They say forgiveness brings your heart at peace. But that's not always the case. Some people do you so brutally that there is left no reason for you to so much as even mull over the thought of getting them rid of the guilt they're dwelling in. Not forgiving them makes them suffer in their guilt and that's exactly what they deserve.

And Safa Hayat didn't care if she came off as cold hearted for this, but there was no way she was going to forgive Ameen Hashmi. She had suffered enough at his hands. And now the tables had turned. It was his turn this time. The only difference being the similar cause – him. He had done this to himself and she had no complaints, whatsoever, for letting him go through the ramifications. It was his sin, and he had to deal with the consequence. Come what may!

Engrossed in her thoughts, she was unpacking her bag and even though Asmara had offered to do it for her, she had declined saying she needed something to keep herself busy.

But what did she know that from now on the focus of her entire being had become one person only. And no matter how much she tried evading him, his thoughts would always come back, crashing on her. Just like right now, when amidst the unpacking, her eyes settled on the particular article of clothing.

Hi jacket.

Her hands froze midway and with the rage that resided on her face and goosebumps that took over her entire body, her breaths strangled in her throat. With slightly quavering hands, she retrieved that black fabric out of the bag and the familiar scent of musk and mint that hit her engulfed her with nostalgia.

When he had wrapped that jacket around her frame.

She all too well remembered that feeling. The feeling that had comforted her and assured her she wasn't alone. That someone out there felt her pain and understood it.

That man had always managed to make her feel safe without even wording anything out. That day in the cold hospital hallway when he had held his hand up to assuage her, but stopped midway because he knew it would make her uncomfortable, so he just sat there in silence, comforting her with just his mere presence.

But now, everything had gone down the drain. None of that mattered anymore. He had betrayed her and that was it. No amount of him being nice would ever be able to reverse that because it was all part of his plan...she thought.

Pulling the dupatta back on her head and draping the cashmere around herself, she pulled her journal out from the other pocket - the journal that held all her dark secret. It was time to destroy it along with him, too.

Stomping out of the room, she rushed towards the kitchen. Grabbing the bottle of kerosene oil and match stick, she ambled out of the annex with fury taking ahold of her, her face crimson and nostrils flared in sheer anger and hurt.

On reaching the destination, she finally came to a halt. With the black canvas that spread out as far as the gaze could reach and quietness that pervaded the surrounded, that silver ball was nowhere to be seen tonight. Just like her life.

Pitch black with no light. No silver lining, whatsoever.

Gathering the sticks, she threw some kerosene oil on them. Her hands shivered erratically as she scratched the match stick on the side of the box. She attempted once again and this time the box fell from her hands. A harsh groan left her mouth as she bent down and picked it up again. Two more attempts and she was able to light the fire.

The orange hue reflected in her eyes, akin to the one igniting inside of her. Without any further thought, she threw the journal and the jacket in the fire, burning his memory with it till nothing remained but the ashes of them. Of him.

She watched the scene with steely eyes, standing there alone, the mountains surrounding her the only witness.

"I'm here with you. We'll get through this."

He had once said. And yet here she was, all alone.

She sniffed as the memory of him hugging her replayed in her mind and she shut her eyes close. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she bent on it and a slight moan escaped her lips. And the next thing she did wasn't something she anticipated.

Lunching towards the fire, she pulled the jacket out, her hands burning along. Along with the memories she thought she could burn. Little did she know burning him meant, burning herself because that man had already dissolved in her soul like a contagious disease.

She bent down on her knees and thrashed her hands on the jacket to extinguish the fire, not caring about the pain her hands were experiencing for it was nothing compared to the one her heart was going through at the moment. Her heart that had succumbed to that man long ago, that too knowingly, which had made it more difficult for her to erase him from her life.

Once she had put the fire off, she pulled the half burned jacket to her chest and hugged it with all her might, letting out a sharp breath she didn't know she was holding. The scalding liquid in her eyes cascaded down her face as it lost somewhere in that piece of cloth.

Azlan Shehryar had been ignited in Safa Hayat's soul like fire and only he was the water that could extinguish it.

Completely absorbed in his memories, she didn't know when Asmara reached there and put her hand on her shoulder. With a jolt she shot her head in her direction and slid back a little.

"God, you scared me." She gasped.

"No, you scared me by disappearing again..." She seethed out when her gaze settled on her tear stained face. "You're crying." Her brows stretched in frown and worry as she bent down to Safa's level. "What happened, Safa? Why are you crying?" Her voice was so smooth and concerned and it made her cry only further as she let the river lose.

Asmara's eyes swiveled across her face in horror. This was the first time she was seeing Safa crying. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around her, engulfing her in her embrace. Just what that broken woman needed, right now, as she rested her head on the crook of her neck and continued crying while Asmara messaged her back.

With her crying in front of someone, Asmara knew she must have been torn brutally because, Allah knows, Safa Hayat never cried in front of anyone.

"Let it all out, meri jaan!" She whispered as she patted her head but what Safa said next slipped the ground from beneath her.

"I'm a murderer, Asmara." She whimpered.

Once color after another settled on Asmara's face as her hand stopped midway on her back.

"I've murdered someone in cold blood and I've enjoyed it, too."

With the horror that had occupied Asmara's face, and heart that had stopped beating, she stared at the woman she had never seen before.

"What are you talking about?" She barely managed to speak. "If...it's another one of your lame jokes...trust me, it doesn't even qualify for that category." She stammered.

"It's the truth." She pulled away and looked straight into Asmara's eyes, and she knew this time Safa wasn't kidding.

"You wanted to know the truth, right?" She chuckled humorlessly. "Well, here it is."

The long silence that ensued was deafening for Safa. She was going to lose her best friend now. But again, who in this world she loved that she did not lose? Sooner or later, everyone leaves and that's the bitter truth. Her fate. Her reality.

"It's okay if you don't want me to live with you anymore. I understand." She chirped, looking somewhere far away. But no reply came as Asmara sat there in dread.

Of all the things she could have imagined, this wasn't even the least. Safa, a murderer? How was this even possible? How did she never get a hint? And then she remembered her joke about the ad of a serial killer on the loose that had freaked Safa out to no extent. It didn't make any sense to her back then, but now everything fit perfectly.

"I'll just go and pack." Safa's voice pulled her out of her reverie.

"What? No!" She craned her head at her as she almost squealed. "You can't keep me hanging like this again. I'm not going to let you. I need to know everything."

"That is everything." She stressed. She didn't have it in her to narrate the harrowing tale of her cruel life.

"Ya, and I'm daughter of Indiana Jones." She deadpanned.

"This is no time to joke."

"And I'm not." She folded her hands on her chest. "Do you really think I'll believe that Safa Hayat who can't even kill an ant, can kill a human without any reason? You killed that person which means there must be a strong reason behind it. Plus, it's not the past that defines us but the present."

Her words left Safa awestruck as she moved her eyes towards Asmara in disbelief. Of all the reactions she had anticipated, this wasn't something that crossed her mind for even a second, partly because she didn't want her expectations to be high. It's not that she didn't trust Asmara; God knows, she did. But how could she expect her, or anyone for that matter, to react in her favor on her darkest secret? But this woman, right here, never failed to amaze her, and only Allah knew how much she loved her for that.

"It all started when his proposal came..."

And there she went, on and on, narrating her fateful life, and as she treaded on the stagnant waves of her unbridled life, mountains took a bow for the warrior whose voice resonated around the premises, and leaves stilled as they held their breath in scrutiny and sheer awe.

"...he killed me every day with the filthy touch of his hands. So I killed him with the graze of my knife."

By the time, she ended, Asmara's face was completely drenched in tears while hers a blank canvas with no emotions, whatsoever, as if she was pro at enduring so much pain.

"I...I'm so proud of you, Safa." She voiced through her clogged throat as she hugged her tightly. "I won't say I'm sorry for you because there's nothing left to be sorry for anymore. You didn't leave anything to be sympathized with. You took the matter in your hands and fought for yourself like a queen that you are. So yes, I am not sorry for you. I am only proud and in awe of the strong lady who's my best friend, and I'll forever love you for your resilience."

And there, after years, Safa Hayat had finally felt a huge burden lifting off her shoulders. For the longest time, she had kept all this inside herself and needless to say, it had been killing her gradually. But now that she had let it out, it felt somewhat light. As if someone had lifted a heavy brick from her chest and threw it somewhere far away. Surely, sometimes sharing lessens the pain.

******

A/N

Short chapter, I know. But I wasn't home for a few days. Also, Eid exhaustion, even though I'm a complete kaamchor and don't do anything, wasn't leaving. But I managed to write this chapter somehow and now I'm gonna go crash.

Hope you liked it.

Xoxo.