Running one hand through his mane of thick hair, Iyaz clenched his jaw and chewed on a match stick. He was in a foul mood as he arrogantly stood before Jehan in his living room, listening to Jehan's investigation on his wife's whereabouts.

Iyaz had been furiously driving back from the agency that provided him with his staff when he had got a call from Jehan informing him about attaining some information about Pinky's whereabouts. Swerving his car towards his mansion, he had literally screeched his way home. It was terrifying how much of a guttural beast he had turned, nowadays. He was truly a nightmare; continuously barking harsh orders at his employees and firing people. It was actually surprising how his personal manager had still been able to keep his job.

Now crushing the match stick, he threw it on to the marbled floor and pressed it under one of his royal leather shoes.

"So you mean to tell me that you have found out that Pinky used to live an old, abandoned children's homage, but you have no idea where she lives now?" Iyaz confirmed. The fury in his voice was tangible, yet his expressions, somehow, seemed controlled.

"Umm...y-yes, but I am-m working on-"

"Silencio!" Iyaz now grabbed Jehan by his collar, rattling him like a toothpick and then picking him up. "You are wasting my time. If I don't find my wife by tomorrow, it will be your measly self who has to pay for it. Get out of here, and find her whereabouts, NOW!" And with that, he threw Jehan across the marble floor, making the poor man visibly tremble, while getting up, and race out of his mansion. Quivering echoes of 'Of course', Mr Iyaz' could be heard following after him.

It was nearly one in the morning when this episode had taken place, and feeling too consumed with pint up energy and anger, Iyaz dialled one number who had been calling him for hours. Nadia seemed to be nagging about how Shahmeer was missing his father. She knew that Mahira was missing. She knew that he was busy, upset and fuming, yet she still dared to NAG.

Dialling her number, he simply barked that he was coming to pick up the family for late-night dinner and ended the call. Shahmeer was his step-son. He was tolerating Nadia only for him! Also, Iyaz was willing to refresh his brain, because, from tomorrow, he was going to make sure that Mahira was back home.

*****

I slipped.

While sitting on the couch in my room, I slipped. I didn't mean to. I was actually doing well in avoiding all thoughts about Iyaz, but I slipped when I found an old card, which had been given to me by Iyaz, tucked away in the back pocket of my suitcase

He sounded too sweet, had written such beautiful words for me. In the card, he was apologizing to me for making me feel insecure when someone had sent a gift box for him. He claimed that it came from his friend. I had decided to keep that card forever. This is what had made me smile and fight for us. I had tried to stay strong, only to realize now that there wasn't anything to fight for. I was a fool.

I should have gotten the clue when even at our home-party, he had more interested in putting up a façade than truly enjoying the function. He had seemed so kind in front of the crowd, had so many people envy us. Yet under his whispers, he was constantly scolding me to stay near...never disappear from sight.

He had acted jealous, over-protective; allowing no one to earn my attention. And whenever I tried taking part in conversations his glare would shut me up. At that time, I had thought that this was him just being impulsive, concerned and protective. Some men tend to be irrational when they care, but sometimes, these instructions are simply a sign of arrogant men trying to keep their egos at content.

Some men keep their wives as sole listeners and insult them only to feed their own ego. Weak, fairy-tale-admiring girls like me fall for such traps; they allow their hands to be grabbed in the crowds, due to the notion of believing that the hold is keeping them safe. Yet they don't realize that the same hand, which is guiding them in crowds, is stopping them from moving forward, from actually becoming something in life. Emotions ruin if they are allowed to be manipulated. And sadly, I am a victim of this mistake.

Now wiping away the tears that had formed at the corner of my eyes, I pushed the nostalgic card back into the suitcase and headed towards the bookshelf. I needed to lighten my mood by reading something. The sun had just risen up, and its rays immediately fell on me from a small window that was right next to the bookshelf.

I started reading a story about a young girl who was extremely shy. That girl reminded of me. I was a shy and awkward person, always invisible at social gatherings, and now as I continued reading the book, seeing the young girl gets left behind by her fiance (who ran away from with an interior designing diva) on her wedding day, I frowned.

Rich and confident, that was Iyaz's second wife. Perhaps, Iyaz knew how he deserved someone like her. I was an awkward girl who rambled when nervous and was too shy to voice out her opinion. If Iyaz hadn't been forced into this arranged marriage, he would have never picked me.

Suddenly a knock on the door snapped me out of my daze, and I turned towards it.

"It's open."

"Mahira," A hesitant voice echoes behind from the door. "Tanvir told me how you still haven't been given a tour of our house, so if you like, I am free." It was Huma. Her offer actually made me smile.

"Sure, I would love that," I accepted.

It was time to let go of old memories by replacing them with new ones.

Walking out of the room, I smiled at the sight of a chirpy Huma rocking on her heels, expectantly waiting for me. At my sight, she immediately jumped forward to loop her arm around mine. She was actually a very nice girl, bubbly and super-kind. We had already become friends. She was quick to befriend a person.

Tanvir's farmhouse was extremely homey and beautiful; it comprised of 3 floors, with the living room, kitchen, and two rooms on the ground floor. Three sets of rooms on the first floor and the attic on the second floor. However, only I was occupying one of the rooms on the first floor. The rest were left completely vacant and white. Wealth seemed to be a clear component of this household, making me ponder over why Pinky had opted to work for me. She was from such a wealthy background.

Now climbing up the attic, Huma giggled as we entered the dusty, small attic filled to the brim with boxes and a tiny window on its right wall. I sneezed because of its stuffy smell.

Shifting some boxes away, Huma switched on the bulb light and made space in the middle of the attic, gesturing me to sit down.

Still sneezing, I patted away the dust from the place I was about to sit and settled down. Huma was chuckling at my allergic side. She seemed to be eyeing me as a sensitive person. I was. I had lived an extremely sheltered life.

After finally managing to get used to the dust, I curiously watched as Huma sat opposite me, pulling a small box to herself and opened it. She pulled out a small, shabby journal from the box and gestured it towards me.

"Here is our old family journal. Open it."

Nodding, I opened the journal and smiled at the first set of drawings pasted in it. A family tree was been drawn, with people's name written with a red crayon. I frowned.

"Where hasn't Pinky's name been written?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the cute, adorable handwriting. There were just words. Only words.

"Oh, we hadn't adopted her and Eesa-our big brother-at that time," Huma informed, making my eyes widened.

"Adopted?" I reiterated, raising my head to look at her.

"Yep, Mama and Papa adopted Tanvir and Eesa when Tanvir was ten years old and Eesa was thirteen. Their mother had abandoned them years ago.."

Hmmm. I didn't know that.

So Pinky and her brother had once not being a part of this family.

"That's the reason Tanvir is always working away. She feels like a burden," she continued, with an edge of sadness in her tone.

"I-I..."

"Promise me," she suddenly moved forward to grab my hand. Promise me that you will be there for Tanvir. She really needs someone in her life. Mama and I have tried our best to assure her that we love her, Eesa, but she doesn't get it. She being from a different background makes her believe that she and her brother are not lovable." She requested, peering deep into my eyes.

I didn't know what to say. This actually explained a lot; it explained why Pinky was working for me, why she never talked about her family. She was adopted and alone.

Feeling extremely sympathetic and determined for my good friend who had been there for me during my low, I squeezed back Huma's hand and gave her a wide smile.

"Don't worry. She has been there for me. I will surely be there for her." I assured.

Huma beamed in delight.

This was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.