With the night sky hovering outside, I sneakily climbed out of my window and began rushing towards the back gates. Upon reaching them, I huffed as I eyed the elderly guard and his wife with wary.

"Please, just let me escape," I pleaded, looking at Mrs Muneer. Mr Muneer-the elderly guard- had been our family guard for so many years. He was old and fatherly. In fact, I often had Pinky take warm muffins and tea to Mr Muneer. He was a soft person; very loyal to our family, and I knew to convince him to deceive Iyaz would be near impossible. Yet, I knew Pinky could. Oh, how I missed that friend of mine. Pinky had been such a wise shoulder for me. And sadly, I had been too late to listen to her advice.

Nearly on the brim of crying, I watched as Mrs Muneer gave me a sympathetic look and spoke, "My daughter, don't cry. There is a train that leaves in an hour down the west side of the town. Take it and go home. Muneer will handle Mr Iyaz here. You just go and take care of yourself. I know you are suffering majorly, and I won't allow your pain to be put on my conscience. Go!"

"Oh, thank you so much, Mrs Muneer," And with that, I was rushing out of the gates, into the night shadows. My mind was in a tangled mess as I ran down the busy streets and stopped a cab.

The cab seemed to have a rather creepy aura, yet I didn't care as I ordered for the cab driver to take to the west side train station. My plan was to rush back home to my parent. No more looking to hide my pain from them, I wanted their embrace and support. I had been crushed enough to not being able to deal with Iyaz' psychotic ways all by myself. He was a messed up, deranged man; possessive, cruel, and a liar I was hating how he had me completely fooled.

Upon reaching the train station, I handed over the driver some change and rushed to book a seat. After booking a ticket, it took 20 minutes for my journey back home to begin. And soon, I was rocketing back and forth in a shabby train, riding all the way back to my parents. Finally!

Huge tears were falling down my face as I stood on the front porch of my parent's house, waiting for someone to open the door.

"Yes?" My mom curiously opened the door, and her expression turned wide at my sight. "Mahira, what are you doing here?"

"Mama, he is so much a mess!" I cried, immediately moving forward to hold my mom close. She returned the gesture.

"There, there, my child," She cooed. "It will be alright. Now come in. Let's get you settled in." I loved how instead of pondering me with questions, Mom was looking to take care of me first. She had always been there for me, and running back to her warm arms was the best decision I could ever make. My family was the best, and I felt like, for the first time in a long while, that everything was just going to turn out fine. I could get through this.

The next couple of days went by with my family worrying about my sudden appearance and allowing me some space. They hadn't forced me to tell them anything, yet, once, when sobbing to my mom, I had told her everything. She had no insight, wise words at that moment, just warm soothing support, but that was all I needed.

Now walking downstairs from my room, I headed towards my lounge, drinking a cup of tea. I was in a healing mood, nowadays.

Walking into the lounge, I saw that my father had already left for work, with my mom sitting on the long sofa, having an old journal placed on her knees. At my arrival, she gave me a tender smile and gestured me to sit beside her. I obeyed.

"Morning, Mom," I spoke, sitting beside her. She didn't reply as she eyed one picture with a rather nostalgic gleam in her eyes.

"Mahira" She replied after a few minutes, making me look at her curiously. "Do you remember your first painting?"

"You still have that?" I asked, bending over her shoulder and looking at the drawing she was looking at. "You gave it to me because our little Iyaz was going to take it from you. He wanted to keep your first painting." She smiled.

"Wait, I knew him when I was little?" I frowned, looking at mama with surprise.

"Yep," she nodded. "He was so different when young-such a sweet boy. That's until his father got into a gang business; was jailed, and his step-mother fled with all of his money. The poor boy was left to be taken care of by his father's cruel family friends until his grandparents took him in. It was sad yet tragic. But the way his grandparents brought him up, I believed that he was totally over his past. I guess not. I am so sorry, my daughter, for placing you in this mess. If I had-"

"Mama," I immediately stopped my mother, believing this wasn't any of her faults. "It's not your fault, please. Now tell me why was Iyaz left to be taken care of his father's family friends?"

"Because his father had almost sold him. His grandparents brought him back, but I learned about it too late that the price of getting him back was that him, at the age of twenty, would have to marry the daughter of that cunning family. That woman, Nadia, is a widow with a son, and Iyaz was made to marry her. Your father just found out a few days ago about this ordeal. He is so hurt." My mom supplied, making it all so clear to me. That is why Iyaz was this. His brain worked that way because his father was a messed up person. He had been sold to some cruel people. It made so much sense now, and I couldn't help but feel a pang for Iyaz's extremely rough past. He had been through so much.

"Mama," I now leaned my head against my mother and sobbed. "What am I supposed to do?"

However, before she could answer, our helper 'Aleezah' stepped into the lounge and announced.

"Ma'am, Iyaz sahib is here."

"What? Iyaz is here?" I immediately straightened up.

"Yes." And surely enough appearing from behind her was Iyaz looking extremely messed up and angry.

"You left!" He sneered, not even taking in regards that my mother was present in the room.

"Yes." I stood up, demonstrating my courage. My family was the reason for this courage. "I am leaving you, and you just have to deal with it."

"LIKE HECK YOU WOULD!" Iyaz growled, stepping forward. "You won't leave me. You will come home, like my sweet, little wife, and you will be done with this nonsense. Am I clear!"

"I-I-"

"Don't you dare shout at her!" My mom spoke before me. "I will call the police if you don't leave!"

Hearing that threat, Iyaz's anger immediately dissipated and he adopted a pleading stance.

"Mahira," He turned vulnerable and desperate, moving to stand before me. In a caring manner, he moved to tuck an invisible lock of hair behind my ear. I quickly stepped back. "Don't you care about me anymore? Come back. I need you back home, with me." He continued, nearly shed a tear, ignoring my attempts to snubbing him.

Trying to remain strong, I breathed in and spoke softly, "I do care about you, but you don't." I sighed, peering into his confused, pleading eyes. "You are messed up. You think it is okay to lie, but it's not. I know about your past. I know why are you this way, but I can't tolerate this-can't tolerate you keeping me out of your other side of your life."

"She means nothing to me" he persisted, making me give him a bitter smile.

"I don't want that. I just wanted you to keep me a part of your life, but you decided to have a family that had no space for me. You chose to keep me hidden."

"Okay, I will let go of everything else. I will start dealing with my mess. Just don't say you are leaving me, please. You are my wife. I-I don't know what I will do without you." He nearly cried, making my heartache...weakening my stance.

He had been an obsession for so long. He had been so kind, caring and respectful, yet I never knew how messed up he really was. He was a sheer mess, and I think a full open confrontation about all that we both had been through was vital now. He needed to fully explain why he had decided to keep his other family a secret, to not be honest with me, and I had to make my mind about whether he was mendable; I needed to give him one more try.

"Okay," I sighed, after a few minutes. "Here is how it's going to be. You are going to tell me exactly you married me when you already had a family, and I am going to listen. And only after that, will I decide about staying, fine?" I offered, making him smirk mischievously.

"I knew I could make you get over your sweet little tantrum. Uff...the price a man has to be for having such a sensitive wife." He joked. That's it. He was never going to be serious, was never going to deal with reality.

"You are impossible," I announced. "Leave my house-"

"Enough!" My mom shouted from behind us. "Stop this immature behaviour. I wouldn't tolerate it in my house. Iyaz, you have hurt my daughter long enough. She doesn't want to go back home, so just accept that. I am willing to give you the choice of leaving our place on your own, or else I am calling the police, understood?"

"I won't give up on her." Iyaz adamantly shook his head, staring at me. I will continue fighting for her, for the rest of my life." His declaration made me feel so hurt. What was going on inside his head? Why couldn't he just give me this freedom?

"Then change your ways, talk it out, go and get help from some doctors, mentors. I won't let my daughter get hurt anymore. She has given up on you. You should, too," Mama scowled, making Iyaz look at me with a broken expression.

"You really have given up on me?" he sounded so lost.

"Y-yes," I hesitantly nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Okay," And with that, he walked out of the lounge. He was hurt. I could see in his eyes that he was hurt. And sadly, I couldn't do anything about it. I have done with his insanity-so done, and that hurt.

After seeing him leave, I turn around and hugged my mom. Holding her tight, I cried and cried until all the pain, anxiety and confusion could leave my soul. I was feeling so alone.

So, this was our final goodbye.

So pitiful