36| The Act Is Over

T H E A C T I S O V E R

W O R D  C O U N T: 4395

Anaabiya stood at the edge of the garden, her arms loosely crossed as she watched the ongoing cricket match without really paying attention. Ever since Humza had left, her interest in the game had vanished. She wasn't one to play in the first place, but now, with him gone, she found herself completely distracted.

Her gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, anticipation building in her chest as she waited for him to return. It wasn't just longing—it was an unshakable pull, a silent yearning she couldn't quite name. He had a way of commanding attention without even trying, of drawing her in with nothing but his presence. It wasn't her fault, she reasoned. Anyone would be just as mesmerized.

But as time passed and there was still no sign of him, her excitement dulled into impatience. She tapped her foot against the ground, her frustration growing with each passing minute.

Beyond her restlessness, another weight sat heavy on her heart—one that had been gnawing at her all morning. She had overslept and missed Fajr. The thought unsettled her deeply, leaving behind an uneasy void she couldn't ignore. No matter how much she tried to push it aside, she knew her soul craved the peace that came with prayer.

With a quiet sigh, she cast one last glance at the entrance before finally turning away. If Humza wasn't back yet, there was no point in waiting. Right now, she had something far more important to do.

"Nabiha, that's enough for today. You need to rest—you're pushing yourself too much," Anaabiya said gently, placing a hand on her sister's arm.

Nabiha huffed, clearly reluctant. "But Aapi, I'm fine. I don't want to rest yet," she protested, though there was no real resistance in her voice.

Anaabiya arched a brow. "No arguments. Come on."

With a dramatic sigh, Nabiha finally gave in and followed her inside. As they walked through the hallway, her face suddenly lit up with excitement. "Aapi, I love it here," she admitted, her voice carrying an unmistakable warmth.

Anaabiya's lips curved into a smile, something deep within her chest softening. "And I'm so happy to have you here," she chuckled, giving her sister a sideways glance.

There was a brief pause before Nabiha spoke again, her tone shifting ever so slightly. "Aapi... Humza bhai loves you a lot. I can see it," she said, her voice sincere. "I'm glad you gave him a chance."

Anaabiya stopped mid-step, her breath catching for a moment. A strange, unfamiliar warmth crept up her neck, settling into her cheeks. Was it that obvious?

Clearing her throat, she quickly resumed walking, leading the way to their shared room. As soon as they stepped inside, she turned to Nabiha, trying to compose herself. "I'm going to pray. You go take a bath," she instructed.

Thankfully, Nabiha didn't argue. With a small nod, she disappeared into the washroom, leaving Anaabiya alone with her thoughts and the quiet pounding of her heart.

Anaabiya finished her prayer, the serenity of the moment settling deep within her. But just as she lowered her hands, a sharp crash shattered the silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of Humza's furious voice. The sheer intensity of it sent a jolt through her body.

Her heart lurched as another loud smash echoed through the house, the sound bouncing off the walls like a warning. Without a second thought, she found herself moving, her feet carrying her towards the source of the commotion like a lost puppy drawn to familiarity.

Her frown deepened with every hurried step. Was everything alright?

As she neared the staircase, the yelling grew louder, his voice cutting through the air with a raw, serrated edge.

"You knew it all along, Mother!" Humza's voice boomed, thick with anguish beneath the fury.

Anaabiya's breath hitched. There was something different about his tone—not just anger, but something deeper, something fractured. Her heartbeat quickened, a cold wave of unease washing over her.

She glanced around the foyer, but there was no one in sight. The emptiness made the scene even more unsettling. Another violent crash followed, the unmistakable shattering of glass against the floor. Her stomach twisted.

What was happening?

Her hands trembled slightly as she turned towards the only room downstairs, the one from where the chaos erupted. The door stood before her like a threshold between the known and the unknown.

She hesitated just outside, her mind racing. Should she go in? Did she have the right to?

Her fingers hovered near the handle as she stood there, torn between fear and the undeniable pull to step inside.

Rafiya Aunty's voice trembled, thick with desperation. "Humza, please listen to me. This can be fixed. Just trust me."

But Humza's response came like a blade, sharp and merciless.

"No," he spat, his voice raw with betrayal. "Congratulations, Mother. You're the first woman in the world to destroy her own son." His laugh was hollow, devoid of warmth. "You took away the only chance I had at happiness."

The sheer agony in his voice twisted something deep inside Anaabiya's chest. He sounded so vulnerable, so utterly shattered that it was unbearable to hear.

She took a hesitant step forward, ready to enter, when the door suddenly burst open.

Humza stood before her, his eyes dark, stormy—consumed by something unreadable. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Anaabiya opened her mouth, but the words lodged in her throat, blocked by the heavy lump that had formed there.

"I—I..." she faltered, her gaze flickering past him to the room behind. It was in complete disarray, shattered glass and broken furniture strewn across the floor. Whatever had happened in there had left destruction in its wake.

Humza's eyes snapped back to hers, and for a fleeting second, something flickered in them—fear? But it was gone before she could place it. In its place, anger took root.

Without warning, his hands shot forward, gripping her arms in an ironclad hold, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, unrelenting.

"What did you hear?" His voice was low, but there was an underlying edge, a storm barely restrained.

Anaabiya winced at the force of his grip, her breath hitching. "Nothing... Humza, I swear," she stammered. "I just heard your voice, and I—I got worried."

For the briefest second, relief flickered across his face, so quick that she almost missed it. But just as fast, it vanished, replaced by something much darker.

His hold tightened slightly before he let go, his jaw clenching. His fury wasn't just anger—it was something unhinged, something dangerously close to breaking.

And for the first time, Anaabiya saw it—saw him.

Humza wasn't just angry.

He was a man on the verge of losing control.

Without sparing her a glance, Humza shoved her aside. Anaabiya stumbled, her balance wavering as she tried to steady herself. A sharp pang shot through her chest—not from the force of his push, but from the way he had done it. As if she were nothing more than an obstacle in his way.

Her gaze flickered toward the room, where Rafiya Aunty stood amidst the wreckage. Her eyes, swollen and red, were fixed on Anaabiya, reflecting the same fear Anaabiya had seen in Humza's moments ago.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

Humza turned on his heel and stormed off, his long strides eating up the distance in an instant.

Anaabiya's heart clenched. He was unraveling, and she couldn't—wouldn't—let him do it alone.

Without hesitation, she bolted after him.

"Humza, wait!" she called out, but he didn't even slow down.

Her breath came in short, shallow bursts as she raced up the stairs, skipping steps in an attempt to catch up. "Please, just stop for a second!" she pleaded, her voice breathless.

He didn't.

Instead, he reached his room in seconds, yanked the door open, and disappeared inside.

By the time Anaabiya reached it, the door was slammed shut—so fast, so forcefully, that she barely jumped back in time to avoid it hitting her face.

She stood there, staring at the closed door, her pulse thundering in her ears.

Humza was shutting her out.

But she wouldn't let him.

Anaabiya pressed her palm against the door, her voice barely above a whisper. "Humza, please open the door... let me in... please."

She hadn't even realized when a tear slipped down her cheek, tracing a warm path across her skin. She knocked again, firmer this time. "At least talk to me. Tell me what's wrong," she pleaded, her voice laced with desperation.

But the silence on the other side remained unbroken.

She waited. Minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Twenty-five minutes passed, and still, there was nothing.

A part of her wanted to keep trying, to demand that he let her in, to remind him that he wasn't alone. But another part of her—one that understood the depth of his torment—knew that he needed space.

She exhaled shakily, stepping back from the door. This wasn't the Humza she had come to know over the past few days. The man who teased her, who held her close as if she were something fragile, something cherished. That Humza had looked at her with warmth in his eyes, had whispered things that made her heart race.

But the man behind this door... he was someone else. Someone buried under the weight of his past, his rage, his suffering.

And it terrified her that she couldn't reach him.

Swallowing her disappointment, she turned away and made her way toward her own room.

Inside, Nabiha sat cross-legged on the bed, her expression lined with concern. The moment Anaabiya stepped in, Nabiha's gaze snapped to her. "What's wrong? I heard shouting."

Anaabiya hesitated before lowering herself beside her sister, fingers knotting together in her lap. "It's... complicated." She let out a slow breath. "I think Humza had a fight with his mother. He's locked himself in his room now."

Nabiha frowned. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know." Anaabiya's voice was barely above a whisper. "I want to believe he is. But..." Her throat tightened. "I don't know this version of him, Nabiha. The man I've been seeing these past few days—the one who makes me feel safe, who looks at me like I matter—this isn't him."

Nabiha studied her for a long moment before squeezing her hand. "Then remind him who he is."

Anaabiya nodded absently, but deep down, she wondered—would he even let her?

Nabiha watched Anaabiya carefully, her brows slightly furrowed. "Did you try talking to him?" she asked, her voice gentle yet probing.

Anaabiya sighed, folding a shirt and placing it neatly in the closet. "I did, but he wouldn't listen." Her voice held a trace of frustration, though she tried to mask it with distraction.

Nabiha exhaled, shaking her head. "Have you even told him yet?"

Anaabiya frowned, turning slightly. "Told him what?" Her hands kept moving, folding another piece of clothing, anything to keep herself busy.

"That you love him, Aapi," Nabiha stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The words struck Anaabiya like a bolt of lightning, making her pause mid-movement. A sudden warmth spread across her cheeks, and she quickly turned back to the closet, hoping to hide it. "No... but he must have understood by now. Isn't it obvious?" she muttered, pushing a neatly folded pile of clothes further inside.

Nabiha rolled her eyes. "You do realize not everything has to be some unspoken understanding, right? Just tell him. It'll make him happy, and maybe he'll forget whatever's upsetting him."

Anaabiya swallowed, her fingers tightening around the fabric in her hands. Nabiha had a point. It would make him happy. And yet, the mere thought of saying it out loud made her chest tighten. What if she ruined everything? What if she wasn't ready to hear what he felt in return?

A sudden wave of nervousness washed over her, making her feel unsteady. "I'll... I'll make him something to eat first," she mumbled, using the excuse to escape the conversation. Before Nabiha could argue, she hurried out of the room, heading toward the kitchen, her heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come.

On her way to the kitchen, Anaabiya paused outside Rafiya Aunty's room, contemplating whether to check on her. Peeking inside, she found the older woman fast asleep, exhaustion evident on her face. Not wanting to disturb her, she quietly withdrew and continued downstairs.

The kitchen was empty when she entered, the silence wrapping around her like a comforting cocoon. Wasting no time, she set to work, her hands moving swiftly as she prepared the meal. A warm bowl of chicken soup and a perfectly layered vegetable lasagna—something light, something comforting. She arranged everything neatly on a tray, making sure it looked as perfect as possible before lifting it carefully.

As she carried it up the stairs, her heart pounded—not just from nervousness, but from something deeper, something she had stopped trying to name. Despite everything Humza had done in the past, she had chosen to see the man he was becoming, the man he had shown her in fleeting moments of vulnerability and warmth.

He had pulled her back from the numbness she had lived in for so long. He had brought color into her once-gray existence, made her feel things she had never imagined she could. Loving him might have been reckless, but it felt inevitable. Like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

His darkness didn't scare her—not anymore. Instead, she felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a need to reach into his shadows and paint them with something brighter, something softer. To take away the loneliness they both carried.

With each step closer to his door, anticipation surged within her. Her pulse quickened, her breath grew shallow. It was a dizzying, exhilarating feeling—one she no longer tried to resist.

As she reached his door, she allowed herself to surrender to it. No more overthinking. No more hesitation. Just him. Just them.

Anaabiya knocked softly, hesitating for a moment before she heard his voice from the other side.

"Come in." His voice was rough, thick with unspoken emotions, yet quieter than she had expected.

She exhaled deeply, gathering her courage before pushing the door open. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. That alone made her pause—Humza never left his door unlocked when he was upset.

As the door swung open, the sight before her made her heart twist painfully. A deep sense of déjà vu settled over her. The room was a wreck—furniture overturned, books and papers strewn across the floor, shards of glass glinting under the dim light. It was chaos, the kind that spoke of rage too overwhelming to be contained.

She had seen this before. Humza, in the depths of his anger, destroying the one place he had always cherished. This room wasn't just four walls to him—it was a piece of his past, a gift from his father to his mother, something sacred. The destruction only confirmed what she already suspected—something terrible had happened today.

Her gaze shifted to him. His back was turned toward her, his broad shoulders tense, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The faint curl of smoke drifted upward, filling the air with a heavy, acrid scent.

Carefully, she stepped inside, avoiding the broken glass as she made her way to the bed. She set the tray down, her movements deliberate, before turning to face him.

"What is it?" His voice cut through the silence as he turned, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes burned with something unreadable, a mix of anger, pain, and something deeper—something that made the air between them feel charged.

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. The room suddenly felt too small, the space between them too narrow. He took a slow step toward her, closing the distance until he was standing right in front of her.

Anaabiya forced herself to take steady breaths, to meet his gaze without faltering. Whatever storm was raging inside him, she refused to look away.

Humza's voice broke the silence, but it lacked the usual magic that always pulled her in.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was hollow, devoid of warmth, as if all the life had been drained from him.

Anaabiya took a cautious step forward, her eyes searching his face. He looked miserable—his expression eerily emotionless, his glassy eyes wide open yet completely lifeless. It was as if the world had turned to darkness within him, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.

She had always known Humza was unpredictable. His emotions shifted like a storm—one moment distant and unreadable, the next, a whirlwind of fury. The impulsiveness of his actions had always been spellbinding, but this... this was different. This was the kind of silence that felt heavier than anger.

"I asked you something." His voice cut through the air again, sharper this time.

A voice, low and foreboding, whispered from the depths of her mind, warning her to step back, to rethink, to hold back the words that had been weighing on her heart. But then there was her heart—stubborn, relentless—telling her that if she didn't say it now, she might never get another chance.

Anaabiya wanted to pull him back from whatever dark abyss he was sinking into. She wanted to give him hope, to remind him that he wasn't alone. Everything will be fine once I tell him, she chanted silently, clinging to the belief that her words could reach him, could change something.

Taking a steadying breath, she finally spoke. "Humza, I... I need to tell you something."

His eyes darkened instantly, the weight of his gaze settling heavily on her. A slow, consuming heat crept up her neck, but she refused to back down.

He said nothing, only continued to watch her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Gathering her courage, she reached for his hand, only for him to flinch at her touch. The slight recoil felt like a stab to her heart, but she pushed past it, squeezing his fingers gently.

"Humza..." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue. "I love you." The confession tumbled from her lips, raw and unguarded. "I don't even know when it happened, but it did. And it's real."

His throat worked as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with a tension that almost distracted her from the silence stretching between them.

She held his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I want to pull you out of this darkness, Humza. I need to. Because I love you—unconditionally, irrevocably."

But he didn't move. Didn't speak. The silence was deafening, suffocating. She searched his face, desperate for any sign that her words had reached him.

Then, his jaw clenched. In one swift motion, he yanked his hand free from her grasp, as if her touch burned him.

"Are you done?" His voice was cold, emotionless. "If so, leave."

The sharp dismissal hit harder than a slap. Anaabiya stood frozen, stunned, as the walls around him closed in once more, shutting her out completely.

Anaabiya's voice trembled as she took a desperate step toward him. "Humza, please don't do this to yourself. I just—"

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped his lips, cutting her off like a knife through fragile silk. His eyes, once burning with something she had convinced herself was warmth, were now nothing but ice.

"Excuse me?" His voice dripped with mockery. "If you think this is the part where I say, 'Oh Anaabiya, I love you too,' then you're delusional." He took a step closer, towering over her, his presence suffocating. "I don't love you. I don't even fucking like you."

Anaabiya felt the air leave her lungs, the weight of his words crushing down on her like an avalanche.

"Just because I was polite to you these past few days, you thought you meant something to me?" His voice was sharp, slicing through her defenses with ease. "God, how naïve can you be?"

Every word he spoke dug deeper into her soul, an unrelenting onslaught of venom that spread like an incurable poison. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. It was as if the ground beneath her had cracked open, dragging her into an abyss of anguish and despair.

Her mind screamed for her to look away, to turn around and run before he shattered her completely—but her heart wouldn't let her. Because despite the cruelty in his words, she saw it.

The flicker of something beneath the rage. The pain behind the harshness.

But it didn't matter. Because at that moment, Humza was determined to bury whatever existed between them—ruthlessly and without mercy.

"You're lying." Anaabiya's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was steel beneath it. She refused to believe him, refused to let his words erase everything she had seen, everything she had felt in the past few days.

Humza let out a cold, humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he took a step back. "Think whatever you want, but trust me, you were so easy to fool." His gaze was merciless, his words sharp enough to cut through bone. "I played along, had my fun, and now? I'm done. So, thank you very much—now get the hell out."

His voice rose, and Anaabiya felt the sharp sting of rejection slam into her chest. She was on the verge of breaking, but she forced herself to stand tall, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Why are you doing this, Humza?" Her voice wavered, but she didn't back down. "Stop pretending. I know what I saw."

He exhaled sharply, turning his back to her as he strode toward the lone piece of furniture that remained intact—the table where an ashtray sat, untouched amid the chaos.

"Like I said," he muttered, picking up a cigarette, his fingers steady despite the storm raging inside him. "You're a fool." His voice dropped lower, colder. "Now, leave."

A tear slipped down Anaabiya's cheek before she could stop it. She wiped it away furiously, unwilling to let him see her break.

But she wasn't done.

"Are you afraid?" The words tumbled from her lips before she could think. "Is that it, Humza? Are you scared of what you're feeling?"

His fingers froze over the lighter.

"What happened today?" she pressed, stepping closer. "Tell me, damn it. What ruined us? Why are you pushing me away? Did I do something wrong?"

The room fell silent.

Humza's body went rigid, as if her words had struck something deep inside him. When he finally turned around, the look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.

The fury was gone.

And in its place was something far more terrifying.

A darkness so hollow, so consuming, it made her breath hitch.

He took one slow step toward her, his voice low, menacing.

Anaabiya's eyes locked onto his, terror seizing her limbs as she took an instinctive step back. Humza stood before her, shaking with unrestrained fury, his entire frame trembling as if barely containing the storm within. His gaze was wild—two burning pits of rage—and the sheer force of it made her blood run cold.

"What part of get out did you not understand?" he bellowed, his voice raw, echoing off the walls.

She flinched at the sheer violence in his tone, her body instinctively curling in on itself. But a voice in her mind screamed at her—Don't cower. Don't show weakness. Face him.

Still, she retreated, desperate to put distance between them. His presence felt suffocating, oppressive, like a beast circling its prey. And after so many days of seeing glimpses of warmth in him, the man before her now was a stranger. No, she realized with a sinking heart. This is the man he's been hiding all along.

Fear crawled up her spine. The hatred in his eyes was so raw, so visceral, it hollowed her from the inside out, making her feel as if she were nothing.

Without warning, Humza turned sharply, storming toward the bed. In one swift motion, he grabbed the tray she had so carefully prepared and sent it flying. The bowl shattered against the floor, food spilling across the room in a mess of ruined effort.

Anaabiya gasped, her body jerking at the sound of breaking porcelain. She stared at the destroyed meal, pain crashing into her chest like a tidal wave. She had made that for him. A simple gesture. A peace offering. And he had crushed it without a second thought.

Humza turned to her, his lips curling into something cruel, something merciless.

"I hate you," he said, his voice slow, deliberate—each word sharper than the shards of glass on the floor. "I have always hated you. Get that through your thick skull."

Anaabiya couldn't breathe.

"The act is over," he continued, venom dripping from his words. "And I'm done with this little game. You bore me now."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.

Anaabiya didn't move.

She couldn't move.

Her legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled to the cold floor, the weight of his words sinking deep into her bones.

She pressed her hands over her face as the dam finally broke, silent sobs shaking her body.

He was lying.

She knew he was lying.

But that didn't make his words hurt any less.

Minutes later, the roar of an engine shattered the silence, followed by the sharp screech of tires against the pavement. Humza was gone.

Anaabiya waited. And waited. But he never returned.

H U M Z A- "Vote and comment beautiful ladies.."

E D I T E D  on 5.3.2025