With Love

Chapter 27: the past and the present

Asad's POV

I was running late. I was running so late and all because of her.

Every time I thought I was finally doing well, moving on from what used to be, she appeared before me again and I realized I was back in square one.

I would be lying if I said that I still felt that weird giddiness when I caught a glimpse of her anywhere near me. I neither found myself looking for her on my own, nor did I ever close my eyes to bask in her sickeningly sweet scent whenever she was in my vicinity.

What I still did feel was the sting of her words, of her changing face when I hit rock bottom. The memories still burned through my skin upon remembering the way I lost touch with her hand that distasteful evening, when she told me I wasn't the Asad she used to know.

The moment I saw her walking purposefully through the park near my house, I knew the right thing to do was turn the other way. The right thing to do was avoid her, not to move toward her.

My heart sunk when she turned around and looked absolutely fine. Still as beautiful as ever, still wonderfully happy and well.

I was miserable.

Some traces of that misery should have been scattered across her face too. Because falling out of love didn't mean forgetting right? We loved each other. She loved me. She said so.

Some part of our parting should have brought tears to her eyes too, should have sunken her heart at my sight too. Some of that experience should have been heavy to carry for her too.

But nothing had changed for her it seemed. Her hair was still curled at the ends, cascading down her shoulders with full intention and caution. Her smile was light and carefree, unmarked by tragedy or sorrow.

The more I walked toward her enraptured, the more it hurt, the more it made me angry. Some evil little part of me wanted to mar her somehow. I wanted her to hurt like I was hurting. But whether I threw a rock at her or shook her, or yelled at her, it would only show physically.

Emotionally, she was far from fazed by whatever had happened between us.

Everything I thought I felt, everything I thought I saw in her eyes back then were all lies. None of it was real, or even close.

Then why was I still so hung up on her? She didn't care. I mustn't either.

I should not be walking toward her. I should not be wanting to talk to her. I had to bury all the questions and all the rage within me, because letting it out would only agonize me and not her.

So, even though I knew she'd seen me, that she had turned my way to approach me, I turned away from her. This time I was the one to turn my back on her, and a small little part of me was satisfied by the action. I hoped she had a horrible day ahead.

____

"Yaar Asad, itni dair?!" Jamal complained as soon as he saw me rushing in through the double doors of the venue.

It'd been so long since I last hung out or even talked with any of my friends, it was now a bit awkward to see them again. I didn't want to linger by the door with some idle chatter, or pity talk or catch-ups I had no energy to hear about or share.

Especially not after that encounter with her in the morning.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. Bss agaya ab mein. Let's go." (I'm here now)

I opened the buttons of my blazer, loosened the tie a little and took a deep breath before finally walking into the large hall.

It was decorated white and golden everywhere, from the flowers to the chandeliers to the chairs and tables. The stage where Rehan sat with Nouman and Latif was the only place that had other colours like the red roses and their green leaves.