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Chapter 28: "Homecoming"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Khan," the flight attendant at the boarding gate began, "but it seems you are not meant to be on this flight." Asad gave her a confused look, and rubbed his temples out of frustration.
"Ma'am, I myself made the bookings, and I am quite sure I booked myself on this flight. Why would I come to this gate, and have this boarding pass," he insisted, shoving the boarding pass in front of her, "if I had booked myself on a different flight?"
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Khan," she insisted apologetically. "But it seems you are booked on the next flight from London, giving you a total lay over of 36 hours..." She trailed off, as she noted the look of utter shock and frustration etched on Asad's face.
"36 hours!? I've already been here for 16 hours. You're telling I have to stay here another day!?" He rubbed his temple again, as his jaw bones ground against each other. Admitting defeat, he grudgingly gave in, and walked over to the ticketing counter the attendant pointed out to him, to get his new boarding pass.
He still didn't understand. He had made the bookings himself. How the hell did his flight get switched? He groaned audibly, took the new boarding pass from the attendant, and went to the taxi stand.
Thank god for his United Kingdom visa, or he would have been stuck in that god awful airport hotel for the next 20 hours. The cab ride to the hotel was long, and gave him time to think, which he was not happy about. His mind revolved around one thing. One person. One face. One voice. Zoya.
He watched outside the window as the rainy streets of London zipped past him, his lips tugging up into a small secretive smile every time he saw something that reminded him of Zoya. A pizza place, a T station, a dessert place. All things that reminded him of his short, but memorable time with her in her beloved New York. It was odd how he missed it, despite being there for merely a week.
The sudden jolt of the taxi stopping in front of the hotel brought him out of his revere, as he took out some pounds from his passport pouch and paid the driver. Taking his bag out of the trunk with the driver's help, he walked into the hotel lobby. Booking a room and checking in, he went upstairs and threw himself onto the bed.
Sleep evaded him, as he knew it would, and he yearned for a particular angry little person to barge into his room, and blabber incoherently at him. He sighed, sitting up on the bed, and took out his laptop, opening it. He stared at the photo of him and Zoya on Holi again, and smiled ruefully.
He wondered if he'd ever get to see her smile like that again. If he'd ever get to hear her angelic voice. If he'd ever get to bicker endlessly with her. If he'd ever get to bump into her and get intoxicated with her scent as he wrapped his arms around her petite little frame. His eyes moistened, as he admitted something he never thought he'd admit to himself.
"I miss you, Zoya..." he whispered hoarsely into the empty room, before dozing into a restless slumber, a raven haired princess haunting his dreams.
**********
Twenty hours later, a long, tiresome eight hour flight and several disgruntled passengers wreaking havoc on the plane later, a battered and defeated Asad Ahmed Khan arrived into Delhi airport. No turning back now, he thought to himself. He's landed on Indian soil, and there was no way Zoya could do the same. The thought hit him like a ton of bricks, and the realization that he may never see her again, scared him.
Taking a deep breathe, he continued on. Boarding his flight to Bhopal, Asad watched Delhi disappear through the plane window, and his beloved home town magnify itself a mere hour later.
Grabbing his bags off the carousel, he made his way to the arrivals area, and watched with a rueful smile, as the other passengers were greeted by family, and friends, and most of all, by their significant others.
Who knew, that the man who vowed to never let a woman rule his heart, was now yearning for the simplest of pleasures that a woman could provide.
Someone to come home to.
**********
The driver pulled up to the Khan Villa's driveway, and Asad felt another stab at his heart. Once again, his house was a house. No longer a home. His steps were heavy, his body unwilling to go into that cold, empty and dark house, devoid of any life.
Taking the keys out of his pant pocket, he turned the lock on the front door, only to find that it was already open. Strange, he thought. He was sure he had told Tanveer to keep that door locked at all times, especially since he was not there. Shrugging it off as a small oversight on her part, he entered the massive living area, his head down, his eyes glued to the marble floors.
"Arre Asad tum agaye!" came a serene and familiar voice. Asad's head snapped up. Ammi!? "Itna lamba safar karke aye ho. Kuch khaoge?"
"Am- Ammi, aa- aap, yahan..?" he trailed off, a little dazed.
"Kya hua, Asad?" Dilshad asked, her lips curving into an amused smile.
Composing himself, he opened his mouth to interrogate his mother, when another familiar voice made his mouth go dry.
"Bhaijaan! Aap agaye! Safar kaisa raha?" came Najma's sweet voice from bottom of the stairs.
"N-Najma, tum, tum bhi?" he tried, his words failing to form a coherent statement.
Hadn't he left them in New York? Yeh dono yahan kaise aagaye!?
"Kya hua, Bhaijaan? Aapko hamara surprise acha nahin laga?" Najma asked, biting back a smile. Asad looked back and forth between the two women, and rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
"Uh, woh actually, nahin, mera matlab hai, haan, lekin, tum dono, mera matlab, Ammi aap, aur Tamatar tum," he tried, his inability to form a coherent string of words haunted him again. Even more frustrated with himself, he failed to hear another voice in background, happily taunting him.
"Allah miya! Whats wrong with you, Mr. Khan? Mujhe laga aapki yeh purani aadat ab tak to gayab hoti!" Asad's ears rang. That voice, that phrase, that name... Zoya...
Removing his hand from his face, he slowly looked up, in the direction of the guest room, Zoya's room. He staggered, and stumbled backwards, as he saw what he thought was a mirage.
"Z-Zoya..." he whispered, looking at her with such intensity in his eyes, that Zoya felt herself go red. Dilshad and Najma smiled at each other and watched, as the two love birds stared unabashedly at each other.
He walked slowly towards her, and gently placed his palm on her cheek, wiping away a tear that streamed down her milky skin. He barely touched her, afraid that if he did, she would disappear.
"Aap, yahan, aapka visa," he began, only to be cut off by her, as Zoya gently placed her palm on his lips. Asad's eyes widened, realization finally dawning on him, that this was in no way a dream. She was here. In India. In his house. No. In his home, her home. In front of him.
Without thinking twice, he pulled her in for a bone crushing hug and smiled through his blurry eyes, as he felt her frail arms wrap themselves around his toned torso.
"Kya, Mr Khan," Zoya's watery voice teased him, "aap toh macho man hain, aap hi kyun roh rahe hain," she asked rhetorically. He chuckled despite himself, and pulled back slightly, only to cup her face in his hands, dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, not caring for a second that his mother and sister were watching them.
**********
After a long minute of silence and awe, Asad pulled away and turned away from her, crossing his arms. Zoya placed her hand on his shoulder, confused by his behavior, but Asad simply shrugged it off.
"Mr. Khan? Ab meine kya kar diya," she asked teasingly. He smiled despite his anger, but wouldn't turn to face her.
"Aap wapas kaise aayi. Aapka visa to khatam ho chuka tha. Aur aapi hi ne kaha tha, aapka visa renew nahin no sakta hai. Toh phir..?" he trailed off, expecting an immediate answer. "Aur aap mujhse pehle kaise ponchi? Agar aap mera peecha kar rahi thi, toh logically you should have arrived after me," he wondered aloud.
Zoya, who was about to answer him seriously, burst out into a fit of giggles. And soon after, Dilshad and Najma joined in, leaving a baffled and irritated Asad to glare at them all. Mother and daughter made an effort to stifle their laughter, but Zoya did nothing of the sort. She openly laughed at him, and soon Asad found that he didn't really mind it. Her laughter, was one sound he thought he'd never hear again.
But how did they get here before him?
"Arre Mr. Khan," began Zoya, trying her best to control her laughter, "aap ek baat bhool rahe hain." Winking at him, Zoya put her hands on either side of her hips and smiled proudly. "Zoya Farooqui kuch bhi kar sakti hai."
Asad rubbed his temple, hiding his small, secret smile. But before letting Zoya see it, he straightened himself out and gave her a very serious look.
"Zoya," he said sternly, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. Zoya bit her lip, giggling like a five year old, and turned to glance at Najma and Dilshad, then back at Asad.
"Mr. Khan, ek baat bataiye," she began, resting her arm on Asad's shoulder, who smiled at her gesture. "Aapki kisi bi flight delay ho gayi kya? Yahan phir aap airports mein guum ho gaye?" she asked, teasing him out right. Asad rubbed his temple, as he prepared to scold her for making fun of him, but a thought stopped him.
How did she know I had a flight problem?
Before Asad moved a muscle, Dilshad and Najma scurried to their rooms, leaving Zoya to incur Asad's wrath. She could handle it. After all, she was the only one who could handle their lion.
Asad gripped Zoya gently by her upper arms, looking her straight in the eyes, his gaze occasionally falling to her plump pink lips. Focus, Asad, he told himself.
"Miss Farooqui," he began, very seriously, noticing the mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Aapko kaise pata hai ki mere flight mein kuch garbar thi?" She smiled bigger, biting her lower lip. Asad looked down at her mouth, his thoughts trailing into unchartered territory. For once, he was openly allowing himself to wonder, what her pink lips would taste like. But he had to focus. Tightening his grip on her arms a little, he pulled her a tad closer, their noses now a hair apart.
"Aapko kya laga, Mr. Khan?" she said, looking him deep in the eyes, all traces of humor gone. "Aap mujhe itni badi nishani chorenge, bharosa ka, aur mein chup chap, aapko Indian wapas jaane deti? Woh bhi akele?" she asked, her eyes brimming with tears once again.
Blinking, Asad pulled a her a little closer, their foreheads now touching.
"Lekin, aapka visa," he asked again, stubbornly, his own voice thick, the lump in his throat back. She chuckled, her nose sniffling, and cupped his face with her small hands, feeling his jaw clench and unclench in her hold.
"Mr. Bhatawdekar ne mujhe deport nahin kiya tha, Mr. Khan." Asad's eyes snapped up. She nodded, smiling, a tear streaming down her pink cheek. "Unno ne mujhe wapas aane ka mokka diya. Lekin mujhe pata nahin tha, agar mujhe wapas aana chaiye yahan nahin," she admitted finally, the veil of her secret finally lifting itself before Asad's eyes.
Asad looked down, his guilt resurfacing, but Zoya forced his head up, to look at her. "Lekin ab," she explained, "ab mujhe pata hai, Mr. Khan. Yehi meri jaga hai, aur yehi mera ghar hai." She paused, as she noticed a ghost of a smile on his lips, and his eyes darkening. "Hai na, Mr. Khan?" she asked, almost as if begging him to accept her again.
Asad dropped another soft kiss on her forehead, taking her hands in his own. He kissed her hands, dropping a tender kiss on her every knuckle, and looked up again, drowning in her big brown eyes.
"Ek bar. Bas, ek baar keh dije," he begged her. And Zoya immediately knew what he meant. Smiling through her now freely flowing tears, she looked down at their hands, and took a deep breathe. Peering up at him through her lashes, her cheeks burning a blissful crimson, she bit her lip, the words refusing to come out.
"Mein bhi, Mr. Khan. Mein bhi aapse mohabbat karti hoon," she said finally, her voice quiet, but even. She looked down, not meeting his eyes. "I love you, too, Asad."
"Phir se boliye," he begged, his voice demanding. She looked up at him in surprise, and looked down again, shy.
"I-" she began, only to be cut off by him shaking his head at her, as he tugged at her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"Uske baad," he whispered, his gaze dropping to her lips. Zoya looked down at his lips as well, and before she knew it she was whispering his name.
"Asad..." she said, drawing herself closer to him, their noses touching once again. No longer the tameez and tezheeb ruled man he once was, he gently bent down and placed a soft, tender kiss on Zoya's plump lips. Zoya sighed, the feel of their lips meeting, and his scent driving her up a wall. She responded, just as gently. And slowly, their kiss deepened, their arms wrapping themselves around each other.
Asad cradled her head, as he deepened the kiss further, and smoothly slipped his tongue between her lips. Sighing some more, Zoya smiled into his lips, and responded with equal passion. Soon they were both lost in each other. So lost, in fact, that they didn't hear the throat clearing right behind them.
"Bhaijaan!" came a familiar male voice. Asad and Zoya sprung apart like the other was on fire and tugged at their clothes nervously.
"Ayaan, tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" Asad asked, rubbing his temple in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Zoya giggled, seeing Asad embarrassed. Oh how she loved t when he was irritated by something.
"Kyun bhaijaan? Aap Mona Darling ke saath itne busy hain ki aap apne bhai ko bhul gaye?" he teased, feigning sadness. Asad shook his head at his goofy brother, and took him in for a hug. He didn't realize how much he'd missed him. No matter how little amount of time went by, every time they met, it seemed as if they were meeting after years. But in a good way. They never grew apart. They never let their families come between them.
Letting go of each other, Ayaan winked at Zoya, who winked back, cleared his throat, as Asad tried to grasp what was going on between these two. Anything involving them was never good. He'd learned that the hard way.
"Ayaan, yeh sab kya ho raha hai?" Asad almost growled causing the two of them to jump. Taking a deep breathe, Zoya placed her hand on Asad's shoulder and turned him to face her, motioning Ayaan to get and get something.
"Mr. Khan, aapne jo mere liye kiya," she paused, the lump in her throat forming again and looked dow at his collar, fidgeting with it. Asad slipped one hand around her waist, and tugged at her cheek with the other, forcing her to look into his eyes. She smiled.
"Aapne mujhe ehsaas dilaya ki aap mujh par bharosa kar te hain." He smiled at that. "Kya aap mujh ek baar aur, yakeen kar sakte hain?" she begged him quietly. His heart constricted. She did see that he trusted her now, but her hesitation was justified. Many a time had he shot her down, scorned her and ever shut her out when he felt she was lying or being irresponsible. But no more.
"Zoya," he began, mentally reveling how easily he could call her by her name now. "Aap mujhse jo bhi kahen, mein usse aankhein band karke maan loonga. Yeh mera aapse vaada hai." He looked at her intently, and noticed her eyes well up.
"Mr. Khan, mein aapko, dukh nahin pn chana chati hoon, lekin," she began, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Zoya," he wiped an errant tear streaming down her cheek, placing his other hand on her cheek, cupping her face. "Zoya whats wrong?" he asked, worried about what was upsetting her this much. They were together now. What else was left to solve? Zoya smiled sadly at him, and put her hands over his, looking down again.
"Bhaijaan," came Ayaan's voice from behind them. Asad looked up and saw a curious sight. Tanveer was trailing behind Ayaan, his hand in a death grip on her upper arm.
"Ayaan, tum Tanveer ko iss tara kyun leke aaye ho," Asad asked, rubbing his temples in frustration. Zoya and Ayaan exchanged glances, but this didn't go unnoticed by Asad. "Miss Farooqui? Ayaan? Yeh sab kya hai? Tanveer?" he asked them all, finally settling on looking at Tanveer questioningly.
"Jammy dekhie na. Yeh dono mera kya haal bana rahe hain. Allah ka shukar hai aap ghar aagaye." Tanveer reached out for Asad but Ayaan restrained her.
"Ayaan, tum Tanveer ko iss tara kyun pakar rahe ho. Choro usse," he said as he tried to walk towards Tanveer, but Zoya stopped him, her eyes still begging. He looked at her, then at Tanveer, then at Ayaan, and back at Zoya.
What the hell was going on?
"Mr. Khan," Zoya whispered, pulling him back so she was standing in front of him again. He looked at her intently, deciphering what her big brown eyes were trying to make him realize.
"Jammy, inki baat mat maana. Zoya mujhe phasa ne ki koshish kar rahi hai!" Tanveer screeched, as she attempted to turn the tables back in her favor.
"Phasa ne ki koshish? Lekin kis baat ke liye? Aur Zoya ne aisa kya kiya, jo woh tum par inzaam lagaye gi?" he asked, looking at Tanveer with utter confusion. Zoya had nothing to hide. Did she? He looked back at Zoya again.
"Miss Farooqui? Yeh sab kya hai. Aap please saaf saaf mujhe bataiye. Kya ho raha hai yahan?" Asad practically growled, now reaching a point of frustration. His brother was manhandling his best friend, and the woman he loved was trying to stop him from freeing her. And now his best friend was accusing Zoya? What part of the puzzle did he lose?
"Mr. Khan, aapko yaad hai, mein, aap..." she began, remembering how she had chosen to leave her home. He cupped her face again, urging her to continue. Swallowing Zoya soldiered on. She needed to get this out in the open.
"Jab aapne, Ayaan ke sagaai mein, woh sab dekha tha," she began again, looking down. "Humeira behosh hui thi, aur woh bhi uss meethai ke wajese, jo mein uss din wahan lekar gayi thi.." Zoya trailed off, looking back up at him.
He blinked. He already knew that. Why was she reminding him of his mistake in making yet another error of judgement towards her?
"Aapko ajeeb nahin laga Mr. Khan? Ki sirf uss meethai mein zeher thi, jo mein, matlab, aapke ghar se aayi thi?" she asked, hoping he'd understand she didn't want to open up old wounds. He nodded, still confused.
"Lekin aap aisa kabhi nahin kar sakhti," he insisted, cupping her face a little tighter, "toh phir...?" The question lingered in the air, as Zoya turned her gaze and set it on Tanveer. Tanveer shifted uncomfortably. Surely her Jammy wouldn't believe it. Surely he would believe her over this nuisance Zoya. Right?
Looking back up at Asad, Zoya held his hands in hers, her eyes brimming with more tears. This was it. The moment where his trust would be put to the test. Not so much in trusting her, but in realizing that the person he had trusted most, was a fraud.
"Mr. Khan, woh zeher, woh, Tanveer ne milaya tha," she let out finally, her voice a low whisper, as she registered Asad's astonishment. His eyes widened considerably, and he looked back up at Tanveer.
Poison? Her? His best friend? But why..? Letting of Zoya, he took a few steps in Tanveer's direction.
"Tanveer? Kya yeh sach hai?" he asked, without hesitating for a second about Zoya's intentions. Tanveer gulped, sweat beads forming on her forehead.
"N-nahin Jammy! Y-yeh jhoot hai! Mein bhala aisa kyun karoongi?" she tried, stumbling over her words, praying she he'd still take her word at face value.
"Bhaijaan, mein maanta hoon, ki kai saalon se, yeh aapki bohot achi friend thi," Ayaan chimed in. "Lekin Bhaijaan, hamare paas sabooth hai. Aur, Tanveer ne hi yeh kaam kiya hai. Aur to aur," he explained, stopping midway, balling his free hand into a fist to contain his building anger.
Asad put one hand on his shoulder. "Bolo Ayaan, saaf saaf batao, puri baat kya hai," Asad insisted, determined to get every bit of information before reacting at all. Zoya smiled inwardly. He truly had changed. It wasn't just an act back in New York. The man who used to assume, and react first, then ask questions, was actually listening, before drawing a conclusion.
But immediately after, her smile disappeared, as Ayaan and her shared another knowing glance, recalling exactly how they had proven, that it was in fact Tanveer, who had poisoned the meethai.
Flashback
"Mona! Aap agayi!" Ayaan exclaimed happily, as he greeted the three ladies at the airport. "Allaj ka shukar hai! Mujhe laga Mission Billi mujhe akele hi kar na padega!" he teased, pretending he'd be horrified at the idea.
Zoya, Dilshad and Najma all laughed at his antics. Zoya had filled them both in on hers and Ayaan's findings. The whole plane ride, Dilshad had half cried and half all but cursed Tanveer. To think that she had trusted her as a daughter, and she hurt their precious Zoya.
Najma was very quiet. She'd been processing the news in her own way, and towards the end of the flight, she finally gave Zoya a tight hug, showing her she was with her. Zoya had returned it with equal force, and her eyes brimming with unshed tears, as she thanked Allah, and Mr. Khan, for allowing her to meet such a beautiful group of people she could call family.
"Rabaart! Tum mere bina kuch nahin kar sakte!" she teased, glad to be closer to home. He huffed at her and crossed his arms.
"Acha? Toh phir kissi aur ko dundlo Mona! Apne plan ke liye!" he mussed, gauging her for a reaction. Zoya smirked, aware he was trying to bait her.
"Theek hai. Waise, Najma bhi yeh kaam kar sakti hai," Zoya insisted, winking at Najma, who just laughed louder along with Dilshad. Ayaan's eyes widened and he huffed with indignation.
"Ha! Najma thodi jaanti hai jo mein jaanta hoon!" he countered, finally revealing his ace. Zoya smiled.
"Rabaart, bohot ho gaya. Ab plan ko start karo! Badi mushkil se meine Mr. Khan ki flight change kar di," she smiled triumphantly to herself. Dilshad and Najma shared a knowing look. "We have to make the most of the time we have!" she exclaimed, ushering them all out of the airport, and into a cab to get home.
**********
"Salaam Wa..." came Tanveer's greeting. But she trailed off as soon as she saw Zoya at the door. Yeh kambakhat yahan!? Yeh kaise ho sakta hai!? she thought to herself, as she felt her face drain of all color.
"Salaam Walikum, Tanveer," greeted Dilshad, icily. Tanveer blinked at her tone, and stepped aside, allowing them all to come in. How the hell was Zoya back in India? Hadn't she deported herself!?
"Uh, um, Zoya? Aap wapas agayi? she asked hesitantly. Zoya smiled sweetly at her and stood right in front of Tanveer.
"Haan, Tanveer. Mr. Khan mujhe wapas lenne hi aaye the. To phir tum itni heraan kyun lag rahe ho?" Zoya asked, as calmly as she could manage. Tanveer blinked at that too. She looked around and noticed that Asad was not with them. But wasn't he coming back?
"Kya hua Tanveer? You seem confused," Dilshad asked coldly. "Tumhe khushi nahi hui? Zoya ko wapas yahan dekhar?" Tanveer gulped. Something was terribly off.
"Uh, nahin, Khala, mujhe kya etraaz hoga," she laughed nervously.
"Acha?" came a male voice from the front door. Tanveer froze.
"Tumhe koi bhi etraaz nahin?" Ayaan asked pointedly, walking closer to the ladies, as he finally stood in front of Tanveer, arms crossed over his chest, challengingly. Tanveer gulped again.
"N-nahin," she stuttered, unsure of what to do next. Ayaan smirked in her direction and pulled out a tape recorder. Tanveer's eyes grew wide. Surely he didn't...did he!?
"Kya hua, Tanveer? Tum kuch ghabrai hui lag rahi ho?" Najma asked, finally joining in. Zoya took the tape recorder from Ayaan and smiled at him, thanking him. He nodded, and stepped aside, as Zoya confronted Tanveer.
"Tum kya bol rahi thi Tanveer?" Zoya asked rhetorically. "Ke mein wapas agayi hai na? Lekin tumhe laga tha ki mein hamesha le liye USA chali gayi thi. Hai na?" Zoya asked a nervous Tanveer, as her eyes darted from face to face in the suddenly very small room. Is it hot in here?
"Woh issi liye, ke agar tum kuch nahin bol thi, toh Mr. Dhurander Bhatawdekar," Zoya explained, as if Tanveer were a child. Finally get his name right, and he's not even here to hear it, Zoya sighed, getting side tracked. "Tumhi ne unne bataya tha, ki mera visa expire ho raha hai, jab meine Indian mein reine ka faisla liya tha. Hai na?" Tanveer's eyes popped, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
"N-nahin, y-yeh tum kya keh rahi ho Zoya! Mein aisa kyun karoongi?" she spat, unable to fathom how Zoya knew all this. "Aur, tumhe aisa kyun lagta hai, Zoya? Ki mein chati hoon ki aap chali jaye?" she asked as sweetly as she could manage, without showing the panic in her voice.
"Bohot ho gaya, Tanveer," Zoya snapped, startling her. "Tumhari chori pakri gayi. Aur tumne khudi apne aapko phasaya hai. Dekho," Zoya informed her, pressing play on the tape recorder she took from Ayaan.
"Jee haan, ek auraat ne mujhe phone kar ke bataya, ke Miss Zoya ka visa expire hone wala tha. Lekin unke jaane se pehle meine unne wapas aane ka moka diya. Mujhe laga nahin, ki Miss Zoya woh type ke insaan hai. Lekin yeh ladki jo bhi thi, lagta hai, woh Miss Zoya ko iss desh se bahar dekhna chati thi," came Mr. Bhatawdekar's voice from the speaker on the tape recorder, and Tanveer felt herself go pale all over again.
"Arre, ab se safed chera kyun hai tumhara?" Zoya asked, smirking. "Abhi bhi bohot kuch hai sunne ke liye." Tanveer tried to make run for it, but Ayaan caught her just in time.
"Arre itni jaldi kya hai, Tanveer? Pura toh sun lo," Ayaan taunted her, and Dilshad and Najma shared a small amused smile.
Zoya pressed play again, and this time, Tanveer felt she'd collapse from shock and fear.
"...kitne koshish ki thi meine, tumhe yahan se dapha karwane ki. Lekin nahin, tum to hili bhi nahin. Aur ab jab meine uss immigration officer ko bi bataya tha ki tum illegally rehna chati ho, aur tum finally yahan se chali gayi thi, tab Asad Ahmed Khan tumhe wapas laane par thula gaya..."
Flashback ends
"Tanveer..." Asad whispered, hearing the recording himself. Tanveer froze, no more words of defense coming out from her mouth, as she braced herself for the lion's wrath. But Asad didn't so much as move. He just stared at her, a myriad of emotions clouding his deep chocolate orbs. Hurt, anger, disbelief, and last of all, guilt.
This, this was the woman he'd trusted, over the woman he loved?
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Arjun
Cricket
124