"Uh, yeah? But when have you ever cared about that?"
                          
It was true. I normally didn't. But after Azaan's latest stint, we had to be on our best behavior. And right now, I could feel a multitude of eyes bouncing between the three of us. Whispering and judging.
                          
Whoever this woman was, she obviously held some value to inspire such conversations. 
                          
And that did not sit well with me. Not well at all. 
                          
"Oh don't look, but they're heading our way right now."
                          
"What?" I whispered, plastering a smile on my face. "Please tell me you're lying?"
                          
"Nope," she answered through her teeth. "Your husband is twenty paces away."
                          
"Damn it."
                          
"Daania," Taimoor's gentle warm hand landed on the small of my back and I fought the urge to shake it off. His hand guided me to face him and I blinked, trying to reduce the animosity and irritation in my eyes.
                          
"Hey."
                          
"I don't think we've met," he greeted, his eyes on Fariha. 
                          
"This is Fariha, my-"
                          
"Your best friend, of course, I know. A pleasure to meet you, finally."
                          
"The pleasure's all mine. I'd introduce you to my husband, but he met an old schoolfellow of his, so he's probably near the food somewhere."
                          
"Plenty of time to catch up," the woman next to him kept looking at me, seeking acknowledgment or just waiting for Taimoor to introduce her, I had no idea. This close, she was breathtaking. A willowy beauty with a fine-boned delicate structure. Almost mystical.
                          
"It's so nice to meet you and congratulations on your wedding," she said with a serene smile, the one that looked like she had no idea what she was doing to me, but said that she had every goddamn idea.
                          
"Thank you."
                          
Fariha, my hero, swooped in. "I'm sorry we didn't catch your name."
                          
"Seher. Seher Dawood," she said the name with an emphasis. Like her name and her presence should have some meaning. "It's so lovely to meet the woman who's managed to get Taimoor to settle down."
                          
"I think he's the one who's managed to get me to settle down."
                          
I didn't bother to look at my husband's face. His posture was indication enough. Both Fariha and Seher let out low chuckles. 
                          
Just some casual chit-chat. 
                          
A talk between friends. 
                          
Slowly the cloud of tension around us dispersed. People around us scattered out of our radius, casually moving out of view, sensing that the conversation was now over. 
                          
But obviously, the feeling of paranoia remained.
                          
"It's nice to see you've met Seher, Daania," Mughal Senior, clamped a hand on Seher's shoulders and she jumped. "I told her you didn't mind her presence at your wedding. After all, the past should stay in the past."
                          
The past? 
                          
"Father," Taimoor's warning fell on deaf ears. Mughal Senior was beyond caring at this point. His eyes narrowed, a gleeful smile sliding across his face. Like a shark who had scented blood, he plowed onward and attacked. 
                          
"I told Seher that it was okay. Exes can meet right Daania? They can be friends? Even people who'd been engaged once."
                          
I heard Fariha's shocked inhale - a pale comparison to how I felt. The volcano of uncertainty brewing inside me had erupted and I was afraid of what the devastation of knowing was going to cause.