22. Fates changed, finally.

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Her lips trembled as she removed her frock, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Turning on the shower, she screamed as the cold water hit her back, the open wound stinging fiercely. Tears streamed down her face, the pain unbearable. Her vision began to blur, she pounded on the door and yelled, "Khaan!" Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

Within seconds, Almeer was inside the washroom with her, his eyes immediately locking onto hers. He didn't move an inch, his worry etched deeply on his face. The sight of her suffering was like a knife to his heart.

"Gudiya? Theek ho tum?" he asked, his voice trembling with concern as he grasped her trembling hand.

"It... it hurts..." she barely managed to let out, her voice weak and strained. Almeer's eyes scanned her face, trying to figure out where she was hurt. The vulnerability in her eyes, the sheer agony she was enduring, made his chest tighten.

Seeing her in such pain shattered him. He gently pulled her out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her shivering body. He could feel the tremors coursing through her, each one a testament to the torture she was experiencing. He carefully turned her around.

"Where does it..." Almeer's words trailed off as he caught sight of the mirror and saw the gruesome open wound on her back, as if her flesh had been brutally slashed. Horror and rage filled his heart, but he had to be strong for her. He held Aynoor's shoulders and pulled her closer to himself, his touch gentle but firm.

"Please... Khan... make it stop," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. Her pain was unbearable, and it tore at Almeer's soul. He took a deep breath, pushing down his own anguish, and tried to calm the storm within him.

"Meri jaan, look at me," he said softly, cupping her tear-streaked cheeks in his hands. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, his touch tender and soothing. "You will wait for me here, and I will be back in a moment, understand?" His voice was steady as he caressed her cheeks, his eyes never leaving hers. He wanted her to feel his presence, his unwavering support.

Aynoor shook her head, holding onto Almeer's hands tightly, her fear palpable. "Nahi, please, Khan. Please don't go. Please don't leave me..." She cried, her grip desperate and pleading.

Almeer sighed, his heart breaking at her plea. He gently pushed her damp hair behind her ear and hugged her without putting pressure on her wounded back. "Noori..." he whispered, caressing her hair. "Do you really think I would leave you?" His voice was soft and filled with love. He placed tender kisses on her damp hair, trying to comfort her. "I can't leave you, even if I wanted to. Mere bas mein ab raha nahi hai kuch, meri jaan." He smiled sadly, his own eyes glistening with tears.

He reluctantly detached himself from her, making her look at him once more. "Now be a good girl and wait for me, yeah?" he said, smiling to reassure her. Aynoor nodded hesitantly, her eyes still filled with fear but also with trust in him.

»»---->

Almeer returned with a first aid box in hand, his movements purposeful yet gentle. He scanned the room and, not seeing Aynoor, made his way towards the washroom. Pausing at the door, he knocked lightly, calling out softly, "Noor?"

"Ji?" came her immediate response, filled with a mix of relief and lingering pain. Almeer sighed deeply, comforted by her voice. He reached inside the room without looking, holding out a shirt from his closet.

"Wear this, from the front," he instructed, keeping his eyes respectfully averted as her hand reached out to take the shirt.

"Mai yaha hi hu. Wear this and call me when you're done," he reassured her. She responded with a hum, the sound filled with trust.

Inside the washroom, Aynoor looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wore the shirt as he had instructed, her fingers trembling slightly. As Almeer's scent enveloped her, a wave of warmth and safety washed over her, momentarily dulling the pain.

»»---->

Meanwhile, Almeer sat on the bed, his head resting against the bedrest. His damp clothes clung to his body, his hair tousled and wet. His blue eyes were closed, but the worry and pain etched on his face were unmistakable.

Aynoor bit her lower lip, her heart heavy with guilt for causing him such distress. She didn't want to be a source of worry for him.

"Khan..." she called softly. His eyes opened slowly, the deep blue of his gaze meeting her brown eyes, a storm of emotions crashing between them.

"Come here," Almeer said, his voice gentle as he opened his arms to her. Aynoor walked towards him, her steps hesitant but filled with longing. Instead of sitting on the bed, she settled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. The proximity of his warmth offered a sense of solace, a shield against the world.

Almeer held her close, his hands steady as he began to tend to her wound. He worked meticulously, his touch tender and precise. The process was slow and methodical, each stitch a testament to his care and dedication. He didn't call for a doctor; he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else, man or woman, seeing his wife in this vulnerable state. Besides, he had learned the basics of medical care-an essential skill for a 'Murshid.'

For an entire hour, Almeer worked on stitching her wound, his focus unwavering. Aynoor sat quietly, her body leaning into his for support. Despite the pain, she felt a profound sense of peace. His presence was her refuge, his touch her healing balm.

Each stitch was a silent vow, a promise of protection and unwavering support. In that intimate silence, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, Aynoor knew she was safe. She was home.

»»---->

What had captivated him to this extent? She was everywhere. He could see her in every person, the way she laughed, the way her lips moved, the way she gestured with her hands while talking, the way she blinked-everything, every single thing about her drove him to the edge of madness. Her essence was imprinted in his mind, an obsession that consumed him entirely.

He smiled at the pictures he had taken of her, candid moments she wasn't aware of. She didn't need to know about them either; people often called this kind of love crazy. But is it really love if it isn't at least a little bit crazy? He caressed the picture with the pad of his thumb, his eyes reflecting a madness that was more dangerous than passionate.

"Only if you did not belong to that family of scoundrels...my hayaat," he murmured, the intensity in his voice chilling. He was lost in his thoughts when a knock on the door jolted him back to reality. Irritation flared in his eyes as he turned off his phone, clearing his throat.

"Aajao," he called out. The door opened to reveal his younger brother, Zartaab.

"Bhai, aapne bulaya?" Zartaab asked hesitantly. Shadaab nodded, motioning for him to sit down in front of him.

"Haan bulaya, baith jaao yaha," Shadaab instructed, his tone calm but with an underlying tension. Zartaab obeyed, his expression a mixture of confusion and unease. Shadaab's face, however, was hard with suppressed anger.

"Yaad hai jab Amma ne puucha tha Kamal ki zimedaari kon uthaayega?" Shadaab began, his voice edged with bitterness. Zartaab shifted uncomfortably in his seat but nodded.

"Toh phir ye bhi yaad hoga k tumne Hamdaan ko roka tha kyun ki TUMHE lagta tha k Hamdaan mai bachpana hai aur wo Kamal ki zimedaari k laayak nahi hai?" Shadaab continued, his gaze piercing through Zartaab's defenses. The younger brother squirmed under the weight of Shadaab's intense scrutiny, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

Zartaab's heart raced as he struggled to maintain eye contact. "Haan, Bhai. Mujhe laga tha ke Hamdaan zimedaar nahi hai..." he stammered, his voice trailing off as he tried to justify his past actions.

Shadaab leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Aur ab? Tumhe kya lagta hai? Tumne jo faisla liya tha wo sahi tha?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of his barely contained fury.

"Beti maanta hu usko mai, Hamdaan ke liye bhi wo choti behan jaisi hai. Infact, is ghar ko pagal khana ban ne se rok rakha hai usne." Shadaab's voice was firm, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disappointment. He leaned closer to Zartaab, his intensity almost palpable. "Tum se apni li hui zimedaari sambhal nahi rahi? What do you think is so hard? Bachi hai wo, Zartaab. Pyaar se do baatein kar lo gy us se toh khush rahegi wo."

Zartaab could feel the weight of his brother's words, the frustration that was now boiling over. He looked down, the realization of his mistake sinking in deeper. "Jaanta hu mai, bhai," he replied, his voice small and laden with guilt.

Shadaab shook his head, his anger not abating. "Jaante toh ye sab nahi karte!" he retorted, his voice rising. Zartaab looked up, a mix of frustration and confusion in his eyes.

"Mera bhi toh sochein, mai kaise accept karlu ye sab?" Zartaab protested, his voice wavering.

Shadaab stood up abruptly, his towering figure casting a shadow over his younger brother. "Zartaab! Bache nahi ho tum! Get over yourself and keep her happy." His voice was stern, filled with the authority of an elder brother who expected better.

"Par bhai!!!" Zartaab was desperate, his tone pleading, but Shadaab's patience had run out.

"I said what I said, leave now." Shadaab's voice was final, brooking no argument.

Zartaab stood there for a moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken emotions. He realized there was no room for further discussion.

»»---->

YOUSOUFZAI HAVELI.

"MIL GAYI KHUSHI AAPKO? MIL GAYI ZAMEEN-JAYEDAAD? KYA MILA? MERA BETA MUJH SE CHEEN LIYA AAPNE!!" Yamaan's mother wailed, her voice echoing through the vast hall of the Yousoufzai haveli. She crumpled beside the lifeless body of Shajar Yousoufzai, her cries filled with an anguish that seemed to shake the very walls.

"Amma saayein! Khud ko sambhalein!!" Talayah pleaded, holding on to her mother tightly, even as her own heart shattered into a million pieces. The sight of her grandfather's body, riddled with bullets, and her brother lying paralyzed, was a nightmare she couldn't escape from.

Almeer Khan had left his mark, a brutal testament to his wrath. Eight bullets had torn through Shajar Yousoufzai's chest, ensuring his demise was as inevitable as it was violent. Yamaan, too, had not been spared-Almeer had shot him in the neck, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down, a living reminder of the day's carnage.

Basharat Yousoufzai stood amidst the chaos, silently observing the ruins of his family. The burial ceremony for his sister had been overshadowed by the violence that erupted in the haveli. Two deaths on the same day, and now the crippling injury of his son-his world had been irrevocably changed.

The weight of responsibility bore down on him. He had lived a life of ignorance, perpetuating a cycle of violence and hatred. Now, looking at the devastation around him, he saw the legacy of blood and vengeance that he and his father had left behind.

"Saayein, janaze ka waqt ho gaya hai...." one of his men whispered, breaking through the screams and sobs that filled the air. A chilling silence followed as Basharat nodded, acknowledging the grim duty that lay ahead.

He walked towards his father's corpse, his steps heavy with the burden of realization. He stopped, turning to face his people, the remnants of his shattered family. His voice, though quiet, carried the weight of his newfound resolve.

"Ye faisla aapki maujudgi mai karna chahta hu....." he whispered, his eyes flickering between his father's lifeless body and the faces of his people. "Tad-feen se laut te hue hamare saare dearon ko aag laga dena. Aaj ke baad is haveli mai khoon, qatl, daulat, zameen, jayedaad ki baat nahi hogi."

His words hung in the air, a solemn vow to end the cycle of violence and greed that had plagued his family for generations. The men around him nodded in agreement, understanding the gravity of his decree.

As they prepared to lay Shajar Yousoufzai to rest, a new era dawned upon the Yousoufzai haveli. Basharat hoped that, in the ashes of their past, they could find a way to rebuild-not with blood and betrayal, but with peace and reconciliation.

»»---->

"Bas kardo Khanum!" Dilawer Khan's voice was edged with irritation. Her constant sobbing since morning had grated on his nerves, turning his usual patience to frustration.

"Kaise bass kardu? Aapko andaaza hai ke mere dil par kya beet rahi hai?" Khanum's voice was filled with pain and anger, her eyes red and swollen from hours of crying.

"Toh kya chahti ho tum? Kya karta wo? Maaf kar deta unko jinho ne uski izzat pe haat daala?" Dilawer Khan's tone was defensive, his brows knitting together as he tried to reason with her. But Khanum shook her head vehemently, her anguish spilling over.

"Maine ye toh nahi kaha. Par 8 qatl karke aaya hai wo!" She shivered at the thought of her son's actions, the cold reality of it seeping into her bones. The image of his blood-stained hands haunted her.

"Un mein se ek bhi shakhs be-gunaah nahi tha!" Dilawer Khan replied, his voice firm. Yet Khanum's eyes reflected a painful understanding, a resigned acceptance of their harsh world.

"Jaanti hu mai. Sab jaanti hu." Her voice was barely a whisper, a painful smile tugging at her lips.

"Agar sab jaanti ho toh ye sab maatam kyu machaya hua hai?" His frustration reached its peak, unable to comprehend her endless mourning. He needed her to see reason, to understand the necessity of their son's actions.

"Soch rahi hu, mera wo beta jisne apne bhai ka khoon maaf kardiya wo aaj 8 logon ka qatl kar aaya......aur uske chehre par ek shikan nahi thi." Her voice trembled as she spoke, the weight of her words pressing heavily on her heart. She remembered her son's face, cold and unfeeling, a stark contrast to the boy who once forgave so easily.

Dilawer Khan sighed deeply, taking her hand in his. He looked into her eyes, his own softened with understanding. His voice, though soft, carried the strength of his conviction.

"Ek mard apni muhabbat ke liye kuch bhi kar sakta hai." His words hung in the air, a bittersweet truth that resonated deeply within her. He was right; love could drive a man to the edge of sanity, pushing him to commit acts he would otherwise find unthinkable.

Khanum nodded slowly, her tears still falling but her sobs quieting. She knew the world they lived in, a world where survival often meant taking lives. Yet, the transformation in her son shook her to her core.

Dilawer Khan pulled her into a comforting embrace, his hand stroking her hair gently. "Wo abhi bhi hamara beta hai. Uska dil abhi bhi wahi hai, sirf usne apne pyar ko bachaane ke liye yeh sab kiya hai."

His words offered a small solace, a glimmer of hope that her son's heart hadn't completely hardened. Khanum closed her eyes, clinging to that hope, and to the man who understood the torment she felt.

»»---->

"Dard toh nahi ho raha na?" Almeer asked her for the nth time, his voice tinged with concern. Aynoor, exasperated, made a sour face and playfully punched him in the chest.

"Kya hogya hai, Khan! Aap toh peeche he padd gaye hain mere!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with feigned annoyance. Almeer couldn't help but smile at her antics, his heart swelling with affection.

"Arey bhai, bhalai ka toh zamana he nahi raha," he gasped dramatically, holding a hand to his chest as if deeply wounded. Aynoor gave him a look, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

"Dekh rahi hu din-ba-din aapke natak badhte he jaa rahe hain," she said, flipping her hair and looking up at the sky. Almeer chuckled and gently grabbed her face, turning it towards him. He placed loud, exaggerated kisses on both of her cheeks, making her giggle.

Meanwhile, Yazdaan stood at the door of the terrace, a bitter smile playing on his lips. This was his sanctuary, the place he came to every night to find some semblance of peace. But tonight, the sound of unexpected chatter and laughter reached his ears. Without even looking, he knew who it was. Only the two of them, Aynoor and Almeer, could create such a joyful bubble in a house otherwise filled with wounds and sorrow.

He stepped a little closer, his heart aching for a glimpse of her. What he saw tugged at his heartstrings, causing his grip on the mug of tea to tighten. Aynoor and Almeer sat on the cot under a thick blanket, cuddled up to each other as if the rest of the world didn't matter.

Their laughter floated through the cool night air, a melody of pure, unadulterated love and happiness. Almeer was gently brushing a strand of hair away from Aynoor's face, his eyes filled with an intensity that spoke volumes. She leaned into his touch, her face lighting up with a smile that reached her eyes, a smile that was reserved only for him.

The moment Almeer kissed both of her cheeks, a hearty laugh escaped Aynoor's lips. For a fleeting moment, Yazdaan hated them both. He hated Almeer for having the girl he loved, and he hated Aynoor for not seeing anyone or anything beyond Almeer.

"Ek din," he whispered to himself, a promise and a hope. "Ek din, shayad meri bhi kahani aisi hogi."

"Kitni baatein karti ho tum!!" Almeer exclaimed, putting his hands over his ears in mock exasperation. Aynoor made a playful crying face and whined.

"KHAN! Mujhe baatein karni hai aapse bohat saari. Sunein naaa!!" She pulled his hands off his ears, her eyes pleading.

"Aaj k liye kaafi hogya na... mujhe neend bhi aarahi hai, Noori," Almeer said, looking into her eyes. She flushed slightly and looked away, but resisted.

"Nahi na, mujhe abhi bohat kuch bolna hai!" she protested, looking up at the sky.

Almeer held her hand and guided her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Jaldi kya hai? Saari zindagi padhi hai tumhari saari baatein sun lunga mai," he said, caressing her hand. She looked at their intertwined hands and nodded.

For a moment, she was quiet, then spoke up again. "Aap kabhi kuch kyu nahi bolte?" she asked, her eyes searching his face.

His expression turned serious as he straightened up. "Kuch kehna toh hai mujhe bhi...." His voice was uncertain.

"Kya bolna hai aapne?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Kuch chupaya hai maine tumse, Noor," he said gravely. Her smile faded, her heart pounding as she waited for him to continue.

"Your parents are no more, Noor. In fact, they died a few years ago."

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I don't know!!! Say something!! Do you like where this is going???

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