"Utho Zoya! Zoya! Zoya, get up! Come on, Zoya! Utho! Please... please Zoya utho... please..."
A broken Asad Ahmed Khan's pleas continued as he willed the frail body in his arms back to life. She couldn't leave him. She just couldn't. He didn't know why. He didn't know when. But he knew, he needed her. She just couldn't...
Yash gently placed his hand on Asad's right shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. He looked down at the woman he briefly knew as Zoya, and closed his eyes, praying to god, to let her live. But it had been a few minutes, and it seems as though she would not show any signs of life. He opened his eyes, and looked at Asad, this time. His eyes were masked in disbelief, pain, and lastly, denial. Denial, that Zoya was in fact...
He found he couldn't even complete the thought. He looked towards Aarti, saddened further, at seeing her tears. Aarti put her hand on Asad's other shoulder, squeezing it, just as Yash had done a moment ago. She looked at the battered man before her and felt fear grip her heart as the reality of the situation dawned on her as well.
Zoya was not breathing. She had no pulse. And her skin was as pale as a white sheet.
Asad felt one hand on his shoulder, and then another on the other. He knew who's hands they were, but paid no heed. All that mattered was that Zoya would live. She would breathe. He would will her to breathe. To open her eyes, to shout at him, reprimand him, to rile him up. How he wished he had listened to her.
"Utho Zoya! GET UP DAMN IT! Come on! Get up Zoya!" Asad continued his pleas, as he took one of her hands in his and started rubbing it. But as soon as he released the pressure on it, her arm fell limply to her side. Asad's tears spilled, as he saw her lifeless form in his arms.
Slowly, he was beginning to realize why there were sympathetic hands on his shoulders. He looked at Yash, helpless, pleading, but received nothing more than sympathy, and sadness. He looked back at Zoya for a second, and then turned to Aarti. Her tears, her look of sadness, was enough cause his heart to crack, right down the middle.
They knew. They knew that she... Unable to finish the thought even, he gripped Zoya's body tighter, and pulled her head to his face. He rested his chin on her forehead, and cried. He cried for his mistakes. He cried for his carelessness. He cried for his lack of trust. Hell, he cried for his... stubbornness.
He laid her down, gently, afraid he'd break her more, than he already had. Asad stood up in a trance, staring at her pale, yet ethereal features, and took one step back. He took another step, and found himself falling backwards, into the very ditch, that he'd uncovered her within, not mere moments ago. He felt himself fall to his knees, never once breaking away his gaze from the limp green figure before him.
He'd done this. He'd left her. He'd betrayed her. All she wanted, was to help his cousin. His cousin. And what had he done in return? He let them... And now she...
"ZOYA!!!!!!!!"
**********
Asad woke up with a start, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He looked around his room, in a panic, and sighed in relief at the petite figure next to him.
She was fine. Zoya, was fine.
It was a nightmare, nothing more.
But somehow, he couldn't seem to get rid of that fear that gripped his heart. The fear of losing her. The fear that one day, Allah wouldn't be able to save her, like he did that day. Like he'd done many times since.
He lay back down on his side, and turned his body to face the angel sleeping soundly next to him. A faint smile adorned her face, as she sighed contentedly and shuffled closer to his warmth. Asad couldn't help but smile at this. She was truly an innocent soul. Even when she slept, she looked like a little child.
He gently caressed her cheek, pushing away a lock of stubborn hair, that kept falling out of place. Zoya sighed once more, her smile growing. She shuffled even closer to him, and Asad soon found her head on his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her slender frame.
A minute later, he noticed her smile turn into a frown. He tried to smooth out the frown lines forming on her forehead, with his thumb, but no avail.
"Aapko kis baat ka dar hai, Mr. Khan..?"
The sound of her voice made him blink. So she was awake. He must have woken her up with his sudden jerk.
Zoya leaned into his chest, breathing in his familiar cologne. But as she rested her ear on his left pectoral, she could hear his heart beating wildly. She looked up at him, and noticed him looking down at her, after she'd posed her question. She could see it. She could see the fear in his eyes.
"Boliye na, Mr. Khan. Kis baat ka dar hai aapko?" repeated Zoya, as she placed her palm on his chiseled cheek. She gently caressed his features, from the scar on his brow, to the spot where his rarely seen dimples usually appear. Asad closed his eyes, tightening his grip on her, relishing in the slight tingles that ran through him as she traces the contour of his face.
"Zoya..." was all he managed, before claiming her lips. Zoya gasped at the urgency with which he kissed her, but responded willingly. She knew Asad was a man of few words. In their last year as husband and wife, Zoya had learned to understand his most subtle actions, and what they meant to convey. And right now, she understood. He was scared. He was scared, of losing her. Why? She wasn't sure, but she knew that this was his way of telling her, that he needed her.
Asad slowly rolled her over to her side, pinning her between the bed and himself. She sighed, as his lips trailed the corner of her mouth and her jaw. He continued feathering kisses, until he reached her neck, nipping it in the process and earning another sigh of pleasure from Zoya. Her hands travelled from his face to his chest, and one hand knotted in his hair. She wrapped the same hand around his neck, pulling him closer to hers, as he continued the sweet torture.
Zoya ran her hands up and down his chest, and the back of his neck with both of her hands, simultaneously, earning small, but audible sharp intakes of breath from Asad. She smiled into his lips. Despite his macho demeanor, he wasn't as tough as he seemed. And that, she realized, was one of the many qualities in him that she had come to love.
After a few minutes, Asad slowly pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. Zoya caressed his face lovingly, once again, this time with both hands, and guided his head to her chest. He obliged, and nuzzled her chest with his nose. Zoya giggled, as she felt his stubble scratch her exposed skin.
"Mr. Khan..." she began.
"Hmm..." was all he responded with.
"Mein kahin jaoongi. Aapko darne ki, koi zarurat nahin hai. Yeh musibat, aapi ki hai. Aur kisi ki nahin. Samje aap," finished Zoya, her voice cracking at the last word. So much for trying to lighten the mood, she thought to herself.
Asad listened to her words. He felt a warm feeling in his heart. He thought back to his heart wrenching confession of his love for her, and realized it was incomplete. It had been a year and a month since that agonizing month of their lives, and yet he hadn't told her again, how he felt. He had to get it out. Maybe that was the purpose of this dream. He didn't know. But he knew this much. Whether she knew it or not, he wanted to tell her just what she meant to him, and since when.
Zoya could hear his steady breathing, but also felt his lashes on her skin. He was still awake, which meant he was thinking about something. She kept mum, and slowly ran her hands through his hair soothingly.
Asad closed his eyes, sighing in contentment at her gesture. Yes, he thought. I will tell her.
"Jaanti hai, Zoya," he began, "meine aapse itna to kaha, ki mein aapse, beimtehaan mohabbat karta hoon," he paused. Both of their minds wandered to that fateful day. His confession played on a loop in Zoya's mind.
"I love you, Zoya. Mein tumse mohabbat karta hoon, Zoya."
"Lekin, mujhe aapse ek aur baat kehni hai," continued Asad. Zoya listened intently. It was a rare sight, Mr. Khan opening up. She cherished every moment he did. And this was one of those precious moments. She kept quiet, and waited for him to finish.
"Mangalpur..." but he stopped. Flashes of his nightmare manifested themselves before his eyes, and he opened them, staring into the darkness of his room. Zoya froze. She hadn't thought of that incident in over a year. But that was because she'd been unconscious for most of it. Her grip on his hair tightened, as she reassured him that it was the past.
He smiled, regaining his composure. That was the past. This is the present. And his present, is Zoya.
"Tab, tab mujhe ehsaas hua, ki mein, ki aap, mere liye, kitni maine rakh thi hain," he let out, finally.
Zoya's eyes brimmed with tears. It all fit. His sudden change in behaviour towards her. His show of concern. How he gently wiped the dirt off her face. How he watched her intently, as she thirstily drank water. How he made her comfortable on the tractor, on their way home. His concern for her when they reached home. His kiss on her forehead, when she came to.
Zoya brought his face to hers, and looked him in the eyes.
"Tabse, aapko tabse patha tha... Agar aapko, tab, pata chala, to aap, mujhse phir bhi kyun larte the? Hmm?" she asked, her voice watery, as a lone tear made it's way down her left cheek.
"Aapse larne mein, maza hi kuch aur hai," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. Oh, how he hated her tears. He pushed himself up, and propped himself up on his elbow on the bed. With his free hand, he wiped her tears, and let his hand linger on her cheek. Zoya sighed, electrified once again by his touch, and leaned into his hand. Both looked at each other, and once again, the need for words was gone. He rolled back to his side of the bed, not once breaking their eye lock, and gently pulled her into his arms.
Zoya nuzzled his neck with her nose, once again, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. She wrapped her left arm around his waist, and moulded herself to his body, like she had many times before. Asad rested his chin on the top of her forehead, mirroring their earlier, yet opposite position. They snuggled into each other, reveling in each other's scent, touch, warmth. None of them realized, when sleep overcame them both.
A/N:
Yeah, not my best work. Especially the part where he decides to tell her. But what to do! Had to start somewhere to get rid of my block! And though this wasn't up to par (for me anyway!) It helped clear the block! And now I can get writing on the stories you're all waiting for so anxiously 😆
Chappals, tomatoes, shoes (size 8 please!) and even candy are good! (No marshmallows please! Eww!) 🤣
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