to meet you, baba," he struggles to utter, "but I'm not here to stay."

Idris Khalil studies him keenly and Mikael flicks his tongue between his lips.

"I came to Pakistan for my wife," he tells him. "But tomorrow I leave back for Dublin. I thought to let go of what had been between us; it's been too long."

"Your wife?" He looks behind his son to Banafsha standing near him, his irises flashing in recognition and something else-- something Mikael doesn't like. "Banafsha?" Idris smiles at her. "Her father and I are old friends."

"Salam," Banafsha greets him out of respect, and the sly look in his eyes only intensifies.

"The last I saw you was when you were only a little girl. Look at you now, all grown into such an attractive woman," Idris remarks, and Mikael feels something snap in him.

"Baba," he hisses menacingly, stepping in front of his wife, and Idris shifts his gaze to him. All this while later, with him having aged so much, the lust of a beast in his eyes is still young. Only if this man wasn't his father, he probably would've forgotten all the lessons of how patience is a virtue.

Idris opens his arms for him. "All these years later you come home, you wouldn't even give your father a hug."

Mikael grasps Banafsha's wrist, keeping her behind him and out of his father's hungry sight.

"All these years later I've come home only to tell you that I'm finally able to move on from the tragedy that took my wife and son seven years before. But," he leans closer to Idris and lowers his voice dangerously, "I still haven't made peace with the fact that you were the reason behind the murders."

Idris Khalil glowers at his son with malcontent and Mikael returns his stare daringly. "You still think I was the reason?"

"I know so. I don't need the evidence; you didn't leave behind one anyway-- you were good at covering your tracks. But the truth isn't hidden from me."

"You're here to accuse me?"

"I'm here to warn you, either you confess or not, I still haven't forgotten anything. It's difficult for me to forgive you, but I see you still have no intentions of making it any easier for me." He tones down his volume for only his father to hear. "I wasn't able to bring justice to Shirin; I tried to protect her from you one way but you took her from me another way. I won't be quiet this time though, even if it means ripping apart the earth to bury my own father alive," he threatens, deadly in his seriousness. "Not Banafsha, baba. Don't see her as another object for your gratification. Because even if at the cost of my own life, I'll protect her from you and everyone else."

Without waiting for a reply, Mikael takes Banafsha with him and leaves the house, never looking back.

☾

Hello, one thing to clarify here: I'm not trying to portray age gap relationships as something wrong, like Idris and Afreen, but the point is the intention of making such relationships, in this case only lust but no love or sincerity in marriage.

So closer to the end now. Let's move the setting back to Dublin. We've a confession and surprise. Who's ready?

☾