She was Shehryaar's finaceé now, along with Manal's best friend. She had strong relationship with everyone except Zoha, who was like an extra piece of chicken in the plate. Nobody gave her much attention. They ignored her like she didn't exist. An unheard presence. Faiza had the joy of coming to Saliha's house very often. She got to hang out with Shehryaar and know him more better. Talk about things that interested him. Discover their similarities. Create chance to be more closer to him. Saliha liked this act of Faiza. She was unworried about how Shehryaar would adjust with his life partner. Faiza held the end to all the doubts that Shehryaar tamed before the engagement.

Either it was day or night, she came over uninvited with a reason of meeting her best friend and Shehryaar when he was home. Manal was going to be her future sister-in-law. There were no suspicions that they would get along great.

Faiza was at Saliha's the whole afternoon. She spent her time with Manal in Manal's room. Saliha was out with Sajjid to supermarket. She ran out of some spices. It was time to stock up the pantry. The house was left under the responsibility of Rumina, especially the kitchen. Saliha didn't worry that much. She knew her maid very well, because she always did the things right and on time, avoiding the confrontation of her owner's wrath, which resulted in things organized.

Zafar was in his room, dozing, due to a bad headache. He took two Advil tablets, each one of 200Mg, which acted faster in alleviating the pain. He was used to this type of headache back in California. Shehryaar was as usual outside with Umair since afternoon. Zoha was in her room. Manal and Faiza didn't care what she was doing. It was better that she was out of sight. They were not in a mood to see her face. Whenever they saw her, they taunted her under their breath-rolled their eyes and scoffed at the dull-colored clothes she wore. But they never said anything directly. For them, she was inferior-possessed the habits of a low-middle class: praying five times a day, cleaning things like a maid, not finding suitable to talk to a guy, keeping her head covered with dupatta when going out. It was absolutely absurd and ignorant. Zoha had no sense of fashion, they thought. The modern world had no impact on her. Her mind was brainwashed by dadi's humble and virtuous teachings.

Such a narrow-minded girl, Manal called her. She was happy her mother was unlike dadi. So she didn't have to believe in ludicrous things. Awful to abide by such rules and strictness, (though dadi imposed no such a act on Zoha). Manal was out-of-grip from religion's influence.

Sitting on bed, flipping through channels on LCD, Manal nudged Faiza with her elbow.

"Yaar, there is not a even single good movie on tv."

Faiza distracted her glued eyes from the phone. "It's useless." She snatched the remote from Manal's hand, shaking her in surprise. "Do something else."

"Like what?" Manal was drawn in the boredom.

"Something- like. Wait." Faiza put the remote aside on the bedside and turned to Manal with a look, I-got-and-idea. "Why don't we plan to go out? Have dinner in a really good restaurant?"

"Me and you?"

"Yeah. We can also take Shehryaar with us."

"But mummy is out."

"You can call her." Faiza got off the bed, and fixed her crinkled outfit. "Is Shehryaar home?"

"He's been out since the afternoon. Like three. I don't know if he's back."

Faiza looked out the window at the driveway. One car was missing. "He hasn't come back."

"He should be back by now." Manal ignited hope. "You know what? Let me ask. I will text him." She grabbed the Samsung Galaxy from the tousled bed sheet. Then balked before her finger clicked the message app. A thought played in her head. "Don't you already message him?" Smirk leaked, like water from the crevice.

Faiza then fathomed why Manal looked at her that way. "You are very clever."

"What do you mean?" she said. "You are his fiancée. There is nothing to hide, acha? I know it."

"Still. It's private."

"So you're gonna hide things from your best friend?"

"No, Manal."

"Then?"

"Are you asking him or not?" Faiza was fully ready to text him. She was not in contact with Shehryaar since she came over to her khala's house. They often chatted on the phone. But sometimes he wouldn't reply. Seeing this, made Faiza think she was annoying to him that's why he began ignoring her. So instead of barraging him with more texts, she held patient, saying in her heart, he will reply. He can't just stop talking. We are going to get married. And live with each other forever.

"Okay, okay." Manal hastily typed the message in her phone. Then waited for the reply. Two minutes passed. No answer. She exchanged glances with Faiza, who kept piercing a glance out the window to keep checking for Shehryaar. It seemed that he would come now and then, honk for Sajjid to open up the gates.

Manal's screen was turned on to messages. She read the last texts from yesterday when she was at Faiza's house. Twenty hours ago. Then left her phone on bedside to use the bathroom. When she returned, she saw Shehryaar had replied. He said, I am on the way. Close by. This cheered her up.

"He is coming," Manal said to Faiza.

"Really?"

"You think I am lying? Read this." She showed Faiza the new text, less than a minute old. "Believe me now?" A huge smile stretched across her lips.

"I didn't say you were lying."

"So what's your plan?"

"Go out on a long drive, perhaps, then have a dinner at a restaurant."

"Okay." Manal was little unsure. She reconsidered what Faiza said. "But- it would be boring if we just stay in the car the most of the time. How about if we go to Seaview. It's a perfect weather."

"Okay that sounds good." Faiza peeked out the window once again, thrilled that Shehryaar was finally coming. Without him she sometimes felt alone. Now he was the purpose of her life. Someone to think about and look forward to meeting.

Without seeing Shehryaar's mood, Manal jumped in front of him like a five-year old, with a flashing grin, when kids do it to compel their parents of what they want. Shehryaar winced back, wrapped in confusion. He looked at Faiza for any clue to why Manal was acting like this.

"Bhai, can we three to go to Seaview?"

"You could have said this without attacking me," he said, taking a breath.

"I'm sorry. I was really excited. So can we?" Manal looked hopeful in his eyes, blocking him from going upstairs. "Me and Faiza planned it together."

Shehryaar flared his nose. His eyes were serious and shoulders stern like he came from running laps.

"I am not in a mood to go out anywhere," he said.

"What happened to your mood?" Manal whined.

"I have been out all afternoon. Seaview is a nice place. You go there when you are in a good mood, otherwise you get bored."

"I am sure you will feel relaxed once the cool wind hits you." She grabbed her brother's arm, trying to convince him. But he pulled away.

"I said I am not in a mood, so what don't you get?" he scolded. "Leave my way."

Manal was thrown in shock the way he responded rudely for the first time since he came to Pakistan. Faiza's eyes were snapped wide open.

"Bhai, is everything okay?" Manal ventured to ask, despite he appeared aggravated.

"Tell me how would somebody feel when they said they are not in a mood to do something and the other person keeps forcing them?"

Manal lowered her gaze: humiliated. She stepped out of his way.

"Sorry I didn't mean to be rude," he apologized. Irritation was less tense on his face, once he realized what image might have been created in front of Faiza.

"I should say sorry to you because I was-" Shehryaar interrupted her.

"It's okay." Generosity sweetened his tone. Then he went upstairs.

Faiza came and put her hand on Manal's shoulder. Manal looked up, seeming upset.

"It's alright. We didn't know he wasn't in a mood. We can go some other day," Faiza said.

"Yeah, I guess," Manal said, sounding low. "At least we can sit in the lawn." She tried to brush off the matter.

"Half of the day has passed. It's cooler."

They went and lounged in the lawn. Saliha came home at seven, taking two hour to get the grocery done. Sajjid assisted in dropping the bags in the kitchen. As there was no work to order him to do, Saliha unleashed her tiredness by joining the girls.

"What's going on?" She pulled the lawn chair under her butt and sat on it. Whenever she had shopping to do, standing constantly gave her muscles pain.

"We wanted to go to Seaview," Manal complained. "But bhai didn't want to go."

"When did he come back?" Saliha had noticed the car in the driveway. He went out before her.

"Six forty five," Faiza said, taking responsibility of knowing when he went out, when he came home. What did he do in the day. What foods he liked (because of him she had started cooking more, since he was little fan of Pakistani dishes). What interested him. She was preparing to become his wife.

"So he is inside?"

"He went to his room."

"It's boring staying home," Manal said. "I don't know who are those stupid people that like to stay packed in one place." She snided Zoha, looking in the direction of the study room window. The curtains were drawn over. She wasn't sure if Zoha was in the there. Or otherwise most likely in her room, worshipping textbooks. Manal never admitted that she somewhat envied her.

"Baba everyday is not fun," Saliha said. "Sometimes you get bored. Sometimes you find some activity to do. It's on you how you make everyday. Why don't you ever think about trying something in the kitchen?"

"There you go again." Manal hated to talk about home making things. She had determined to stay an untraditional girl. "All the needles get stuck at one thing. Cooking."

"I don't get why you keep a strong dislike for that," Saliha said.

"I do cooking too," Faiza said. "It's not that bad. Just try it once. You will start liking it."

"Even if I had hundred options related to cooking, I wouldn't choose any of them." Manal pulled out her phone from the pocket. "I can't stand oil and spicy masalas on my hand. They must burn my skin."

"That's a stereotype. Think out of your small box. Who told you that?" Saliha said. "Nothing like that happens."

"One time I saw Rumina rubbing her eyes after cutting green chili and they became red. She couldn't even open them." The same image was formed in her mind, when the name of cooking came up. She thought she would go blind if chili seeds went in her eyes.

"Oh khuda. I wonder what older things you have in your mind." Saliha touched her forehead, slightly hunched forward. "That was her carelessness. She must have forgot to wash her hands."

"Still." Manal was adamant.

"Okay then what do you like?"

"I like to plan everyday fun. Going out to different places. Watching a good movie in a theater-" Saliha interjected her.

"I meant in terms of productive activities."

Manal straightened back in her chair. "I don't know what productive activity means in your world."

"Khala means like getting busy in homely stuff," Faiza said.

"Oh." Manal acted like she was totally oblivious about the possible meaning. "That? I can try if I find it interesting."

"Don't be foolish. You know what I meant," Saliha said. "You are a big girl now. In fact engaged. Take some responsibility, beta. For how long you're going to be depended on me to do your things. Marriage is a big thing. A long and often tough journey. If you are not prepared then you will be left behind. Just think about when you will have kids."

Manal got alert all of a sudden. She didn't anticipate the conversation to veer off to this direction. Kids? It struck her unpleasant.

"Mummy?" She began groaning. "I am fighting boredom here and you're imposing the talks about marriage? Everything happens. There is no benefit in taking the stress. I don't want to get old from depression."

"Don't be that carefree." Saliha rose from her seat. "It becomes a stress when you overthink it. And you haven't thought about it once."

"Khala, your going?" Faiza said.

"Yes, beta. I have to put the grocery away." Folds of irritation lapped on her nose bridge. "Rumina must be inside right?"

"I am not sure. I didn't see her."

"And Zoha?"

Silence hewed the cordiality on Faiza's face. Zoha's name was enough to spill scorching lava down her heart.

"I don't know," Faiza said. She scoffed when Saliha left.

"Does your mummy like Zoha so much?"

"Zoha is stupid," Manal said, blatantly.

"Whenever I see khala, she at least brings her name once." Faiza leaned toward Manal over chair's arm. "Why is she even living here? Why doesn't she go and live at her own khala's house? She doesn't own this place like you."

"I did tell her. Then daddy brought her back. She is his only brother's daughter. I don't know what law exists that says it becomes the other brother's responsibility to take care of the children."

"What's gonna happen now?" Faiza kept throwing glances at the study room window like Zoha was watching her. She fretted what would happen in the future. "I really don't like her."

"You think I love her?" Manal laughed. She was busy typing a text to her college friend, often mixing up the words from the conversation into it. "Her face reminds me of the face of a victim who suffered from tragedy. So depressing, man." She said like it was no big deal for her.

"It's better she stays in the room most of the time. Can't see her around the presence of Shehryaar."

Manal took her eyes off the phone. "Haven't you become so protective about bhai? Tell me one thing." She shut the screen and fully faced Faiza, eager. "Have you seen any change in Shehryaar bhai? Like attention-wise? Being protective about you as you are about him?"

"I mean- kind of." The reply was dry as an autumn leave.

"What do you mean? He doesn't care?" Concern splashed on her face.

"No. It's not totally like that." Faiza was confused herself. She was part lost in thinking how exactly Shehryaar was to her. "He speaks politely to me. Gives attention. But is sometimes lost. Like his mind is somewhere else."

"Hmm."

"Maybe it will take time for him to settle with me."

Hope kept the candle burning. Manal was Faiza's best-friend and she always thought good for her. She wanted her relation with Shehryaar to become strong and unbreakable.

"Don't be strict with him. Give him space, then he will notice you more than before. Believe me." Manal put her clammy hand on Faiza's hand. "Just act normal. Don't let the anxiety show on your face."

"I know. I try not to."

"Good."

"Whenever I text him, he replies. So that's good."

"Great. Don't lose hope. Things will progress. I promise. And you know I don't break promises."

Faiza finally smiled. "Yes, of course. I sometimes think what would have happened if you weren't my best-friend."

Manal slumped back in her chair, heedless.

⭐️