16. Mi casa es su casa

...

As days bled into weeks, the nation celebrated a milestone of Ashiq Salehin's marriage, Katrina Khan counted the last pieces of her heart she put back in place.

Katrina kept herself busy. She bore increasing workload at the office, and was always kept on her toes by her brothers at home. Her father had stopped receiving phone calls from their acquaintances. The buzz surrounding her broken engagement was slowly dying down as other events passed.

As new projects were entrusted upon them, the girls were required to stay behind at work till quite late into the night. Public transportations were no longer a viable option, and before Katrina could figure out a solution to this problem herself, Tamara reached out to Salman, and then Arif Khan for permission, and took it upon herself to make arrangements.

Katrina was furious at her cousin to say the least. She knew she could have made their office provide transportation at the condition of safety and convenience, or found figured out another way; but Salman had more than agreed to bear the responsibility.

As Salman began driving them home the nights the girls had to be held back late for work, he would have a smug smile plastered to his face the entire way. She had refused to let him learn the address of her street, but now he was allowed to drive all the way to their gate; that too with her father's permission.

Katrina did everything possible to not show her annoyance. Tamara was ecstatic; it was mostly because she could get to ride his fancy car more than once, and Salman even let her play with the buttons in front during traffic jams.

Katrina's cousin had clearly taken a liking to the man. Several times a day, she would see Tamara greeting him as they crossed paths, and when they were returning home Katrina's ears would be filled with tales of "Salman Bhai this, Salman Bhai that."

Fan girl would be the more appropriate term for Tamara. Katrina's embarrassment knew no bounds.

It was another late evening when Salman gave them a ride home. The streets in front of their house were still busy. The vendors were only starting to wrap up, and people were dispersing to take the directions of their home.

"Thank you," Katrina muttered with a heavy heart, avoiding his smug smile reflected in the rearview mirror.

"You're the best, Salman Bhai," her idiot cousin gushed.

A grin spilled on his lips. "You tell them, Tamarind," he said, winking at her playfully.

As they proceeded to get down from the car, Salman did too to ensure the girls reached safely inside. A whole bucket of water splashed from above.

One second, Salman was standing dry and fine, the next, he was soaked to the bone. They all lifted their gazes to find Jabir and Tauhid smirking through the second storey window.

The only polite thing to do then was to invite him upstairs.

"So your uptight cousin has a heart after all." Katrina heard Salman whisper to Tamara, who giggled in response. "I was afraid she'd send me home in this state."

Katrina looked over her shoulder and asked, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," he quipped, the smile still etched to his lips.

Katrina rolled her eyes as she looked forward once more. She was trying her level best to avoid looking at his direction since his wet clothes were sticking to his body more snugly than usual. Salman was dripping water all the way up the stairs, catching attention from every single person they passed by as if he didn't do it enough as is.

They found her mother standing by the door waiting for them. Khadijah Islam started apologizing vehemently as soon as he stepped inside. Salman was taking in every corner of her house with curiosity in his eyes. It was making her queasy in a way Katrina couldn't explain.

To distract herself from him, Katrina started calling her brother's names. "Look at what you guys did!" she scolded once they ran into the living room.

"Api, actually Mummy was the one who asked us to drop the bucket of water!" The two boys blinked back with absolute innocence.

"What?!"

"Arreh, badmash!" Khadijah scolded as embarrassment flushed her cheeks. "I asked you to throw the water down the drain, not out of the window."

Katrina turned to them again with a stern look on her face and hands on her hips.

"It's okay," Salman intervened before more scolding could be fired. "I'm sure they didn't mean to drench me. Right, kids?"

All eyes turned to him again, to find him watching the scene with amusement in his eyes and a towel wrapped around his shoulders. There was now water pooling around his feet, reminding them once again that he was soaked head to toe. The expression on Khadijah's face softened. "Come with me, I'll let you change into my husband's fresh clothes."

As Salman walked past the twins again, they discreetly flashed him evil grins.

"Bichhoos!" he hissed under his breath.

Katrina and Tamara cleaned up the mess he had left on their floor and outside. By the time she was done, Salman was sitting on their living room in her father's clothes that were a size too short.

She did not know which was stranger; seeing him in their living room or seeing him in Arif Khan's clothes.

Khadija had already welcomed him to stay for dinner, which Salman had accepted more than enthusiastically.

Her Dadi came to see him, eyes full of skepticism. "Heard there is a young man in our living room and we have two unmarried daughters, but he is not from my village..."

"Tamarind, you didn't tell me your Dadi was this beautiful in person." This was Salman's greeting.

And just like that, Zahira Khan was a goner.

By the time Katrina's father had returned home, Khadija was merrily serving dinner, Tamara and Zahira were aptly listening to Salman, the twins were locked in their rooms planning how to get back to Salman for getting them in trouble.

Arif Khan was not amused to find the young man in his living room wearing his clothes. Despite that, when Salman got up from his seat to shake his hand, he returned it politely.

"What on Earth is going on?" he asked his daughter privately.

Katrina let out a sigh. "I, myself, am trying to figure it out."

A couple weeks later, Khadija informed Katrina that she had invited Salman Bashir and his mother to dinner at the Khan residence.

"I reached out to him through Tamara. He is such a nice boy, I want to thank him for ensuring your safety," her mother said.

The Bashirs were welcomed into their humble abode with warmth and gusto. Neela Bashir was a strong and independent lady. She walked away from her toxic husband at the age of twenty-one, raised two children by herself and ran her own business - all the while battling the disapproval of her own family. By the end of dinner, Arif Khan was nothing short of impressed by the woman.

"Heard he made into your home," Zeenat whispered to her one day, throwing a discreet look over her shoulder in Salman's direction.

The girl wheeled her chair to Katrina's desk, forcing her to pay attention, leaning forward to maintain privacy. "You know, your cousin's a whole idiot, but she wasn't wrong when she called him hot."

Katrina pried her eyes away from her desktop screen, shooting the girl a look at her insinuation. "You've lost your mind."

"Have I?" Zeenat asked. "I mean, c'mon, your families seem to get along. I don't think I would be exaggerating if I said he seems interested too."

"I don't know." Katrina shrugged. She turned her attention back towards her computer, dismissing her. "I'm too busy to be having this conversation, okay?"

"That's always the case with you," Zeenat said, rolling her eyes. "At least think about it. Worse comes to worst, you'll walk out of it with some interesting stories. And God knows you need it."

It was late into the evening when Katrina was waiting by Salman's car. She was lightly tapping her right shoe against the paved road, eyes on the building as she waited for her cousin to show up.

Annoyance was budding in Katrina's chest. When Tamara had muttered the feeble reason to be excused, she had believed the girl; now she was starting to believe her cousin had ulterior motives. On the other end, Salman was leaning by the hood of the sleek metal. He was holding a packet of peanuts in one hand, reaching the other hand inside to pop one into his mouth occasionally.

The cars passing by were becoming sparse. The roads were emptying as people returned home to retire for the night. The street dogs were beginning to howl at a distance. As warm winds blew past them, rustling the leaves, Salman was sneaking glances at her once in a while. Katrina ignored his presence completely, focusing on the illuminated windows in the tall tower.

"Has the boyfriend given you anymore trouble?"

The question made her turn to him. He had his head down, eyes on the packet on his hand, tone so casual he could be asking about the weather.

"He wasn't my boyfriend, we were engaged," she replied. "And, no."

"He's a quite a piece of work, that one." Salman snorted, raising his brows to peak at her.

Katrina let out a sigh. "He's in a tough position at the moment. He's quite pleasant otherwise."

He rolled his eyes at her dismissively. Katrina contemplated whether or not to voice the question that was churning in her mind. She had heard rumors around the office about a broken engagement a couple months ago. She didn't want to cross the line, but her curiosity was itching her tirelessly.

"What happened between you and your ex?" she asked him at last.

The question took him off guard. He whipped his head up to meet her eyes.

Salman had gone stiff, the previous look of amusement disappearing from his face. She had never seen him this serious before, Katrina immediately regretted her decision.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, breaking eye contact.

The pool of discomfort was deepening in Katrina's stomach. They stood in absolute silence, noise of the street seeming deafening.

"You want to wait inside the car?"

Salman broke the silence a couple minutes after. His face had gone back to sporting that smug smile, his eyes ever so alive. He went back to acting like his own self, as if nothing had happened.

Katrina let out a sigh of relief, though the curiosity never leaving her. She wrapped her arms around her, the conversation with Zeenat making her cautious about how much distance she maintained with him. "No," she replied to his question, face bearing disapproval.

"I have heard some people find it more comfortable to sit in air conditioned cars than stand in places where mosquitoes breed," he said, that grin lifting up a corner of his lip.

She shot him a look, her gaze turning flat. "I'm just fine here."

"If you don't want me around, you just have to say it."

She glanced at him again, briefly. He had said the words with nonchalance, with his head down again, seeming more attentive to his peanuts than her.

"It's not that," Katrina sighed. "We're seen together everyday. The last thing I need is to be seen with you alone, inside your car, and give people more reason to talk."

He raised his eyebrows. "That's what you're worried about?"

She shrugged. "It's a valid matter to worry about. It's inappropriate."

He shook his head at her hopelessly. "You think too much."

Katrina pursed her lips. "I wish people would stop saying it like it's a bad thing. Actions have consequences. What I do and how I carry myself, affect me and my future, my parents and entire family. So yeah, I have to think too much."

He lifted his head to give her a thoughtful look. "You're right," he said a moment later.

She lifted a brow curiously.

"You think I should go stand behind the wall?" Salman asked, beckoning his head, eyes twinkling in mirth. "So the paparazzis can't see me?"

Katrina rolled her eyes at him, pursing her lips as he chuckled at his own silliness. Despite that, an involuntary smile graced her face. Salman looked satisfied with himself as they both turned to the building in anticipation of her cousin.