20 - to love is to suffer.

Almeer Khan stood there, staring at his phone. The video kept playing over and over again, each replay a dagger to his heart. He looked at the trail of blood that belonged to his Aynoor as if it was the last thing he was ever going to see. Her pain, her suffering—it consumed him. He felt paralyzed, unable to move or think.

Dilawer Khan was equally furious, his hands trembling as he dialed numbers, trying to get a clue about Aynoor's whereabouts. The Yousoufzai family—they knew it had to be them.

"Bache, aap honsla rakhein. Hum dhoondh lenge usey," Dilawer Khan reassured Almeer, his voice a fragile thread of hope. Almeer finally snapped out of his trance and looked at his father. For a moment, Dilawer Khan gasped at what he saw in Almeer’s eyes.

Fear. Raw, unfiltered fear. He was terrified of not seeing her ever again, terrified that one dumb mistake would destroy everything. He realized, with agonizing clarity, that life was nothing without her. He was haunted by the thought that she was in pain because of him, because of his carelessness.

His heart ached with regret, and he felt his world collapsing around him. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he clenched his fists, channeling his fear and guilt into a fierce determination.

"Abu, I need to find her…” Almeer whispered to his father, his voice barely audible, laden with helplessness and desperation.

“We will! I promise, and those worthless bastards will regret it,” Dilawer Khan said, his nostrils flaring with anger and determination. He then yelled, “Ali Baksh!”

Ali Baksh appeared promptly, and Dilawer Khan instructed, “Sab ko ghar le kar chalo, hum aatein hain.” Ali Baksh nodded and motioned for everyone to head towards the car.

Almeer sat down on the grass, staring blankly at a puddle of mud, his mind numb with despair. Ahad approached and sat beside him, trying to console his friend. “Almeer, she will be fine. Please, khud ko sambhalo. Your dad can't do it alone; you have to help him find her.”

Almeer remained silent, lost in his thoughts. Ahad continued, “She is hoping you will find her and save her. If not for her, do it for yourself… Can you live your life if anything happens to her?”

Almeer looked up, his eyes meeting Ahad’s. For a fraction of a second, Ahad was taken aback by the depth of pain and fear he saw there, but then he smiled softly. “She wants you to save her,” he said gently.

A tear escaped Almeer’s eyes, and his hands began to tremble. Ahad, seeing his friend like this for the first time, felt a pang of empathy and continued to assure him, “You will find her, Almeer. You will bring her back.

Almeer closed his eyes, his mind flooded with images of how he had imagined Aynoor’s reaction, her scolding him with that familiar mix of anger and love. But now, everything was silent, the joyful scenes replaced by a harrowing void.

“She was supposed to be angry, wasn’t she? Will she still be?” he asked Ahad, his voice barely a whisper. Ahad, usually quick with a reassuring word, found himself at a loss, silence stretching between them.

“I caused her pain… Mai nahi jaanta tha ye hojaayega, Ahad. Trust me,” Almeer’s voice trembled, his lips dry and chapped.

“I know, Almeer. But now you have to protect her or you’ll lose her forever…” Ahad’s words pierced through Almeer’s despair, igniting a fierce determination in his chest.

Almeer took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. He stood up, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number with a new sense of purpose. There was no room for doubt anymore. He had to find Aynoor. He had to bring her back.

»»————>

“Is there a girl in the basement?” Talayah asked Yamaan, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. Yamaan snarled in response, turning away to walk towards his room. Talayah, refusing to be brushed aside, ran to him and grasped his bicep.

“Bhai, aap bhi baba aur dada saayein jaise toh naa banein!” she pleaded, her eyes searching his for any sign of compassion. But Yamaan refused to meet her gaze.

“Haath chordo mera…” Yamaan said, his voice dripping with coldness that sent a chill down Talayah's spine. But she knew that what was happening was wrong. For the sake of her supposed happiness, her brother and father were ruining another girl’s life, and she couldn’t accept that.

“Bhai, please. This isn’t right. Think about what you’re doing,” she implored, her grip tightening. Yamaan yanked his arm away, his face twisted with anger.

“Tum nahi samjhogi, Talayah. Just stay out of this,” he snapped, turning away again.

“No, Bhai. I won’t stay out of this. This girl, she’s innocent. Just like you wouldn’t want me hurt, I can’t stand by and let this happen to her,” Talayah’s voice grew stronger, fueled by the injustice she felt.

Yamaan paused, his back still to her, conflicted emotions warring within him. Talayah’s words echoed in his mind.

“Just… stay out of it, Talayah,” he repeated, less forcefully this time.... But, she held onto her brother, her grip a desperate plea for understanding, hoping he might soften, hoping he might see that it wasn't a husband's love she craved, but the love of a brother and father. She longed for them to see her as a person, not an object of their responsibility.

“Bhai, kissi be-gunaah par zulm karenge toh Allah aapko maaf nahi karega, kuch toh khuda ka khauf karein…” she implored, her voice quivering with emotion. Yamaan met her gaze, his eyes cold and unyielding.

“Jin logon ne tumhe hazaaron baar thukraya jab unhe khuda ka khauf nahi toh mai kyu karu?” His tone was distant, a wall of indifference that broke Talayah's heart. Yet, she forced a smile, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Bhai… hisaab karne wala wo baitha haina? Wo dekh lega. Aap apni aakhirat tabaah naa karein.” Yamaan's eyes flickered for a moment, her words cutting through his defenses like a blade. Talayah's plea echoed in the empty chambers of his heart, challenging the beliefs he held so tightly.

Talayah looked at her brother one last time, her eyes a mixture of sorrow and hope, then turned and walked away. Yamaan stood rooted to the spot, the weight of her words pressing heavily on his conscience, as he watched his sister disappear from sight.

»»————>

“Have some fuckingggg food, damnit!” Yamaan yelled at Aynoor, who sat on the floor, her gaze fixed on the dirt. Her face seemed so relaxed, so serene, that it drove him mad. The calmness she exuded was like a slap to his fraying nerves, making him feel as if everything around him was turning to ashes. Or perhaps it was his conscience, the one he thought was long dead, clawing at the remnants of his humanity.

“Behri ho kya?? Ek baar mai baat samjhti nahi ho?” He grabbed her hand, shaking her slightly to make her look at him. The sudden fire in her eyes caught him off guard.

“Hands off me…” she seethed, her voice dripping with venom. Yamaan almost laughed at her audacity. He pulled her even closer, his face inches from hers, and sneered.

“You're literally pocket-sized, Little Miss Fireball. I can end you with a snap of my fingers.” He mocked her, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

She smiled at him, her torn lip bleeding slightly, the defiance in her gaze unwavering. The sight of her, battered yet unbroken, sent a shiver down his spine. For a moment, he saw not a victim but a force to be reckoned with, a beacon of strength in the face of his brutality. And that terrified him more than he cared to admit.

“Then. Do. It.” She mocked him, her eyes blazing with defiance. Yamaan was taken aback by the sheer audacity in her voice. Seeing the shock on his face, Aynoor smiled and laughed softly. “Fucking coward,” she whispered, her eyes glinting with taunts.

A surge of rage coursed through Yamaan's body. This little girl was pushing him to the edge, and her last words were a blow to his male ego that he couldn’t ignore. Unable to contain his fury, he slapped her hard, the sharp sound echoing through the room. Aynoor laughed, her neck slightly tilted to the side, her cheek burning and her eyes tearing up from the impact.

“Is this who you are? Oppressing women... Is this how you were raised? Don't you feel ashamed to call yourself a man?” Her words were like daggers, each one piercing his morals and ego. Yamaan, seething with rage, grabbed her hair and yanked her off the ground. In his blind fury, he didn’t notice the nail protruding from the wall behind her. As he pulled her up, the nail slashed across her back, leaving a long, deep cut.

Aynoor's scream echoed in the basement, piercing through the silence and making Yamaan flinch. He stared in shock at the trail of blood trickling down the floor.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked, trying to approach her, but she backed away towards the wall, her voice filled with agony and hatred. “Don’t come near me!!”

Irritation and an unfamiliar concern he refused to acknowledge began to simmer within Yamaan. “Let me have a look! You will fucking die from blood loss!” he yelled, his voice harsh but edged with a hint of worry.

Aynoor shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing with pure disgust. “I would rather die than let you look at me!” Her defiance was unwavering, her words dripping with contempt.

Yamaan was taken aback by the intensity of her loathing. Her eyes, filled with disdain and unyielding spirit, met his with a fierceness that made him falter. For the first time, he felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite name—regret, perhaps, or a realization of the monstrosity of his actions. But his anger and pride wouldn’t let him show it, he stood there, torn between his own turmoil.

“Mai Almeer Khan nahi hu, jo tumhare nakhre sahu! Stop being a brat or you’ll die here!” Yamaan seethed, reaching to pull her off the wall. Aynoor screamed and hit him continuously, her hands flailing in desperate defiance.

“Tum mere Khan ke paaon ki dhool bhi nahi ho!” she yelled, pushing him away with all the strength she could muster. Yamaan’s frustration boiled over, and he was about to force her to turn around when she suddenly went limp, fainting from the pain and exhaustion.

He stood there, breathing heavily, staring at her unconscious form. A mixture of rage and helplessness coursed through him. The room was eerily silent now, save for the soft sound of her labored breathing and the slow drip of blood on the cold, hard floor. The confrontation had shaken him in ways he hadn't anticipated, leaving him grappling with emotions he couldn’t quite comprehend.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

»»————>

“Hello? Kaun?” a male voice asked from the other side of the phone. She trembled, trying to control her sobs as she listened to her brother’s voice after sixteen long years. She knew they had loved her dearly, and she knew she had hurt them. But she also believed that they might forgive her.

“Arre bhai, kaun hai?” he asked again, now sounding irritated. She smiled at the familiarity of his impatience. Summoning all her courage, she finally spoke up.

“Lala…?” Her voice quivered.

The person on the other end froze for a moment. She heard a long, heartbreaking sigh. She hadn’t expected him to speak, but the fact that he didn’t end the call gave her a glimmer of hope.

“Aapko bohat yaad kiya maine, Lala. Aapko, amma saayein ko aur abba saayein ko bhi… Meri yaad bhi toh aati hogi na?” she asked, her tears flowing freely as she mentioned the people she held so dear.

“Lala… mai maafi nahi maangu gi kyu ki maine kuch galat nahi kiya lekin ab lagta hai k agar thoda sabr kar leti toh shayad apno ko na khoti. Maaf kardein Lala jaldbaazi karne ke liye…” she shivered, her legs shaking, probably because of the disease that was eating her alive. She sat on the balcony under the moonlit sky, its gentle light casting a serene glow around her. The cool night air whispered through the leaves, carrying her sigh with it.

“Phone kyu kiya hai ab? 16 saal baad? Koi rishta nahi baacha hai humara… Bhool gayi ho kya?” her brother asked. She smiled because she could hear that they were just empty words; his voice was also quivering.

“Lala… Meri zindagi ab kuch pal ki mehmaan hai. Meri gudiya ko yaha se le jaayein. Usey apna lein, Lala.” Her voice shook as she cried. He asked out of impatience and worry,

“Gudiya? Kya hua hai tumhe? Tumhara shohar kahan hai?” he asked. She looked at the sky, seeing him—the love of her life—smiling down at her. She smiled too and said,

“Wo bohat door chale gaye hain, Lala. Aur ek baar phir sab kuch peeche chord k mai unke paas jaana chahti hu. Mere bas mai nahi hai Lala, mai ruk nahi sakti… Meri gudiya ko sambhal lena. Uska khayal rakhna jaise aapne mera rakha tha.” Her voice was fragile, like a whisper carried by the wind.

Her brother’s silence was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“Wafaa??? Tum kahan ho mujhe batao sab theek hojaayega. Mai sab theek kardunga, tumhara bhai hai tumhare sath, mai-” he was still understanding the situation when she cut him off and said,

“Meri ek he beti hai, Lala. Khuda k baad uski zimedaari aapko de kar jaa rahi hu….. beeep… beeep”

Her voice trailed off as the connection was abruptly cut, leaving a hollow silence in the air.

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