𝓢tanding in a dimly lit corner of the venue, pacing myself and listening to Fariha bicker, I could not shake the feeling of doom. Something ominous was about to happen. Paranoia struck, lacing every thought until I could not even enjoy a conversation with my best friend.
He did not know how seeing that woman's hands on his flesh lit my skin on fire, pumping venomous fury through my veins. Control swept through me, keeping me from stalking over to where she held herself in front of him. Her body curving towards him. I was barely hanging on to my sanity, I felt it slipping away, possessiveness clawing its way up my spine. An unwelcome tsunami of red-hot jealousy I had no business allowing, but could not seem to extinguish.
"Daania?"
"What?"
"You're clenching your teeth."
"I'm fine," the gentle music at the back reminded me that time had, in fact, passed since my staring had begun.
Since I saw her.
I felt like a dead woman right now; life happened around me but I wasn't living. Or experiencing any of it.
"You're also glaring at your husband like you want to skin him alive."
"That's not true," she was wearing a royal blue silk sari. Porcelain skin. Bright under the full moon. Vibrant. With a halter neck blouse. Backless. I saw the long, curled ends of her hair, draped over one shoulder as she stood still, her back half to me. She was just so beautiful.
I could sense Fariha's eyes on me reading and analyzing every expression.
"I arrived a couple of hours ago and we haven't had the chance to catch up. What is going on between the two of you?"
"Nothing."
"Liar," jealousy and guilt cinched my stomach in a vise.
"Don't push it Fariha," not now, when I was trying not to focus on the stunning tall brunette. Who was she? And why was she so familiar with him? Why was he talking to her?
"Yeah, because the look you're giving them right now isn't concerning at all," I looked over at her.
"Shut up. That's just how I look."
She coughed out a laugh, bringing her drink to her lips, unreservedly amused by my continued bad mood.
"Look Daania, if it's bothering you so much, why don't you just go to your husband?"
"I can't do that."
"Of course you can. You can go over and lay your claim over him. He's your husband."
My daze cleared as I focused intently on her.
"And that wouldn't make me look like a possessive insecure wife?"
"I mean," she cleared her throat. "It makes you look like a wife."
"I don't want to overreact. This feels like overreacting."
"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.
Seher.
Ex-fiancée.
Taimoor's ex-fiancée.
The words - the thought- just kept repeating over and over again in my head. I wanted to believe it wasn't true. It took that long just to process the simple facts.
His ex fiancée was here. An ex. Someone he cared about. Cared enough to want to marry her. At his wedding.
Everyone knew. That's what everyone was discussing.
A million doubts clicked like a constellation of tiny, decaying stars. Taimoor's strange behavior. The silences, the worries about the future... his continued frown. It all connected into one chasm that I was falling into.
It was only the adrenaline that kept me standing, that kept me calm. "I agree. There's no point living in the past."
"Of course. She's right," Seher chimed in, her hand reaching out to touch Taimoor's and he moved away, wrapping it around my waist. Bored of our antics or bored of our non-reaction, Taimoor's father ambled out of our group grumbling under his breath."It's lovely to meet you Daania."
"Mrs. Mughal," I said firmly. "My name is Mrs. Daania Taimoor Mughal."
"Oh right, it was wrong for me to presume. We barely know each other."
"Exactly," and I don't want to know you. My spine stiffened and Taimoor's thumb on my waist started to go in circles, creating a soothing distracting pattern. Relaxing, I leaned into his body heat, I edged a little closer.
I could lean forward and kiss him. I could lean forward and lick along the angry line of his mouth, I could suck and bite on his tongue if he'd let me. Mark him. Make her realize that he was mine. Let her see what she couldn't have.
"Well, this has all been very interesting. If you'll excuse us, we wouldn't want to neglect our other guests," I nodded slowly at his words, slipping my hand over his, wishing I could just melt into the ground.
I gave Fariha a quick hug and threw a dirty look at Mughal Senior's back. He was now back in earshot, his eyes flicking over us. However, there was no part of me that could muster up the courage or the generosity to spare a glance for Seher. I just could not do it.
Unsurprisingly, I understood Azaan's state of mind now.
His father was a destructive asshole.
He just wanted to watch the world burn.
"I'm sorry about that, I-"
"I'm not in the mood," Taimoor's arm was still around me and right now, all I wanted to do was to push him away.
"Daania-"
"Can we just get through this?" I managed, wincing as my words turned out to be a confession of my feelings.
"Sure."
His clipped tone didn't bother me. He had no right to be irritated. At least he had some information that could help him cope with this situation. I, on the other hand, felt like an absolute idiot.
After fifteen minutes with Taimoor, tired and not in the mood to mingle with anyone else, I ended up talking to Riaan. I wasn't the only one. I'd spied Taimoor's uncle slip out the back and watched his mother's relatives form a protective shield around his mother, assembling a judgment-filled half-circle, and the board members all indulge in the merriments. Fariha was doing her rounds, having found a mutual group of friends, Zeenia was busy with her mother, Affandi was chatting with a group of boring old people to the left and Riaan was patiently tolerating my one-word answers.
"Thank you for inviting us Daania. The people here are crazy," which in Riaan's talk meant that they were great.
"Riaan, you've got a job in Silicon Valley. You're miles better than these people."
He ran a hand through his hair. "It's not always about merit. It's about the privilege and the elitism."
"You're right," I mumbled, looking at the uneaten plate of food. "It's not always about merit."
"Daania?"
"Hmmm?"
Before he could ask me, the man of the hour swooped in, his dark forbidding gaze on the boy sitting beside me.
"You must be Riaan?"
"And you're Taimoor!" Riaan pumped his hand, his smile warm, his eyes briefly skating over Taimoor's scars. "Nice to meet you, finally."
"Yes, finally."
The words were bitten out. Rough and animalistic. Riaan gave me a concerned look but I just glared at Taimoor. Riaan, graphic designer extraordinaire, was absolutely fucking gorgeous, a sweetheart, like a brother to me and totally into his wife. I didn't know where Taimoor's attitude was coming from, but this caveman possession had to stop.
"We were just heading back to the house if you don't-"
"No of course not. I'll go find Fariha," Riaan got up and placed his napkin on the table. "I'll see you tomorrow Daania."
He leaned down to pat my head and I smiled.
"Bye."
Taimoor didn't even give me a chance to take a single breath. "Let's go."
His hand curled around mine and he expertly navigated our way back to the manor. In complete silence. Snapshots of the manor filtered in, lined with doors that led to magical places I had no desire to visit. The house became a maze and he was leading me straight to its center where I'd never willingly find my way out.
My room.
We entered the place and he locked the door behind me. My arms immediately crossed over my chest, holding me together for what came next. That seems to touch something inside him because he looked up at me and there was trust shimmering in his eyes while the rest of his face went slightly guarded. These contradictions, the trust, and the armor were like a hook to me, yanking at parts of my mind that I didn't even know I had. Pulling at something in my chest that I could not identify
"Daania."
I frowned as my back found its way up against the wood. The lack of space.
The hard body against my front.
The pounding of my heart.
It all felt like home.
"Answer me," he growled against my cheek, his thigh coming up to hold me in place. I felt him suck in a deep breath. I wondered if he smelled the jealousy, the insecurity, the pain. A bad part of me hoped that he did.
"I-"
"I didn't know Daania, believe me, I didn't know."
"It was insulting Taimoor," I tried to push him away, my hands coming up to his shoulders. "I didn't know who she was. You could have told me-"
"I know but I didn't think it was relevant."
"How was that not relevant? Wouldn't you have wanted to know if I had a boyfriend? Or if I'd been engaged?"
This time he silenced me with a hard kiss almost as if the idea of someone else in my life was unthinkable and unbelievable.
"I would have wanted to know," he answered roughly, pulling back. "I wouldn't have wanted to be blindsided."
I turned my head to his, forcing his face in front of mine as I replied breathlessly. "You can't keep kissing me."
"Can't stop," he said, his eyes stuck on my lips. I wanted to kiss him before both he and I existed. And I needed to kiss him like hydrogen needed to find the first oxygen. Like the world wouldn't exist until my lips fused with his and created the foundation of life, so I pushed him away.
Just far enough that our lips couldn't accidentally brush against one another's.
"I didn't know. Do you believe me?" anger had been replaced with pure pain in his voice as his palm slid up my arms. "I didn't know."
"I believe you."
"It wasn't to disrespect you. In no way did I want to disrespect your or your position. You are my wife and that's final."
That's final.
The words should not have had such an impact on me, but they did.
"Why was she so familiar with you?"
"Let me explain?" he rasped and tilted his head a little.
I winced. I didn't want to hear an explanation. I didn't want to know how deep their connection was. At a time where he wasn't scarred or disfigured. Not broken. It was probably childish of me to think that way. Foolish to think that he didn't have a past. That he'd never had someone special in his life. Relationships weren't built on mistrust. They weren't built based on the past. But he needed to tell me and I needed to listen.
"Let's sit down," I had a feeling my legs had had enough shocks for today. He followed me to the small sitting area, his eyes on the flowers I'd arranged and placed in every corner.
"You're supposed to throw the old one's out."
"I can't make myself do that, not until they're old and withered," he nodded, his eyes softening. Shifting slightly, I put some distance between us. I needed a clear head for this. "Okay, whenever you're ready."
"Seher and I started dating when we both met at a grad event at Yale. She was this unassuming smart socialite who could fit in my world," his eyes flicked towards me but I kept my face expressionless. "She was everything that I wanted at the time. A girl from a well-connected family who practically worshiped the ground I walked on, didn't bother me, didn't want much of my time, had her own projects, and fit with the image."
I reached up and pulled my hair over my shoulder, spinning all the strands together, not interrupting.
"After I'd been bestowed with my degree, I proposed. It seemed like the right thing to do. Daada Jaan was happy, my parents thought that they'd finally done something right," he hadn't mentioned if he'd loved her. There was no mention of love. Almost as if he was sensing my thoughts he smiled sadly. "You've seen and met my parents. That was the closest to an amicable marriage I would have gotten. We fit."
I didn't like being read so easily so I prompted him to keep talking."What happened?"
"The accident happened," my head tipped to the side. I didn't understand. "A week before we were due to announce the engagement, I ended up in the hospital with burns on my body and half of my face scarred."
I sat in silence and absorbed his words.
"Seher couldn't cope. I was on the hospital bed and she was the one who couldn't cope," his mouth twisted into a bitter smile and I knew that the real thing was yet to come. "She burst into tears, closed her eyes, and wailed. Wailed," he said, the flat bitterness in his voice slightly blunted now. "She never came to see me after that. Those fifteen minutes were the most traumatic moments of her life."
What. A. Bitch. I struggled to breathe in the air that held such toxic words, that contained even the memory of such a poisonous person.
"I'm sorry."
He smiled. "No you're not, you look like you want to murder her right now."
"I plead the fifth."
"Doesn't work here, but your intention has been noted," my lip trembled as it lifted in a small smile feeling a spike of retroactive fear.
"Was that the reason why-?" why you broke it off?
"Was that not enough?"
"I just feel like there's more," I wasn't trying to hurt him by bringing it up, but what he said didn't fit. Not entirely. The acceptance by his family. Her presence tonight.
"She married Altamash," his matter-of-fact statement shocked me, and it seemed to shock him too. "When I was in the hospital, apparently they got close and connected. And decided to get married. My fiancèe chose my brother because I was no longer physically the same."
"That's...you were still you!" I sounded lame, trying to argue why he should've been enough for her. "Your physical appearance doesn't change what's inside you!"
"Not for her."
Overwhelmed, I looked at my bare feet, and then I faced Taimoor, who was watching me attentively. "She- I'm... how did you manage?"
His hands dropped to his lap in defeat as he added shamefully. "I didn't take it well. Altamash and I didn't talk. I didn't go to their wedding. Zeenia and mother took my side, Azaan was too young to take a side, but Father was on Altamash's side. He wanted all of us to move on. To think of the bigger picture. Daada Jaan fell sick and they rushed the wedding because they needed to announce Altamash as the new CEO. Mughal Co. needed its successor."
And his project. The White Rose was used to propel Altamash up the ranks. The worst kind of betrayal. The one that came when the person you thought loved you the most was the one to hurt you the worst. I knew what he felt because I'd felt it too.
My heart hurt for him because we were the same kind of person.
The same kind of people who when they gave, gave their all.
"How long did they...?"
"A few months. And then Zeenia eloped with Affandi. She came to me, pleading for me to save her from an arranged marriage because Altamash and Father were pressuring her to break it off and come back. So I did what I could. I couldn't see my sister suffer," a bruised smile flitted over his face. "Couldn't let her and my best friend be sacrificed on the Mughal Co. alter."
A strangled cry barreled out of my mouth. "The greenhouse, in Islamabad!"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "She took you there?"
"They both did. It's gorgeous."
"Well it should be, I pay them good money to maintain it."
"You what?"
"I own that building Daania."
Of course, he did. How silly of me.
"You're stepping into the public again," my heart constricted against its beats, pained for him as I realized that to get what he wanted, to save his legacy, he'd have to bare his life and his wounds to the public.
Once again, a shadow crossed his face.
"Can't be helped. People always talk. I can't stop them from making speculations, but I can make sure that what I do, is done the right way. The company was always my concern and my goal. Nothing can distract me from that."
I ducked my head and pulled my legs up to fold underneath me on the chair. A small squeal escaped when he reached over and, gripping it by the armrests, pulled my chair directly in front of his. I sucked my lower lip between my teeth, holding my breath because I wanted to know. It shouldn't matter, but still, I wanted to know about the woman that wasn't here but still remained between us.
"Why is she here?" I whispered. "Do you think she's part of the whole takeover mafia? She has the resources, the time, and the motive."
He was taking over her dead husband's position. He was the heir to all the Mughal property and holdings. He was someone she'd rejected. She could hate me. She could want him.
"I doubt it. She's smart. She knows not to cross me."
I knew I was being needy-when I knew the answer to questions but asked them anyway because I wanted to hear it again. "So there's nothing here that I should be concerned about?"
I watched fire forge steel in his eyes as I insisted.
"No. Never," he growled, pulling me up from the chair and into his lap. My traitorous hands gripped into his shirt to try and pull him closer, but he only let his lips touch me. The rest of his body was solid and hard between my spread legs, his hands on either side of me, braced against the armrests.
Like the satisfying click of two puzzle pieces fitting together.
Connected.
Locked.
"You have nothing to worry about," the possessive growl that erupted from the hard chest beneath my hands drenched my underwear. A quick glance at the front of his pants told me what I already knew. He was just as affected. Once again, dangerously close to desire taking over every other thought before we could talk about our reality...our life...outside of each other. His hand gripped mine and yanked me to him a second before his lips crashed down onto mine.
"Promise me," I gasped, pulling my mouth from his. "Promise me that you won't keep anything from me anymore for whatever reason."
He bit my earlobe before swearing hoarsely."I promise."
"Look at us communicating."
His fingers in my hair pulled my head back far so that he could eat leisurely along my jaw.
"I like this form of communication, we should do it more often."
I giggled and he smiled, his lips coming to rest on my cheek.
There was that selfish, juvenile part of me that wanted to drag this fight out. Make him suffer. I still wanted to be mad. I still was mad. And hurt. But he was here and for some reason, that was all that mattered. Even though there were more battles ahead of us to fight, I wasn't afraid. I sighed into the warmth and promise of his embrace, letting the world fade away around us.
I reached up and cupped his cheek, coarse with stubble, in my palm, and murmured. "I'm proud of you."
He relaxed and smiled, just a small upward curve, and pressed his lips against mine in a sweet kiss. Just thinking about it had my tongue darting out to lick my own lips. I thought I heard a growl escape him, but then I couldn't be sure. Breathing in, he planted each of my hands on his shoulders and gave me a searing gaze, silently ordering me to keep them there.
"I hate to leave, but there are things that need to be done."
"I understand," my voice was just above a whisper.
A devious smirk lifted the corner of his lips.
"Not for long. You'll be moving in with me tomorrow."
I nearly stumbled before righting myself, and I attempted to calm my erratic heart. Taimoor's eyes followed the movement for a fraction of a second before he took a calming breath, those steely eyes appearing even darker, and the shadows clinging to his features, making him look like some sort of otherworldly creature.
"Haven't we been living together for the past two months?"
"Funny."
"I know."
For long moments, we stared. Him with his hands in his pockets, me with one hand on my chest, still catching my breath, but both of us unspeaking.
"I'll see you in the morning?" I nodded, still mute. He bent forward and brushed his fingers over my wrist before bringing it to his mouth to place a small kiss on the inside. "Good night."
Now my heart was racing for another reason entirely and when the door closed heavy behind him, all I saw were the possibilities of a future that it had opened.
"How's it looking?"
My bombshell best friend beamed at me. She'd appeared at my door half an hour later with a plate of cupcakes, orange juice, and chips - junk food personified that she'd proudly squirreled away from the chef. And a smile on her face that said she knew whatever I needed to talk about required the comforts of sweet and savory foods.
"Delicious," I assured her, pausing as I felt my phone buzz reassuringly on the table. I had texted my parents to check-in, and as soon as I did, my anxiety began to creep up. They were coming in tomorrow, well before the reception. Bad weather had delayed their flight and moved it to an early morning time. Just a few more hours before my husband met my father.
We were facing so many obstacles and crossing so many bridges at the moment, I had no idea how to pace my emotions or even think about that.
After days of living and breathing each other back to life, spending the night together talking, going out on his motorcycle, this was the first that we were separated for longer than a few hours, and it would be a lie to say I missed him.
"You're thinking of him!" she gasped. Fariha was in fine form today. After getting over her first impression of Taimoor, rapid blinking of her eyes, she had told me that the reports of his scarring had been greatly exaggerated and that I'd done a great job finding a hot guy to bang. I'd been too distracted by his ex to register her words.
"That's not it."
"You are! Have you guys had sex yet?"
"Fariha!"
"What? We're both adults and we're best friends."
I could only blush and assure her that whatever she was thinking, was not the case. That we hadn't done much else aside from making out.
"Man's got some iron self-control."
"This is not a normal relationship."
"You're owning that it's a relationship. That's a step in itself."
"It's a mess."
"Don't say that. Not everyone has what you do," she scolded me.
I glared at her. "Of course. Normal people just have a Nikkah nama. We have a contract and a prenup."
"Amongst other things," she broke off a piece of the red velvet cupcake and handed it to me like a peace offering. "But, who broke the no intimacy clause? Should I prepare my case? Am I defending you or your honor?"
"It was a mutual thing."
"Okay..." she laughed and set her glass down. "God you should see your face, it's red. Jokes apart you're not going to go all-in right?"
"What?"
"Daania. Have you talked about what that would mean? If the two of you had sex?" I slowly chewed the bite of cake that was in my mouth. "Daania!"
I swallowed and met her gaze.
She knew. "Oh my God. I did not expect you to be so irresponsible!
"I just don't want to overthink or rationalize it."
"Dany I want you to rationalize this. You're a young girl. Entering the prime of your life. What happens when you sleep with him? What if he gets tired of you? What if this doesn't go beyond September? What if you get pregnant? What happens then?"
I lowered my lashes.
"Then if that's it, then that's the end of the road."
Fariha was at a loss.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that for once I don't want to overthink or logically rationalize my life. I want to live. I want to make my own decisions that are not dictated by the future."
This world that I'd climbed into and clung to was deeper and darker than what anyone could do to help.
"Which is a little disturbing coming from you-"
"I like him," I whispered like it was a classified state secret and anyone could be listening in.
"And the contract? Is you liking him enough? Does he like you?" my gaze rose to hers, still filled with shock. "Dany... my darling. What are you doing?"
A mix of emotions erupted and tears filled my eyes. "I don't know."
She pulled me into a hug and sighed. "I need to process this."
Her sigh scared me.
"Right," I said with a weak laugh, hardly even caring about how to deal with this now. The dread of what she needed to 'process' ate away at me.
Her eyes narrowed and I thought it really wasn't quite fair for someone so beautiful to be so perceptive, too. My cheeks flooded red with the shameful stories about how little it had taken me for me to like Taimoor.
"You've changed."
She managed to soothe some of the pain, her hand on my cheek. As if she saw something in me. I wanted to know.
"How?"
"You're more. I don't know how to explain it. But... I don't know. It's so strange, seeing you with him and how you interacted... that was all-"
"What was it?"
"Surreal."
Now that she'd explained her perception of me, I wanted to know what her impression was of Taimoor.
"What do you see? What do you think?" I encouraged selfishly. It was one thing to think about it. Another to hear it from someone else.
And when she looked back up at me, her eyes were like the brightest interrogation lights shining straight into my soul.
"He's... nice."
"Nice?" Her stare seeped into my blood like truth serum. Not the kind that would pull the truth from me, but the kind that would give me truths that I wasn't ready to hear.
"It's a little scary how in tune the two of you are. I watched the two of you all night. No matter where you went, his eyes followed you, his body moved with you. It's like he was attuned to your every move. And that's not it," she said softly, and the tenderness in her face would have made me cave if it had been any other topic, but not this. "You bloom under his gaze. You light up when he's near you. Almost as if you come alive. It's... unreal."
"So it's not all in my head?"
My expression must have conveyed my insanity because she began, speaking softly but quickly.
"No, it's not all in your head. But-" I didn't want to listen to anything beyond that. Not with Taimoor. Anything with him was one track. One singular thought. A hateful, needy obsession. Madness. "Is it worth the risk and the pain?
I let out a sigh, the heaviness of where I was stuck finally weighing on me. No one could know. Especially now that my story could end in a million sharp and shattered pieces.
༻✺༺
The morning light played across my face, burnishing the bridge of my nose and my cheekbones with the faintest luster of gold. The roses this morning had doubled in quantity, taking up the whole table. I fixed my hair, staring at my reflection and reapplying the same shade of lipstick I'd taken off before I'd tried the second color. The dress I was wearing today was a delicate shade of blue-green, seafoam, and it gorgeously sets off the amber-brown of my skin. And then there was the way the chiffon fluttered and kissed along my body.
Unbidden, the memories of last night penetrated my mind. The confusion, the hurt, Taimoor's confession, Fariha's advice. So much to focus on and so little time. Courtesy of the ever so helpful Akbar, my family was due to arrive in thirty minutes.
Just thirty minutes to get to Taimoor and make sure he was calm. To make sure I was ready to intervene if things spiraled out of control.
And I was not even thinking of the reactions my parents would have when they met with Taimoor's parents. That was a potential disaster I wasn't going to even ponder on. Not now.
I headed down the corridor and towards the foyer, near the main entrance of the manor. I go straight there, barely even bothering to make eye contact with the people telling me hello as I passed. I stepped inside the wide foyer, following the muffled voices down the hall, slowing my steps the closer I got.
I knew that voice.
And the slower I walked, the faster my heart hammered.
He was in dark jeans and a soft-looking taupe cashmere sweater that contrasted strikingly with his dark hair. He was talking to his uncle when he spotted me, pausing mid-sentence, and my heart stuttered when he smiled at me. His eyes looked warm and there was something else in his gaze, almost like protectiveness.
"Morning beta," Uncle Imran said quietly, holding what I hoped was a cup of coffee and not something else. From what I'd seen last night, everyone around me was looking for reasons to let their emotions out and find a healthy outlet to do so.
"Morning."
"Are your parents on their way?" my brow scrunched up. How did he know that? He hurried to explain himself. "Oh, Taimoor was telling me why Akbar was out."
"Oh."
I switched my gaze to Taimoor who wore his custom blank expression. Uncle Imran's brows drew together and his mouth quirked like he could not decide if he should be worried or entertained by this exchange.
"Well then. I'll see the two of you tonight," I nodded and he paused beside me."I look forward to meeting your family Daania, especially your father. It's time we caught up."
The man made his exit. I could imagine he wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, but there was no graceful way to do it - not at this point. My face became hotter.
Alone with him, I suddenly felt shy.
"Hi."
He grinned, almost boyishly. I blushed and shifted on my feet. "Hey."
"I'm glad you're here, come I have to show you something," he stopped and tugged on my hand as he led us to his office.
"What is it?"
He stepped closer to me and pulled me against him.
"I have something for you, but first," a captivating smile lit up his face."What do you want, Daania?" he murmured against my skin.
"What do you mean?"
He paused, collecting his thoughts before explaining."From life. What do you want to do? What do you want to be? Where do you see yourself in the future?"
The same question he'd asked me months ago. The question that had bothered him. That kept nagging him. I'd told him I wasn't selfish, that I didn't want anything.
Now I did.
I wanted something.
I just didn't know if I could get it.
"For everything to be okay," he looked at me, surprised. "For there to be no drama or surprises."
"Uh to the no surprises part... does that include the ones from me?"
"What do you mean?"
He pulled a folder to a space in front of him and flipped through.
"I have something to give you," he stepped away from me and it hit me that whatever this was, was serious."This is yours. I meant to give it to you yesterday... but well. It's better to give this to you now."
"Is it a permit to build an observatory?"
He smirked."Open it."
The file opened and the papers unfurled. My heart that had begun to thump heavily with awe and longing now slowed warily at the impending news.
My heart burned.
I tried to focus on the words, and while I had some experience reading legal scriptures, there were technical words I was unfamiliar with, began to blur together into a muddled mass. I shook my head in desperate frustration and shoved the file back at his chest.
"What is this?"
"It's a statement. From the bank. Your father's loan has been repaid," I gasped in air, realizing I'd let go of my breath, deciding air wasn't necessary."The company will be transferred to you and your sister. As soon as you sign those papers, Yahya will have them filed and you'll be the new owners of your father's company."
It was natural to assume the file meant more than one thing - one more ticked box, another obstacle conquered - because that was how we'd started. And to see that we'd already checked off the first thing. That we were moving into the second phase of our agreement.
Meant that we were slowly running out of time.
I didn't know how long we stood like that, but it was as long as it took for me to be convinced this wasn't a dream I was going to wake from.
Finally, I lifted my face from the crook of his neck. "This is real."
Hurt flared in his eyes."I'm not going to double-cross you Daania."
"No, it's just," I continued hesitantly as I explained."I just never thought that six months would pass so quickly."
Freedom. I had my freedom back. My parents no longer had to rely on someone else, Baba could start with his creations. He could research and innovate like he used to. Nazia would be free to enjoy her final semester. She could do whatever she wanted.
Relief shot out of my chest and my legs nearly buckled under the weight.
His unsteady breath caressed over my lips just before his mouth slanted over mine. His hand at my waist slid up to hold my cheek steady while his tongue devoured my mouth. It took hardly a moment when he kissed me like this before I sagged weightless against him, sparks prickling over every inch of my skin as my nipples tightened and heat pooled between my legs.
I felt his smile on my cheek.
He pulled back at the knock at the door.
"Come in," we kept our gazes on the shiny walnut door, putting some inches between us.
"Ma'am?"
"Yes, Akbar?"
"Your family is here," the look on Taimoor's face cooled a few degrees into his subzero face.
Icy and frozen. Unapproachable.
Crap.
"You don't have to do this."
"I can't avoid this forever."
But I could. I could happily avoid this forever.
I didn't exactly sprint to my parents but my walk was not slow and steady.
My mother was in awe. She stood there in a tailored white kurta that was impeccable, and her shawl was wrinkle-free. Her statement necklace was a vivid red, giving her a punch of color, which she needed right now. My sister's face was pale, and likely in her worry, she'd rubbed off most of her makeup, dressed casually in black slacks. My father stood beside them, his arms crossed and his vacant stare boring a hole into the painted ceilings and the glittering chandeliers.
"Mama," I said.
The tenor of my voice brought her to look at me, but when her gaze wheeled around to find me, she did a double-take. She blinked her stunned eyes, taking in my dress, hair, and makeup.And then she spied Taimoor beside me and stiffened. Nazia pressed her lips together but focused on tucking a stray strand of her hair back in its place. Baba's focus darted from me to him and back again but he didn't say anything.
I blundered forward to hug them and each of them held me for a long moment. I know my eyes were glassy and wet, and I blinked rapidly to keep back the sudden tears. It felt so good to have them here with me. To have my support system with me. And with the recent re-acquisition of Baba's company, the relief was massive.
"I'm so glad you made it."
"Yes, finally."
"I'll show you to your rooms," I turned around to look at the two men behind me. Akbar stood with his eyes on the ground while Taimoor stared, stiff and impassive as a statue. Panic tinted my voice."Uh, this is Taimoor and you've already met Akbar."
They nodded and I rushed through the process.
"Awesome. Akbar can you help me-"
"I imagined you to be different," my head snapped to Nazia. Did that sentence actually leave her mouth?
"Sorry to disappoint."
"Not at all. Nice place by the way."
An easy, disarming smile breezed across Taimoor's lips.
"Glad you think so."
An ounce of relief loosened my chest so I could breathe. My sister frowned and nodded slowly as she twisted the handle of her bag in her hands tighter.
"Thank you for having us," my mother's tone was full of unreserved judgment.
Taimoor lowered his head in regard, his face twisted in an ironic smile.
"Great," I clapped my hands together, slipping my arm around my father's, trying to snap him out of his daze. Was he medicated? Was he okay? Another worry for another time. "Now, if you'll follow me?"
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Late in the afternoon, my girl team which now included Zeenia and my mother disappeared into one of the guest rooms with five women, who were our hair and makeup team. After an intense three-hour session under harsh white lights and constant chattering, we were done. My entourage had departed half an hour ago, but I'd remained upstairs, changing into my saari, mentally preparing for the night ahead.
The golden saari I wore was molded to my body, a sleeveless sequined number. The fabric fit me as if it had been painted on, all the way down below my hips, before flaring out to the floor. The outer layer was sheer net, and as I moved, it trailed behind me like a shimmering veil. The hairstylist had twisted my hair in soft waves, letting them hand over my shoulders, with some carefully placed strands softly curling to frame my face.
But the pièce de résistance was my makeup.
My makeup was dramatic and sultry. The dark eye-makeup made my brown eyes deeper. It was dangerous the way the makeup made me feel. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and I tried to channel the strong confident woman I was portraying, the one who played on an equal footing. I wouldn't crack under the enormous pressure, nor would I flinch when I saw all of the board members this evening.
And for once, I did not look my age. I looked...timeless.
I was all-powerful and mighty, as if I didn't need to control every inch of my world because I could control everyone else's.
Taimoor stood at the bottom of the steps with his back turned so he was merely a figure in black. I descended gracefully to the bottom of the steps, fixing him with my gaze, and I was struck by the idea that the sight of me was somehow having the same effect on him as he held over me. He turned when I reached him, his chest rising and falling with his hurried, uneven breath. His tuxedo was a rich black, and the lapels had a faint sheen to them. Black buttons dotted a line up his white shirt, ending in a perfectly tied black bow at his throat. He looked elegant and refined in his tuxedo, a man determined to get what he wanted. The clean lines and stark contrast of black on white emphasized the breathtaking man beneath.
"You look beautiful."
Once again, my ridiculous heart forgot how to function.
"You look nice too."
I strolled toward him, the train of my saari dragging behind me. His hand clasped on my waist and my skin went hot as sparks coasted down me. My pulse skipped along, and nerves trembled in my belly.
I felt amazing, and a big part of it was the way Taimoor was looking at me. It made me dizzy and made my heart beat faster. And-oh-how he stared at me like I was the sexiest person ever. His gaze traced the lines of my body. It was arousing and sensual, this act of him observing me. It made my heart flutter, and if I weren't already nervous, it would have caused goosebumps. His eyes were intense, connected to the sexual current flowing between us.
"Try not to enchant everyone tonight."
"Isn't that what you want me to do?"
"Charm them sure, but don't enchant them. I'd hate for someone to end up with a bloody nose or a broken hand."
"You're not serious are you?" he didn't say anything, his face an impenetrable mask.
"Don't push it Daania," his jaw clenched, only long enough to give me a sexy flash of it.
I loved to defy him, to provoke him because it made him lose control. And when he lost control, he showed me just how much he needed me and I loved to see how he needed me.
"Maybe I will."
He smiled and I tripped, stumbling through reality because I was afraid that at any moment, it was going to turn out to not be a reality at all and just the most beautiful, heartbreaking fantasy. There was a split second sandwiched between the moment I regained my balance and the moment that Taimoor pulled me against him- a split second where I felt a cold chill down my spine.
Like a cool finger sliding down the length of my body.
"Hey, guys? You ready to make your entrance?" Zeenia's eyes were narrowed with concern. I nodded just as Taimoor pulled me up against him. The door shoved open and Azaan stepped out, his tuxedo in place. It allowed me to see his expression, which was a mixture of guilt and exasperation when his gaze met mine. The only evidence that he remembered his behavior last night.
"Will you hurry up? Everyone's waiting."
At her nod, we entered the ballroom and I prayed that I had conveyed the right expression. The whole ballroom was bathed in dim lights, giving the room a mystical quality. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the extended ceiling, with music from a live band. I could see my family huddled in a corner, Fariha, and Riaan most probably trying to get them to socialize. Well, they were in safe hands, for now.
"This is..."
"Stunning, I know," Zeenia completed, her eyes shining with pride. "Who invited her? Didn't she get the message yesterday?" when she said 'her' it was laced with ominous hatred; there was no question which 'her' she was referring to.
Shifting my eyes, I stared at the beautiful distraught girl in front of me.
Seher looked like a siren, a glittering star. I was struck by how she looked. Not just gorgeous, but powerful. Beyond desirable. I stared and wondered how anyone had ever seen anything to love in this woman. This belladonna. She was the evil flower. Perfect and poisonous.
"Taimoor you look great and your wife, she's a vision," I flinched at her words. They weren't sharp or cruel. They were soft, welcoming. Like arsenic- subtle and unassuming- yet still a substance that would eventually kill me. Taimoor turned his face away, not bothering to give her a second glance.
"Thank you," I said coldly, remembering to whom I was speaking. She dismissed me, her eyes on my husband.
"You didn't return my calls or my messages. I need to talk to you Taimoor."
"Then talk," he was cold, indifferent stone.
"Here? Can we find someplace private?"
Hot blood rushed like fire through my veins.
"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here and now."
"Look I know we had our differences but-"
"Seher, it's so nice to see you."
"Zeenia," for anyone else, their honeyed tones would have been a testament to their long association but we knew that it was a pretty poison, infecting everything around them. "I was just talking to your brother and his lovely wife."
"That's nice but they need to get a move along, after all, they are the main couple."
"It's about Altamash."
The room became a vacuum without an ounce of breathable air. I swallowed painfully, both wanting and not wanting to know about this. The light flickered over the hard and unmoving lines of Zeenia's face before they chilled with a loud sigh, her posture stiff and awkward, and she forced some sort of pleasantness into her voice.
"What about him? My brother's been dead for five years. What's so important that you're here to tell us, in person?" anger colored her face, perhaps masking her hurt.
"He didn't die in an accident."
My movements froze as her words sank in, and when I took in the full, dark expression cast over Taimoor's face, my heart sank to the floor. It felt like everything was coming apart. Emotion swirled inside Seher, powerful and destructive.
"What do you mean?" Taimoor was impervious.
"He killed himself."
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Family secrets are coming to light! What do you think? Are we getting some answers? Man, I'm trying to wrap this whole wedding up but it's loooooong 🤭
Okay, so small update. I might have to get my laptop fixed so we might see an update closer to Saturday or Sunday. But I'll try to keep your Daimoor fix going in the meanwhile 😄
How was this chapter? Thoughts? Feedback? ✨
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