Chapter VI

                                    

                                          

Umeed was busy working at the front of the café when she heard a young lady asking for her pre-booked table. She was buried in the accounts register, which had been pending for weeks, and had settled herself on a stool near the cash counter. As she looked up, she heard a voice announce, "Table, in the name of Mrs Manahil Khanzada."
The voice was unmistakable. When Umeed turned around, she saw Farjaad walking in, heading towards a table where a woman in her early 30s was already seated. Farjaad settled down and began to engage in conversation with the girl. Umeed's heart sank as she watched him—feeling a pang of jealousy she hadn't anticipated. The sight of Farjaad comfortably conversing with another woman struck a nerve. 
Unable to bear it any longer, Umeed retreated to the back, feeling a surge of emotions she struggled to contain.
Farjaad had accepted the meeting location without objection, noting that it had been chosen by Manahil herself. He rationalized that perhaps this was where he was meant to be. Unconsciously, the idea of Umeed seeing him with another woman sparked a twisted sense of satisfaction—if anyone deserved to see him move on, it was her.
As Farjaad focused on his meeting, he found himself glancing around the café, half-expecting to see Umeed. But she was nowhere to be found. When the waiter approached, Farjaad, driven by a sudden impulse, asked about the manager. The waiter informed him that the manager was sick and hadn’t checked in that day.
This revelation left Farjaad feeling disinterested and disconnected. The brief excitement he had felt about the possibility of seeing Umeed again was now overshadowed by a sense of emptiness.
The meeting lasted for 45 minutes, and during this time, Umeed watched from the kitchen. The woman with Farjaad—seemed every bit the epitome of sophistication. She was confident, beautiful, and elegant, with honey-colored hair and a demeanor that suggested she was from an upper-class family. Umeed couldn’t help but feel a pang of bitterness; once upon a time, Farjaad’s taste might have aligned with someone like her.
As the meeting concluded, Farjaad and Manahil stood up to leave. Farjaad, leading Manahil towards the exit, scanned the café one last time. His eyes searched the room, and finally, he caught a glimpse of Umeed. Though her face wasn’t visible from where he stood, her hair was unmistakable. It was definitely her.
Feeling a mix of emotions, Farjaad finished his exit with Manahil, his mind preoccupied.


It was late evening, and Umeed was at the café, closing up for the night. She desperately wanted to call it a night. The last customer had left, and she was putting away the cash when the power suddenly went out. The café was plunged into darkness, and she fumbled for her phone to use its flashlight. 
As she moved towards the back room to check the breaker, she heard a noise outside. She peered through the window and saw a group of men lingering near the entrance. Her heart raced; they didn't look like customers or delivery people. 
She tried to ignore them and went back to check the breaker, but it didn't work. Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door, and she jumped. Thank God she had locked it before.
"Darwaza kholo warna hum tor denge issey" one of the men shouted.
Fear gripped her. She quickly dialed the police, but the call wouldn't go through. The power outage had disrupted the signal. She was stuck and had no way to call for help.
The men were now pounding harder on the door, and she could hear them trying to force it open. She looked around frantically for something to defend herself with but found nothing substantial.
As the situation grew more dire, she heard a car pull up outside. The pounding stopped, and there was a moment of tense silence. Umeed peered out again and saw Farjaad stepping out of the car, loose tie, and rolled up sleeves. Relief washed over her.
"Aap yahan kiya kar rahy hain ab" she muttered to herself, but at the same time, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
Farjaad approached the men calmly, but there was an edge to his demeanor that suggested he was ready for a confrontation. "Kiya horaha hai yahan?" he demanded.
"Ayee kon hai tu? Tera masla nae hai ye" one of the men snapped. "Hisaab hai humara idher"
"Kiya hisaab hai? Idher baat karo" Farjaad scoffed. 
"Kiun tu Malik hai idher ka? Chal tujhy se hee baat kr lete hain" a full muscled guy moved towards him. As he was approaching, they heard a police siren from near.
The men hesitated hearing the siren. One of them recognized Farjaad "niklo yahan se chalo" he muttered to the others. They backed off and left quickly.
Farjaad waited until they were out of sight before turning to the door. "Umeed, mai hun Farjaad, it's safe now. Let me in."
With trembling hands, she unlocked the door. Umeed stumbled forward, her vision blurred with tears. The moment she saw him, all her defenses crumbled. Without thinking, she threw herself into his arms. But Farjaad stood there, stiff and unresponsive, his arms remaining at his sides. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he wasn’t reciprocating.
She pulled back, wiping her tears hastily. "Mujhy smjh nae aaraha tha mai kiya karun" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. This wasn't just about today, but for past too, they both felt it.
Farjaad’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a flicker of concern. "It’s okay," he replied steadily. "You're safe now. I will take you home."
"Mujhy apny ghar jaana hai." She said quietly.
As they drove in silence, Umeed tried to steady her breathing. But the overwhelming fear and stress of the situation caught up to her. Her chest tightened, and she began to hyperventilate. Her vision started to tunnel, and she clutched at her seat, trying to ground herself.
Farjaad noticed her state immediately. "Umeed, theek ho tum?" he asked, his voice edged with worry.
She couldn’t respond. The world was closing in on her, her heart racing uncontrollably. She felt a surge of dizziness, her body trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to control her breathing, counting in her head, focusing on each breath. 
Farjaad pulled over, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched away, determined to handle it herself. After what felt like an eternity, she managed to calm her breathing, the panic attack subsiding.
"I'm okay," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "Mujhy bss.. bss ghar jana hai.."
Farjaad resumed driving, his jaw clenched. He was taken aback by her actions and the raw vulnerability she had shown. He had never seen her like this, so fragile and exposed. Despite his own turmoil, he couldn’t ignore her distress.
When they reached her place, she opened the door to step out. "Thank you!" she said, her voice steadier now, though her eyes were still red and puffy.
He nodded, watching her closely. "Take care, Umeed."
She gave a small, uncomfortable smile before turning and walking towards her door. As she disappeared inside, Farjaad couldn’t shake the image of her breaking down. It haunted him, making him realize that no matter what had happened between them, he still cared deeply for her.

The following morning, Farjaad struggled to shake off the emotional weight of his encounter with Umeed from the previous night. Despite his efforts to redirect his focus to his business obligations, the sight of Umeed's distress had deeply affected him, making it hard to concentrate on his professional duties.
Unable to ignore his concern, Farjaad decided to visit Umeed, driven by genuine worry rather than business. When he arrived at the café, he found her behind the counter, managing the café with a calm exterior that concealed her lingering distress. Their eyes met, and the silent exchange underscored the unresolved feelings and the profound impact of their unexpected reunion.
"Umeed," Farjaad said, trying to keep his tone neutral. "Mai bss guzar raha tha yahan se. Kesi ho tum?"
Umeed looked surprised but nodded slightly. "Theek" she replied coldly.
"Good!" Farjaad said, nodding in response.
"Aapne bheje thy na wo gunde?" 


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