[Enjoy!]

"Assalamualeikum." I skipped downstairs wearing a simple black anarkali dress with a chooridar pyjama, a simple black dupatta and black khusse.

Ammi and bhabhi were sitting on the sofa, in the conversation pit, looking at some magazine. They raised their eyes to look at me and started observing me as if I were an alien... Was this a little too Pakistani?

Bhabhi whispered something to ammi laughing and she smacked bhabhi's arm.

I can be comfortable with strangers because I know I got to behave like a stranger, I can be comfortable with my people because I know I have to behave with them like family. Here, I don't know what to do and how to behave; they tell me that I'm family but they don't treat my like a family member.

What's this whispering and laughing at my back?

"Waleikumassalam aao bettho Sawera," ammi patted on the spot next to her "kaisi ho? Palwasha bataa rahi thi tummhaari tabyat kharaab lagg rahi thi?" Ammi asked.

"Nahin, main ttheek hoon." I walked down and sat next to her.

She checked my forehead. "Naashte mein kyaa khaao gi?" I saw a handmaid stopping by.

I swear to God they are so freaking reliant on these servants, I don't like this.

"Main apna naashta khud banaa loon gi." I smiled placing a hand on her hand.

"Sawera, ammi doesn't believe in cultural rituals like that 'pehli rasoi rasam', she didn't let me do it either." Bhabhi explained.

Yeah, but I don't like relying on these servants. "Mujhe subbhah ka nashta banaana passand hai."

"Okay, but it's the most important meal of the day so you better not eat anything unhealthy." Bhabhi ranted the same dialogue my mom does.

I mentally rolled my eyes. I am going to eat something unhealthy.

"Bhabhi, are you going to cook something sweet?" Palwasha asked.

"Ew, what the heck is bhabhi? If you call me bhabhi I'll get unmarried! I'm not that old." I got slightly miffed.

Ammi laughed.

"Do you mean that I'm old?" Bhabhi asked.

No sis, I don't remember your name, calling you Bhabhi is easier. "No, but I don't like being called bhabhi."

Actually, I don't like being called wife, bhabhi, chachi, bahu...

Bhabhi got upset.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that..." I looked across ammi. "I don't like this word being used for me. It's too old fashioned."

Bhabhi ignored me and turned her focus on the magazine.

"I'm sorry bhabhi." I frowned, feeling guilty.

"Mazaak kar rahi hoon Sawera," she laughed looking at me, "itni asaani se kaun naraaz hota hai?"

"Azaan. Paanch apology emails likkh chuki hoon innh do hafton mein."

"What? Really? What did you do?" Palwasha ran down in the conversation pit and sat in front of me, enthusiastically.

"Nothing at all. He's dumb." I claimed and instantly regretted, I looked at ammi who looked a little ruffled by that comment. "I mean, he gets upset at little things."

Oh my God, what do I say!?

"He's a nice person though, I like him." I stated. "Quite understanding, mature, responsible..." I don't know more adjectives!

Ammi smiled, got up and left. Ugh, did she get upset or something?

Bhabhi swiped her ass across the sofa and sat right next to me, not leaving an inch of space. "What else is he?" She smirked.

"What happened last night?" Palwasha chuckled.

Is it just me or are they really awkward? Why the heck is everyone interested in this topic? One, nothing happened. Two, if anything happened I'd not share it, I don't know what's the motive behind asking such questions.

"Palwasha I'll ask you that when you get married." I retorted.

Palwasha looked down and bhabi laughed. "I'm married, tell me what went on between you two."

"If you tell me what happened between bhai and you on your first night, then maybe..." I got up.

"Duh." Bhabhi rolled her eyes. "Do you need any help in making your pehli rasoi?"

"Not really... Do you guys want to watch me cook?" I asked.

"Yes! Of course bha- Sawera aapi, what are you going to cook?" Palwasha's eyes shined with enthusiasm.

"What do you want me to cook?" I wiggled my eyebrows looking down at her.

"Um... What can you cook?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"With the help of YouTube, of course."

"Haha, okay, let me search." Palwasha cheered up and picked her phone.

Bhabhi's phone rang. "Hey, I'll join you both in a bit." She excused herself.

Palwasha and I walked to the kitchen and stood in the middle against the island, I placed my elbows on the black countertop while waiting for Palwasha to decide what to make.

"Um, halwa and kheer is too old-fashioned... What about Ras Malai?" She asked.

"Great, I know how to make that without any tutorial." I flaunted.

"Really? Where did you learn cooking from?" She asked.

"I'm quite self-dependent, I don't rely on servants, I cook my food by myself."

"How long will it take?" Palwasha asked, curiously.

"Are you hungry?" I chuckled and she nodded in response. "It won't take that long."

I started taking out all the ingredients and turned on the electric stove.

"Palwasha," I scratched my forehead, "yaar mera phone le aao please... Maine kuchh calls karni theen."

"Okay, just a minute." She got out of the kitchen.

I started with praying for this to turn out as perfect as possible, then poured the milk in a pot and placed the pot on an induction plate.

Palwasha brought my phone, I called my friends, then placed the phone on speaker. I warned them not to ask or say something inappropriate because the phone was on speaker and we chatted for an hour till my Rasmalai was ready.

Palwasha had told me in the beginning that the men of the house would be home in an hour -it was Friday and it was half-day in their office, they prayed the jummah prayer in a nearby mosque- which meant I should make more Ras Malai so they could taste it as well.

I didn't want to go through that cringy shagun rasam, but I had no option. I made Ras Malai for ten people, I'd obviously eat two bowls, and one extra if anyone liked it.

I heard the men arrive and Palwasha went to call them on the dining table, while I served the dish on the table with the help of two handmaids.

I hadn't had anything since last night and was feeling hungry, but decided to wait for everyone.

I sat down on the table and soon, everyone came in the room. Azaan walked in wearing a white salwar kameez, sat next to me and smiled impressed that I knew how to cook. I shrugged, flaunting.

Abbu praised me and excitedly poured some Ras Malai in his dish, he was about to take a spoon when ammi stopped him dramatically like Mahira Khan's mother-in-law in Humsafar. "Tum ne iss mein cheeni ddaali hai?"

"Ji..." I hesitantly nodded.

Okay shit, everyone's face went dull. Ugh, I hope it's not...

"Abbu aur ammi, donon ko diabetes hain." Bhabhi informed me, frowning. I had somewhat guessed that.

I placed my elbow on the table, closed my eyes and rubbed my temple, hiding my anger. How did Palwasha not tell me about it!? Is she fucking adopted?

"I'm sorry Sawera, I forgot." Palwasha apologised.

It was two people Palwasha, not just your father, not just your mother... Both parents. How can you forget?

"It's okay, I should have asked." My voice probably explained how pissed off I was.

"Koyi baat nahin, yaqeenan bohot achhi ho gi." Abbu smiled, I faintly smiled back. He got up, patted my head blessing me and gave me shagun as if I were six years old.

Ammi got up and went out too. Perfect.

"Does anyone have allergies or something?" I asked Azaan. "You know what? I'm never cooking again." I stomped out and went to my room.

I took my car keys and drove myself to Starbucks for a coffee. Now I understand why people believe in first impression is the last impression. Palwasha is dumb.

An unknown number called me, I turned my phone on silent mode and bravely enjoyed my vanilla coffee milkshake. Drinking cold coffee in winter isn't for cowards.

I like coming to Starbucks instead of telling the servants to make me coffee, which is probably what Azaan would do.

We too had servants at home but just for stuff like dusting and cleaning, I never relied on anyone for stuff like: holding the car door open for me, driving -though mama, papa and bhai have a driver, but I've always preferred sitting on the driving seat and making cool boomerangs for Instagram- and simple stuff that anyone could do.

I finished my coffee and strolled around the city, enjoying the cold weather.

I don't like anything in that house, they are all weird and not my type. I don't want to live in that house... I'll probably run away and live underground.

Palwasha, bhabhi, ammi, all of them are weirdos with mood swings and a weird sense of humour. I haven't talked with bhai and abbu but they wouldn't marry weirdos like ammi and bhabhi if they weren't weirdos as well.

Azaan is okay-ish but he talks when he wants to, he's not my type either.

But it's been- I looked at my Emporio Armani watch. It's been almost twenty hours since I haven't heard my parents shouting and that's really rare, I feel better when I'm far from them. Their fights give me headaches.

I rubbed my arms as the sun started to set and the moon slowly took over, hence it started getting colder.

I sat in my car and drove home. Azaan's home.

Actually, that feels more like my home than my real home. I like how cozy Azaan's be-... Our bed is.

Soon, I reached home and went upstairs to my room. I opened the door and Azaan turned his revolving chair to look at me.

"Where were you?"

Ugh, I'm not a baby, it's 7:30pm, I ain't that late. "Somewhere."

"Sawera, where. were. you?" He asked sharply punctuating on every word.

I placed the keys on the sidetable and sat on the bed, facing him. "Starbucks."

"You didn't need to go anywhere, you could have-"

"-told someone to make you coffee blah blah blah. I knew you'd say this. I wanted to stroll around the city."

"In this cold? In these thin clothes? Without a jacket?" He asked. "You should inform someone before leaving the house."

"I'm not a kid, Azaan." I huffed.

"But you left in anger Sawera, I got worried." He softly said.

I looked at him. Ow.

"Please inform someone before leaving the house." He politely asked, his hazel eyes meeting my dark brown orbs.

Uh, I... "Ow-key..."

He kept looking in my eyes, still worried, then turned around and continued working.

I looked around. That was weird.

I sat leaning on the backseat and pulled up my blanket, I picked up my phone to see three missed calls from an unknown number. I called back and jumped when a phone nearby rang. Azaan...? He looked at the screen then looked at me.

"Sorry I didn't have that saved." I quickly cut the call.

He turned his focus back on his work. I pulled down my pillow and lied down.

I kept wondering how I ended up in all this. A month ago, no one knew I'd be married today, this was fast. Very fast. And I understand why it was fast, papa didn't give me time to pounder the burden of marriage, he knew if he gave me time I'd think too much and end up saying no.

"Are you still upset about what happened on the dining table?" He asked out of nowhere, his back facing me.

"Nope." That's too dumb for me to think about it.

"Then how are you silent?" He asked.

I sighed and sat up. "I actually don't know. I..." I remembered that he wasn't interested in knowing me.

"Hm? You what?" He asked, gently.

I got up and went outside. I don't know why he asked that. I was walking downstairs when Palwasha stopped me. "Aapi, I know that was my mistake, I'm sorry." She sobbed.

"Hey, why are you crying?" I clutched her hands to my chest and softly spoke, "It wasn't such a big deal, it's okay."

"Are you upset?" She looked in my eyes with tears in hers.

"No, I'm not." I assured her.

She smiled, still unsure if I had forgiven her.

"Stop crying, go get some ice cream for both of us, let's do some nanad-bhabhi talk," I smiled with anticipation, "and some gossip," I whispered. "I'll be in your room in 5."

I went to my room to get my phone and saw Azaan talking on the phone. "Bye Kylie."

"Eh, what's the difference between a secretary and a personal assistant?" I asked right after he put down the phone.

He ignored me.

"I'm talking to you, Azaan."

"You walked out in the middle of the conversation." He reminded me.

"Azaan!" I whined. "Stop being a baby, what's the difference between a secretary and a personal assistant?"

"Google it."

"You're so fucking rude," I threw a hissy fit.

He turned around and looked in my eyes fiercely.

"I searched it on google and it said that these words were interchangeable."

"Mind your language, Sawera."

"Why do you call that fucking Kylie by her name?" I asked. "You used to call me using my last name."

He turned around and ignored me.

He's the only person I'm okay-ish with in this house, and he ignores me.

I tried to hold my tears inside but I felt lonely. "I knew you guys had an affair, I know why you married me." I sobbed before picking up my phone and going out of the room.

I sat in the middle of the bifurcated stairway and cried for a while, then realised I wasn't in love with Azaan, wiped my tears, smiled and went to Palwasha's room. This house is no lesser than a maze.

I knocked on her room and entered. "Hi, did you call bhabhi? Let's call her too." I suggested.

"Yea, she's coming." There was a guilt in her smile.

"Yaar Palwasha it wasn't a big deal, I had forgotten about it. Stop reminding me about it again and again or I'll really get upset with you." I warned her.

Bhabhi came in after knocking and we all sat on the bed, our legs folded and all of us facing each other.

"Okay, this is going to be fun." Bhabhi started.

~~~

We had a really nice night and wanted to have a sleepover but bhabhi rejected the idea, saying she had some important work to do so we postponed that.

I didn't want to go to my room, face that cheater... But I had no alternative. I opened the door of our room, went upstairs, picked my black silk nightgown, went to the washroom to change, walked to my side of the bed and lied down pulling the blanket and facing the other side. All this time portraying an impassive facial expression.

I had seen from the corner of my eyes that he was sitting on the bed, leaning on the bedrest with a book in his hand, looking at all my actions but I ignored that just the way he ignored me earlier in the afternoon.

Silence. Dead silence.

He kept reading his book, I guess.

He turned off the bedside table lamps and lied down.

More silence.

What is this? Does he not care that I'm angry with him?

I waited for a little more.

Okay, that's all the patience I had.

I rolled around. "What's your problem. At least lie about cheating on me, you can still cover it, I don't know much about Kylie."

Silence.

"Okay, fuck you." I lifted the duvet and was about to leave when he grabbed my wrist.

"What do you want?"

"An explanation, over this Kylie matter. Who is she?" I asked.

He turned on the lamps.

"My secretary."

"She told me she was your PERSONAL assistant." I stressed on 'personal'.

"It's the same."

I sat up and folded my legs, facing him. "She called me dumb for not knowing the difference between these two words, what the fuck?"

"Mind your language or I'm not talking to you." He got angry.

I sighed holding my head in my hands. How hard is telling him that I want freedom?

It hadn't even been two days and I was tired of this. "I don't like this feeling, of being married."

Silence.

"Sawera," he softly called me and took my slender hands —which still had a really dark shade of henna painted— in his firm yet gentle grip.

I looked up, he was looking in my eyes with some kind of hope. My heart thumped against my chest but I kept looking at him, taking a quick glance of his facial structure; noticing how nicely his dark black hair was still settled at this time of the night, his perfectly shaped hazel eyes, those thick and long eyelashes, a straight nose, beautiful lips, that 5 o'clock shadow above his perfect jawline and slender neck. I kept tracing down to his Adam's apple, his well-defined muscles and stopped before he caught me checking him out.

I hadn't stared at him this closely, I hadn't noticed his features... Damn I've won the jackpot. He was probably the hottest guy I had ever seen.

I looked in his eyes, amused.

"You should give it a chance." He nodded at me, and I reluctantly -like an idiot- nodded back, still lost in his features. "It's okay, we just got married, don't lose hope too soon. I know you didn't want this but we're going through it together, it's going to be okay."

My heartbeat was audible to my ears.

There was something that made me feel comfortable under his gaze. I could trust him. I knew he wasn't like those mean guys in college.

I should probably stop being annoying.

"I'm sorry." I apologised.

"See," he started, "Kylie and I WERE friends in college but you know I don't mix my personal and professional lives so I never treated her like a friend in the office. I don't use her last name because it's way too long and calling a secretary by her last name isn't compulsory." He gave an explanation in his deep manly voice.

"Or maybe you are used to calling her like that." I frowned and looked at his t-shirt, not wanting to make eye contact.

"Tsk, why are you jealous?" He smirked.

"Why can't I be jealous? Ain't I your wife? Oh damn I sound so old using these words..." I paused, getting shocked by my own words. "Who'd believe that I'm just twenty-one? What do you think of when someone talks about being a wife? The first image that comes to your mind is of a woman in her late forties, right? Ugh, I should have waited."

He chuckled. "It's 11pm, go to sleep." He turned around, turned off the lights and went to sleep.

"Do you like me though? You never told me why you gave your consent... Damn Azaan, it was our first night, you didn't even ask about my boyfriends or anything."

He smiled, closing his eyes.

"Hey, I'm not- Ah, no, that's too personal... We aren't that close... Remind me after a few weeks that I got to tell you something, okay?" I asked.

He had his eyes closed.

"Are you sleeping? I'm not sleepy at all, I woke up in the afternoon. Ugh, please don't go to sleep."

"Sawera," he had a groggy voice, "shut up and sleep."

I turned to the other side.

I never wanted a boy in my life but if I ever got myself one, he would be talkative. Azaan is boring and for sure we can't stay together for a long time. He's going to stop wanting me when he gets tired of my TEDx talks. I think that's a good thing.

"Why do you work so much? All you have to do is sign contracts, sign checks, go to meetings, hire and fire people, um... idk, you shouldn't be working that much."

I looked behind to see him fast asleep.

I scrolled on Instagram till I felt sleepy.

~~~

I woke up to see Azaan going to the washroom from the gym room, wiping his sweat. Damn those abs.

That's sexy.

I closed my eyes pretending to be asleep but pulled out my phone just as he closed the washroom's door.

WhatsApp: Hum Awaara

Sawera: Damn y'all I never noticed but he's fucking hot.

I quickly texted my friends, sitting up on the bed.

Ramsha: Yesss! Tell us about your first night.

Samia: I noticed that on the first day but ok.

I squinted my eyes.

Sawera: Hey, stop putting your evil eyes on my husband.

Samia: Someone's possessive... 😏🤪

I giggled.

Ramsha: Are you going to tell us about your first night or not?

Urghhh.

Sawera: Shut up dumbass, nothing happened.

Ramsha: Hey, come on. You can share it with us.

Why is everyone so annoying with this one damn question?

Azaan got out of the washroom wearing his formal clothing. I got up, chose my ootd and took a shower.

After a while, I heard a knock on the door and turned off the water. "Huh?"

"Ramsha's calling." Azaan told me.

"Pick it up." I spoke too quick and instantly smacked my head. Shit. She better not ask anything to HIM.

"Hello?" He asked on the phone as he walked away, I heard his footsteps' sound slowly diminishing.

Shit, shit, shit.

I quickly washed myself and got out wearing a bathrobe.

"No, she's beautiful." Azaan told her, the phone was put on speaker.

"And what about me?" Ramsha asked. IS SHE ASKING HIM ABOUT HER PHYSICAL APPEARANCE? Damn this bitch.

"You're nice too but you are a little late." He frowned, putting some files in his bag.

"And what if one of us came earlier in your life?" Samia asked. "Who would you choose?"

They are on conference!

"I don't know, but most definitely not Sawera."

They giggled.

I walked in and cut the call, he turned around to look at me and smiled widely. I turned off my phone and went back to the washroom to finish my stuff.

Bastard.

I blow-dried my hair and went outside. He was working on his laptop, I walked to the vanity table and put on some perfume.

He walked behind me, brushed my hair aside, put his hands on my waist and further, his chin above my shoulder. "We were just kidding, Sawera." He looked at my reflection in the mirror.

Something about last night made me feel and think good about him. He gave me those tingly sensations that I read about on Wattpad.

"I'm sorry?" He asked furrowing his eyebrows, guilty. I pulled my hand to my hair and pushed some strands behind my ears as he bored his eyes in my reflection.

"Uh, it's okay." I spoke hesitantly.

He kept looking in my eyes for a while. "Do you want to go out on dinner?" He asked, remorseful.

"A date?" My eyes lightened up as I turned around to look him in the eyes and put my hands on his chest.

He smiled. "Kind of."

"Where?"

"Where do you want to?"

"I don't know, but somewhere where I can eat some spicy and delicious biryaani. I'm not compromising with that." I clearly told him.

"Okay, be ready at seven o'clock." He beamed.

Azaan's phone rang and I looked down. He stepped back and took his phone out of his pocket. He looked at me worried, then moved to a corner excusing himself.

I ignored that and combed my hair in a braid.

Oh, I have to ask Azaan if I can go to Neeti's apartment.

I turned around, "Sawera, it's your father." He told me.

I groaned in despair, taking the phone from his hand, he gestured me that he's going downstairs. "You know it's been a good day without your and mama's shouting."

"Waleikumassalam." Papa taunted.

Yeah whatever. "Assalamualeikum."

"How are you?" He asked.

"Happy." Saying that reminded me of my wedding day, when he asked if I was happy.

"MashaAllah, how's everything and everyone?" He asked. I don't remember the last time he talked to me in such a soft voice.

It melted me. "Everyone's fine, how are you?"

"I'm fine too, how's Azaan? Is he a nice husband? I hope you haven't created or faced any trouble there."

"Yes, he's okay and I don't create troubles." I wailed. "How's mama?"

"She's fine. Are you really happy there? I'm starting to doubt my choice, after all your mom was my choic-"

"-Ugh please don't start again." My eyes all of a sudden started watering, "I'm tired. I'm really tired." He doesn't understand that these words hurt. I cut the call.

I picked up a tissue and dabbed my eyes' outline with it before going downstairs.

I gave Azaan's phone to him and had breakfast in silence with everyone. Azaan noticed me sitting silently and asked, "Are you fine?"

I nodded.

He got up and went to office. I excused myself and went to my room.

I turned on the TV and played Hum Tv. I kept watching it for a while.

Ugh, I didn't ask him if I could go to Neeti.

I called him.

He picked up and asked me if it was anything urgent, I responded in negative, he told me to wait and covered the microphone.

I listened closely to his barely audible voice. "No, leave. You're fired." He paused. "I said; you. are. fired. Don't force me to call the security. You're FUCKING fired don't you get it!?" I flinched at his voice and cut the call.

Damn. I hadn't seen him angry before.

I postponed the plan of going to Neeti's house. He called me, I wondered if I should pick up his phone or not, what if he gets angry on me for calling him for such a petty question? What if he gets worried like the other day?

I breathed in and picked up. "Assalamualeikum," I acted like a decent girl.

"Waleikumassalaam, why'd you call?" He asked in a cold, impassive tone of voice.

"Um, nothing important."

"Tsk, please Sawera. I'm in the office." He sulked.

"I'm sorry." I quickly cut the call.

I hope the person he fired was Kylie, lmao.

~~~

I changed into an elegant dusty pink tulle long sleeved gown with silver design on the top part and a slightly darker lace separating the top from the flared simple bottom. I wore silver pumps, sat on the vanity table and did a light makeup.

"Sajna hai mujjhe sajna ke liye-" Ew that's cheesy.

I searched for a good playlist.

I put on a mini nose pin, which would be almost invisible if there wasn't a cute teensy diamond on it.

I got up and looked at it. I loved how the diamond was so tiny but still shined when I moved around.

My phone rang, Azaan.

Oh shit. "I'm coming down in 5." I quickly cut the call

I hurried to turn my open hair into a cute loose chignon, letting a few strands out.

I looked at myself and posed in front of the mirror. If I weren't married, I'd be a model.

I quickly put my phone in my pink and silver clutch purse and ran downstairs.

I saw Azaan waiting for me, his eyes met mine, I stopped walking to him and beamed. He checked me out from top to bottom and opened the backseat's door.

Oh don't tell me we're going out with a driver. My smile disappeared. I walked to the car with a frown and sat in.

He came to sit in from the other side. I looked down at my hands. I wanted this to be a real date, just him and me.

I don't want to go anymore.

"Why do you look upset?" He brushed his knuckles across my cheek.

Because you are an 'independent' man who relies on his servants for every single thing except for breathing.

"You look stunning." He stated, looking in my eyes.

Did he think I was upset because he didn't compliment me? Aww, cuteee.

"I'm sorry I got too blank after seeing you." He added.

I like this. "It's okay." I smiled.

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