Dur-e-Shehwar | Completed ✔️

XIII

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Chapter XIII

'Where were you?! You won't go back right? I've missed you!' his mother held his arm shaking it as Ozhan stood staring at his uncle who just came back after seeing the guests to the gate.

His father had his fingers massaging his forehead on the sofa a few feet away from Ozhan. Only he knew his son would come home one or two times every week. He never asked him or tried to confront him, though. Nor was he surprised to hear his son tonight. He didn't have to, because he knew what Ozhan was upto the night he heard him talking to Shehwar outside her room.

Now he understood what his son meant whenever he talked about not wanting to marry. He just didn't want the girl to be Mehar rather her step sister.

'Mumma,' he removed her hands gently before encircling his arms around her. 'I won't.'

'Promise?' she sniffled.

He hesitated before sighing and tightening his arms more around her small frame.

'Maham sister, step back and have a seat, please.' his uncle said while his aunt staggered back to a sofa taking a seat beside her husband.

Maham hesitantly let go of her son and they both sat in front of Ozhan's uncle, before taking Ozhan's hand in her own and in her lap.

'Brother, can I inquire Ozhan and his intentions?' Bashir asked his brother who waved his hand away, his head supported by his other hand with it's elbow rested on his knee.

'Now would you explain the meaning of this? What did you say to them back in drawing room, were you in your right mind? Would you repeat it again?'

'I want to marry Dur-e-Shehwar,' a squeak, a gasp, and a smack to the forehead was heard from Nadir, Mehar, and Zareen respectively.

The seated personas turned to look at them. All of the children, who stood at the end of the staircase, wore horror stricken expressions on their faces.

'Go back upstairs. All of you, except Dur-e-Shehwar.' her father said.

She ducked her head gnawing at her lip as she made her way to them and sat on a chair with a small glass table at her side. The other three went back up.

Bashir, facing an inner conflict masked his face into an emotionless façade and asked Ozhan. 'When did you start getting high?'

'I'm in my right senses. I do want to marry her and I promise you uncle she won't face -'

'You crackhead -' her father stopped her outburst with a raise of his hand and motioned for Ozhan to continue.

His eyes flicked to a fuming Shehwar who hrumped and fisted her hands at her sides.

'I'll make her happy. She won't ever be uneasy or face anything I'll make sure of it-'

'Life isn't that way kid, don't promise.' Bashir interrupted Ozhan's dialogue spilling who said them as if he had just come out of a theatre and was still under the influence of some romantic play.

He knew his tone was hard and he wanted it to be that way. He was the father of two daughters who were dragged in this mess. He had the right to be mad.