Chandni

CHAPTER – 4

The next day she woke up quite early, earlier than Hamza, in fact, which was rarer than catching a sight of the Halley’s comet in one’s lifetime. She felt exhaustion weighing down on her and she could barely keep her eyes open without them stinging, but the sleep she so clearly needed had already vanished into thin air.

The sun had barely risen, more orange that the usual yellow, and the sky had only just started to brighten. In an hour or two, Hamza would be waking up.

Yalina sat up in bed and blinked blearily. A yawn escaped her and she did not even have the energy to stifle it. She turned her head around and caught a glimpse of Hamza lost in dreamland.

She felt a pout forming on her face out of sheer envy and unfairness of it all. She turned her gaze towards the window and observed the tranquil world outside, its serenity yet to be broken by the clamour of the city still asleep.

Her heart felt a little lighter. She had at least figured out what she wanted to do, even if it wasn’t the how. She wanted to build a better – happier – future with this man.

She turned around to face him and placed a tiny, feather-light kiss on his nose before crawling out of bed.

She wanted to let him know that she chose him. That she wanted to stay and weather all the storms together with him. However, she could not use her words to properly declare her unwavering devotion to him right now, no. Besides, habits were hard to change suddenly. After 7 years of distance, she found it tough to act like her youthful, lovesick self.

Instead, she opted for acts of service.

She quickly stepped into the kitchen after freshening up. Though her cooking wasn’t anything to write home to, certainly nowhere near Hamza’s but it was good enough. Well, enough to make sure that no one starved to death.

Hamza had always insisted that cooking was a relaxing activity, but she begged to differ. Being covered in flour, with one hand stuck in the still too dry dough, and the other struggling to reach the glass of water, while the stupid daal on the stove was starting to dry up, was not her idea of a ‘relaxing’ experience.

She wondered if it was because his average everyday activity was espionage. It probably really lowered one’s standards, right? Even her 12 hours of labour was not this bad. At least she had epidural, oh and her husband’s poor little hand to torment with her bruising grip.

She truly did not appreciate Hamza enough, if this was what he had to do every day until they finally had enough money to hire a personal chef.

Then when she finally managed to brush her fingers against the glass, it fell off the counter. Of course. To make matters worse, she heard footsteps and watched with dismay as Hamza peeked inside, squinting, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Why!” she finally wailed out, unable to hold herself back anymore. “Just- just go back, okay? You saw nothing!”

He raised an eyebrow before stepping in to pick up the glass from the floor. He glanced around the messy kitchen in amusement before speaking. “Itni subah subah yeh kya kar rhi ho?”

Yalina shot a scathing glare in his direction. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself genius?”

She watched his shoulders shake in laughter.

“You-” She gasped in offence “don’t you dare laugh!”

Hamza threw up his arms in the air in mock surrender as he straightened his face. “I meant why are you in the kitchen? I’m still alive, no?”

She froze. The words hung there, harmless to anyone else. She swallowed and forced herself to roll her eyes. She didn’t deign to give him any other reply and went back to focusing on kneading the dough. He approached her and observed the half-cooked food from over her shoulder as his fingers tapped on the glass in a steady rhythm.

“Kis khushi mein, hm?” He asked as he leaned against the counter.

“Why? Am I only allowed to cook on a special occasion? Sorry to disappoint you, but my skills aren’t good enough for that.” She huffed while trying to blow a stray lock off her face.

“The more you punch that dough, the less it will turn out the way you want.” He chuckled as he tucked the strand behind her ear. “You need to roll it in, like this.” He gently pulled the bowl out of her grasp and started to work on it.

“Well there goes my plans.” She grumbled and leaned against the counter in defeat, eyeing the dough, which had slowly started to shape up under his ministrations, with displeasure.

“What plans?”

Yalina shook her head and turned her attention towards stirring the simmering daal on the stove. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” He answered in a helpless tone. “Ab batao toh sahi.”

“I just wanted to cook breakfast! That’s all!”

“That’s the thing though, you don’t usually-”

Yalina placed the steel spatula onto the counter loudly and turned around to face Hamza warily eyeing her. “Why are you acting as if I’m not even allowed to enter the kitchen?”

“I didn’t say tha-”

“No! let me finish!” She said while jabbing a finger in his chest. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, and get some practice maybe before we get married, except it didn’t work out the way I wanted and I am already so frustrated that I needed your help even though I wanted to surprise you and maybe impress you and you- you’re not helping with your interrogation!” She finished as she blew the stray lock off her face that had managed to slip out in the middle of her tirade.

“Married.” Hamza stared at her, incredulous.

“That’s all you got out of it?” Yalina asked him, exasperated.

“You said you were going to think it over,” he demanded, a hard edge to his voice.

“What?”

She saw him shut his eyes and clench his jaw before he answered. “About staying. With me.”

She blinked twice, her mouth opening and closing as Hamza kept staring at her intensely. “I know.”

“So?”

“What so? I’ve already made my decision. Good god Hamza, why are you reacting so intensely, you scared me half to death.”

“Made your decision.” He repeated in disbelief. “In what, 6 hours?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.”

Hamza threw his hands up in the air before using his clean hand to rub in face. “Yalina, for god’s sake, can you just please take this seriously?”

“Its rather insulting for you to assume that I haven’t.” She answered coolly.

“And you chose,” he gestured wildly at the room. “this.”

Yalina crossed her arms defensively across her chest and replied aghast. “Obviously! What did you- did you just think that I was just going to leave?”

 “Yes!” He answered with a sharp exhale. “Like any sane person would.”

“Are you calling me insane?”

“No! And stop twisting my words into something else!”

“Well guess what, you were wrong buddy!” She stepped forward and jabbed a finger in his chest harshly. He looked down at her with visible frustration but made no attempt to stop her. “And frankly, I’m very offended that you thought I was going to just abandon you the second I faced a little bit hardship. I’m not a little girl okay hamza? You think I don’t know what a gangster does? You think I don’t know who Rehman Dakait is? I know everything and I still chose to pursue this-” she jabbed again “relationship between us!”

“A little bit of hardship? Yalina,” Hamza groaned “you getting stuck in the middle of a shooting is not a ‘little bit of hardship’ okay? You- you could’ve died!”

He stepped back after saying that, his back hitting the tiled wall of the cramped kitchen. They were both breathing harshly, and Yalina felt her lower lip tremble before she turned her head to the side to stare at the rickety old wooden cabinet.

“You don’t belong here.” He said softly. “You, don’t deserve this.”

Yalina shut her eyes, dejected.

Why was he telling her this? Why now? He had never said this to her in her previous life. Certainly not after the truth had been revealed.

“Why-” She paused to clear her throat and turned her head around to face him. “why are you so intent on trying to get rid of me? You’re the one who pursued me first!”

“We’re not on the same page right now. You’re not understanding what I’m trying to say.”

“Well I don’t care!” She finally sobbed out. “I don’t care if the right decision is leaving you and living my best life. I don’t care if its stupid to stay with you after everything! I don’t want to make logical decisions! I want to make the decisions which feel right to me because they follow my heart!”

She bent her head down and pressed her palms to her eyes as she exhaled harshly.

He stood there, staring at her, something raw and unguarded flickering across his face, before speaking again.

“But you’re not happy.”

Her head snapped up. “What? What do you mean?”

“You think I haven’t seen it?” He demanded before softening his voice and stepping forward.

“This whole week you’ve been crying secretly. Not to mention that unexplainable outburst earlier this week. I can’t just watch that happen and not say something. I won’t-” He paused as he shut his eyes briefly. “I shouldn’t let you do something that’s making you unhappy. You’re still so young, barely in college. You’ll find another boyfriend, someone who can give you what I can’t, and It’s my job to let you know that.”

Somehow, this is the most he had spoken since she last remembered. Even after waking up here, he had been sombre and silent, always staring silently or writing in his diary when at home. She had forgotten that during the earlier years, before everything, he was a lot more unrestrained, and he didn’t just silently listen as she tried to fill up the silences, but rather actively contributed.

Yalina had been so caught up within herself, her emotional turmoil that she had failed to notice his.

“That wasn’t because of you.” Well technically that was true, she was crying over the previous life’s Hamza, and the life she had built with him, not the current one standing in front of her.

Before he could speak, she cut him off quickly. “I was crying over my parents.”

“Your parents?”

Yalina nodded. “I…had called my mother, asking her to convince dad to say yes – stupid, I know but a girl can hope right? And well, let’s just say that it hadn’t ended well.”

“Say yes to what?” He walked towards the stove and turned the gas off.

“Well, he’s been trying to bring me back home but obviously I haven’t and so he stopped sending me any money, so I just wanted to convince him to start again.”

There. A perfectly plausible explanation. She was grateful that her skills at lying were still as good as it was in her youth.

“You could’ve just asked me. Why go through all of this, you know what your mother’s like.”

“No I couldn’t.”

Hamza turned towards her with a narrowed gaze. “Why not?”

“Stop asking me so many questions!”

“I will once you answer me.” She had forgotten how stubborn he could get once he put his mind on something.

“It’s,” She took in a deep breath, her mind racing, “for your birthday!” she blurted out. “I wanted to buy you a gift and needed some money, because obviously I couldn’t just buy you a gift using your own money!”

Hamza raised a hand and scratched his brow, before sighing deeply. “I’d rather you not buy me a gift if it means begging your parents and having your feelings get hurt for it.”

“Alright.” She nodded as she looked down to smoothen down the wrinkles on her dress.

He stared at her with a complex and thoughtful gaze before returning to the half-done dough. She chose to busy herself with preparing the tadka for the daal while he finished kneading.

“Can you cook the rotis while I roll them?” He asked, tearing a piece and rolling it between his palms.

“Hm, rotis? They’re supposed to be parathas. There’s aloo in there,” She answered with a hum, stirring the daal after pouring the tadka

He froze and slowly turned to face her. “…What do you mean?”

She gestured at the bowl. “I boiled some potatoes and mashed them into the dough.”

“But-” he stared down, aghast. “That’s not how you-” He paused and took a deep breath. Then, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the kitchen. “You’re never entering the kitchen ever again, for as long as I am here at least.”

“What? Hamza, that’s ridiculous! I just took a shortcut instead of preparing the stuffing separately!” She tried to grab onto the counter but he gently pried her hand off and dragged her out.

“No,” He answered solemnly. “what you’ve done is criminal. You didn’t even add in the seasonings.” He whispered in disbelief near the end. “I didn’t know we were getting colonized again.”

“That’s your fault! I forgot because I was too busy arguing with you!”

“Let’s just reheat the leftover rice and have that with the daal instead. Also, who even prepares daal with aloo ke paranthe Yalina?”

Yalina shoved him spitefully. “It’s a perfectly respectable combination!” She yelled after him before heading to wash her hands. “You’re not being very grateful!”

Two months later, Yalina was flipping through a novel in boredom when she heard the door open.

Hamza walked in with a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. Catching sight of her, he shot her a small smile before he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He settled on a chair, switching on a news channel. Yalina eyed him silently before putting the book aside and headed to kitchen. It wasn't an everyday occurrence for Hamza to look so visibly happy after all.

“Chai bana ke doon ki sirf paani?” She asked, pausing near the doorway.

“Chai,” He replied, slowly leaning forward and flipping open his diary. She quickly averted her gaze and entered while grumbling inside. Really, wasn’t he being a little too lax around her? She did not know if she should feel insulted or happy about the fact that he acted so freely around her.

Insulted definitely, she was pretty sure she hasn’t yet managed to shake off the naïve girl persona she has in his mind; She thought mournfully.

She heard the crackled noise of static of the old television accompany the clear voice of the news anchor as she poured the tea into the cup through a strainer.

“according to the political analysts, Rehman Dakait entering the fray raises serious doubts about Jameel Jamali’s future…”

A tiny snort escaped her as she brought the teacup to Hamza, who quickly shut his diary before turning his gaze onto her. Right after she placed the cup on the table, he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap. “Tumhare abbu ke itne bure haalat dekh tumhe bohot hasi aa rhi hai?” He asked with a lazy smile.

“You don’t look any less happy either.” She challenged with a sly smile before turning towards the news broadcast.

She remembered her words from a different lifetime, bade ghaple kiye hai unhone, saza toh milegi hi. She knew now of course that her father’s fate wasn’t truly as downtrodden as everyone else was thinking. Within a few months, the same people who were switching sides right now, would be crawling back to him.

“You’re not worried?” She heard him ask.

She turned her head to look down on him. Should she repeat the same words as her previous life? After all, staying silent would be too suspicious.

“Why should I be? It’s not like his actions affect me anymore.” She replied instead as her fingers toyed with a lock of his hair.

He hummed in reply, his fingers tapping rhythmically on her waist before he spoke again. “Ek kaam karo. Kal chai pe bulao unhe.”

Although she had expected it, she was still surprised. There must be a reason why in both lifetimes, Hamza invited him over for marriage talks around this time. She knew better than to wait for him to tell her though. No, she would have to find out on her own. 

“Kyu?” She tried asking, despite knowing that she won’t truly get an answer.

“It’s a surprise.” Was all he said before taking a sip of the tea.

Though having expected it, she still couldn’t stop herself from harshly tugging at the lock intertwined between her fingers.

At least the tiny groan did its job at soothing her heart. She turned her gaze back to the news anchor, still discussing the ramifications of People's Party allying with the newly formed PAC and felt her heart grow heavy. She had a feeling that him calling her father over right at this time was not simply to convince him to say yes to them getting married. 

The next morning, she woke up early alongside Hamza. The phone call last night had been short, but pleasant, though even the fact that she was able to talk to her father after a long time had done nothing to alleviate her suspicions.

Her father was supposed to come over within a few hours, around brunch time, and she had taken her time to get everything ready. Though she knew what the outcome was, she still couldn’t help but feel nervous. Even though almost nothing out of the ordinary had happened so far, she was still worried that major changes might just start happening soon. And what better way to torment her than to try to ruin the wedding? She decided to leave Hamza to his own devices and focused on making the sitting area as presentable as possible. Keeping her hands busy at least kept her thoughts from drifting too much.

She had been busy setting the cushions in the right position when the doorbell rang. She shot Hamza an urgent look before darting off into the kitchen to begin preparing the tea.

Once she heard the footsteps receding, she quickly turned off the stove and stood near the doorway, giving her a clear glimpse of her father’s face sitting across Hamza on the divan. The air was tense, enough that even Yalina felt her heart speed up.

Hamza looked unruffled, his face impassive as he sat on chair with one leg crossed on the other. Her father, though, was seething, glaring at him viciously.

She did not remember him look so angry in her previous life. In fact, he looked quite happy and satisfied when he had left, even asking her to return in order to plan the wedding. So, what exactly did Hamza say to him that changed her father’s mind so drastically?

She watched Hamza light up a cigarette and leaned back on the chair. “Saleekey se baap ka farz ada kiya hota, toh beti aaj meri ghar nahi hoti.”  

Her father scoffed and she felt her brows furrow. Hamza was provoking him…but why?

“Kal ka aaya hua launda, mujhe naseefat dega? Unees ki bacchi hai woh, tees-battees ka toh hoga? Kuch toh sharam kar.”

Yalina nodded. This was normal for her father – for any decent father really – to say. He isn’t that old though, abbu. she thought ruefully. Hamza was going to turn only twenty-eight soon, for her father to assume that he is well into his thirties made her feel mortified.

She continued watching and saw her father launch into a venomous tirade as Hamza simply sat there, looking at him with a calculative gaze and a tiny smirk playing at his lips.

Once her father finished, Hamza leaned forward. “To protect your position, sometimes you leaned on Rehman, sometimes on SP Aslam, and these days I’ve heard that,” he chuckled coldly. “even the likes of Arshad Pappu are coiled around your neck.”

“You’ve always propped up people who could crush you the moment they get stronger and snatch Lyari right out of your hands.” He continued, with his intense, sharp gaze set on the other man. “If you really want to hold onto Lyari, then stop chasing after Rehman, or Aslam, and choose someone…who’s truly yours. Someone, who’s loyal,” he leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. “jo aapka saga ho. Sochlo Jameel saab, naseehat mein shola hai.” He finished, voice low, barely more than a whisper.

She felt her breath catch, her gaze boring into her father’s face.

Say something. Don’t just agree, tell him that you won’t sell your daughter away for political power, please abbu, please. She cried in her mind but felt her heart drop when all she saw was her father silently raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Hamza’s smirk widened as he crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. He then tapped something on his phone before pushing it forward. Yalina couldn’t tell what exactly was being shown but she saw her father lean forward with interest and caution as a faint sound drifted from the object. His face fell instantly, until Hamza tapped on the screen again.

Both men leaned back in their places, and she watched her father’s eyes dart around before he gulped and pursed his lips. There was nothing but silence shared between the two, before Hamza reached out to pull a second cigarette out of the packet. He put it between his lips and looked around for a lighter after finding the box of matches empty – why even crush the first cigarette if you were going to light a second one up, she thought absentmindedly – when her father leaned forward and lit the cigarette up with his expensive lighter.

She felt her nails dig into her palms as she just stood there, watching her father get up and kiss the back of Hamza’s hand through the haze of the smoke between them.

He– he actually–  

Yalina suddenly felt a sudden shortness of breath. Her legs felt weak and she had to lean onto the wall to support herself.

Her mind buzzed, thoughts chaotic and nonsensical, and the only thing she could clearly make out was the jumbled chant of why. why. why. echoing relentlessly inside her head.

She saw Hamza raise his head, a satisfied look in his eye and turn towards the kitchen. A small frown appeared on his face, perhaps unnoticeable to anyone else, before standing up. She straightened quickly and hid inside, scrubbing harshly at her face to remove the traces of any tears she had let slip unknowingly.

“Tumhare abbu maan gaye.” She heard from behind shortly after, his voice smug and filled with something that almost sounded like boyish glee. “Jao, chai mai laata hu.”

She forced herself to nod before she turned around. She did not try to say anything, unable to trust her voice to not show her internal strife. She quickly exited the kitchen and walked towards where her father was sitting and scrolling through his phone. Catching the sight of her, he quickly stuffed it into his breast pocket and threw her a smile. Perhaps if she were any younger – or any less aware – she wouldn’t have noticed the stiffness at the corner of his mouth.

Except she did.

It made her want to slap him. To grab him by his collar and ask him if he even cared about anything beyond his own ambitions.

Instead she smiled at him and accepted the hug he gave her after rising from his seat.

She remembered jumping into his arms in glee back in the previous life. So pitifully unaware and naïve, thinking that Hamza had convinced him that he would take care of her well, that he loved her.

She should’ve known. Hamza’s greatest strength lied in his ability to assess and uncover people’s greatest weaknesses. Naturally this was the best method, after all it shot two birds down with one stone. After all, now not only has he gained a father-in-law, but also an ally who will help him take a step further towards completing his mission.

She wondered what sins she had committed in her past life, that in this life she had no one who had ever sincerely loved her without thinking of her as a tool to be used.

“Areh rote nahi baccha, thori mai tum dono ko juda karta?” Her father said while patting her back. “woh toh bas gusse mai keh diya tha.”

She didn’t even know she was crying. How pathetic. Is that all she was capable of?

She pulled away from him and smiled again, wiping at her wet cheeks. Her father looked nonplussed but sat back down alongside her. Hamza soon came out, balancing three cups on the tray he was holding.

“Well then, since everything is decided now, you should come back home until the wedding hain na?” Her father said with his signature laugh, bending forward to pick up a cup.

Hamza turned to look at her with a question in his eyes. She wanted to speak for herself, but the act of opening her mouth felt dangerous. She shook her head at him instead. A strange look appeared in his eyes before he composed himself.

“Itni jaldi kya hai?” He asked after shifting to look at her father.

He shot Hamza an annoyed look before replying. “Itne mahino se toh tumhare yahan reh rhi hai, ab jald shaadi bhi hone waali hai, ab toh lautne doh! Waise bhi, ab toh puri zindagi tumhare ghar hi rahegi hai na.” He broke into a laughter that went unanswered. Bewildered, he stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Hamza did not bother paying attention to her father anymore, turning to stare at her instead. She could feel the intensity of his gaze without even raising her head. An awkward silence making its way inside. Her father's eyes kept darting between her and Hamza, bouncing between the two like a ping pong.

“Let’s talk about this later, don’t you have to return to assembly? We won’t hold you back anymore.” She finally managed to say, her face and voice both composed. Her father slapped the arm rest of the divan before he stood up in a rush. Yalina slowly got up, avoiding Hamza's keen gaze and followed after him.

“Don’t forget to call today. We’ll discuss your living arrangements properly then.” her father said in a hurried manner while taking the phone out of his breast pocket and dialing someone.

“You’ve already said yes to the wedding, why care about these trivial matters now?” She asked monotonously. “After all there’s no difference whether I stay here or there.”

He shot her a strange look which she met calmly before looking at something behind her. He broke into another awkward laugh before patting her shoulder and leaving the apartment.

She shut the door and fastened the bolt quietly.

“I thought you would be happy.” Hamza said after a while, his voice not betraying any emotion Neither did his face she noticed once she turned around.

She rested her back against the door and looked at him silently before replying. “I thought so too.”

She stared at the sky through the open balcony door and suddenly wished that it would start pouring. Perhaps the gloomy weather would be able to soothe her hurt. The current brightness outside served no purpose other than to taunt her.

“Changed your mind already?” He asked casually, toying with the rim of the teacup in his hand.

“Not everything is about you Hamza.” She retorted sharply. “Unless you too are simply using me to climb up the ladder and fulfil your ambitions?” She blurted out, unable to control herself any longer. Her insides felt like a mess and she felt like she was drowning in an endless ocean.

She knew the truth. She also knew what his answer would be. Perhaps his lie would make it hurt less.

She was familiar with the pain caused by him – had plenty of experience with it, unlike with whatever she was feeling right now.

“Jawab do, mujhe.” She said sharply.

She needed him to hurt her; needed to see the detestable, familiar guilt flash in his eyes briefly before he lied to her smoothly.

But why wasn’t he saying anything?  

He stood up from the chair, a concerned look on his face. She drew herself straighter against the door. “No.”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t come near me.” She shook her head forcefully

“Yalina-”  

“No!” she yelled out, before forcing herself to calm down. Hamza had his faults, but he did not deserve to have her to lash out at him for something that her father was at fault for. “Just- I need to be alone for some time. Please,” she said, her chest trembling.

She turned around and undid the bolt but before she could open the door and leave, Hamza appeared. He gingerly placed a hand on top of hers. “I’ll go. It’s not safe for you to be alone outside, you stay here. I’ll leave.”

“I was just going to the rooftop.” She protested but he turned a deaf ear to her, bending down to grab his shoes.

He grabbed the motorcycle keys hanging on the hook and left before she could say anything else. After a while she forced herself to move and sluggishly walked over to the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, staring at the cups on the little coffee table.

With Hamza gone, all she felt now was a vast emptiness. With the rage gone, all that remained was a chasm inside of her which threatened to swallow her whole. Perhaps it was good that Hamza did not let her go to the rooftop. She could not guarantee that she would have managed to stop herself from doing anything drastic.

The first rational – or rather the first comprehensible thought – she had after a long time was maybe the real reason why he wanted me to leave Hamza is so he could get me married to one of the politician’s sons. Far more valuable than selling me off to Rehman Dakait’s henchman.

It was a cruel thought, but it was better than staring into nothing while her mind buzzed with static. After that, she felt the tear slide down her cheek, before the dam completely broke.

How could he?

How dare he?

Did he for once even think of what his daughter might have to face before agreeing? He didn’t even ask Hamza once whether he was sincere towards her or not. Whether he will treat her well or not.

No, all he cared about was his siyasati takht.

Why was she even born? Her own mother hates her, her father does not see her as anything beyond a mildly useful object, and even the person she had devoted herself to held nefarious intentions. What even was the purpose of her life? To be nothing more than a pawn that’s pushed around the board from one side to the other?

Why? She knew she wasn’t a perfect person, but she had always tried to be good. She tried to be a good daughter, a good wife, a good mother, a good friend, a good person and for what?

Just to find out that everything she had ever done was in vain? That it never mattered because she was surrounded by people who never even cared about her in the first place?

If Hamza had turned out to be abusive – completely ripping his façade away once she was tied to him – and if she had asked her father for help, would he even have done anything? Or would he have just left her to rot as long as his son-in-law helped him climb up the career ladder?

A humourless laugh was ripped out of her at that thought.

Perhaps it would have been better if Hamza was a terrible husband. Then maybe she would have managed to easily leave him and never discover the truth of her father.

After she finally managed to stop her angry sobs, she laid down on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind blank. Her body felt exhausted, but she felt her brain start thinking rationally again. For the first time, she did not curse at herself for being naive or weak. Instead, she chose to reconsider her situation. Yes, she was naive in her first life, but now she could no longer let herself be the same. The conversation she overheard was the proof of that. Her biggest weakness is that she's reliant on others for survival. If she wasn't so dependent on her father, and had instead tried to forge her own path, then perhaps she wouldn't have so easily turned into a tool at anyone's disposal. Even now, all she would be doing is changing the person she relied on to ensure her survival. 

Suddenly a long lost memory floated up in her mind. Hamza, standing with a gun helplessly at the underground shooting range he had built, begging her to learn. She had found the gun novel at first, but after shooting the first two bullets, all of the novelty had worn off and she found it annoying.

"tumhe seekhne ki zaroorat hai Yalina, khud ki hifazat karne ke liye." He had said, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. What had her answer been then? ah yes "Tum toh ho na?" she had giggled out at that time, drawing out another sigh from him. She suddenly felt unbearably angry at herself as shame coursed through her body. 

Yes, he had indeed protected her when he was there. But what about when he wasn't? When a madman broke into their house and held their son at gunpoint, threatening for answers? 

Yalina shut her eyes. No, she could no longer just drift along helplessly anymore. She needed to become someone who could look out for their own. Someone, who wasn't just a spoilt housewife. Her old life has already been torn apart, now it was time to rebuild herself along with this new life she had been given. How could she change her husband's fate, if she did not even change hers? 

A knock sounded on the door – quiet and hesitant, breaking her away from her thoughts. She stood up and quickly opened the door, hoping it would be who she thought it was.

And it was.

Hamza stood at the door, cautious, with a plastic bag dangling from his fingertips. He had been staring down at his feet and abruptly raised his head when he heard the door open. Yalina peeked out from behind. He cleared his throat and thrust the plastic bag forward.

“I bought some ice cream. Don’t worry I won’t enter, if you wish, I can spend the night outside as well. Either at Aalam bhai’s or Uzair’s. I’ll manage.”

She reached out and touched the bag’s handle but did not pull it away.

“I don’t want you to spend the night outside.” She said softly. “You don’t have to leave now either. I’m doing better now.”

“You sure?” He asked hesitantly.

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He quickly stepped through the door at that and shut it behind him.

Yalina peeked at the contents; a chocolate cone and vanilla cup, belonging to a cheap brand she couldn’t recognize anymore.

“I don’t understand you,” She muttered, mostly to herself. But of course he caught it.

“Hm?” He paused while taking off his shoes.

It was as if all of that earlier clarity had been thrown out of the window. Somehow this mundane act of her husband felt jarring. It was too similar to the Hamza she had known once upon a time, before she had discovered that it wasn't even his real name in the first place. That Hamza, who had his lies revealed, no longer acted this way; always moving around in secret and with caution. She couldn't remember the last time he had the courage to hand her something so directly without that same detestable guilt and apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t understand why you are so nice to me, when you’re clearly also using me for gain.” she repeated, like a fool.

Hamza’s eyes widened a fraction, his body freezing completely by the tiny cabinet they used as a shoerack.

“You think I can’t tell,” she laughed without any humour. “that I’m too naïve to suspect anything – and I was, until recently. It’s all so obvious to me now.” She pulled the cone out of the plastic, looking down at it with an undecipherable gaze. “At least my father is consistent, all you ever do is pull yourself away and then push back again.”

“Yalina, what do you even mean?” He asked, a tremor hidden in his voice; barely noticeable, even to her.

Don’t blow it, you’ve managed to hold on for so long, don’t ruin it. A voice whispered in her mind and brought some semblance of clarity in it. Her gaze flickered and turned to look at him.

There was still a chance to salvage the situation, and even though she felt way too tired, she had to fix it. She couldn’t let a momentary loss of control destroy this miraculous chance she had been given.

“I asked you if you were using me as well,” her voice felt distant, as if it was someone else speaking and not her. “and you just stayed silent.”

Mohabbat toh sirf maine ki thi na, she remembered herself saying from a long time ago, back when she had still hoped that he would prove her wrong and at least tell her that he did love her despite everything else, that he didn’t just see her as a tool to strengthen his cover.

“I wanted to,” he replied while taking a step forward. “but you were not in the state to listen.”

“Then tell me now.”

Best to get it over with. She had created this mess, so she needed to fix it even if she had to be reminded of the bitter truth again.

Hamza moved to stand in front of her. For a long time he just looked down at her in silence. Yalina no longer dared to look at him and averted her gaze, forcing herself to focus on the cold sensation of the ice cream in her hand. Then, very slowly, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled himself down to look into her eyes. “I’ll admit it.”

She blinked in surprise.

“I did approach you because you were Jameel Jamali’s daughter. Even that night when we first spoke, it was me who made SP Maqsood call a raid. I had messed with your car’s engine and made sure that no one but me could pull you out of that mess.”

She felt herself stiffen in his hold. He looked too uncanny while speaking like this; his eyes completely blank and face completely stoic. It felt like, like he wasn’t even himself anymore.

“It was all planned. The words I spoke to you while walking you home, handing over you your phone, the flirting, everything.” He drew himself back and looked down at her the same impassive face and blank gaze. “I understand if you wish to leave. I’ll handle your father and I won’t let him put you through anything you don’t want to do.”

After finishing he stepped back, creating a wide gap between the two. There was no sound except for the distant noise of the bustling streets of Lyari drifting in through the window. Yalina took in a deep breath, trying to process everything she just heard. There were several questions running through her mind, but she focused on voicing the one which mattered the most right now.

“And?”

Hamza frowned briefly, if Yalina had not been staring at him intently, she would have definitely missed it. However that brief look was soon replaced with that blank gaze again, somehow more intense than before. “I don’t understand what you mean.” he said monotonously.

She didn’t know what she meant by it either. “I mean,” she paused trying to figure out what she wanted to convey. “what exactly was your plan by doing all this?”

"I told you, I want to rule over Karachi. Naturally it’s easy with your father by my side.”

Yalina shook her head roughly. “No. No." She paused, biting the inside of her cheeks as she tried to ground herself. "My father is the most treacherous man I know. He’s climbed up the ranks and reached where he has by being nothing more than a sell-out. You didn’t have to marry me just to get his allegiance.”

“But it is the cherry on top, isn’t it?” He smiled without any of the usual softness or genteel humor behind it; It was all bitter and cold.

“But it’s always been me who’s been pushing for marriage! You- you’ve never even considered it before I brought it up!” She spoke, desperation lining her voice. 

“Who am I to deny when you were offering yourself up on a platter?” He answered with contempt.

It should’ve provoked her into lashing out, but it didn’t. It did the opposite actually, all of her panic and fluster from Hamza’s sudden confession disappeared. All of a sudden, she felt like she could see everything clearly, from the beginning to the end.

Hamza was too calm. Eerily so. He had been clearly caught off guard by her words, and yet, he was far too calm right now. Even that night when she had discovered the truth and confronted him, he had not been so calm despite trying desperately.

Hamza was calm only when he believed that he was in full control of the situation.

Which meant only one thing – that whatever he was doing right now, it had a purpose.

Yalina grabbed him by the lapels and harshly yanked him down, bringing them on the same eye level. She spoke slowly, tasting her words as a thought started to take its place in her mind.  “If you are trying to get rid of me…then prepare to fail.”

A flicker of hesitation flashed in his eyes briefly before his eyes went blank again. The fact that he stayed silent even after this just solidified her conviction.

“Tell me Hamza,” She gripped his salwar tighter. “are you trying to get rid of me because you feel guilty for dragging me into your mess? Because I am an innocent girl in your eyes, and I don’t deserve to have my life destroyed?”

She felt him try to pull away but she tightened her grip, the nails digging in the fabric. “Because if so, then you are really fucking stupid.”

He just stayed silent. It was frustrating, but thankfully familiar. Hamza tended to retreat into the corner when pushed, reverting to a façade and repressing all emotion. All she had to do was pull him out of the corner and then let him do the rest.

She loosened her grip on him. She stepped back and took in a deep breath.

“I know that you aren’t perfect or completely innocent, and honestly, I don't even care that you approached me selfishly; as long as you truly love me and care for me.” She kept her gaze onto his, unwilling to look away for even a moment. The only way to understand Hamza was through his eyes; she couldn’t lose this, not now. “You think that if you successfully push me out of your life, I'll be happy? You're wrong.”

She spoke softly, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Not just because I love you too much to be happy without you, but also because I have no one else to protect me. You saw what happened today. If I return now, then the next person my father will sell me to is probably Zarwari sahab's son or some other politician or businessman's son. Maybe not even that; maybe I'll share my mother's fate and have to marry some man who's twice or thrice my age and live out the rest of my life in misery. Can't you see, Hamza? I just want you to love me sincerely. I don't care about anything else; I've never had the privilege of caring for anything else.” Her voice rose sharply.

“If you insist that I don't matter to you at all, then I'll leave this instant. But if I do matter, then stop pushing me away, and stop pulling away from me. Just stay. Please, just stay. I won't question your motives; I won't ask any hard questions. I'll stay if you stay." She finished, her chest heaving.

Hamza stayed silent, his gaze undecipherable. Meanwhile, she prayed to every god in existence that her hastily constructed speech had worked on him. The silence stretched over for a long time; he did not answer and she did not push him for any. Then slowly, excruciatingly so, he stepped forward. They were standing so close now, barely an inch between them. Then he slowly raised his arms and paused before wrapping them around her. Unlike the other times, his grip on her was tight. Yalina finally relaxed; it had worked. 

“I was disheartened at my father’s behaviour, not at yours,” she mumbled into his chest, desperate to reassure him.

“I thought it was my words,” he answered awkwardly, his voice gruff.

She pulled away to look up at him. “I’m not an idiot Hamza. I could understand what you were doing and the why behind it. I was simply disappointed at my father’s behaviour.”

“I don’t know if I should be worried about your endless tolerance towards me or not,” he quietly muttered. 

“Why would that worry you? Shouldn’t you feel lucky instead?” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. However, Hamza did not return the smile. He stared at her silently before nodding. He squeezed her shoulder lightly before stepping away from her.

Gently taking the ice cream cone and the plastic bag out of her hands, he headed to the kitchen. She shut her eyes and took in a few deep breaths to regulate herself while she heard him open the refrigerator and place the plastic bag inside.

legs feeling stiff, she walked over to the bed and sat down. Soon, Hamza came out with a glass in his hand.

“Paani peelo,” he said quietly while handing the glass to her. He sat down beside her as she tilted her head back to drink.

“Will you be going back to your father’s house and stay there until the wedding?” He asked, an unnoticeable trace of exhaustion lining his voice.

Yalina shuddered as she put her hand down. “No way, especially after what I heard today.”

Hamza turned to face her with an amused smile. “He won’t like it.”

“Don’t care,” she answered nonchalantly, tracing the rim of the glass with her fingertips. “I’ll just visit to plan the wedding; I won’t be able to sleep for the next few months in peace if I move back in.”   

Hamza nodded in reply.

The silence that spread between them afterwards felt awkward, though Yalina felt that it was only from her side; Hamza seemed lost in his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started, watching Hamza snap out of the daze he’d been in. “about getting a degree. In medicine.” She spoke hesitantly, suddenly shy.

In her previous life she had gone to college, but she had only studied a basic science course and only because Hamza had forced her.

She had been far more interested in becoming a wife and a mother – to live a life she had missed out on, to make up for her own childhood. It wasn’t until their mansion had started to feel like a prison that she regretted letting go of her initial dream.

She had long known that her mother would not let her pursue a career, much less one in medicine, and soon she did not even have the will to fight anymore; her priorities shifted from fulfilling the grand ambition of becoming a doctor to simply getting out of the house.

Hamza’s eyes brightened and Yalina felt herself relax.

“That’s a great idea. I’ve always wanted you to finish your education and get a degree,” He said with a small smile.

“I’ve been thinking of becoming a pediatrician,” She muttered, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I like children, and I think I’ll enjoy it. Plus, It will give me a proper reason to stay away from my father’s house.”

She knew that Hamza would never discourage her from following her dreams, nor ever mock her for having them, but she still couldn’t stop herself from bracing for his reaction.

“It’s perfect for you,” He said, his smile widening. “You’re great with children. I’ve seen it first-hand. You’d make a great doctor.”

Yalina grabbed his hand and squeezed it, even though what she really wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him. Baby steps, she chanted inside her head. She wasn’t ready to start initiating again.

“Then I’ll speak to my father today, okay? I already have a college in mind, although its not Islamabad, studying in Karachi isn’t bad either.”

Hamza wilted slightly and Yalina had to stifle a laugh threatening to spill out. “You can go study in Islamabad if you want,” He said gently.

Yalina shook her head. “I want to stay by your side. Besides, It’s better to study here I’ll have you to take care of me, won’t I? If I go to Islamabad, then I’ll be all alone.”

Hamza rolled his eyes before smiling at her in amusement. “You do need someone to watch over you.”

He then leaned in and kissed her gently. It was soft and chaste, and Yalina felt a warmth spread inside her chest. He slowly pulled back and nosed at her flushed cheeks before his phone rang out. With a curse, he stood up and walked over to the balcony.

And Yalina, still on the bed, dazed from the kiss, let herself hope freely. For the first time it felt like that the long narrow road in front of her wasn't quite as shrouded in darkness as she had thought.

Author's Notes:

this is mostly the end of the angst heavy arc because i think yalina's insecurities have been mostly assuaged? Also im sick of my blorbos being sad. The next chapter is the wedding + rehman dakaits death & its aftermath so there's definitely going to be fluff and hurt/comfort! I really enjoyed writing the entire dilemma Yalina has after she overhears the exchange between her father and Hamza, even though writing it was so hard. Do I think that Jameel is as bad as Yalina sees him right now? nah but I still think its hella shity that he just agreed without even asking her properly, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt considering that he knows about Jaskirat. Hopefully he knew that Jaskirat is a sweet boi who wouldn't abuse his daughter because of Sanyal, otherwise him selling off his daughter just to save his own mission is so much worse than Hamza honey trapping Yalina to use her. Honestly, I would love to one day write a fic which explores Jameel's POV because I want to desperately study and understand his character. He clearly loves his daughter but has such a selfish and complex way of showing it. Also I am kind of dubious about whether the entire confrontation scene in the first half of the chapter was written or concluded well or not so I would feel great if y'all shared ur thoughts!!! <3 taglist: @ib-gremlin @sunxister21 @theshadowdivasblog @bway43 @luvmaii @woolgatheringgg

CHAPTER – 4

The next day she woke up quite early, earlier than Hamza, in fact, which was rarer than catching a sight of the Halley’s comet in one’s lifetime. She felt exhaustion weighing down on her and she could barely keep her eyes open without them stinging, but the sleep she so clearly needed had already vanished into thin air.

The sun had barely risen, more orange that the usual yellow, and the sky had only just started to brighten. In an hour or two, Hamza would be waking up.

Yalina sat up in bed and blinked blearily. A yawn escaped her and she did not even have the energy to stifle it. She turned her head around and caught a glimpse of Hamza lost in dreamland.

She felt a pout forming on her face out of sheer envy and unfairness of it all. She turned her gaze towards the window and observed the tranquil world outside, its serenity yet to be broken by the clamour of the city still asleep.

Her heart felt a little lighter. She had at least figured out what she wanted to do, even if it wasn’t the how. She wanted to build a better – happier – future with this man.

She turned around to face him and placed a tiny, feather-light kiss on his nose before crawling out of bed.

She wanted to let him know that she chose him. That she wanted to stay and weather all the storms together with him. However, she could not use her words to properly declare her unwavering devotion to him right now, no. Besides, habits were hard to change suddenly. After 7 years of distance, she found it tough to act like her youthful, lovesick self.

Instead, she opted for acts of service.

She quickly stepped into the kitchen after freshening up. Though her cooking wasn’t anything to write home to, certainly nowhere near Hamza’s but it was good enough. Well, enough to make sure that no one starved to death.

Hamza had always insisted that cooking was a relaxing activity, but she begged to differ. Being covered in flour, with one hand stuck in the still too dry dough, and the other struggling to reach the glass of water, while the stupid daal on the stove was starting to dry up, was not her idea of a ‘relaxing’ experience.

She wondered if it was because his average everyday activity was espionage. It probably really lowered one’s standards, right? Even her 12 hours of labour was not this bad. At least she had epidural, oh and her husband’s poor little hand to torment with her bruising grip.

She truly did not appreciate Hamza enough, if this was what he had to do every day until they finally had enough money to hire a personal chef.

Then when she finally managed to brush her fingers against the glass, it fell off the counter. Of course. To make matters worse, she heard footsteps and watched with dismay as Hamza peeked inside, squinting, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Why!” she finally wailed out, unable to hold herself back anymore. “Just- just go back, okay? You saw nothing!”

He raised an eyebrow before stepping in to pick up the glass from the floor. He glanced around the messy kitchen in amusement before speaking. “Itni subah subah yeh kya kar rhi ho?”

Yalina shot a scathing glare in his direction. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself genius?”

She watched his shoulders shake in laughter.

“You-” She gasped in offence “don’t you dare laugh!”

Hamza threw up his arms in the air in mock surrender as he straightened his face. “I meant why are you in the kitchen? I’m still alive, no?”

She froze. The words hung there, harmless to anyone else. She swallowed and forced herself to roll her eyes. She didn’t deign to give him any other reply and went back to focusing on kneading the dough. He approached her and observed the half-cooked food from over her shoulder as his fingers tapped on the glass in a steady rhythm.

“Kis khushi mein, hm?” He asked as he leaned against the counter.

“Why? Am I only allowed to cook on a special occasion? Sorry to disappoint you, but my skills aren’t good enough for that.” She huffed while trying to blow a stray lock off her face.

“The more you punch that dough, the less it will turn out the way you want.” He chuckled as he tucked the strand behind her ear. “You need to roll it in, like this.” He gently pulled the bowl out of her grasp and started to work on it.

“Well there goes my plans.” She grumbled and leaned against the counter in defeat, eyeing the dough, which had slowly started to shape up under his ministrations, with displeasure.

“What plans?”

Yalina shook her head and turned her attention towards stirring the simmering daal on the stove. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does.” He answered in a helpless tone. “Ab batao toh sahi.”

“I just wanted to cook breakfast! That’s all!”

“That’s the thing though, you don’t usually-”

Yalina placed the steel spatula onto the counter loudly and turned around to face Hamza warily eyeing her. “Why are you acting as if I’m not even allowed to enter the kitchen?”

“I didn’t say tha-”

“No! let me finish!” She said while jabbing a finger in his chest. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, and get some practice maybe before we get married, except it didn’t work out the way I wanted and I am already so frustrated that I needed your help even though I wanted to surprise you and maybe impress you and you- you’re not helping with your interrogation!” She finished as she blew the stray lock off her face that had managed to slip out in the middle of her tirade.

“Married.” Hamza stared at her, incredulous.

“That’s all you got out of it?” Yalina asked him, exasperated.

“You said you were going to think it over,” he demanded, a hard edge to his voice.

“What?”

She saw him shut his eyes and clench his jaw before he answered. “About staying. With me.”

She blinked twice, her mouth opening and closing as Hamza kept staring at her intensely. “I know.”

“So?”

“What so? I’ve already made my decision. Good god Hamza, why are you reacting so intensely, you scared me half to death.”

“Made your decision.” He repeated in disbelief. “In what, 6 hours?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.”

Hamza threw his hands up in the air before using his clean hand to rub in face. “Yalina, for god’s sake, can you just please take this seriously?”

“Its rather insulting for you to assume that I haven’t.” She answered coolly.

“And you chose,” he gestured wildly at the room. “this.”

Yalina crossed her arms defensively across her chest and replied aghast. “Obviously! What did you- did you just think that I was just going to leave?”

 “Yes!” He answered with a sharp exhale. “Like any sane person would.”

“Are you calling me insane?”

“No! And stop twisting my words into something else!”

“Well guess what, you were wrong buddy!” She stepped forward and jabbed a finger in his chest harshly. He looked down at her with visible frustration but made no attempt to stop her. “And frankly, I’m very offended that you thought I was going to just abandon you the second I faced a little bit hardship. I’m not a little girl okay hamza? You think I don’t know what a gangster does? You think I don’t know who Rehman Dakait is? I know everything and I still chose to pursue this-” she jabbed again “relationship between us!”

“A little bit of hardship? Yalina,” Hamza groaned “you getting stuck in the middle of a shooting is not a ‘little bit of hardship’ okay? You- you could’ve died!”

He stepped back after saying that, his back hitting the tiled wall of the cramped kitchen. They were both breathing harshly, and Yalina felt her lower lip tremble before she turned her head to the side to stare at the rickety old wooden cabinet.

“You don’t belong here.” He said softly. “You, don’t deserve this.”

Yalina shut her eyes, dejected.

Why was he telling her this? Why now? He had never said this to her in her previous life. Certainly not after the truth had been revealed.

“Why-” She paused to clear her throat and turned her head around to face him. “why are you so intent on trying to get rid of me? You’re the one who pursued me first!”

“We’re not on the same page right now. You’re not understanding what I’m trying to say.”

“Well I don’t care!” She finally sobbed out. “I don’t care if the right decision is leaving you and living my best life. I don’t care if its stupid to stay with you after everything! I don’t want to make logical decisions! I want to make the decisions which feel right to me because they follow my heart!”

She bent her head down and pressed her palms to her eyes as she exhaled harshly.

He stood there, staring at her, something raw and unguarded flickering across his face, before speaking again.

“But you’re not happy.”

Her head snapped up. “What? What do you mean?”

“You think I haven’t seen it?” He demanded before softening his voice and stepping forward.

“This whole week you’ve been crying secretly. Not to mention that unexplainable outburst earlier this week. I can’t just watch that happen and not say something. I won’t-” He paused as he shut his eyes briefly. “I shouldn’t let you do something that’s making you unhappy. You’re still so young, barely in college. You’ll find another boyfriend, someone who can give you what I can’t, and It’s my job to let you know that.”

Somehow, this is the most he had spoken since she last remembered. Even after waking up here, he had been sombre and silent, always staring silently or writing in his diary when at home. She had forgotten that during the earlier years, before everything, he was a lot more unrestrained, and he didn’t just silently listen as she tried to fill up the silences, but rather actively contributed.

Yalina had been so caught up within herself, her emotional turmoil that she had failed to notice his.

“That wasn’t because of you.” Well technically that was true, she was crying over the previous life’s Hamza, and the life she had built with him, not the current one standing in front of her.

Before he could speak, she cut him off quickly. “I was crying over my parents.”

“Your parents?”

Yalina nodded. “I…had called my mother, asking her to convince dad to say yes – stupid, I know but a girl can hope right? And well, let’s just say that it hadn’t ended well.”

“Say yes to what?” He walked towards the stove and turned the gas off.

“Well, he’s been trying to bring me back home but obviously I haven’t and so he stopped sending me any money, so I just wanted to convince him to start again.”

There. A perfectly plausible explanation. She was grateful that her skills at lying were still as good as it was in her youth.

“You could’ve just asked me. Why go through all of this, you know what your mother’s like.”

“No I couldn’t.”

Hamza turned towards her with a narrowed gaze. “Why not?”

“Stop asking me so many questions!”

“I will once you answer me.” She had forgotten how stubborn he could get once he put his mind on something.

“It’s,” She took in a deep breath, her mind racing, “for your birthday!” she blurted out. “I wanted to buy you a gift and needed some money, because obviously I couldn’t just buy you a gift using your own money!”

Hamza raised a hand and scratched his brow, before sighing deeply. “I’d rather you not buy me a gift if it means begging your parents and having your feelings get hurt for it.”

“Alright.” She nodded as she looked down to smoothen down the wrinkles on her dress.

He stared at her with a complex and thoughtful gaze before returning to the half-done dough. She chose to busy herself with preparing the tadka for the daal while he finished kneading.

“Can you cook the rotis while I roll them?” He asked, tearing a piece and rolling it between his palms.

“Hm, rotis? They’re supposed to be parathas. There’s aloo in there,” She answered with a hum, stirring the daal after pouring the tadka

He froze and slowly turned to face her. “…What do you mean?”

She gestured at the bowl. “I boiled some potatoes and mashed them into the dough.”

“But-” he stared down, aghast. “That’s not how you-” He paused and took a deep breath. Then, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the kitchen. “You’re never entering the kitchen ever again, for as long as I am here at least.”

“What? Hamza, that’s ridiculous! I just took a shortcut instead of preparing the stuffing separately!” She tried to grab onto the counter but he gently pried her hand off and dragged her out.

“No,” He answered solemnly. “what you’ve done is criminal. You didn’t even add in the seasonings.” He whispered in disbelief near the end. “I didn’t know we were getting colonized again.”

“That’s your fault! I forgot because I was too busy arguing with you!”

“Let’s just reheat the leftover rice and have that with the daal instead. Also, who even prepares daal with aloo ke paranthe Yalina?”

Yalina shoved him spitefully. “It’s a perfectly respectable combination!” She yelled after him before heading to wash her hands. “You’re not being very grateful!”

Two months later, Yalina was flipping through a novel in boredom when she heard the door open.

Hamza walked in with a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. Catching sight of her, he shot her a small smile before he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He settled on a chair, switching on a news channel. Yalina eyed him silently before putting the book aside and headed to kitchen. It wasn't an everyday occurrence for Hamza to look so visibly happy after all.

“Chai bana ke doon ki sirf paani?” She asked, pausing near the doorway.

“Chai,” He replied, slowly leaning forward and flipping open his diary. She quickly averted her gaze and entered while grumbling inside. Really, wasn’t he being a little too lax around her? She did not know if she should feel insulted or happy about the fact that he acted so freely around her.

Insulted definitely, she was pretty sure she hasn’t yet managed to shake off the naïve girl persona she has in his mind; She thought mournfully.

She heard the crackled noise of static of the old television accompany the clear voice of the news anchor as she poured the tea into the cup through a strainer.

“according to the political analysts, Rehman Dakait entering the fray raises serious doubts about Jameel Jamali’s future…”

A tiny snort escaped her as she brought the teacup to Hamza, who quickly shut his diary before turning his gaze onto her. Right after she placed the cup on the table, he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap. “Tumhare abbu ke itne bure haalat dekh tumhe bohot hasi aa rhi hai?” He asked with a lazy smile.

“You don’t look any less happy either.” She challenged with a sly smile before turning towards the news broadcast.

She remembered her words from a different lifetime, bade ghaple kiye hai unhone, saza toh milegi hi. She knew now of course that her father’s fate wasn’t truly as downtrodden as everyone else was thinking. Within a few months, the same people who were switching sides right now, would be crawling back to him.

“You’re not worried?” She heard him ask.

She turned her head to look down on him. Should she repeat the same words as her previous life? After all, staying silent would be too suspicious.

“Why should I be? It’s not like his actions affect me anymore.” She replied instead as her fingers toyed with a lock of his hair.

He hummed in reply, his fingers tapping rhythmically on her waist before he spoke again. “Ek kaam karo. Kal chai pe bulao unhe.”

Although she had expected it, she was still surprised. There must be a reason why in both lifetimes, Hamza invited him over for marriage talks around this time. She knew better than to wait for him to tell her though. No, she would have to find out on her own. 

“Kyu?” She tried asking, despite knowing that she won’t truly get an answer.

“It’s a surprise.” Was all he said before taking a sip of the tea.

Though having expected it, she still couldn’t stop herself from harshly tugging at the lock intertwined between her fingers.

At least the tiny groan did its job at soothing her heart. She turned her gaze back to the news anchor, still discussing the ramifications of People's Party allying with the newly formed PAC and felt her heart grow heavy. She had a feeling that him calling her father over right at this time was not simply to convince him to say yes to them getting married. 

The next morning, she woke up early alongside Hamza. The phone call last night had been short, but pleasant, though even the fact that she was able to talk to her father after a long time had done nothing to alleviate her suspicions.

Her father was supposed to come over within a few hours, around brunch time, and she had taken her time to get everything ready. Though she knew what the outcome was, she still couldn’t help but feel nervous. Even though almost nothing out of the ordinary had happened so far, she was still worried that major changes might just start happening soon. And what better way to torment her than to try to ruin the wedding? She decided to leave Hamza to his own devices and focused on making the sitting area as presentable as possible. Keeping her hands busy at least kept her thoughts from drifting too much.

She had been busy setting the cushions in the right position when the doorbell rang. She shot Hamza an urgent look before darting off into the kitchen to begin preparing the tea.

Once she heard the footsteps receding, she quickly turned off the stove and stood near the doorway, giving her a clear glimpse of her father’s face sitting across Hamza on the divan. The air was tense, enough that even Yalina felt her heart speed up.

Hamza looked unruffled, his face impassive as he sat on chair with one leg crossed on the other. Her father, though, was seething, glaring at him viciously.

She did not remember him look so angry in her previous life. In fact, he looked quite happy and satisfied when he had left, even asking her to return in order to plan the wedding. So, what exactly did Hamza say to him that changed her father’s mind so drastically?

She watched Hamza light up a cigarette and leaned back on the chair. “Saleekey se baap ka farz ada kiya hota, toh beti aaj meri ghar nahi hoti.”  

Her father scoffed and she felt her brows furrow. Hamza was provoking him…but why?

“Kal ka aaya hua launda, mujhe naseefat dega? Unees ki bacchi hai woh, tees-battees ka toh hoga? Kuch toh sharam kar.”

Yalina nodded. This was normal for her father – for any decent father really – to say. He isn’t that old though, abbu. she thought ruefully. Hamza was going to turn only twenty-eight soon, for her father to assume that he is well into his thirties made her feel mortified.

She continued watching and saw her father launch into a venomous tirade as Hamza simply sat there, looking at him with a calculative gaze and a tiny smirk playing at his lips.

Once her father finished, Hamza leaned forward. “To protect your position, sometimes you leaned on Rehman, sometimes on SP Aslam, and these days I’ve heard that,” he chuckled coldly. “even the likes of Arshad Pappu are coiled around your neck.”

“You’ve always propped up people who could crush you the moment they get stronger and snatch Lyari right out of your hands.” He continued, with his intense, sharp gaze set on the other man. “If you really want to hold onto Lyari, then stop chasing after Rehman, or Aslam, and choose someone…who’s truly yours. Someone, who’s loyal,” he leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs. “jo aapka saga ho. Sochlo Jameel saab, naseehat mein shola hai.” He finished, voice low, barely more than a whisper.

She felt her breath catch, her gaze boring into her father’s face.

Say something. Don’t just agree, tell him that you won’t sell your daughter away for political power, please abbu, please. She cried in her mind but felt her heart drop when all she saw was her father silently raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Hamza’s smirk widened as he crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. He then tapped something on his phone before pushing it forward. Yalina couldn’t tell what exactly was being shown but she saw her father lean forward with interest and caution as a faint sound drifted from the object. His face fell instantly, until Hamza tapped on the screen again.

Both men leaned back in their places, and she watched her father’s eyes dart around before he gulped and pursed his lips. There was nothing but silence shared between the two, before Hamza reached out to pull a second cigarette out of the packet. He put it between his lips and looked around for a lighter after finding the box of matches empty – why even crush the first cigarette if you were going to light a second one up, she thought absentmindedly – when her father leaned forward and lit the cigarette up with his expensive lighter.

She felt her nails dig into her palms as she just stood there, watching her father get up and kiss the back of Hamza’s hand through the haze of the smoke between them.

He– he actually–  

Yalina suddenly felt a sudden shortness of breath. Her legs felt weak and she had to lean onto the wall to support herself.

Her mind buzzed, thoughts chaotic and nonsensical, and the only thing she could clearly make out was the jumbled chant of why. why. why. echoing relentlessly inside her head.

She saw Hamza raise his head, a satisfied look in his eye and turn towards the kitchen. A small frown appeared on his face, perhaps unnoticeable to anyone else, before standing up. She straightened quickly and hid inside, scrubbing harshly at her face to remove the traces of any tears she had let slip unknowingly.

“Tumhare abbu maan gaye.” She heard from behind shortly after, his voice smug and filled with something that almost sounded like boyish glee. “Jao, chai mai laata hu.”

She forced herself to nod before she turned around. She did not try to say anything, unable to trust her voice to not show her internal strife. She quickly exited the kitchen and walked towards where her father was sitting and scrolling through his phone. Catching the sight of her, he quickly stuffed it into his breast pocket and threw her a smile. Perhaps if she were any younger – or any less aware – she wouldn’t have noticed the stiffness at the corner of his mouth.

Except she did.

It made her want to slap him. To grab him by his collar and ask him if he even cared about anything beyond his own ambitions.

Instead she smiled at him and accepted the hug he gave her after rising from his seat.

She remembered jumping into his arms in glee back in the previous life. So pitifully unaware and naïve, thinking that Hamza had convinced him that he would take care of her well, that he loved her.

She should’ve known. Hamza’s greatest strength lied in his ability to assess and uncover people’s greatest weaknesses. Naturally this was the best method, after all it shot two birds down with one stone. After all, now not only has he gained a father-in-law, but also an ally who will help him take a step further towards completing his mission.

She wondered what sins she had committed in her past life, that in this life she had no one who had ever sincerely loved her without thinking of her as a tool to be used.

“Areh rote nahi baccha, thori mai tum dono ko juda karta?” Her father said while patting her back. “woh toh bas gusse mai keh diya tha.”

She didn’t even know she was crying. How pathetic. Is that all she was capable of?

She pulled away from him and smiled again, wiping at her wet cheeks. Her father looked nonplussed but sat back down alongside her. Hamza soon came out, balancing three cups on the tray he was holding.

“Well then, since everything is decided now, you should come back home until the wedding hain na?” Her father said with his signature laugh, bending forward to pick up a cup.

Hamza turned to look at her with a question in his eyes. She wanted to speak for herself, but the act of opening her mouth felt dangerous. She shook her head at him instead. A strange look appeared in his eyes before he composed himself.

“Itni jaldi kya hai?” He asked after shifting to look at her father.

He shot Hamza an annoyed look before replying. “Itne mahino se toh tumhare yahan reh rhi hai, ab jald shaadi bhi hone waali hai, ab toh lautne doh! Waise bhi, ab toh puri zindagi tumhare ghar hi rahegi hai na.” He broke into a laughter that went unanswered. Bewildered, he stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly.

Hamza did not bother paying attention to her father anymore, turning to stare at her instead. She could feel the intensity of his gaze without even raising her head. An awkward silence making its way inside. Her father's eyes kept darting between her and Hamza, bouncing between the two like a ping pong.

“Let’s talk about this later, don’t you have to return to assembly? We won’t hold you back anymore.” She finally managed to say, her face and voice both composed. Her father slapped the arm rest of the divan before he stood up in a rush. Yalina slowly got up, avoiding Hamza's keen gaze and followed after him.

“Don’t forget to call today. We’ll discuss your living arrangements properly then.” her father said in a hurried manner while taking the phone out of his breast pocket and dialing someone.

“You’ve already said yes to the wedding, why care about these trivial matters now?” She asked monotonously. “After all there’s no difference whether I stay here or there.”

He shot her a strange look which she met calmly before looking at something behind her. He broke into another awkward laugh before patting her shoulder and leaving the apartment.

She shut the door and fastened the bolt quietly.

“I thought you would be happy.” Hamza said after a while, his voice not betraying any emotion Neither did his face she noticed once she turned around.

She rested her back against the door and looked at him silently before replying. “I thought so too.”

She stared at the sky through the open balcony door and suddenly wished that it would start pouring. Perhaps the gloomy weather would be able to soothe her hurt. The current brightness outside served no purpose other than to taunt her.

“Changed your mind already?” He asked casually, toying with the rim of the teacup in his hand.

“Not everything is about you Hamza.” She retorted sharply. “Unless you too are simply using me to climb up the ladder and fulfil your ambitions?” She blurted out, unable to control herself any longer. Her insides felt like a mess and she felt like she was drowning in an endless ocean.

She knew the truth. She also knew what his answer would be. Perhaps his lie would make it hurt less.

She was familiar with the pain caused by him – had plenty of experience with it, unlike with whatever she was feeling right now.

“Jawab do, mujhe.” She said sharply.

She needed him to hurt her; needed to see the detestable, familiar guilt flash in his eyes briefly before he lied to her smoothly.

But why wasn’t he saying anything?  

He stood up from the chair, a concerned look on his face. She drew herself straighter against the door. “No.”

He paused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t come near me.” She shook her head forcefully

“Yalina-”  

“No!” she yelled out, before forcing herself to calm down. Hamza had his faults, but he did not deserve to have her to lash out at him for something that her father was at fault for. “Just- I need to be alone for some time. Please,” she said, her chest trembling.

She turned around and undid the bolt but before she could open the door and leave, Hamza appeared. He gingerly placed a hand on top of hers. “I’ll go. It’s not safe for you to be alone outside, you stay here. I’ll leave.”

“I was just going to the rooftop.” She protested but he turned a deaf ear to her, bending down to grab his shoes.

He grabbed the motorcycle keys hanging on the hook and left before she could say anything else. After a while she forced herself to move and sluggishly walked over to the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, staring at the cups on the little coffee table.

With Hamza gone, all she felt now was a vast emptiness. With the rage gone, all that remained was a chasm inside of her which threatened to swallow her whole. Perhaps it was good that Hamza did not let her go to the rooftop. She could not guarantee that she would have managed to stop herself from doing anything drastic.

The first rational – or rather the first comprehensible thought – she had after a long time was maybe the real reason why he wanted me to leave Hamza is so he could get me married to one of the politician’s sons. Far more valuable than selling me off to Rehman Dakait’s henchman.

It was a cruel thought, but it was better than staring into nothing while her mind buzzed with static. After that, she felt the tear slide down her cheek, before the dam completely broke.

How could he?

How dare he?

Did he for once even think of what his daughter might have to face before agreeing? He didn’t even ask Hamza once whether he was sincere towards her or not. Whether he will treat her well or not.

No, all he cared about was his siyasati takht.

Why was she even born? Her own mother hates her, her father does not see her as anything beyond a mildly useful object, and even the person she had devoted herself to held nefarious intentions. What even was the purpose of her life? To be nothing more than a pawn that’s pushed around the board from one side to the other?

Why? She knew she wasn’t a perfect person, but she had always tried to be good. She tried to be a good daughter, a good wife, a good mother, a good friend, a good person and for what?

Just to find out that everything she had ever done was in vain? That it never mattered because she was surrounded by people who never even cared about her in the first place?

If Hamza had turned out to be abusive – completely ripping his façade away once she was tied to him – and if she had asked her father for help, would he even have done anything? Or would he have just left her to rot as long as his son-in-law helped him climb up the career ladder?

A humourless laugh was ripped out of her at that thought.

Perhaps it would have been better if Hamza was a terrible husband. Then maybe she would have managed to easily leave him and never discover the truth of her father.

After she finally managed to stop her angry sobs, she laid down on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind blank. Her body felt exhausted, but she felt her brain start thinking rationally again. For the first time, she did not curse at herself for being naive or weak. Instead, she chose to reconsider her situation. Yes, she was naive in her first life, but now she could no longer let herself be the same. The conversation she overheard was the proof of that. Her biggest weakness is that she's reliant on others for survival. If she wasn't so dependent on her father, and had instead tried to forge her own path, then perhaps she wouldn't have so easily turned into a tool at anyone's disposal. Even now, all she would be doing is changing the person she relied on to ensure her survival. 

Suddenly a long lost memory floated up in her mind. Hamza, standing with a gun helplessly at the underground shooting range he had built, begging her to learn. She had found the gun novel at first, but after shooting the first two bullets, all of the novelty had worn off and she found it annoying.

"tumhe seekhne ki zaroorat hai Yalina, khud ki hifazat karne ke liye." He had said, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. What had her answer been then? ah yes "Tum toh ho na?" she had giggled out at that time, drawing out another sigh from him. She suddenly felt unbearably angry at herself as shame coursed through her body. 

Yes, he had indeed protected her when he was there. But what about when he wasn't? When a madman broke into their house and held their son at gunpoint, threatening for answers? 

Yalina shut her eyes. No, she could no longer just drift along helplessly anymore. She needed to become someone who could look out for their own. Someone, who wasn't just a spoilt housewife. Her old life has already been torn apart, now it was time to rebuild herself along with this new life she had been given. How could she change her husband's fate, if she did not even change hers? 

A knock sounded on the door – quiet and hesitant, breaking her away from her thoughts. She stood up and quickly opened the door, hoping it would be who she thought it was.

And it was.

Hamza stood at the door, cautious, with a plastic bag dangling from his fingertips. He had been staring down at his feet and abruptly raised his head when he heard the door open. Yalina peeked out from behind. He cleared his throat and thrust the plastic bag forward.

“I bought some ice cream. Don’t worry I won’t enter, if you wish, I can spend the night outside as well. Either at Aalam bhai’s or Uzair’s. I’ll manage.”

She reached out and touched the bag’s handle but did not pull it away.

“I don’t want you to spend the night outside.” She said softly. “You don’t have to leave now either. I’m doing better now.”

“You sure?” He asked hesitantly.

“Do you want me to change my mind?” He quickly stepped through the door at that and shut it behind him.

Yalina peeked at the contents; a chocolate cone and vanilla cup, belonging to a cheap brand she couldn’t recognize anymore.

“I don’t understand you,” She muttered, mostly to herself. But of course he caught it.

“Hm?” He paused while taking off his shoes.

It was as if all of that earlier clarity had been thrown out of the window. Somehow this mundane act of her husband felt jarring. It was too similar to the Hamza she had known once upon a time, before she had discovered that it wasn't even his real name in the first place. That Hamza, who had his lies revealed, no longer acted this way; always moving around in secret and with caution. She couldn't remember the last time he had the courage to hand her something so directly without that same detestable guilt and apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t understand why you are so nice to me, when you’re clearly also using me for gain.” she repeated, like a fool.

Hamza’s eyes widened a fraction, his body freezing completely by the tiny cabinet they used as a shoerack.

“You think I can’t tell,” she laughed without any humour. “that I’m too naïve to suspect anything – and I was, until recently. It’s all so obvious to me now.” She pulled the cone out of the plastic, looking down at it with an undecipherable gaze. “At least my father is consistent, all you ever do is pull yourself away and then push back again.”

“Yalina, what do you even mean?” He asked, a tremor hidden in his voice; barely noticeable, even to her.

Don’t blow it, you’ve managed to hold on for so long, don’t ruin it. A voice whispered in her mind and brought some semblance of clarity in it. Her gaze flickered and turned to look at him.

There was still a chance to salvage the situation, and even though she felt way too tired, she had to fix it. She couldn’t let a momentary loss of control destroy this miraculous chance she had been given.

“I asked you if you were using me as well,” her voice felt distant, as if it was someone else speaking and not her. “and you just stayed silent.”

Mohabbat toh sirf maine ki thi na, she remembered herself saying from a long time ago, back when she had still hoped that he would prove her wrong and at least tell her that he did love her despite everything else, that he didn’t just see her as a tool to strengthen his cover.

“I wanted to,” he replied while taking a step forward. “but you were not in the state to listen.”

“Then tell me now.”

Best to get it over with. She had created this mess, so she needed to fix it even if she had to be reminded of the bitter truth again.

Hamza moved to stand in front of her. For a long time he just looked down at her in silence. Yalina no longer dared to look at him and averted her gaze, forcing herself to focus on the cold sensation of the ice cream in her hand. Then, very slowly, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled himself down to look into her eyes. “I’ll admit it.”

She blinked in surprise.

“I did approach you because you were Jameel Jamali’s daughter. Even that night when we first spoke, it was me who made SP Maqsood call a raid. I had messed with your car’s engine and made sure that no one but me could pull you out of that mess.”

She felt herself stiffen in his hold. He looked too uncanny while speaking like this; his eyes completely blank and face completely stoic. It felt like, like he wasn’t even himself anymore.

“It was all planned. The words I spoke to you while walking you home, handing over you your phone, the flirting, everything.” He drew himself back and looked down at her the same impassive face and blank gaze. “I understand if you wish to leave. I’ll handle your father and I won’t let him put you through anything you don’t want to do.”

After finishing he stepped back, creating a wide gap between the two. There was no sound except for the distant noise of the bustling streets of Lyari drifting in through the window. Yalina took in a deep breath, trying to process everything she just heard. There were several questions running through her mind, but she focused on voicing the one which mattered the most right now.

“And?”

Hamza frowned briefly, if Yalina had not been staring at him intently, she would have definitely missed it. However that brief look was soon replaced with that blank gaze again, somehow more intense than before. “I don’t understand what you mean.” he said monotonously.

She didn’t know what she meant by it either. “I mean,” she paused trying to figure out what she wanted to convey. “what exactly was your plan by doing all this?”

"I told you, I want to rule over Karachi. Naturally it’s easy with your father by my side.”

Yalina shook her head roughly. “No. No." She paused, biting the inside of her cheeks as she tried to ground herself. "My father is the most treacherous man I know. He’s climbed up the ranks and reached where he has by being nothing more than a sell-out. You didn’t have to marry me just to get his allegiance.”

“But it is the cherry on top, isn’t it?” He smiled without any of the usual softness or genteel humor behind it; It was all bitter and cold.

“But it’s always been me who’s been pushing for marriage! You- you’ve never even considered it before I brought it up!” She spoke, desperation lining her voice. 

“Who am I to deny when you were offering yourself up on a platter?” He answered with contempt.

It should’ve provoked her into lashing out, but it didn’t. It did the opposite actually, all of her panic and fluster from Hamza’s sudden confession disappeared. All of a sudden, she felt like she could see everything clearly, from the beginning to the end.

Hamza was too calm. Eerily so. He had been clearly caught off guard by her words, and yet, he was far too calm right now. Even that night when she had discovered the truth and confronted him, he had not been so calm despite trying desperately.

Hamza was calm only when he believed that he was in full control of the situation.

Which meant only one thing – that whatever he was doing right now, it had a purpose.

Yalina grabbed him by the lapels and harshly yanked him down, bringing them on the same eye level. She spoke slowly, tasting her words as a thought started to take its place in her mind.  “If you are trying to get rid of me…then prepare to fail.”

A flicker of hesitation flashed in his eyes briefly before his eyes went blank again. The fact that he stayed silent even after this just solidified her conviction.

“Tell me Hamza,” She gripped his salwar tighter. “are you trying to get rid of me because you feel guilty for dragging me into your mess? Because I am an innocent girl in your eyes, and I don’t deserve to have my life destroyed?”

She felt him try to pull away but she tightened her grip, the nails digging in the fabric. “Because if so, then you are really fucking stupid.”

He just stayed silent. It was frustrating, but thankfully familiar. Hamza tended to retreat into the corner when pushed, reverting to a façade and repressing all emotion. All she had to do was pull him out of the corner and then let him do the rest.

She loosened her grip on him. She stepped back and took in a deep breath.

“I know that you aren’t perfect or completely innocent, and honestly, I don't even care that you approached me selfishly; as long as you truly love me and care for me.” She kept her gaze onto his, unwilling to look away for even a moment. The only way to understand Hamza was through his eyes; she couldn’t lose this, not now. “You think that if you successfully push me out of your life, I'll be happy? You're wrong.”

She spoke softly, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Not just because I love you too much to be happy without you, but also because I have no one else to protect me. You saw what happened today. If I return now, then the next person my father will sell me to is probably Zarwari sahab's son or some other politician or businessman's son. Maybe not even that; maybe I'll share my mother's fate and have to marry some man who's twice or thrice my age and live out the rest of my life in misery. Can't you see, Hamza? I just want you to love me sincerely. I don't care about anything else; I've never had the privilege of caring for anything else.” Her voice rose sharply.

“If you insist that I don't matter to you at all, then I'll leave this instant. But if I do matter, then stop pushing me away, and stop pulling away from me. Just stay. Please, just stay. I won't question your motives; I won't ask any hard questions. I'll stay if you stay." She finished, her chest heaving.

Hamza stayed silent, his gaze undecipherable. Meanwhile, she prayed to every god in existence that her hastily constructed speech had worked on him. The silence stretched over for a long time; he did not answer and she did not push him for any. Then slowly, excruciatingly so, he stepped forward. They were standing so close now, barely an inch between them. Then he slowly raised his arms and paused before wrapping them around her. Unlike the other times, his grip on her was tight. Yalina finally relaxed; it had worked. 

“I was disheartened at my father’s behaviour, not at yours,” she mumbled into his chest, desperate to reassure him.

“I thought it was my words,” he answered awkwardly, his voice gruff.

She pulled away to look up at him. “I’m not an idiot Hamza. I could understand what you were doing and the why behind it. I was simply disappointed at my father’s behaviour.”

“I don’t know if I should be worried about your endless tolerance towards me or not,” he quietly muttered. 

“Why would that worry you? Shouldn’t you feel lucky instead?” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. However, Hamza did not return the smile. He stared at her silently before nodding. He squeezed her shoulder lightly before stepping away from her.

Gently taking the ice cream cone and the plastic bag out of her hands, he headed to the kitchen. She shut her eyes and took in a few deep breaths to regulate herself while she heard him open the refrigerator and place the plastic bag inside.

legs feeling stiff, she walked over to the bed and sat down. Soon, Hamza came out with a glass in his hand.

“Paani peelo,” he said quietly while handing the glass to her. He sat down beside her as she tilted her head back to drink.

“Will you be going back to your father’s house and stay there until the wedding?” He asked, an unnoticeable trace of exhaustion lining his voice.

Yalina shuddered as she put her hand down. “No way, especially after what I heard today.”

Hamza turned to face her with an amused smile. “He won’t like it.”

“Don’t care,” she answered nonchalantly, tracing the rim of the glass with her fingertips. “I’ll just visit to plan the wedding; I won’t be able to sleep for the next few months in peace if I move back in.”   

Hamza nodded in reply.

The silence that spread between them afterwards felt awkward, though Yalina felt that it was only from her side; Hamza seemed lost in his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started, watching Hamza snap out of the daze he’d been in. “about getting a degree. In medicine.” She spoke hesitantly, suddenly shy.

In her previous life she had gone to college, but she had only studied a basic science course and only because Hamza had forced her.

She had been far more interested in becoming a wife and a mother – to live a life she had missed out on, to make up for her own childhood. It wasn’t until their mansion had started to feel like a prison that she regretted letting go of her initial dream.

She had long known that her mother would not let her pursue a career, much less one in medicine, and soon she did not even have the will to fight anymore; her priorities shifted from fulfilling the grand ambition of becoming a doctor to simply getting out of the house.

Hamza’s eyes brightened and Yalina felt herself relax.

“That’s a great idea. I’ve always wanted you to finish your education and get a degree,” He said with a small smile.

“I’ve been thinking of becoming a pediatrician,” She muttered, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I like children, and I think I’ll enjoy it. Plus, It will give me a proper reason to stay away from my father’s house.”

She knew that Hamza would never discourage her from following her dreams, nor ever mock her for having them, but she still couldn’t stop herself from bracing for his reaction.

“It’s perfect for you,” He said, his smile widening. “You’re great with children. I’ve seen it first-hand. You’d make a great doctor.”

Yalina grabbed his hand and squeezed it, even though what she really wanted to do was jump into his arms and kiss him. Baby steps, she chanted inside her head. She wasn’t ready to start initiating again.

“Then I’ll speak to my father today, okay? I already have a college in mind, although its not Islamabad, studying in Karachi isn’t bad either.”

Hamza wilted slightly and Yalina had to stifle a laugh threatening to spill out. “You can go study in Islamabad if you want,” He said gently.

Yalina shook her head. “I want to stay by your side. Besides, It’s better to study here I’ll have you to take care of me, won’t I? If I go to Islamabad, then I’ll be all alone.”

Hamza rolled his eyes before smiling at her in amusement. “You do need someone to watch over you.”

He then leaned in and kissed her gently. It was soft and chaste, and Yalina felt a warmth spread inside her chest. He slowly pulled back and nosed at her flushed cheeks before his phone rang out. With a curse, he stood up and walked over to the balcony.

And Yalina, still on the bed, dazed from the kiss, let herself hope freely. For the first time it felt like that the long narrow road in front of her wasn't quite as shrouded in darkness as she had thought.

Author's Notes:

this is mostly the end of the angst heavy arc because i think yalina's insecurities have been mostly assuaged? Also im sick of my blorbos being sad. The next chapter is the wedding + rehman dakaits death & its aftermath so there's definitely going to be fluff and hurt/comfort! I really enjoyed writing the entire dilemma Yalina has after she overhears the exchange between her father and Hamza, even though writing it was so hard. Do I think that Jameel is as bad as Yalina sees him right now? nah but I still think its hella shity that he just agreed without even asking her properly, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt considering that he knows about Jaskirat. Hopefully he knew that Jaskirat is a sweet boi who wouldn't abuse his daughter because of Sanyal, otherwise him selling off his daughter just to save his own mission is so much worse than Hamza honey trapping Yalina to use her. Honestly, I would love to one day write a fic which explores Jameel's POV because I want to desperately study and understand his character. He clearly loves his daughter but has such a selfish and complex way of showing it. Also I am kind of dubious about whether the entire confrontation scene in the first half of the chapter was written or concluded well or not so I would feel great if y'all shared ur thoughts!!! <3 taglist: @ib-gremlin @sunxister21 @theshadowdivasblog @bway43 @luvmaii @woolgatheringgg

head canon: over the years, hamza would mutter bits of punjabi & yalina picked up on it, even learning some herself thus triggering hamza here.

with all the hamlina edits/angst i needed sum fluff soo girl dad hamza next!? maybe?..

this is hamza btw

different from my usual writing but tagging my fic list anyway:

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ @zoyslair 𝜗𝜚˚⋆