AsYa SS ~ Vaada ~ Updated on PG 116 ~ 04/08 - Page 51

Several phone calls, threats to the authorities, and his own home's staff and security system later, Ayaan had still gotten no where in his quest to find Zoya. He'd looked everywhere. Hotels, hostels, the madarasa his bhaijaan mentioned from last time, and even Ajmer again.

He paced in his room, his annoyance growing with every step. He tried her number once more, despite the multiple times it had gone straight to voicemail. But alas, no luck there. Where could she have gone???

It had only been 24 hours since he had realized she was gone, and he was now cursing himself for not starting his search sooner. He sighed. His bhaijaan had already berated him, but it wasn't his usual anger. It was the voice of a guilt-ridden man, broken and defeated, begging his baby brother to help him. And help him he would. It took him far too long to realize this, but his bhaijaan had always been there for him. He'd been more of a father to Ayaan than his own Abbu.

He felt another pang of guilt stab his heart as it dawned on him, for the umpteenth time in three months, how lucky he was to have a brother like Asad bhaijaan.

Wait, what about Zoya's family, he thought to himself. They don't know about all this. So she wouldn't go to them, but maybe...

His eyes widened, as he realized he'd forgotten to check in the most important place of all. Of course!

**********

"Asad?" a worried Dilshad called out, as she lightly knocked on his room door. Ever since she had found him on the side of his bed, asleep, and a tortured, haunted look on his tear stained face, she hadn't wanted to leave him alone for even a minute. But he had insisted on isolating himself from everyone and everything. It had been 24 hours since he had even eaten anything, or taken a shower. His OCD was gone, as if it was never there.

She was able to convince him to get into the bed, but was disheartened at his complete alienation from anyone else. Asad had not taken calls from work, or Ayaan, or Najma, or even Nikhat. He hadn't talked to a single soul in over 24 hours.

"Asad, kuch to bolo..." begged the worried mother in Dilshad. She sighed, defeatedly, when she once again got no response. She slowly opened his room door, and took a peek at him, her heart breaking all over again at the sight before her.

Laying in his bed, staring blankly at the window, and completely disheveled, was a numb and lifeless Asad Ahmed Khan. His eyes were bloodshot, his stubble uncared for, and she saw this far off look in his eyes. A look of a man who had lost his will to live. Dilshad's eyes brimmed with tears, her heart heavy.

"Ya Allah, mere Asad ki hifazaat karna," she whispered, taking one last look at the ghost of a man, in the place of her son. She closed his door, and slowly made her way back to her own room, where a half folded letter, lay on her bed. She had memorized every word of that letter. Every tear stained, pain-filled word of that letter brought more tears to Dilshad's eyes. She took a seat on her bed, as her fingers opened the last third of the letter, reading it once more:

My dearest, Phoopie,

How can I begin to say how much I love you? You opened up your home to me, when I had none, and treated me as your daughter, when you knew nothing about me. I came to see your house, as my home. The home I always craved for as a child.

Aapi and Jeeju have been wonderful to me, but you filled that void that only a true mother could. You gave me the kind of love Najma and Mr. Khan were lucky enough to grow up with, and the love I have always fantasized about.

A mother's love.

I'm sorry, Phoopie. Please forgive me. But I cannot come back to you. To my Ammi...

Mr. Khan is the indeed, the love of my life, but... It's no longer the same. I am no longer that same Zoya. The purity, the sanctity of a nikaah has now been shattered in my eyes. I dreamed of being Mr. Khan's first, and only wife. I dreamed of him being my first and only husband. But...even beyond that, I cannot be his wife, after being his bhabhi. Even if, that label, was a sham.

And I know, Ammi, that you, of all people, can understand why, I cannot come back, and pretend the last three months did not happen.

I will always remember you, Ammi, and I will miss you. I promise, I will stay in touch, somehow. I cannot lose you, now that I have found you. But I can't tell you where I am going. I'm sorry.

Ek Ammi hi jaanti hai, unki beti par kya guzarti hai, jab woh apna sabse bara vaada torne par, majboor hoti hai. Mein jaanti hoon, aap yeh baat samaj sakhti hai. I will miss you, Ammi.

Love,

Your Zoya

"Mein jaanti hoon, Zoya. Par kya karoon. Ma hoon. Aur ek ma hone ke nathe, mein apne dono bachon ko, aise dukhi nahin dekh sakhti. Nahin dekh sakhti," she sobbed, clutching the letter to her heart, once more, as a new set of tears streamed down her face.

"Ya Khuda, mere dono bachon ne bohot ghum dekhe hain. Please, please help them find happiness," she begged the Almighty.

**********

"So she's there?" asked a hopeful Ayaan. "And they don't know? And when did she get there? Uh huh. Okay. Thank you so much," he ended the call, eternally grateful.

Ayaan opened his closet and took out a duffle bag. He dumped two nights worth of clothes into it and grabbed his toiletries from his bathroom, zipping the bag shut. He grabbed his keys, his jacket and the letter Zoya had left him. He ran out of his room, and took hurried steps towards the front door of the Siddiqui Mansion. As he put his hand on the knob, he felt another hand, on his shoulder.

Humeira.

He turned around, slowly, and drank in the beautiful woman before him. She looked, timeless, even with that look of fear, and concern in her eyes. Her eyes spoke to him, asking him a thousand questions. But one questions stood out among them all.

Will we ever be together, again?

He smiled at her, as he took her hand in his, and brought their hands to his heart.

"Humeira, aapko hum par bharosa hai?" he asked her, moving his hand from hers, to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes. She opened them again, slowly, and looked into his. Humeira nodded gently, her lips curving into a small smile.

Ayaan took her hand in his again, and bushed his lips against the back of her palm, causing her to close her eyes again, relishing in the intimacy of the small gesture. He drew his face closer to hers.

"Soon, I promise," he whispered, Humeira's eyes snapping open at the feel of his warm breath fanning her ear. He drew back, looking at her lovingly. Humeira smiled a little bigger.

"I'll see you soon," he whispered, a little louder, as he opened the front door, taking one last look at her. She waved at him, praying to Allah, that they would indeed be able to put these three months behind them, and finally start their lives together.

**********

The shrill ringing of her cellphone brought her out of her thoughts of Zoya. Dilshad wiped her tears, putting the letter back down on the bed, and reached for her cellphone, on the side table. Seeing the caller ID, she smiled a little.

"Salaam Walikum Ammi," greeted a stoic Najma.

"Walikum Salaam beta. Kaisi ho?" she asked.

"Ammi, aap jaanti hai, mein kaisi hoon. Kya vakai, Zoya chali gayi?" she asked, her voice cracking with the last word.

"Tumhe kaisa pata chala...?" Dilshad's tears resurfaced, as she realized Zoya had been quite thorough with her goodbyes. Was she really never coming back?

"Mujhe, unone chithi bejhi..." Najma trailed off.

Both mother and daughter silently cried over the phone, each for the loss of their Zoya. And for the life of loneliness, that awaited the most important man in their lives.

Asad.

A/N:

There is it! Hope you all liked it! Now since so many people have been waiting, and complaining that I didn't post in SOOO LONG! This update better not require me to put any conditions

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*hides again*

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