Qaina woke up around 6 in the morning and she honestly regretted taking a nap in the afternoon. Her head felt heavy with sleep and she was sure it won't stop the entire day.

"You are awake?" She heard Nawaz saying from her right side. He was probably lying on her right side.

"Yeah. But I am still feeling sleepy." She held her head and rested her back against the headrest.

"Then sleep."

"No, I am starving."

"Let me call the maid." Saying so he rang a bell to the maid and ordered to bring a sandwich layered with pasta and veggies, that was Qaina's favourite according to what he observed.

"Are you upset?" She asked.

"How do you know?" He asked, doubting her blindness for the hundredth time.

"I can feel it." Her reply was honest.

"How?" His tone was desperate.

"I just felt it."

He huffed a sigh and put his head on her lap. Qaina's soft hands began massaging his temples and finally he felt a little relief wash over him.

"What happened?"

"Nikhat and Atif are married and they are expecting."

"That's a good news." She smiled.

"How? They hid it from me. And why aren't you shocked? You are behaving like you know it since the beginning." He looked at her face to find her smiling.

"Because I knew it since the beginning. The day I was kidnapped and Atif was about to kill me and then Nikhat saved me, through their words I had an idea that there is something lovey-dovey going on between them."

"Was it that much obvious? How come I didn't notice it?"

"You understand through words and I understand through tone."

"And what makes the difference?"

"I can understand more than just words."

"Qaina, you are confusing me." He held her both hands and put them close to where his heart lies.

"Then don't try to understand."

"You are my wife. It won't work if I don't try to understand you." He placed a kiss on her palm.

"Then keep trying." She blushed.

"Sure, let's start with your lips."

Before Qaina could react to his words, he gets up and straddles her. Without wasting any further second he locked their lips into a passionate kiss. He interlinked their fingers placing them on either side of her head. He was soft at the beginning but as Qaina responded he lost his control. Qaina moaned making it harder for him.

It could have led to something else if they weren't interrupted by a knock on the door.

Nawaz groaned in frustration, which made Qaina laugh.

He went to open the door and was met by the sight of a raging Atif.

Well, that was something unexpected. He had expected the maid with sandwiches. Not an angry Atif.

"What brought you here?" Nawaz asked, even when he knew the exact reason.

"What did you say to her?"

"Truth." He said nonchalantly.

"For once I can justify why you try to belittle me. But you are doing the same to your sister as well. Nawaz, why are you trying to dictate our lives?"

"I never dictated anyone. It was you and Nikhat who never trusted me. And trust me she doesn't turst you either."

"Oh really, why she won't trust me?"

"Has she told you about her pregnancy?"

That was all needed to turn Atif's angry into utter confusion. Without uttering a single word he left, but not before glaring at Nawaz for the last time.

Nawaz felt a heaviness in his heart. Maybe he was incapable of raising a sister without parents. Maybe it's his fault that Nikhat don't trust her own shadow.

He returned to his wife, who probably heard the conversation between him and her stepbrother.

Now he wasn't in the mood of love making so he simply rested his head on her shoulder. She caressed his face.

"Everything will be alright."

"I doubt that."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Atif entered his room, but all his anger died down looking at Nikhat's state. The t-shirt he put on her was nowhere to be seen. She was panting, struggling to breath properly. Her body was drenched in sweat.

If they were in normal situation then Atif would have led this to something passionate. But at that moment he knew something was wrong with her.

He went closer to her and Nikhat hugged him as if he was her only lifeline. Without a word being exchanged she kissed him.

It wasn't love, passion or desire.

It was fear.

Her kisses had some emotions that he was unable to understand. But he knew it wasn't anything near love.

"Nikhat, are you alright?"

She didn't reply and kept devouring him. Atif was her husband, the man who loved her to the moon and back and he just couldn't control himself. He gave into his desires. But he knew it wasn't their usual sweet love making.

It was Nikhat's escape from her fears. She was simply seducing him so that she could console herself. She was unbelievably manipulating her own self.

Atif cupped her cheeks and finally responded to her kisses. She tugged on his shirt to get it out and he like an obedient husband got rid of his clothes.

His hands roamed on her back and hers rested on his nape. Lips interlocked and hearts at vulnerability. It didn't felt good like other times. It wasn't good at all. But they couldn't do anything. Atif was doing it because he loved Nikhat. And Nikhat was doing it because she was afraid.

"I love you, Nikhat." But he didn't got any response like all other times. She didn't even smile. It broke his heart.

But he put a smile and continued doing the most torturous intercourse of his marital life.

It felt like she was using him. He was just a puppet at her mercy. But the tragedy is he would gladly be her puppet till the time he gets her love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After few hours when Qaina was done babysitting her husband and Atif was done satisfying his wife, their paths crossed near the stairs.

Atif didn't react to their encounter. He showed as if he didn't saw her. But then it dawned upon him that she can't see him pretending.

Qaina recognised his fragrance and something clicked in her mind.

"Atif Bhai!" She called him.

To be honest he felt elated when she called him Bhai. He always wanted to be called with this endearment by a blood-mate. But then he remembered his father's cruelties and his expressions hardened.

"What?" He asked coldly.

His coldness didn't affect her excitement as she greeted.

"Happy Birthday!"

At that moment he wanted to cry. He was expecting Nikhat to give him a surprise but she didn't. He was expecting Nawaz to at least tell him arrogantly that he knows it's his birthday today. But here his stepsister, whom he pretends to hate, is wishing him.

He wish he could hug her. He wish he could call her "Qainu". He wish he could adore her. And he really wanted to do so. But then how he could forget his mother's cries when his father would be spending nights with his pregnant lover and unborn illegitimate daughter.

Qaina touched his shoulder and reached to hold his hand. She kissed his palm and put a bracelet on his wrist.

It wasn't any fancy bracelet. It was old and not so appealing, but it was handmade. Made with love.

"I had made it for my brother. But I didn't had a brother so I had to keep it to myself. But now when I know that I have a big brother so I am giving it to you."

She smiled and that innocent smile was enough to end his hatred and melt his heart. But he was hesitant. However, his moist eyes and the tears in them were the evidence of his emotional breakdown at her gesture.

"Are you crying?" She asked.

"How do you know?" He asked, doubting her blindness for a moment.

"I can feel it."

"Feel what?"

She cupped his cheeks and few teardrops dropped on her fingers.

"Your tears." She continued. "Why do you hate me? Please Bhai, I have got my real family after a long phase and I don't want to lose you."

"I..I don't hate you. I hate the fact that my father chose your mother over my mamma. I don't hate you, Qainu." And he embraced her into a protective hug.

At that moment he understood he never hated her. He only hated his father's actions. Qaina was innocent. She has also suffered. She was deprived of a family, just like him.

He was now angry on himself. He should have welcomed her with open heart.

But he will do it now.

He will welcome his sister into his life with open arms.

"I am sorry, Qainu. But I promise, I won't hurt my little sister anymore." His tone was that of a child. It held no falsehood. His every word was spoken from the bottom of his heart.

"Okay then, I want a treat. It's your birthday after all." She demanded excitedly.

And he smiled heartily.

This was going to be his bestest birthday.

Only if he knew what was going to happen.