Tangling Hearts
Chapter 47
Salaar entered the lobby of his portion, his mind weighed down with countless thoughts. The house was cloaked in silence, all the lights off except for a single lamp in the corner, casting a soft, golden glow. His tired eyes scanned the room until they caught sight of a figure on the floor. She lay motionless, curled into herself as if seeking solace in her sleep.
Salaar stepped closer, his breath catching as the dim light illuminated her face. There was something about her vulnerability in that moment that tugged at his heart. Her face, usually so strong, looked heartbreakingly innocent under the soft glow. A tender smile played on his lips.
Kneeling beside her, he hesitated for a moment before slipping his arms around her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her soft snores brushing against his ear.
He carried her to his room, each step deliberate, as if afraid the spell of the moment might break. Gently, he laid her on the bed, his movements careful, reverent. But as he tried to pull his hand out from beneath her waist, she shifted, her hand brushing against his shoulder before curling around his neck.
Salaar froze.
Her touch was light, almost subconscious, but it held him captive. His pulse quickened, every nerve in his body alive to the sensation. The woman he loved, the one who stirred his soul and tested his patience, was so close, so achingly close.
You have the right , Salaar, his heart whispered. She’s officially yours.
But another voice rose, louder and more stronger.
Stop, Salaar. Not like this. Don’t look at her with such intentions. You’ll only push her further away. She hasn’t forgiven you yet.
A war raged within him his mind battling the magnetic pull of his heart. He forced himself to stay still, even as her warmth seeped into him, even as his senses screamed at him to close the distance.
And then she spoke.
“Amma… please… don’t. Don’t abandon me… please, Amma. Ahmed, don’t go. Please, don’t… Dadi, no… no…this is too much ...dont break me into pieces. Amma”
Her voice was broken, trembling with raw pain, and it shattered him. Salaar’s chest tightened as he watched her, a hard lump forming in his throat. Beneath her composed exterior, beneath her stubborn resilience, was a heart that bled for the family she’d lost. She wasn’t as unyielding as she pretended to be; she was a girl longing for the warmth and love that had been taken from her.
Slowly, Salaar leaned closer, his arms wrapping around her again, not out of desire, but out of a desperate need to comfort her. He wished he could take away her pain, replace it with joy, and give her the love she so deeply craved.
And then it hit him.
This is it, Salaar. This is the way. If you want to win her heart, bring her closer to her family. Help her piece herself together. Unite her with the people who make her feel whole.
Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He silently congratulated himself for the plan forming in his mind. This wasn’t just about love anymore; it was about giving her back what life had cruelly stolen from her.
Her grip loosened as she shifted in her sleep, turning away from him. Salaar exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and smiled an earnest, determined smile.
“Zarmeena Khan… save yourself if you can. Salaar Malik is coming to claim what’s his, .... your heart.”
He cast one last glance at her peaceful face before retreating to the bathroom, his humming laced with quiet mischief.
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Faizan was sitting in the car, heading towards his office, his mind stuck on Salaar.
Was he serious or joking about not joining Malik Estate of Industries? If this was true and he wasn’t joking, their business would be in serious trouble. All these years, Faizan had been desperately waiting for Salaar to get married and join the company as CEO.
In their family, this post was never given to the eldest but to the most eligible. His father, Muhammad Nawaz Malik, had selected him for the post before his death, sensing his capability, and his brothers had never objected. Likewise, Faizan always considered Salaar more suitable for this post than Taimur. If he were in better health, he might have even entertained the idea of letting Salaar explore independent business ventures, thinking he would eventually return to the Malik Empire. But in his current state of health, he could not even risk giving Salaar a chance to leave. To maintain the image of the Malik Empire, Faizan was willing to go to any extent, he would block all exits if necessary.
He picked up his phone and dialed Zubair.
“Zubair, where is Salaar?”
Faizan was a little late because of his routine checkup, and he now feared Salaar might not show up for the meeting. This project was very important to them.
“Sir, Salaar left for the office almost two hours ago for the meeting,” Zubair answered with utmost respect.
“Okay.”
Faizan cut the call as his car reached the huge skyscraper with the logo MIE at its top. The guard quickly opened the door, and his secretary and major security staff followed him to the elevator.
Soon, they reached the beautifully decorated conference room. Many of his company officials and the Sabarwals were seated around the table, and Salaar, dressed in an elegant suit, was giving a presentation with utter confidence.
Sensing Faizan Malik’s arrival, everyone stood from their seats, including Taimur. Faizan, carrying his usual demeanor, took his reserved seat.
Without letting Faizan’s presence shake his confidence for even a moment, Salaar continued his presentation. Faizan silently gazed at the Sabarwals, who were completely absorbed in Salaar’s presentation, their lips curled into smiles of appreciation.
For a moment, Faizan felt proud to be the father of a son with such natural talent to excel and impress.
On the side, Taimur noticed Faizan’s eyes brimming with admiration for Salaar. For a moment, something broke deep inside him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced before. But ever since Nazli entered his life, he could clearly sense that discrimination, which he soon covered with his immense love for his younger brother.
"Mr. Jealous-for-no-reason looks very happy today. What's the matter?" Faizan teased Salaar after the successful meeting with the Sabarwals.
"Dad, you will soon be defeated because I will be the winner this time," Salaar declared with determination while arranging the deed papers.
"Oho, what's changed this time, my dearest son?" Faizan laughed at this childish Salaar, who seemed intent on winning Zarmeena over him.
"I have set all the traps. I will soon bring Zarmeena to my side, wave tata, and fly to far-off lands where you'll never see her again," Salaar announced dramatically, casting Faizan as the villain of a Bollywood movie.
"Over my dead body! Long before that, she will become my daughter. We’ll play Ludo, watch comedy movies, and you’ll be stuck in that balcony, looking at us with longing eyes and a frowning face," Faizan retorted with a wicked smirk.
He tossed what he had caught back at Salaar.
"Ha! We’ll see!" Salaar shot him a fake glare.
"Yes, you will....soon," Faizan growled.
Taimur couldn’t control his laughter at their silly antics, regretting his earlier thoughts.
"Taimur, did you call your mom? When will they be back?" Faizan asked with concern.
"Yes, Dad, they are not coming now. Taya Jii (elder uncle) stopped them for a few more days since his health is not good," Taimur informed.
After Yasmeen's death, Dadi's condition became extreme. The doctor prescribed a change in environment. That is why, along with Warda and Samina, Dadi went to visit her eldest son. Warda didn't want to leave Faizan, but Taimur insisted that she must go, assuring her he would take care of Faizan.
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"What is this?" Zarmeena asked sternly, glaring at Zawyaar, visibly exasperated.
She had come to the university today for a very important lecture. After the lecture, when she was planning to head back to Malik Villas to rest and refresh herself for studying, she received a call from Zawyaar. He had insisted she help him with an urgent task. Despite her refusal, he persisted, claiming it would only take a few minutes.
Reluctantly, she went to meet him. As soon as she arrived, Zawyaar showed her a picture of Leena hugging Salaar with tears in her eyes.
It felt like a hundred jolts of electricity coursed through her body. A strange sense of betrayal overwhelmed her. She felt as if Salaar had cheated on her. But Zarmeena being Zarmeena, she couldn't let herself lose composure in front of anyone.
"What are you trying to show me?" Zarmeena's voice rose with fury.
"Zarmeena, can't you see? Salaar is cheating on you," Zawyaar stammered, clearly fearing her response.
"Zawyaar, who gave you the right to intrude on someone else's privacy?" Zarmeena snapped, her anger evident as she unleashed her fury on him.
"You’re no longer a student here, but it seems you don’t understand the weight of the sacred responsibility of teaching. Instead, you're more interested in meddling in others' personal matters!" Zarmeena's voice grew louder and her words flowed faster, fueled by her rage.
"Zarmeena, I just...." Zawyaar began, but she cut him off abruptly.
"Zawyaar, who gave you permission to take a picture of my husband without his consent?" Zarmeena was so furious that Zawyaar momentarily froze in fear.
"Zarmeena, I just wanted to protect you," he tried to explain.
"Mr. Zawyaar," Zarmeena almost roared, "Who are you to protect me? I never asked for your protection! Consider this your last warning. If something like this happens again, I will personally complain to the Dean of this university!" Zarmeena finished and stormed out of the auditorium with a bang, leaving Zawyaar utterly disappointed.
At the corner, Sajid, who had witnessed the scene, smirked
"Salaar, you might just die with joy knowing that our Zaro is jealous of you today," Sajid thought to himself. He leaned back against the wall, his smirk widening into a grin as he noticed the subtle change in Zarmeena.
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When Zareena reached home after a tiresome day in the field, she wanted to make herself some tea to relax her nerves. She rose from the bed and was heading towards the kitchen when she heard a knock on the door.
"You...."
Upon opening the wooden door, she found Salaar standing in front of her.
"As-salaam alaikum," Salaar said with a smile, greeting her mother in law. Zarmeena's mother had many facial similarities with her, and Salaar felt a surge of respect for her.
"Walaikum as-salaam," Zareena replied, patting his head and stepping aside to make space for him to come inside.
Salaar followed her in, and suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind, the night Yasmeen Dadi had passed away. Yasmeen Dadi had lost her life, and Zarmeena had lost everything that night.
Zareena took a few steps toward the kitchen.
"Please don't bother," Salaar said, trying to stop her from going out of her way.
"I'm making tea for myself," Zareena retorted, proceeding to the kitchen.
"Oh," Salaar said, unable to say more. He glanced around. This was his third visit to this house or maybe the fourth, if he counted the time of his first and only kiss he shared with Zarmeena outside this house. Suddenly, his face started blushing up to his ears.
A few moments later, Zareena brought him a tray with black coffee and homemade chocolate cake.
"Oh... thank you," he said, taking the tray from her hands.
"Are you okay? You're all red. Oh, I think it's a bit hot here. Come inside," Zareena suggested.
"No, it's okay... I'm fine," Salaar replied, trying to hide his nervousness.
"Are you sure?" Zareena asked, concerned.
"Yes, please don't bother," Salaar assured her and took a sip of the coffee. It was amazing. He could smell hints of sandalwood and cinnamon. Taking a bite of the chocolate cake, he couldn't help but marvel at its taste. Both the coffee and the cake reflected the touch of a skilled cook.
I wish I could have this breakfast every day,
Salaar thought. If he had a bit more familiarity with Zareena, he would have asked her to teach this recipe to Aslam.
"Coffee and cake both are very good," Salaar said, unable to stop himself from praising them.
"Zaro's father used to love the coffee I made. And this cake... I make it for Ahmed. Zaro and Ahmed used to fight over it," Zareena said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. Salaar noticed the faint tears welling up in her eyes.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door. Zareena quickly rose to open the door.
"Amma, why do you taaaake so mmmuch time to open the door?" Salaar heard Ahmed's stammering voice. He spoke rudely to his mother, ignoring her soft whispers. In a disheveled state, Ahmed cast a glance at Salaar and, without saying Salaam, entered his room.
This can't be the sweet and innocent boy I met the day of my Nikkah,
Salaar thought, confused by Ahmed's abrupt behavior.
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