Chapter 50

"No, Dad, I can't go," Salaar instantly denied when Faizan told him to attend the seminar. Their company had been invited to Switzerland, where their business could expand and reach a broader perspective.

"Why?" Faizan wanted to know the reason.

"Because I have some important work here and cannot leave it like this," Salaar retorted. He couldn't leave Ahmed in this state, and besides, it would be a month-long stay-he couldn't tolerate even a day's separation from Zarmeena.

"What sort of work? Can you explain?" Faizan was adamant about knowing the reason, fearing Salaar's independent ventures.

"Oh, Dad, don't force him," Taimur chimed in.

"Yes," Salaar said, excited to have his brother's support.

"He will miss Zarmeena... Dad, be understanding," Taimur added, teasing Salaar and winking, catching him off guard.

"Taimur!" Salaar, already irritated, shot warning glares at him, signaling him to stop right there.

"Okay, okay... Dad, I'm serious. Let him stay here. I'll manage, don't worry," Taimur said, this time seriously, offering to go alone.

"Salaar, do you want me to go with Taimur in this state of health? Or are you scared that I will strengthen my bond with Zarmeena?" Faizan finally hit a nerve and played his health card.

"Well, that's called blackmailing," Salaar muttered, trying to express some resentment over Faizan's strategy.

"This is not blackmail; it's called the utilization of skills," Faizan clarified.

"Dad, can you drop me off at university?" Out of nowhere, Zarmeena intervened.

"Daaaddd," Salaar, stretching the word "dad," was flabbergasted by this new development behind his back.

"Yes, Dad... Let's go, my lovely daughter." To push Salaar into more annoyance, Faizan played the doting father.

"Since when did he become your dad?" Salaar asked Zarmeena, emphasizing the word "dad" through gritted teeth.

"Since you started running like a bullet whenever you receive a call," Zarmeena retorted.

"I don't get you," Salaar said, skeptical.

"You don't need to," Zarmeena answered in her signature fiery tone.

"Yes, and don't you dare ever come between this daughter and her father. Understand?" Faizan said with determination, his voice tinged with warning. Waving goodbye, both of them left, leaving Salaar standing there, mouth agape.

Taimur and Warda couldn't control their chuckles at the melodrama unfolding in their home. Warda silently prayed that this joy and prosperity would never leave their family.

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Salaar was patiently lingering outside Ahmed's room, waiting for the doctor to finish examining him. Zubair could easily sense his uneasiness. Although it was a very risky decision, Zubair admired Salaar's resolve and sense of responsibility.

The door creaked open, and the doctor emerged, followed by the bodyguards who quickly locked the door after him. Salaar instantly approached the doctor.

"Mr. Malik, it's confirmed from the tests-he has been taking drugs. But luckily, he hasn't been using them for too long. However, the drug he took was very strong, so it will be difficult for him to control his urges. He could be triggered often, even to the point of hurting himself or others. Such patients often struggle to handle emotional breakdowns and may relapse. You will have to stay strong and ensure he doesn't use again," the doctor explained Ahmed's condition.

"Doctor, how is he otherwise? I asked you to examine him thoroughly," Salaar asked, worry etched on his face. He wanted to ensure that Ahmed wasn't harmed in any way, either physically or mentally, as a consequence of his addiction.

"Don't worry, Mr. Khan. He is safe," the doctor reassured him. Salaar's sigh, which had been caught in his throat, finally escaped, and he felt relieved.

Ahmed wasn't lying. Even criminal records showed no charges filed against him. This meant he only needed medication and proper care to recover.

Once the doctor left, Salaar turned to Zubair.

"Zubair, I have to go to Switzerland with Taimur. But I don't know what to do. Ahmed needs my attention. If I refuse to go, Dad will take my place, and traveling along with the business stress isn't good for his health. I'm extremely confused-what should I do?"

"Sir, you have to trust me. I can take care of Ahmed. Believe me. Don't disappoint Faizan Sir. I'm here to look after Ahmed," Zubair replied confidently.

Zubair's words soothed the tension on Salaar's face.

"Okay, Zubair. I trust you. But please send me daily video updates of Ahmed. Otherwise, I'll keep worrying and won't be able to focus on the business trip," Salaar said.

Zubair nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. He could easily sense Salaar's deep concern for Ahmed.

"I wish Madam Zarmeena would realize the deep and pure love Sir Salaar has for her and her family," Zubair thought, starting to sympathize with this man who had a heart of gold.

Ahmed was in a slumber when a dream struck him. He found himself in a desert, all alone. A black eagle passed above his head, making a scratching sound sharp enough to pierce anyone's brain. Suddenly, he felt a thirst-a thirst that had no end but grew stronger with every step he took.

He roamed restlessly, searching for water to quench his thirst. But the thirst tightened its grip on his body, encaging him and driving thorn-like pain into his skin. He tried to remove the imaginary cactuses that seemed to wrap around him, but they multiplied at a frightening speed, reaching his throat and making it difficult to breathe. His suffocation grew unbearable-neither allowing him to live nor letting him die. The pain, the irritation, and the suffocation were excruciating.

"Please, please, someone save me! This thirst... this thirst is tearing me apart. Oh, my God, please, make it stop! Please give me death if you can't cure me, but end this torment, I beg you!"

His pain and thirst were so overpowering that they drowned out his prayers and sobs. Then his eyes flew open. It was a dream-a bad dream, a nightmare. But if it was only a dream, why could he still feel the thirst, the pain? He clutched his throat with his hands, his whole body drenched in cold sweat.

"I want to live... yes, I want to live, and I need that. Yes, I will get it! I need to get it!"

With a sudden jerk, he leapt out of bed and ran toward the door. But it was locked. He threw his entire weight and strength against it, but the door was as stubborn as his unquenchable thirst. He failed and began pounding frantically.

"Open this, please! I need to go! Please, please! I will die... Is there someone outside? Please!"

No one answered. He collapsed onto the floor, his head in his hands. Leaning against the wall, he began sobbing, tears of helplessness streaming down his face. The pain, the suffocating thirst-it felt endless.

And the door cracked open, letting a beam of light seep into the dark room. Ahmed, blurred by tears, noticed a shadow emerging from the light-a shadow growing larger and larger until it engulfed his body, merging him into itself, as though his very existence had become a mere part of that shadow.

Was it an angel or a demon? Would it take away his scorching thirst and dwelling pain, bringing solace to his soul, or would it remind him of God's decree that this agony would remain forever?

The shadow continued to grow, bringing its presence closer and closer until it towered over Ahmed. Then, it bent its form toward him, extended its arms, and helped him stand. Ahmed was stunned-flabbergasted, dumbfounded, his soul gripped by fear. What would be the decision of his God? Would he find relief, or would he remain encaged in this unending agony?

He closed his eyes in submission to God, silently accepting whatever decision awaited him.

And then he felt it-the embrace, the hold, the arms wrapping around his trembling body. The touch was tender, soothing. It could belong to none other than an angel. Slowly, Ahmed felt the pain in his soul begin to fade, the unrelenting thirst leaving his body. A wave of peace washed over him as he surrendered to that holy embrace.

Finally... finally, his God had forgiven him. His prayers had been answered. God had sent him an angel of love.

And yes-yes-love was bigger than pain.
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"Sorry, I left my file..." Salaar entered the room, casting a glance at Zarmeena, who was sitting on the chair with her head leaned back, her feet overlapped on the study table. She seemed completely engrossed in her book.

"Mr. Malik, this is the third time you've forgotten something. Your memory issues are increasing. I suggest you get it checked by a doctor," she advised, lacing her voice with sarcasm.

"Thank you for your advice..." Salaar plastered a fake smile on his face, boiling inside at her indifferent attitude. He was leaving today; everyone was waiting for him outside. Yet, he kept finding excuses to see her one last time.

"You are welcome," she replied with the same attitude, her focus returning to the book. Salaar had no choice but to leave with a frown.

As he stepped outside, Taimur spoke, annoyance clear in his tone. "Will you get in the car, or are you going back inside to fetch something again? If this goes on, we're going to miss our flight!"

"Don't worry about Zarmeena, son. I'm here to take care of her," Faizan said mockingly.

"Yes, I know," Salaar replied meaningfully.

"Dad, take care of yourself. I love you, Dad. Please don't tease Mom," Salaar said, hugging him.

"I know, son. I'll miss you. Come back soon. I'll be desperately waiting for you," Faizan responded pensively.

As they hugged, Salaar's eyes wandered toward the stairs, and he couldn't believe what he saw. Zarmeena was descending, her gaze fixed on him. She quickly made her way to stand behind Warda. Salaar's heart raced-he wanted to run to her, hug her tightly, and tell her how happy he was that she'd come to see him off. But his assumption was short-lived.

"Dad, I'm bored. Can we play Ludo?" Zarmeena asked Faizan, completely ignoring Salaar.

"Okay, buddy," Faizan replied, momentarily forgetting his sentimentality for Salaar and following Zarmeena back inside, leaving Salaar standing there, frowning.

"First daughter, now 'buddy.' They're all running inside, leaving me far behind," Salaar muttered to himself as he hugged his mother.

The car drove away, taking him even farther from Zarmeena. With a heavy heart, he let out a sigh, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.