"Aapko hamari mohabbat par yakeen hai?"
The question lingered in the air. It echoed in Zoya's ears. Trust. Faith.
She nodded, unable to form words. The lump in her throat growing with every passing second.
"Aap, aap hamesha kheti hai, na. Ki insaafi aapse dekhi nahin jaati..." he continued. Asad wiped her tears, as he fought to control his own. Zoya looked at him, curiously, and nodded again, another tear cascading down her cheek.
"Nikhat, Nikhat iss waqt bohot, buri halat mein hai... Aur uska zimeidar mein hoon. Agar meine, Nikhat se theek se baat ki hoti, to yeh, yeh baat ki nobaat hi nahin aati. Miss Farooqui..." Asad gently guided her to settee, and made her sit. He kneeled before her, and help her hands in his, as tightly as he ever had before.
"Zoya..." Zoya looked at him, squeezing his hands tighter, drawing strength from him. "Mein jaanta hoon, ki aapne yeh anjaane mein nahin kiya. Aur, mein aapse, aapse koi explanation bhi nahin mangoonga. Lekin, aapne kaha tha, yaad hai? Ki aap mera saath, kabhi bhi nahin chorengi. Aaj, mein aapse, woh mang raha hoon. Apne liye nahin, balki, meri behen ke liye. Please, Zoya. Mein, mein tumhare baigair jee nahin saktha. Leking mein yeh bhi jaanta hoon. Ki aap, sirf aur sirf, meri hain." Zoya closed her eyes, the pain of leaving him already consuming her. "Aur iss sach ko, koi nahin badal sakhta. Khuda bhi nahin."
Khuda bhi nahin. Khuda bhi nahin. Khuda bhi nahin.
The lump in Zoya's throat grew, as she attempted to choke back her sobs. She looked down at their entwined hands. She knew. She knew how much Asad cared for this sisters. All his sisters. The arrogant, rude and silent OCD obsessed man she took him for was a distant memory. Before her was an emotional, selfless, loving and incredibly understanding human being. Her hero. Her safe haven. Her home.
But, how could she leave... him? Leave this house? Leave, her home? She had made a mistake. A colossal mistake that was brushed under the rug, like unwanted dust. But it had come back to haunt both her, and Ayaan. But... then again, how could she refuse him? Asad had never, ever asked her for anything. Ever. How could she not fulfill his wish? To save not him, but his sister? She was in awe of this man. He called her selfless, but was himself, the most selfless person she had ever met. And that made her love him more. But it also made the idea of leaving him, this home, that much more painful.
Zoya thought long and hard. She looked him in the eye, and saw his pain. His desperation, his helplessness and his guilt. Oh, how she hated to see him feel guilty.
"Aapko hamari mohabbat par yakeen hai?"
The words echoed within her brain. They had survived so much. Tanveer. Her many attempts against her life, her attempt to separate them. Yet Allah brought them together, time and time again. They had beaten all odds, and come so far. Was this another test? Was Allah testing, the strength, of their love, for each other?
Asad watched her intently. He knew it. He knew what he was asking of her was, was, wrong. But he also knew that she trusted him. Blindly. He didn't know, what Allah had in store for him. But he knew. He had the power to change his fate once, and if Allah gave him the strength to do it once, he would give him the strength to do it again.
If Zoya's muqaddar was to go into that house, that house that he so loathed, then he would find a way to change it. He would find a way to make his home, her home, her fate. But right now, he needed to help Nikhat. If this was the test, of love, that Allah wanted them to undergo, then he would do it. Allah had always somehow brought her back into his life. The first time he saw her, was at the Dargah, the house of Allah. If that wasn't a big enough sign, that they were meant to be, he didn't know what they were meant to be.
Zoya freed one of her hands from his grasp, and put it over his. Asad looked down at her gesture, and then up at her, searching her face for a hint of resolve. And that's exactly what he got.
"Mujhe, aap pe, khud se bhi zyaada yakeen hai, Mr. Khan. Agar, aap yehi chaha the hain, toh, toh..." she swallowed hard, finally pushing the lump in her throat down, "toh mein wahi karoongi, jo aap kahenge." Tears formed again in her eyes, as she thought forward to a life without him, to not be able to see him everyday. To not be able to tease him everyday. To not be able to lean on him, when she needed her pillar of strength. It would be hard. But he wasn't going anywhere. He would always be with her. In her heart.
Asad's heart constricted. He now knew when people talked about being sad and happy, at the same time. He was right. She did trust him, as blindly as he believed. But this decision, this trust, would also mean, that she would be leaving them. That she would be leaving his home, and leaving behind a house. He put his other hand above hers, mirroring her gesture, and brought their hands to his lips. He let them linger on there, as his eyes brimmed with tears. A stubborn tear made it's way down his chiseled cheek, and he felt Zoya's delicate fingers, wipe it away.
They both looked at each other, as, they entwined their hands together. Asad and Zoya both looked down, as they prepared to walk the plank. As they prepared to see, what other tests, Allah had in store for them. They walked to the outside of the house, and Asad led her into the passenger of the 4x4, completely ignoring everyone in the hall. Even his Ammi.
The drive was quiet, the 4x4 filled with an air of determination, and simultaneously, pain. Asad stopped the 4x4 in front of the house he knew all too well, but had never set foot in. He took slow, but measured strides to her side of the car, and in slow agony, helped her out of the seat, shutting the door behind her.
They walked up to the entrance, and were grateful to see the doors already open. Asad took a hesitant step forward. He turned to see Zoya, and felt a stab at his heart. She stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the marble floor. Asad gently tugged at their entwined hands, and she looked up at him, with teary eyes. He stared back at her, his own eyes brimming with more tears.
They knew. This was it. Their test of true love, began now.
A/N:
Thoughts? Comments? Chappals? Tomatoes? Shoes? 😉
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