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To say that she was nervous would have been a huge understatement, he knew. But what she didn't know, and he would do everything within his power to make sure that she wouldn't know, was exactly how nervous he was. For all he knew, it could be a monumental disaster, a catastrophe, but he had to try.

There simply was no other way!

He watched her get ready in a simple peach coloured suit and a matching hijab. No jewellery and no make up. The simple Mayra he knew and loved. She needed no adornment to enhance her beauty for he believed that it was just too perfect to be enhanced! He had been mesmerised by her since the beginning of their marriage, though he had adamantly refused to acknowledge any feelings for her except disgust and hatred, he knew -quite hypocritically - that even then he couldn't stop himself from developing a huge infatuation with her.

And with the months and years that followed, he believed that with her forced retreat into her shell, courtesy of his insane anger issues, he would grow out of such childish feelings and desires. And then life handed him the biggest reality check ever - his paralysis.

He knew that some people could at least speak or express in their states of paralysis, and there were others who slipped into comas along with their paralysis and could not feel a thing. He would have preferred either of those. Neither could he stop himself from seeing, hearing and feeling things, nor was he able to communicate anything despite his senses working absolutely fine. One could not be trapped more torturously than that.

In those hours, days and weeks of complete loss of his own body, Aamir realised that his infatuation with Mayra had turned into fascination and adoration, while his hatred and disgust were slowly being wiped away. When that had converted to love, he didn't know.

Only when a man is knocked down from his high and mighty pedestal into the grips of loneliness and despair, when his own faculties fail him, when utter uselessness makes it very easy to differentiate between those who truly love you and those who appear to do so, that's when a man learns the hardest lesson of life. The lesson of his own self-worth, the price of his pride and questioning the need for an ever-present ego.

That was a lesson Aamir had learnt dearly and it had come at a very high price. Almost at Mayra's life.

"Stop fidgeting!" Farhan admonished his son at the breakfast table who was shaking his legs so hard that the entire table had started to shake and the cutlery was rattling. "You'll make her even more nervous!"

Aamir glanced at the end of the table where Mayra was seated trying bravely to swallow some food past the lump in her throat that just wouldn't go away. Her gaze was fixed at her plate and she knew that everybody else's gazes were fixed upon her yet she refused to meet their stares head on. She wasn't prepared for any confrontations. God Almighty knew how she barely managed to pull herself out of bed for this 'session'.

Her bed.

It had been harder than she had ever imagined. Returning to the room that had been a prison for her for two years had been hell in itself. When she tried to close her eyes, she would have nightmares of Aamir throwing a glassful of water in her face to wake her up for another beating. When she would arise, she would have a moment of panic upon realising that she was in his bed and that he would definitely punish her for that. But by the time she would wake, his side of the bed would be empty and he would be showering, getting ready for office. When she would sit outside in her balcony trying to relax in the silence, her heart would be fearful that he would come back home angry from an bad day at the office and seek his coffee-making, awful-looking, miserable little punching bag.

She was still fearful of an awful lot, things that she couldn't even confess to her own self honestly, how on earth was she going to be able to talk to a stranger about it? A stranger who was a man!

"Mayra?" Aamir called her. "Are you done?"

She pushed her barely touched plate - still full of food - away and nodded. Aamir looked at her plate and sighed. He knew it. The first thing to be affected whenever she felt nervous or scared was her appetite. He would have to ensure she would make up the loss in her lunch.

"Shall we go?"

Another nod.

Aamir walked to her chair, helped her up and supported her as she walked. Till the cast came off of her fractured leg, she would need support because she wobbled while walking, looking dangerously close to a nasty fall. A chance that no one in the family were prepared to take.

Farhan got up and took her hand. "Aamir get the car, will you? I'll walk Mayra there."

Confused, Aamir looked at his father who gave him his best glare. Message - do as I say, now!

Mayra watched Aamir walk out the main door and she turned to smile at her dear father. "Thank you, Papa."

"It's ok sweety! What are fathers for?" Farhan smiled down at the tiny woman whose innocence had made him swear to protect her from the moment he lay his eyes on her as his future daughter-in-law. She was to him exactly what Zara was, a precious princess. He would never forgive himself for the hurt she bore while she was under his roof, at the hands of his own flesh and blood.

"Mayra, are you ok with this beta?" he asked carefully.

"I.. I think so Papa." Mayra whispered, unable to lie to this great man whom she loved so dearly.

"Look, dear, if you're not comfortable with this, you can stop it at any time. No one is going to force you, ok? Just say the word and in no time you'll be home. I've already instructed Aamir. He'll do exactly as you say, all right?"

"Yes, Papa." Mayra nodded. She lowered her head as Farhan pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

"You are my daughter, Mayra." He said solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. "Never ever forget that."

Mayra smiled at him and squeezed his hand as he walked her to the car where Aamir picked her up and placed her in her seat, as gently as he could. She waved as the car pulled out of the massive gates and Farhan sent out a quick prayer to God for this little experiment to turn into something positive for his daughter.

Aamir was torn between racing the car to their destination to have the session started and to slow the car down to snail's speed to comfort Mayra. The way her hands were shaking, her eyes staring at the passing scenery and the plunging silence in the car were all proof of her fear. He didn't want to push her into doing this but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. Was he pushing her too hard and too fast? Should he have waited before urging her to do this? Should he take her back?

The furious honking of the car behind them broke his train of thought as he realised he was holding up the traffic at the cross-road. Mayra was simply looking at him. Muttering a curse under his breath, he drove ahead refusing to think of anything else except that they had to do this. It was too late to back out anyhow.

Aamir parked the car in front of a chic, modern office building and Mayra was confused looking at it. Was this where this man worked?

Aamir helped Mayra up and walked with her to the elevator. The two of them were alone in the lift as it rose up to the twelfth floor and the door opened silently. Taking a deep breath, Mayra stepped forward.

Aamir watched as Mayra took in the interior of Gaurav's office. Brightly lit with massive modern art pieces hanging from the walls and glass vases with brightly coloured flowers and a plush leather sofa set overlooking a huge flat screen tv one end and the receptionist's desk on the other. Aamir helped Mayra sit down and asked the receptionist if Gaurav was in yet. On cue, the man himself walked out, decently dressed and Aamir sighed in relief.

He walked up to the couple and said, "Hello Mr and Mrs Hassan. Welcome! I'm Gaurav."

Aamir shook his hand and Mayra stared at him. He was the man in front of whom she was expected to lay out the private details of her married life.

Gaurav, aware of Mayra's scrutiny, guided them both to his office and shut the door. Aamir noticed that this wasn't the room that he had his sessions in. This room was larger, brighter and more vibrant. A large mahogany wood desk sat in the middle and the whole room had flowers and a big mirror was hanging on the wall. Gaurav gestured Mayra into a very comfy looking chair and went around the desk to take his own seat.

"So Mrs Hassan, I've been working with your husband for quite sometime now and I'm glad to say that there has been improvement. A bit slow, but solid improvement. And now he has requested me to have a talk with you. So shall we begin?"

Mayra nodded her head but was gripped in panic when she heard Gaurav ask Aamir to leave. Still she remained quiet.

Aamir left the room in a state of frantic worry. He wanted to stand outside the door in case Mayra needed him. The receptionist asked him to follow her to the further end of the corridor and he reluctantly followed. She opened the door, switched on the light and asked him to enter.

He gasped in surprise.

He was looking at a glass covered window that looked into Gaurav's office, his mirror was actually a two way glass panel that worked from this room only. He could see them both clearly but they couldn't see him. He would be able to see them through the session though he couldn't hear a word.

Mayra was fidgeting nervously and Gaurav - was looking straight at him even though he couldn't see him. Aamir watched Gaurav drop his hand under the desk and suddenly through a speaker on the wall, he could hear their conversation.

"So, Mrs Hassan, are you all right now? You had quite a nasty accident, I heard."

Mayra mumbled something, clearly inaudible to both men, she cleared her throat and said, "fine."

"Wonderful, Mrs Hassan. By the way, may I call you Mayra?" Aamir frowned. He never called Aamir by his given name. Why was he being so friendly with her? Damn, he shouldn't have left the room.

"Okay."

"Great! So Mayra, tell me something about yourself." Gaurav asked happily.

Uncertain, Mayra asked, "what would like to know?"

"Anything you wish to share."

Mayra's fidgeting grew. Aamir felt extremely apprehensive about what was happening. In the last two years, Mayra had been left incapable of initiating a conversation. That was because of his anger. He couldn't believe that Gaurav would push Mayra when she was clearly uncomfortable. Why was he doing this? Didn't he realise that it wasn't Aamir he was talking to? Didn't he realise that Aamir and Mayra had completely opposite issues to deal with?

When Mayra continued to hesitate and not reply, Gaurav asked, "Did you consummate your marriage Mayra?"

Mayra's head shot up in shock and Aamir felt fury rise within him at the blatantly private and unacceptable question. How dare he!

Mayra wanted to end it right then and there. "Please, I can't do this."

Gaurav smiled, "why not?"

"I don't want to answer your questions. They are.. they are.. bad!" Mayra said standing up.

"Why are they bad Mayra?" Gaurav pushed her.

Aamir too stood up to leave when he heard her say, "because its private. I don't want to talk about it."

"Exactly!" Gaurav jumped up, extremely pleased with himself. "You shouldn't share anything with me because its private!"

Mayra looked at him stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Listen Mayra, do you honestly think that me asking you about your sex life is private and me asking about your life in general is not? Do you think I have any right to know about what goes on in your life unless you wish to share? Do you think you should even be here unless you wish to yourself, without your husband having to drag you out here to meet me? Tell me Mayra, am I doing the wrong thing by asking inappropriate questions or are you doing the wrong thing by being here when you don't want to?"

Mayra understood what he was saying.

Gaurav gestured her to retake her seat. "Mayra, the mind is just the human body. It is private. It can not be invaded. Forcing oneself on someone's body is a crime, on the mind it isn't? Think about it. You have to give me permission to glimpse into your mind. Unless I have that, I can not and I will not question you any further. So this is where we begin or end Mayra. Remove Mr Hassan and your family from your mind and answer me. Do you want to do this?"

Feeling the first surge of confidence in her in two years, Mayra lifted her chin and said, "yes."

Gaurav sat down and to Aamir's immense irritation he cut off the sound to his room. He could no longer hear them.

Gaurav was satisfied that he had given Aamir the peek he needed to be reassured of his methods of use with Mayra. Now it was him and just another client whose confidentiality was a matter of utmost professional importance. That he would not sacrifice for anyone.

Aamir saw them talk. He had no idea what they were talking about. He could only make out Mayra's growing comfort with the man and his replies and questions to her comments.

A surge of jealousy ripped through him. It should've been him and with whom Mayra would be this comfortable, not a random stranger.

What he would give to be able to walk into the room, kick Gaurav out and pull Mayra onto his lap. To be the one to share Mayra's privacy of mind.

Frustrated he cursed everything and everyone. He cursed his anger, he cursed his shortsightedness when it came to her. He cursed Jaffar.

Jaffar.

Faiza.

How the hell did she know who Jaffar was? Why was she taking his calls? Was she meeting up with him? Was that bastard trying to plan with Faiza to hurt Mayra just as he had with Sameera?

Aamir pulled out his phone and called his long trusted friend, "Zaheer, I need you to do me a favor. I want one of your men to spy on Faiza Irfan."

******