❖ ════ ❃•❃ ════ ❖

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓘𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓜𝔂 𝓞𝓷𝓮

Time. Zubab gave him the time he wanted. She really needed to be with him this time but she knew he needed some time to settle himself with whatever was happening. She didn't go to their room. Instead she went to a vacant guest room on the floor and tried sleeping there.

As she tossed in her bed, all her mind was occupied with him. What would he be doing? Had he slept? Asfandyaar lost his mother, the one who looked after him, he had no one besides him except her.

She stood up and walked out. She was growing restless every minute staying away from him. He meant everything to her. She stood in front of the door for a good five minutes. She finally opened the door and walked in. A lamp beside their bed was switched on except the darkness that dipped in the room.

He was there, sitting beside the table. His head on his knees. Maybe crying or maybe sleeping. She sat beside him and put her head on his shoulder. He sat up and held her hand slowly. She noticed how he was not crying anymore nor was he saying anything.

He was playing with her fingers. Holding them ever on so tight as if that's the last thing he ever wanted to hold. She knew it all. The comfort while he just held her hand. It was evident. He didn't want her to go anywhere else nor did he want her to feel pressured by his existence in her life.

He was aware she would come. She was aware he needed her. That's love.

"You will not leave or betray me, right?"

He sounded like a kid. A scared kid afraid to go to school because of the strict teachers or selfish friends. He folded his legs, turning a little towards her still holding her hand.

"You are all I have, Zubab."

She held both of his hands tighter. Her eyes on him entirely as he was the only person in the world who mattered to her more than anyone at the moment. "I won't. I am here. Always with you."

He gave her a smile before she wrapped his arms around him. "I am with you," she says again, stroking the back of his head. He held her lightly. He pulled apart and kissed the top of her head where he always does, where the scar was imprinted. "I can't believe I fired you because of her. It hurts so much."

He always made sure he made her feel comfortable, loved and cared for. He was the gentleman she wanted. He pulled apart and slept in her lap. She strokes his soft, fluffy hair while he looks at her.

"Mom used to play a lot of games with me when she was alive. She was a UNO champion. She knew she would win but everytime she realised that I was losing, she would make sure I was winning. She just wanted to see me happy."

She listens to him.

"At first, I was tired of winning and thought I was a champion who could never lose. My royal standards were strikingly high. Then when I started practicing with my friends and others, I knocked back to reality. I was losing each time and asked Mom to play honestly. She did. And then everytime I lost."

There was moistness forming in the corner of her eyes. His loneliness was the deepest for her.

"Losing each match against her slowly I never realised how I lost her completely."

"She was the happiest because of you, Asfand. You made her happy. You were the only one reason that kept her lively." Zubab said. "You look like Mom sent you from heaven."

She smiles. There's a comfortable bond between them. It's invisible, spontaneous and charming. "She was beautiful like you."

"She is beautiful and will always be. She is with you, Asfand. She has always been with you."

He smiles wholeheartedly. "I wish things weren't as ugly as it was to her. I wish she was alive with me. None of this would have ever happened. I wish Dad loved her the way she wanted him to. I wish she was alive."

"She is," She keeps his hand on the left side of his chest. "She is alive here. Your heart was made inside her. You were made inside her. A huge part of her is always alive in you."

He got tears in his eyes. She was right. She was always right. She made him feel home and loved.

"Cry all you want. It's alright to cry. Men can cry and they should. Men like you are diamonds with their reflection hidden in brightness. But they reflect hard in the darkness like there is no one else. You are one of those diamonds."

He sat up and hugged her right away. Crying in her arms. It was hurting him, depressing him, pain was rising in his heart but there was one thing he felt in her arms.

Home.

He felt home in the huge mansion for the first time. It was her arms. It was her. His wife, his love, his soul. Zubab Asfandyaar Shah.

•

Few Days Later

"... Women protection campaign was initially started regarding the protection of women by the eldest son of the royal Shah family, Asfandyaar Shah. This campaign also focuses on divorced women, victims of domestic violence, child abuse, family pressure and depression, anxiety which follows their lives. Therapists are appointed and medical help is given to all at no cost. These campaigns are starting to get national spotlight and many more holdings have been made in the country. The cost for all the expenses regarding the therapy and huge empty hostels are purchased by Asfandyaar Shah's personal properties. These hostels are used for giving a shield to the women and are protected by fifty guards for the least in one building. There are initial purchases starting to pour around the country. General public are appreciating this kind gesture and action from the royal family..."

The voice of a female anchor blasted across the room. Zubab was happy. Asfandyaar was doing everything besides just maintaining the business. He realised that he needed to do more to protect within his power. His mother and wife were hurt by the world. He needed to try to stop at least a little bit of it.

"I am proud of you," Azeem says, stroking his shoulder. A gesture of appreciation towards his son's action. Asfandyaar looked at him. They were sitting on the couch in the living room. Zubab beside him. Moosa and Maham are opposite to them.

"I have decided something, Dad."

The smile stopped out of Azeem's face. He particularly knew what Asfandyaar meant when he began. He was scared but he had prepared for this. "I want to move out."

Maham and Moosa stare at him. Zubab knew it. He discussed it a lot of times with her before speaking up because this was entirely hurting him. "It hurts to live here, Dad. So many heart breaks, so much of greed embedded here in this huge land that it suffocates me to live here."

Azeem couldn't help but stare at his son. He wanted to go away from him. Live apart. At this moment, he realised there was so much he could have given to his son, so much he had snatched from him. He was a kid who saw the marriage of their parents breaking apart. He was a kid when he saw his mother crying over his father, helplessly. He was just a kid.

"You are a royal heir. You can't live outside. It's dangerous. What happened all of a sudden, Asfand-"

"It's not all of a sudden, Dad. I am thirty. I have been seeing this for thirty years, Dad. As I grow up here, all I can see is the places my mother used to hide to cry just because of you. All I can see is people betraying others just for their sake and this royalty is making me hate my own blood. What's royalty, Dad? A matter of words. Everybody has the same blood and flesh from their ancestors. It's nothing new. I don't wanna be selfish enough to thrive as a royal. I wanna make myself royale instead of this bloodline. If this royalty justifies cruelty for the others then I don't want to be a royal heir, Dad."

Azeem didn't have any words. He was unjustifying. Cheating in any sense is wrong even if you loved someone before your marriage, it doesn't give the authority to do things behind. Marriage is a commitment that begins with truth, honesty and loyalty.

"I have seen you going out with your lover while Mom cried on the top floor in the last room of the corridor. Though she thought she was away from me, she still cried slowly. She wanted to scream, Dad. It hurt her so much to see her husband go out to someone whom she considered as a friend. In spite of the heaviest pain you put her through, she wanted to make sure I knew nothing about your affair, she never poured an ounce of hate in me for you."

For the first time, Azeem shed a tear. "I can't live in a place where my mother was suffocated to death and my wife nearly died at the hand of a monster whose mother looked after me and you didn't care at all for twenty years."

Maham was slowly realising the sense of hatred she felt within herself. Guilt and regret pushing her deep in the well of darkness. But nothing can be changed now. Never could.

"I am moving out tonight, Dad."

"I can't justify anything. I don't have the right to stop you. I have lost it all. You are right, Asfandyaar. Royalty is just a matter of words and I don't even have a voice that supports and tongue that rolls enough to seek apology from you and your mother."

They sat in silence. Maham was shedding tears. Moosa glanced at her, he knew her regret wouldn't change anything. He had tried earlier for a trillion times to make her realise that she was wrong.

"But if you ever find yourself capable of forgiving me, I'd be forever thankful."

"I tried. All these days I tried to forgive you but I couldn't. It's getting harder." There was a pause. A pause that was killing each of them in the room.

"Don't worry, Dad. I won't leave my throne. I will still be the CEO of Shah Industries. Mom always dreamt of seeing me in that position. It was her only dream that she weaved with her broken heart for her son. I can never leave that."

Azeem smiled through his tears. Keeping his hand on Asfandyaar's shoulder, he said,

"You are a good son, Asfandyaar. I hope you live the best life with Zubab."

•

A beautiful villa with a compact garden. Huge trees and plants accompany the entrance. No pollution of air as the villa was inside the end of the street. The villa was breathtakingly designed in the colour of white and brown, specks of gold and copper here and there. It was the prettiest. It had been two days ever since they moved out.

"I wish I was fat. I could have lost twenty kgs by now," Moosa breathed out, keeping the twentieth box inside the hall. "There are still boxes left, Moosa." Asfandyaar says behind him as he separates the box to the different categories of furniture, books, kitchen utensils and much more.

"I don't even know why I am doing this." He says walking out of the living room towards the helpers who were taking the boxes out of the truck.

Zubab is in the kitchen, arranging things. Asfandyaar entered the kitchen with a huge box in his hand. He kept it on the kitchen counter beside her chair. "What's this box?" She peeked to read the note. 'Freezed eatables.'

"When is the refrigerator arriving?" She asks him as he stands in front of her, as she arranges the utensils. "Within half an hour."

A stroke of hair fell down from behind her ear. Before she could put it back with her fingers, he did. She looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back.

He was the best thing ever happened to her and she was the best thing ever happened to him.

"Can you stop being so pretty?"

"Why?" She asks. A smirk accompanied her face. "Because it pleases my eyes so much that when I don't see you it hurts."

She laughs. "So make sure you keep your eyes only on me, Asfand. I cannot tolerate when you look at someone else either."

"I will never."

•

They got settled within a week. Everything of their choice. Beautiful and dreamy, hazy and fresh. It was perfect.

"No, I am not coming today. Transfer the regular check up patients to Dr. Ashima," Zubab says while she cuts the apple in half. Her phone is on the speaker.

"Okay, doctor. You have been sick for the past three days, doctor. You should get yourself checked."

"I will once I feel like coming out of bed."

"Take care of yourself, Doctor."

"You too, Sasha." She cuts the phone and eats the apple. As soon as she eats two slices, she feels nauseous. She runs up to the washroom. Asfandyaar enters the room. He had been worrying about her. He did not leave her for a second now that she is so sick. He sighed, noticing that she was vomiting again for the nth time from the morning.

She comes out of the washroom and sits down in the bed breathing in and out.

"I will call a doctor."

"No, Asfand. It's just because of the fever. I am fine."

"You are not. Jaan."

"I'll be."

•

What's up with Zubab?

How's the flow of the story going?

Target Votes - 150

Target comments - 25