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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She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Donned in a golden zardosi suit, she looked ethereal. Gone was the woman who always dressed in lawn suits or blazers, this was the woman men worshiped. She wore her curled hair with paasa sitting firmly on the side of her head. A huge pair of jhumka dancing on her earlobes. She stared at the woman that dressed for the wedding and the woman that stared back at her was not her. This was the woman who was once someone's bride. This was the woman that prepared for her wedding that got pushed to indefinite years. This was the woman that had to see her groom die in an accident. This was the fateful woman every tale talked about.
She insufflated lungful of air as she skimmed through her features that drew a new image of her in her mind. She hadn't seen herself dressed like that in years. She hadn't seen herself adorned by jewelry in years and all that she ever wore were studs, a ring and at times a platinum locket. It was as though she had gone through a portal and brought along a lookalike. She stared and kept staring until a knock on the door snapped her back to reality.
"Aapi?" Faryal's faint call floated in the air as she pushed open the door a little to see if Ayat was still there.
Struggling with a tray of food, the youngest walked inside the room with a smile on her face, pinching Ayat's heart every time she looked at her. She was rude. She was unnecessarily curt to the little that only ever smiled at her whenever their gaze met. And in over three days, Ayat had warmed up around Faryal, Huzaifa and chachi jaan while the other three siblings kept their distance from her, "I brought you lunch."
Her stomach grumbled at the sight of food much to her help. Ayat shook her head as she sprinted to Faryal and took the tray from her, tearing a morsel and enjoying the burst of flavors, "Yeh sahi kardo." Ayat raised her left hand where the bracelet was. The bracelet that Fayd gave to her.
That day when he hooked it around her wrist and after he walked away, the bracelet felt heavy and shackling on her hand so much that she didn't waste a second before ripping it off from her hands. No way could she carry remembrance of two men in her heart and on her body. But a part of her begged to her to adorn it on her wrist, to let the world know of its beauty.
"Such a beauty." It is. Ayat could only smile at the girl, her gaze wavering down to the diamonds encrusted on her initial. The American touch was very much there and his touch was very there. Once Fayd walked out on her, she was left alone gazing at the piece of jewelry he left with her. Her body slowly beginning to shiver as though the grazing of the bracelet was scalding her skin. He left some of himself with her that day.
"I know." She tore another bite and pushed it down her throat since everyone had started to gather for the ritual. She was having a late lunch– a lunch so late that the guests had begun to show up.
"Where were you in the morning? Ammi had Farhan bhai to take you to a mehndi parlor. She said it'll look so beautiful on you." Faryal probed, helping her with the food.
