the door. Saliha was sitting in front of the dressing, slathering lotion on her face and hands. Walking over to the bed, Zafar bent down to the lower bedside drawer and pulled out a thick book which he normally kept there. Whenever he visited Pakistan in months, this book was always there for him. He lifted his legs onto the quilt, flipping aside the comforter, and sank his back in the heap of pillows.

Saliha was engaged in her nightly beauty care. She could barely take her eyes off the mirror.

"Saliha, when you are done, I need to talk to you," Zafar said in a relaxed tone.

"Everything's okay?" She didn't turn to look at her husband for that matter.

"Yeah." Zafar casted a gaze at his wife, noticing that she wasn't actually listening. He waited until she was done and then he could open up the talk.

Squirting some lotion in the palm, Saliha applied it on her arm. While doing that she looked at Zafar through the mirror. Then asked, "kiya baat hai?"

Zafar raised his gaze. "Are you free?"

"Kaam to kuch nahi hai."

"Mujhe zaroori baat karni hai tumsey."

Saliha got up. She was wearing long lavender nightie and light dupatta. Her expression displayed little concern.

"About what?" she asked, coming over to bed.

Zafar put the book on the bedside table. "Shehryaar."

"What happened?"

"Rishta karnay sey pheley kiya Shehryaar ki pasand pochi thi?"

"Did he say that to you?" Saliha asked.

"Yes."

Saliha pursed her lips.

"Did you ask for his choice?"

"What's the point of asking this question?"

"You knew when he was not happy with this proposal then why did you do it?"

Saliha breathed tensely. "What's so bad about this proposal?"

"It's disappointed me that you forced this on him. This is not how it works." Zafar was irritated.

"There is no point in talking about this. They are engaged now. After marriage he will learn to adjust."

Zafar rose his head up from the pillow, surprised. "Saliha, what are you saying? Do you even care about your son?"

Saliha didn't look into Zafar's eyes. She was adamant on her words.

"So what does he want to do now?"

"If you had asked him that before, you wouldn't had to see this day today."

"You know all of this can't happen now. And instead of taking his side, tell him it's late." She maddened.

"Saliha, try to understand. He doesn't agree with this relationship. You can't force him neither can I." Zafar tried to convince his wife, but she wasn't even admitting what she was doing was wrong. She was blinded by her selfishness.

"Don't you know how hard it is now? What will I say to Rubab?"

"Breaking an engagement isn't as bad as breaking the bond after marriage."

"I can't say this to my sister. There is no way." Saliha's eyes widened with disbelief. "How is this possible? What will Rubab say that if we didn't like this proposal than why did we ask Faiza's hand in marriage in the first place? It's something to think about before taking an action."

"In all of this it has been your fault. Now why are you backing off from admitting it?"

Saliha gasped in exasperation. She gave a look to Zafar and laid down on bed. Fluffing the pillow under her head, she turned off the bedside lamp.

Zafar looked at Saliha. "For once think about your son. If you love him then you wouldn't let this happen."

"Tomorrow you are not going to be the one facing all of this," Saliha reproached. "Aap ka beta, aap Kay jaisi soch."

"Have you ever thought from someone else's point of view?"

Saliha closed her eyes to ignore the matter.

"Relationships are not made like this." He picked his book from the bedside and opened back to where he was reading.

"Please, I need to sleep. Talk about this tomorrow." Saliha said in an unpleased mood.

"If you care enough to consider this issue."

Saliha turned and gazed at Zafar with sharpening anger. "Aap taanay marnay band karain. Mera bhi beta hai."

Zafar didn't bother to look at her in return and maintained his focus in the book.

Zoha's stomach growled with hunger. She grabbed her dupatta from the bed, fixed it around her neck and headed down.

Downstairs, the smell of cooking omelette permeated the entire kitchen. Zoha saw Saliha standing near the stove, holding the spatula.

"Aslam-e-laikum, Bari ammi," she said, joining her. "Bohat bhook lagi hai."

Saliha flinched. Zoha found it odd. She thought probably she scared her aunt by popping up from the back.

"Oh, Zoha." Saliha appeared little disturbed. "Good morning." She managed to smile.

"What omelette is this?" Zoha was curious.

"Bell pepper and tomato one."

"You made this one long time ago right?"

"Probably." Saliha seemed that she wasn't in the mood of talking. She flipped the omelette, left it to cook and transferred the big, formless egg to the plate. "Take this to the table. I already made the tea and put the bread there. If you want you can begin."

"Zoha took the plate from Saliha's hand. "Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

Saliha thought and said, "um- later. You go, I will come."

"And what about Manal?"

"I haven't checked. If she is awake I will tell her to come and join you," Saliha said and left.

Zoha felt as if Saliha was confused and concerned about something. It's weird. She didn't even speak to her properly.

At the table, Zoha was alone. No one to have breakfast with. She sat down anyway and made her plate. There was plenty of omelette. It was meant for others too. Probably she woke little early, seeing that nobody was here. But it was okay. She didn't mind. She was really hungry.

In the afternoon, there was laundry to do. She had small pile of clothes to wash. Since much of her homework was done she could easily do her chores.

She went to her room, picked the basket of dirty clothes and went to the laundry room. While the washing machine was in the process, Zoha thought to go out in the lawn. But it was striking sunny. So she ended up staying inside.

There wasn't much to do beside studying the notes for the exam which she didn't feel like doing. She sat in the living area and found a magazine to pass time. Around some time later when the machines were done, she took out the clothes and hung them on the line on the roof.

As she was coming down from the roof, she heard the noise of talking. It was coming from one of the rooms. When she listened to it the noise was of rather two people quarreling. Strange. She never heard two adults raise their voices against at each other in this house.

Zoha remembered that Saliha was not in a good mood in the morning. Probably something happened. But nobody ever told her anything, as if she was an outsider. They always discussed issues and important matters with each other and she was left out of it.

She stood on the stairs and quietly heard what they were saying.

"Go and ask Shehryaar what his wish is," Zafar remarked as Saliha stopped speaking.

"He already talked to you. Didn't he tell you what problem he has with this proposal?" Saliha sounded more tense.

"He told me that he doesn't like Faiza."

"Patanahi kis musibat mein dal diya hai is larkay nay."

"Try to talk to Rubab."

"What will she think. Aap itna aasan kyun samajtey hain. She is my sister. Kitna sadma hoga usko yeh sunn kar."

"Then Shehryaar should talk to her. I mean Faiza. They can handle this more than us."

There was no response from Saliha. Zoha was confused at first, but then she slowly comprehended the problem and also felt guilty. This was happening because of her. She knew it. Shehryaar probably told his parents that he couldn't marry Faiza.

How could he do this. Did he not know that it was late. They were engaged. What if he said that he was doing this because he liked Zoha. Then everyone would blame her for causing all the problem. Things just got better. Saliha was talking to her again. She needed to stop this. She couldn't make anyone upset.

All afternoon and evening, her mind was stuck on one thought, how could she stop this. Who could she talk to. No one was as close to her in this family. It seemed impossible. She didn't even feel like studying. She didn't care. The matter of resolving this issue was more important. She was restive from inside.

Instead of focusing on her work she closed the book and laid her head down in the nest of her arm on the desk. Her eyes were fixed at one spot. She endlessly watched at the window.

What if Shehryaar reveals the fact that he likes me to baray Abu and baray ammi? Then baray ammi will try be mad at me. After all because of me Shehryaar is doing this. But how can I tell him that it is not right. I don't want this to happen. I don't want to see the family tear apart.

It's bad enough to see baray Abu and baray ammi argue. What if it turns out into a bigger fight? Please Allah help me. Why does it happen that whenever something bad happens. I am the cause of it. I never wish for anything bad to happen. I just don't want it. I am tired of one problem after another. I wish I can just somehow stop this. It's humiliating me.

But somehow it's hard for me. I like Shehryaar and at the same time I don't want to loose him. He has always been there for me. How can I? Probably instead of telling him not to do this. I should help him. But I am afraid. I can't go in front of him and say it. It's difficult.

Zoha lifted her head up from the desk. She was scared and nervous. The hopelessness leaked from eyes.

What should I do?

She held her temples and closed her eyes. The thick layer of worry was pressing down on her. She felt muffled by her own quietness. There was no one she could share her feelings with. She thought, what if dadi was alive. Would she have let this happen to her. Never. She could never see Zoha sad. After all she was the eldest in the family. Everyone listened to her. Whatever decision she used to make it was the last and final one.

But things no longer went the way they used to. Now Saliha was like the head. Because she wanted Shehryaar to marry Faiza, so he had to. His thoughts were as something last to consider. Probably Saliha wouldn't let this engagement break. But Shehryaar? He might give into his mother's decision.

After coming home from college the next day, Zoha stayed in her room. She prayed Zuhr and invested sometime reading Quran. It always eased her worries and made her think positive. When she was done, she sat on the bed and fell in the chain of thoughts.

All night she couldn't sleep properly because of these thoughts. And she didn't know how to avoid them.

What do I do?

She asked herself many times and yet she still asked. She felt as if the walls were drawing closer to her, stifling her and she couldn't breathe. She was afraid of what would happen.

That's it.

She couldn't take it anymore. The pressure building inside was unbearable for her.

Now whatever happens, I will speak to Shehryaar. I can't stay quiet.

In the evening, Zoha stood by the window and looked out. She breathed in fresh air. Down in the lawn she saw Manal in her wheelchair with Zafar. They both appeared happy. Zoha noticed that the bond between the father an daughter was more stronger than before. Manal was calm and relaxed unlike before when she used to fuss about every little thing.

Since she couldn't walk on her feet (God knew for how many more days. Even months), she made Saliha or either Zafar spend long hours with her, giving her company. And she liked it a lot. She was sitting and watching the sky. Frequently she looked at her father and said something close to his face. Zoha wondered what they were talking about.

She overlooked them for a while then thought to do something else. Except, she didn't know what to do. None of her assignments were due the other day. There were two exams earlier in the week and after that she didn't have much work.

She sat on the rocking chair of her dadi and oscillated. Her head was rested and her eyes were drawn into the ceiling-bland. Thoughts began to crowd over. She closed her eyes.

Where am I stuck?

Is this really happening to me?

She needed to speak to Shehryaar, but instincts kept her from doing so. Somehow it wasn't right. Zafar was home. What if he saw her talking to Shehryaar and heard what she had to say. Would Zafar be upset to find this. But it was not Zoha's fault. She never meant for any of this happen. It was Shehryaar who loved her. He kept it hidden from everyone.

Probably Zoha could never be able to say what she has to say to him. She couldn't. It was too overwhelming for her. Every thought related to him troubled her. She couldn't blame herself and neither him. Then what was the other option.

It was better if she didn't share the concern. Then it would show that Zoha was unaware of what was happening. She was innocent. And Saliha couldn't say anything to her because she knew that Zoha was out of it. She wasn't the one for who broke the engagement. Zoha could never do such thing.

Shehryaar closed the laptop and put it aside on the bed. He was checking his emails. But Saliha called him to her room. So he went.

There was no one else in the room beside Saliha. She was sitting on the bed, head low. As Shehryaar entered in, she looked up- serious.

"Yes, mummy?" he said, just beginning to notice her mood.

Saliha stepped towards him. Her lips were sealed and she only gazed at her son for couple of seconds. Shehryaar didn't look back at her with direct eye contact.

"What is this, beta?" she asked. The tone of her voice was thick with disapproval.

"What?"

"You spoke with your daddy. Isn't it true?"

"You are talking about Faiza?" Shehryaar didn't like the tension that Saliha was pressuring down on him with.

"Why did you say you don't like her? What are your intentions?"

"Why can't I not say that? And it's not like my mind changed after the engagement. I was never in favor of this proposal. I did this because you really insisted me."

"So now you are saying that I should go to Rubab and tell her I am not interested in making Faiza my daughter-in-law anymore?" Saliha said. "What impression will my sister have on me. I can't hurt her like that."

"Then why did you do this in the first place."

"Your daddy at first and now you too? Are you both against me?"

Shehryaar held Saliha by both her shoulders. "No, mummy." He tried to ease the situation. "I don't mean to hurt you. In fact I would never. But think for a second. Will you be truly happy if I married Faiza after this?" He looked into her eyes.

"If you are thinking that everything is going to be fixed after doing this. No."

"Let whatever happen happen. At least now. Later will be too late and the loss will be great."

Saliha shrugged Shehryaar's hands from her shoulders. "If I knew that you would do this, then I wouldn't have ever done it." She was upset and mad. "I don't know what's going to happen. Of course I did it so I will face it."

Shehryaar was kind of annoyed by his mother's behavior. The more he tried to not make her sad, more she was being emotional. Of course after all there was some of Shehryaar's fault too, but not as much.

"Please, mummy." He spoke softly to make her realize that he wasn't wrong. "I am sorry for what you will have to go through. I truly am. Please."

Saliha refused to look at him. She moved away and sat on the bed.

"Is your problem that big?" she said.

Shehryaar didn't answer.

"Why don't you like Faiza? Is their any misunderstanding between you two that has become the cause of all of this?" She seemed hard on him by asking the question. "Huh?"

But he was quiet.

"Why are you quiet now?"

"Mummy, there is nothing like that." He sounded hesitant.

"What reason do you have on which you are doing all of this?"

"Not now."

"What? Tell me." Saliha's eyes were on him.

Shehryaar shook his head. "You are disturbed."

"Tell me. What are you hiding?" She insisted.

"Mummy, not now," he said. Before he was asked another thing, he left the room.