Love isn't always butterflies and pounding hearts. Love can also lie, deceive and betray.
Her way of seeing the world was a lot different from his. She was broken with open wounds, standing high on her throne and giving no damn to the world. A stron...
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Ayat sat afar with her almond milk coffee, taken aback by the family as they bonded over the cookies bibi jaan packed for them. Her body begging for rest, for she had only slept for three hours in twenty six hours. She watched them tiredly as they ran around the house, chasing each other and yelling at each other. While she expected a twist in her gut, it made her smile faintly- only faintly to see the grown up adults becoming children in the presence of family. She didn't get that. She didn't get to live her childhood and teenage years.
The drink felt like a blessing after having to drink tea and black coffee for years. The drink warmed her throat as it made its way into her stomach, leaving her feeling alive. The youngest cousin jumped on the sofa, holding her hand up and saving the last of crumbled cookies from her sister. A laugh erupting out of her father's twin- a truth that she got to know from her chacha about her father. Ismael Wajdani was Ibrahim Wajdani's twin. He had told her to not hesitate and call him chacha jaan but how would she bring herself to do it when all that she was brought up with were nothing but lies.
"Faryal, be careful." Huzaifa groaned as he walked past them, his eyes almost bulging out. Ayat looked at her first cousin as though he was something that could break in a second, except he was already broken. He yawned a few times as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get his day started with a cup of coffee.
"Why are you sitting alone?" Was the first thing he asked when his gaze settled on the woman in baby pink lawn suit.
"Families don't look good to me." She breathed out. After Fayd, Huzaifa was the one she thought she could talk to, given she related herself to him in many ways. He chuckled, agreeing to her.
"You look horrible, didn't you sleep well?" His eyes shot up at her, her question intriguing.
He gesticulated towards the laptop that sat half-closed on the dining table- the one that he brought when he emerged from his room, "I'll have to take two weeks break for Salaar's wedding so yeah, work. What's with you?" He said, grabbing a mug from the shelf and helping himself in making a cup of coffee.
"Couldn't sleep. New place." She didn't say more, averting her attention to the people in the living hall. The roar of the coffee machine caught her off guard as she flinched and looked back at what Huzaifa was doing.
"How old is your daughter?" A question so unwanted left her. His eyes, that examined the slow dripping of the beverage, turned to her.
"Bas nanhi si jaan hai woh ek," He smiled- he smiled an aloof one and she could filter an ample of sadness from his tone. He yearned- Huzaifa longed for his daughter's love who was taken away by his ex wife to another country. Video calling his daughter occasionally kept him in the brink of life- not entirely robbing it off from him. The divorce was their goddamn problem to deal with but that little soul had to go through so much, "Hoorain's mother promised ammi to bring her to Salaar's wedding though so I'm hoping to spend as much time as I can with my daughter." He said, a smile glittering over his grief.
