I've been numb before. I've been hurt before. But nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever hurt me as much as the pain I felt piercing through me when Abaan uttered those words.

It was a truth many were unaware of, yet it was a reality I hadn't been able to come to terms with, let alone think of it when I let myself fall in love with a man who was unaware of my curse.

And I let him fall in love with me.

For the nth time, I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my head in between.

I wasn't crying, I couldn't cry. I was numb. And I couldn't face anyone.

I had ran right upto our room and locked myself in here, without waiting to see anyone's reaction. I don't remember how long it's been, but my solitude was disturbed twice, one by Fariyal, who practically begged to let her in, and second was Inaya, offering me to eat something. Bith were unsuccesful, thanks to my stubborn nature.

But none of those times had been Zaidaan. Even with the truth out, even while knowing that he'll probably need some time alone, even while understanding, a part of me hoped he'll come behind me,after all, he never walked away from me.

Maybe he will now.

But what scared me more than Zaidaan was his mother.

I may be young, but I was very much aware of mother-in-laws and their expectations. And one of them was bearing grandchildren, which I couldn't.

My blood ran cold everytime I thought of the things that Rubina Aunty could be thinking, and one of the worst scenarios was her asking me to divorce Zaidaan, or asking him to have a second marriage.

My mind was far from positivity, and this was worse than when I found out I couldn't bear children. I was barely seventeen, and eventhough I was normal with all those woman stuff, the pain I had spoke a different tale.

A tale which I wasn't aware would be of so much trouble in my marriage.

I was numb, I was hurt, I was angry, I was crying inside but all I could do was stare ahead with dry eyes, waiting for all of it to end, waiting for things to calm down.

Waiting for Zaidaan to return.

But he never did.

***

I shifted on my own weight, heaving a breath as my eyes opened once again.

I sheilded my eyes from the sunlight that entered, fallimg directly on my face.

Sunlight.

I stumbled and stood up on my feet, swaying at the sudden motion as I squinted. I had darkened the entire room, and certainly had closed the windows, the last I remember before I fell asleep.

I glanced at the swaying curtains, the sun was setting, it could be the time for Asr. Dusting myself up, I made my way to the washroom to freshen up a bit and make wudu.

On my way, I noticed a tray of food on the bed. My eyes widened as I realised it was pancakes, and even more when I realised that the only other person who had our room's spare key was Zaidaan.

There was no other way or no other person who could have entered. Feeling escatic yet heavy that he had been in this very room, I quickly prepared to pray.

I lifted my hands up to start praying, I felt my heart lightening up, the tightness in my chest leaving me bit by bit.

It was only at the last sajdah, did I realize that my face was soaked with tears. As I raised my hands up in prayer, the duaa that left my lips was nothing new, but it was the shaking of my body, the slumping of my shoulders, the way my heart broke at every word I uttered, the way the tears didn't stop streaming down, and the way my body racked with sobs that refused to escape me, did I realize how bad, just how bad of a mess I was.

The winds coming through the window seemed to caress me, trying to calm me down. I didn't know how long I sat there, but when I looked up, the sun had already set. It wasn't dark yet, but it was just the streaks of pink, purple and orange in the sky, announcing the depart of the last setting rays of the sun. It was the sky that lured me towards the balcony.

The wind wasn't strong, it was gentle, yet it manage dto loosen the shawl around my head, teasing the hair which managed to escape and fell on my forehead and cheekbones, framing my face.

Outside, I looked down to find Zaidaan standing, Fariyal and Inaya a few feet away from him. It seemed as if they were deep in thought.

None of them spoke, until, call it my ill fate, until Abaan walked in through the main gates.

His steps slowled down when he noticed the three of them standing together and, narrowing his eyes, he motioned for Fariyal,

"Get inside,"

It was difficult to clearly hear what he'd said, but Fariyal visibly shivered at his voice and followed his command.

Then, unfortunately, his gaze flickered up, and as his eyes met mine, I felt so disgusted that I wrappe dthe shawl tighter around me, preventing any of my hair to leave the walls of my hijaab and haya as he smirked and shook his head,the mirth in his eyes difficult to not notice.

What shocked me more was his tone with Fariyal, and the way she followed his command, the Fariyal I knew was not a bigmouth, but she was confident, and she knew when to speak her mind. She wasn't a slave, and to see her...scared was something very new to me. Fariyal was always bold, always. And the way she was behaving, it was out of my understanding.

My disgust and panic were probably mixed as he left, and I followed Abaan's figure until I could no longer see him. I looked back to see Inaya watching me, a look of utter sadness on her face, and I looked at Zaidaan, to find him running an agitated hand through his hair.

I gulped as his eyes met mine and his lips parted, and without anoter glance, I went inside.

This was just too much.

Not a minute later, while I was still on the prayer mat, the door opened to reveal a figure I was too well acquinted with.

I busied myself in tasbeeh, as he took a few steps inside, closing the door behind him.

My heart beat faster than it probably ever did, and thankfully, right then, the azaan for maghrib went off.

Thanking Allah, I hurried to pray before him while he went in the washroom, probably to make wudu.

By the time he came out, I was done with my fardh and as he stood infront of me, reading for salaah, he tilted his head to me,

"Pray, and do not leave this room until I'm done praying."

I closed my eyes at his voice and silently muttered a meek agreement and my heart fluttered at how he knew me so well.

And as he raised his arms to begin praying, something in my heart bursted into little fairy dust that then turned into butterflies in my stomach.

I was too confused as to what to feel, so I just prayed as much as I can that whatever happens, may it not hurt either one of us or anyone else, In Sha Allah.

A few minutes later, I was seated on the bed, with him standing near the balcony, his eyes gazing out.

"Eat." I heard him say, "and then we will talk."

When all I did was hug my knees to my chest, even if he couldn't see me, he sighed,

"You can't starve yourself, Kainaat."

I sighed, "I'm not, I'm just not hungry."

He turned to look at me, his gaze lingering on me for a breif moment before he turned to me.

Before he could say anything, I cut him off,

"Don't say anything now, please. I can't listen. Just...just take your time thinking about this."

He looked at me, confused,

"Think about what?"

I took in a breath, "Me. And the child you'll never have."

He irritatedly put his hands in his air "Kainaat! What are you-"

"Please, just...leave. Leave me alone."

His mouth dropped open, "What happened to never walking out on each other?!"

When all I did was push the plate away and pull the duvet over me, I heard him hiss in anger before walking out, slamming the door shut.

I closed my eyes. I was being unnecessarily wrong and stubborn, but I couldn't face him. Not so soon. Not when my mind was unclear.

I just closed my ees and waited for sleep to consume me, when all that happened was a headache and the grumbling of my stomach, I got up.

Eyeing the plate, I took a morsel in. Muttering an 'alhamdulillah' after every bite,I smiled to myself when even the cold food satisfied me. May Allah grant every poor person their rightful Rizq, Ameen.

Coccooning myself again,I was preparing for sleep to engulf me, when there was a knock on my door,

"Kainaat," it was Fariyal, "please. Please. Let me in."

There was a beat of silence,

"I need to talk to you, Kainaat. I need you."

I still didn't move, and I felt Fariyal shift closer to the door. A minute later, I heard her sigh,

"Fine, if you won't let me in, then I'll sit here and talk until you're fed up. If you are stubborn, then don't forget I'm your blood."

I facepalmed myself, why hadn't she shown this attitude to Abaan in the garden when he ordered her to go inside the house?

I wanted to yell it back, but I let it be, and eventhough I couldn't see, I knew she had leaned against the door.

She did this a lot of times when we were kids, even if I was wrong, she was the first one to mend our fight. Fariyal was like the mdeiator between everyone, preventing fights and avoiding rants.

"You know," she started, "this may sound like I'm being ungrateful, but I need to tell you this. You're the only one who can help me."

That got my attention, and despite my mind fighting a battle, I sat up as she continued,

"I'm sorry I'm telling you all this now, after he ruined your mental peace. I was gonna tell you as soon as you got back,but it looks like he knew I would, no wonder he came out about you like this. I'm sorry, Kainaat. I love you, I'm so so sorry you have to go through this. But Kainaat, he has ruined me more."

I heard her voice break at the end,

"He's killed me. Killed me alive, Kainaat. I'm not me anymore."

I stiffened up, I knew something was wrong, I could sense it. But what was it really so horrid?

I hugged the duvet as she continued,

"And no one knows. No one even guesses. I'ts like they can see, but they don't know what and how to do. I called mamma, and I could barely talk to her without breaking down. They called you, but your phone was not reachable. They know. Mamma and Abbu know but they don't know what do, Kainaat. Bhaiya doesn't, not yet, and I don't know what hapoening either but it's-"

I heard a sob, "He's changed. Abaan has changed Kainaat. Changed into something worse than," she took in a breath, "I don't know. This is inhuman. I-I can't breath, Kainaat, it's back. Help me."

I scrambled to my feet in an instant, I had noticed Fariyal's ragged breathing in the morning but I was more troubled by Abaan to actually ask her why has it returned, but now there was no denying that something very seriously wrong had happened. Something she couldn't talk about.

As fast as I could, I yanked the door open, causing Fariyal to stumble and nearly fall on her back at the sudden motion but she balanced herself, looking up at me, surprised, as my hair fell on my face and I all but looked at her wildly,

"What the heck did he do to you?"

***

Me and Fariyal left the room, after we had talked, and to say I was not in my senses was an understatement, if my mind was a mess before, it is a diaster now.

How did Fariyal bear all of it for three whole weeks? I don't know. If I was her, I'd have ran away.

Walking beside her, I let her take the lead as we entered the kitchen, and thankfully, it was only Inaya there.

She looked up as soon as we entered and rushed to my side,

"Oh my god, I was so worried. Are you okay?"

I gave her a smile, "Yea, I guess so."

Inaya looked at me with calculative eyes, she had the same eyes as Zaidaan, and I had to look away to stay focused.

As the three of us sat, Inaya took it upon herself to feed us, and as we sat their eating, for a minute it felt normal as no one spoke.

But that was until, Inaya spoke up,

"You both can tell me stuff, alright? I may be their sister,but I'm no less of yours, please tell me if there's anything I can do for you."

I squeezed her hand, "We know that."

Fariyal gave her a smile and I wished we didn't have to lie, but we couldn't drag Inaya into this.

Inaya and me weren't close, but I have known long enough to understand that she was a woman of sound mind and judgement,and someone who always did the right thing, no matter what it was.

A

s we ate bit by bit in silence, under Inaya's doubtful gaze, I felt my heart go out for my sister-in-law's care, and, unable to stop myself, I asked,

"How's Mom?"

Inaya gave me a smile,

"She's...okay. She even asked us if you were okay, you don't have to fear her, Kainaat, she'll come around. This is the Qadr of Allah."

I gave her a half nod. Well, that was unexpected.

Right when I got up to place my plate on the counter and wash my hands, Alviya, the cook, burst into the kitchen, panic on her face,

"Alviya," Inaya said, "what's wrong?"

She looked at me, "Kainaat Bhabi, please head up to your room. Zaidaan bhai has asked you to, because Abaan bhaiya is back at home."

Fariyal's eyes widened and she rushed out, my gaze following her steps. She looked just like me, running after him, running for him, blind in first love. And oh Abaan, such a...I didn't have words.

Seeing I was frozen to the spot and confused, Inaya grabbed my hand and dashed us up to her room.

I had never been to her room, and to be honest, I suddenly got a bit jealous of her aesthetic taste. Her room was beyond beautiful, I think it's true how they say that a person's room reflects their personality.

Locking the door behind us, she sighed,

"Just in time, he almost saw us!"

I eyed her, "What would happen if he did?"

She looked at me like I was kidding,

"Zaidaan Bhai told all of us to basically never let you and Abaan cross paths, because he figured you wouldn't like it, and also because if I saw him around you, I might just rip his head off. I hate Abaan."

My gaze softened, "Oh, Inaya, darling you don't have to."

But my sister wouldn't listen, "I refuse to believe any excuses for such behaviour. This is enraging!"

As she sat down at the edge of her bed i moved around the room, taking in the interior of her room.

"You're into poetry?" I asked as I saw a copy of Parvin Shakir's books on her desk.

She smiled slightly, "Not a huge fan, but Parvin Shakir hits different. She's the only one I understand."

I nodded in understanding, and looked at the qoutes she had framed around her. Most of them were motivational and inspirational, but there was one which specifically caught my eye,

"Inaya," I asked her, "who wrote this?"

She looked at the frame I was pointing at, and smiled, before her gaze lowered, and I saw her hide something in them as she said,

"That is a qoute from the first romance novel I ever read, I'm not a huge fiction fan, so when one of my friends forced me to read She Is My Hayaat on wattpad, I fell in love with it. That's the only book I read, though. Never been on that app again."

I grinned at her knowingly, it was the same book Husna had fangirled over, and eventhough I never read it, this qoute hit home.

"Pyaar toh hogaya aapse," I read it aloud, as Inaya watched me, "ab toh jaaney de. Intezaar ke ilham humse shuru, aur aap pe khatm."

Just then, a voice called out from outside the door,

"Inaya?"

My breath hitched in my throat, and Inaya searched my face for an answer, and when the knock continued, she went ahead and opened it to reveal an extremely messy haired Zaidaan, worry in his eyes.

When his gaze landed on me, he sighed, and I figured this was all he would say.

Bidding Inaya farewell, I walked behind him, back to our room, my eyes searching his all the while.

I had upset him, and I didn't know if I could just fix things right away.

When we were in the confines of our room, he went straight to the washroom to change, without as much as sparing me a glance.

I sighed and turned the lights off, closing the windows and waiting for him to come out.

When he did, I stared at him long enough until he looked back at me,

"Zaidaan," I breathed into the night air.

I heard him shuffle around until I felt his presence beside me, his scent igniting a fire in my chest that previously never existed.

Without a word, he pulled me closer and rested his head in the crook of my neck, grazing the sharpness of my collarbone with his nose as his breath fanned my skin.

I didn't think twice before encircling my hands around his neck and bringing him closer, before moving away and resting my head on his shoulder.

Neither of us uttered a word, and I knew things weren't normal either, but this silence was better than having to talk the situation out with Zaidaan. I wasn't ready for that yet.