~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 11: Where There's a Will
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Are you kidding me?"
Seher yelled, her eyes furiously gazing up at the man who had kept so much from
her. Her mind was whirling; as she struggled to deal with this latest revelation.
"Seher," Rehan began, his
voice trailing off when he realized he had no idea what he could say. His heart
had begun to pound rapidly, seeing her there in front of him. Allah miyah, how long will this test last?
How long will it be before she gives up and goes away forever?' he asked
silently, looking up to the sky.
But another conflicted part of him,
the desperate lover, immediately protested the thought of her leaving. She
couldn't go away. She wouldn't just turn her back on him, would she? He
clenched his fists, fighting the emotional storm brewing inside of him. But it
was her next action that gratified that desperate part of him.
Seher bounded up the stairs, running
towards him instead of away. She stopped only when she was in front of him.
Reaching out, she grabbed his wrist in her slender hand, as if afraid that he
would escape before she had the chance to demand answers.
Rehan closed his eyes, her intoxicating
scent hitting him like a blow. She was here right now, and he would make this
moment into another memory. With that one touch, everything else had
disappeared. Aahil bhai . . . the
reasons for why he should stay away . . . none of that mattered now. But, no.
He ruthlessly shook his head, breaking free of the spell that she had cast. She
wouldn't get him that easily. "What do you want, Seher? Where did you even
come from?" He looked behind himself at the closed door leading out from
the house and then to the backyard.
"Does that really
matter?" Seher threw at him incredulously. "Come with me."
Tugging on his wrist, she pulled him one way and then stopped. Moving once more, she began to pull him toward
another direction, and then stopped once more with an annoyed huff.
"What are you doing?"
Rehan asked her in confusion. He flexed his arm unconsciously on feeling her
fingers clench around his wrist, his body warming at her touch. Maybe just a little bit longer?' that
desperate lover begged. In rejection of that plea, he pulled his arm away.
"I'm trying to get us some
privacy," Seher barked at him, grabbing onto his arm once more and tugging
at it.
"And you didn't think that
maybe the house might be a good place for that?" he asked sarcastically.
"Well, I couldn't trust you not to go
and hide in some random room with Lateef acting as your bodyguard, now could
I?" Seher threw back at him.
Rehan shook his head at her, unable
to defend himself. "This way," he said brusquely, pulling free and then
grasping her hand in his. Unconsciously linking their fingers together, he led
her into the house and down the hallway. Soon they were in the privacy of his sitting
room, his eyes trained on her while she paced in front of him.
She stopped and glared at him, her
arms crossed over her chest. "So?"
"So what?" he repeated,
staring back at her.
"Begin talking, Aa-," she
closed her eyes, biting her lip. Her voice was thick when she spoke the next
words. "If you ever had any feelings for me, begin talking, Mr. Rehan
Imran Qureshi."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sanam stared at the man left behind,
wondering if she could get him to talk now that they were face to face. Her
eyes moved over his clothes, still impeccable, despite the fact that his life
was going through such upheaval. The same style. Open-necked navy blue dress
shirt, with a couple of buttons undone. Pants closely molded to his legs. The
same arrogance projecting from him.
He still seemed like that man that
she had come to know, but looks could be deceiving. If you looked closely, you
could see the affects of the past few days. There was the full five o'clock
shadow covering his jaw, rather than the shaped goatee she had come to expect.
The hair falling across his forehead, instead of being fully styled. She
blinked rapidly, her eyes fascinated by that unkempt look. Some secret part of
her just wanted to run her lips across that roughness covering his jaw. She
wondered, suddenly distracted, how it would feel to kiss him there.
No,' she shook her head. She couldn't be distracted by such
thoughts. She looked into his eyes, and saw the evidence of sleepless nights.
She saw the bags under his eyes. She saw the sadness . . . had it always been
there, and she just hadn't noticed? Had she been too mesmerized by who she
thought he was to worry about the man behind the faade?
"What are you doing
here?" he asked grimly, a muscle clenching in his jaw.
She firmed her jaw and moved over
to him. "This time, there's no gate between us," she remarked dryly. "You
don't get to walk away."
"If I recall correctly,"
he said, moving back, "You were the one who walked away this
morning."
She smirked at him, stepping closer.
"Did that annoy you?"
He moved back some more, creating more
distance between them.
"Why do you do that?" she
asked, staring at him quizzically.
"What?" he asked,
crossing his arms over his chest, causing his muscles to bulge.
"Why are you backing up as if
I'm going to do something to you?" she asked in frustration. "Why
can't you trust me? Why couldn't you tell me the truth before revealing it to
the world?" she demanded, striding forward. When she finally stopped, he
realized that she had left him no room for further retreat.
He silently gasped as his back
landed against the wall, flinching at the unexpected contact. The feeling of
being cornered was an unpleasant reminder of the past that he was still trying
to forget.
Aahil carefully lay down, his body
flinching when his back came into contact with the bed. Turning over, he lay on
his stomach, hoping that the pain would lessen. His wounds were still tender.
The blood still thrummed in his body, his heart beating furiously, as he
struggled with the aftereffects of that last beating.
He heard soft footsteps, and then a
presence by the bed.
"Go away," he ordered
quietly.
"You're still bleeding," a
voice noted solemnly.
"I know," he muttered.
"It'll eventually stop."
"I can bandage it up," the
figure offered after a pause. "Let me clean the wounds."
"Leave me alone." He buried
his head in the pillow to hide the tears that had begun to fall. "I just
need to sleep. When I wake up, it'll be fine."
The figure silently left the room, but
Aahil didn't hear. He'd already fallen into the darkness.
Sanam crowded him into the wall.
When he turned to the right, she slammed an arm up to block him. He glared at
her, and then moved to the left. She slammed her other arm up.
She raised an eyebrow at him. When
he said nothing, she urged softly, "Don't shut me out, Aahil."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Please don't shut me
out." Tears slid down her cheeks, as her eyes silently begged him to open up.
His heart fell at the tears. He had
been a stone . . . he had been resolute behind closed doors and with Lateef
between the two of them last night. But the wall he'd built around his heart
was melting in the light of day. Nothing he told himself, no warnings, worked
to stop his mouth from opening and the words pouring out.
"When I was 4-years-old, I was
abandoned at an orphanage by my mother," he began, making an effort to
keep his voice steady. "I
didn't have a father to begin with. Well, I do have one, but just purely in a
biological sense. And then my mother decided to leave me behind." He
turned away from the sympathy in her eyes, abhorring the fact that she was
pitying him.
If he was completely honest with himself, he had felt a rush every time
people had looked at him with awe when they believed him the Nawab of Bhopal.
But he was the little orphan boy once again, and while he was ashamed of those
feelings, he missed being the person that people automatically respected and
revered. He flexed his jaw, trying to suppress the regret flooding through him
when he glimpsed the pity in Seher's eyes.
Seher walked towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Go
on," she softly urged him.
Nodding his head, he began once more. "You know my mom passed away
a long time ago. She left behind a note signed with only her
name when she abandoned me at that orphanage. She only left behind her name
because it was required. Otherwise, I may not have even had that. One day I decided to do some research and find
out everything I could about her." He shook his head at his own naivete
and at the optimistic youth that he had once been.
Seher waited for him to continue, but he remained quiet for too long.
Looking at his down bent head, she turned him around and cupped his cheek.
Caressing it lightly, she repeated once more, "Go on. Please."
"To my horror and disbelief," he said through clenched teeth,
pulling away from her touch, "I found out that she was a psychopathic
killer who not only killed a whole slew of people, but she also killed my
sister's mother."
"What do you mean?" Seher asked. "You have a sister?
Isn't that good news? Isn't that something good coming out of all of this
tragedy?" she demanded in confusion.
"My father . . . the man who impregnated my mother was your Imran
Uncle," Rehan explained heavily.
Seher's eyes widened at that revelation.
"He is Haya's father, but he's also my father," he explained
with difficulty. "I'm sure your parents never told you about what else my
mother was guilty of before she went on her killing spree."
Seher gradually connected the dots in her mind. Was that why . . .
"Was that why you were so fascinated with Haya?" she demanded.
He shook his head at her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her
gently. "Seher, you have a family. You have a mother and a father. A
grandmother. Sisters. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. You're surrounded by love. I have
no one. The day I found out about my mother's past . . . was also the day that I
found out I had a father and a sister. For a brief shining moment, it was the happiest
day of my life. For that moment I had family. I wasn't alone in the world, but
that happiness was too short lived. Because immediately thereafter I found out just
who my mother had killed. Thanks to Tanveer, I had a sister that I couldn't call
my own."
"Rehan," Seher said achingly, staring up into his eyes. She
stepped closer to him, so that he was almost embracing her instead.
"Seher, please, let me finish," he ordered, stepping back. But
he did not let go of her slender shoulders, his hands now resting on the sides
of her neck and a thumb absentmindedly playing with her collar bone. "And
stop pitying me. I was all alone in the world. But that hasn't weakened me."
His gaze was steady and confident. "Thanks to what I have lived through
and what I have discovered about my blood, I have loved myself earnestly. I
grew up making da*n sure to give myself plenty of love," he admitted.
"I never once forgot to get myself a birthday gift nor to praise myself when
I succeeded in my goals. Fortunately, I had the nature and the intelligence to
be worthy of all that love." He smiled at her crookedly, backing away until the
distance of the room was between them.
"Rehan," Seher protested, missing his touch.
"And when I finally found someone else that I felt a connection
with. Someone that my heart called its own within moments of meeting her,
imagine how I felt when I realized who that person was."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Despite her entreaty, Aahil
remained silent. That muscle was twitching in his jaw once more, as he
struggled with . . . something.
Was he tempted even a little bit to
share with her, she wondered. When he said nothing, she leaned in, inhaling his
unique scent mixed with that cologne that she had come to crave. And leaning further
in, she did what her heart most desired. She placed her lips against his jaw,
feeling the roughness of that stubble against her soft lips. Her skin prickled
at the contact.
Aahil turned his face away, closing
his eyes at the sensation Sanam's touch evoked deep inside of him. The desire
to grab hold of her and never let go was rising inside of him. He inhaled
sharply, steeling himself against the temptation, but it was no good. With that
breath, he took in her exotic scent. He relished her touch. He moved slightly,
and brushed up against her delectable body, and he was ensorcelled by her
softness. She was a seductive temptation, and he wanted nothing more than to
give in.
She reached up and traced the shadow
on his jaw with her fingers. "How do you think I felt that day I saw you
at the gala?" she mused softly. "I felt a connection with you from
the first moment we met."
"You felt sorry for that
little boy," he said, almost sullenly.
"That makes no sense at
all," she growled, giving him a punishing bite on his jaw. "I thought
you were someone else, you idiot! I didn't know you. And I wanted to know you.
I wanted to touch you. To taste you," she finished in a whisper. She moved
even closer, plastering her body against his. Her fingers came up to clutch at
his collar.
Aahil's body stiffened even further,
the desire inside of him growing into a furious storm. He clenched his fists,
seeking the power to control that storm before it destroyed everything.
She kissed his jaw once more, and
then licked him, tasting him. She exulted in that exotic taste, almost drunk on
it. She was losing control, and she felt no shame. This was the man she loved.
So how fair was it that she hadn't even kissed him?
He shuddered, his arms coming up to
pull her even closer so that there wasn't even air between their bodies.
Reaching up, he grabbed her by the nape of her neck, his hold gentle yet unbreakable.
She let her head fall back, her
eyes meeting his. She was pliant in his hold.
Aahil closed his eyes against the
surrender he saw in hers, and then shook his head. Seeming to come to some sort
of decision, he leaned down, stopping only when he was millimeters away from
her lips. He stopped because Sanam was speaking once more.
"And then to find out you were
Aahil Raza Ibrahim?" she whispered, her lips so close to his that they
touched him for mere fractions of seconds as she let the words out. "My
mind was blown. You were that first meaningful meeting I had. You were also the
second most meaningful meeting I had."
She swallowed with difficulty.
"And to be told along with everyone else that you were a convicted
murderer? To see you taunting the world with that truth and to walk by me as if
I didn't matter?" Her eyes were awash with tears, the passion of moments
ago disappearing under the bitterness of last night. She paused and then spoke
again. "To realize that you didn't care enough to tell me first. To
prepare me. To have me at your side. To realize that you didn't care at all."
He stared down into her eyes, and
then leaned in to place a kiss against her lips, as if he was unable to stop
himself. He saw the passion glazing over her eyes, as she allowed him a glimpse
of how much his proximity affected her. He saw her lips part once more, as she
took in a tremulous breath.
And it was enough. Leaning down, he
touched her lips with his once more. Biting softly at her plump bottom lip, he
pulled them apart, seeking entrance. He began the plunder, his tongue surging
into her mouth, tasting her for the first time. It was her taste. It was her.
Pulling back, he breathed deeply, his arms now tightly holding her in his
embrace. Leaning back down once more, he began to place kisses along her jaw, to
her ear and the soft spot behind her ear.
She moaned softly, passion burning
inside of her. It was too much. The tears that had been ready to fall had
burned away under the fiery passion. And now, she could only feel him, taste
him, breathe him. She moved her hands up to tangle in his hair. Tugging gently,
she pulled him back so that she could kiss his cheek. Kiss his jaw. Taste his
skin. Pulling his head down, she kissed
his eyes. First the right one and then the left. She kissed his forehead. A
part of her hoped that he would know that this was more than just passion. It
was her love.
Aahil abruptly pulled away, pain
flashing across his face. He let her go, his fingers falling away.
And it felt like a rejection of her
love. She was looking and saw his face stiffen. She thought she was ready, but
when he pushed her away it was still unexpected. She fell back, stumbled, fell.
His hands reached out quickly and
grabbed her, pulling her back into his arms. He saved her before she fell. His
heart was beating rapidly, his hold strong.
She looked up into his eyes and saw
the alarm there.
"I didn't mean to hurt
you," he explained with furious urgency. "That was never my
intent."
She wondered if he was only talking
about her almost fall. "It's okay."
"It's not okay. Using force
against a woman is never okay," he retorted.
Aahil
sat up in bed, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. What had happened?
What was it that had awakened him?
He
heard it again. Someone had cried out in pain. His brow wrinkled in worry, and
then he bolted out of bed when he recognized that shrill cry. Running down the
hallway, he reached the living room. His heart froze when he saw the scene in
front of him.
"I
told you not to touch that!" his father was shouting at five-year-old Shazia
sitting on the floor, crying. She was knuckling the tears away, her small shoulders
hunched over. Her small body was trembling in fear, but it meant nothing to the
man shouting over her.
"Stop
crying!" he shouted. The man looked more monster than human, as he stood
there and yelled at the small girl. "I said stop crying! What do you have
to cry about? Looks like you're not going to learn this way," the monster
murmured. "Maybe you need a harsher form of discipline."
Aahil's
eyes widened in horror when he saw him pick up the whip. His precious sister
would not be hurt by that monster. He had thought that as long as he bore
everything, as long as he was the proper son, it would be enough. Everything
else would be okay. But not anymore.
"Leave
her alone!" he shouted, racing into the room.
The
Nawab turned to glare at him, astonished that this boy had dared to challenge
him. He raised the hand with the whip, ready to punish him for his temerity.
Aahil
reached out and grabbed the monster's hand. "No."
"You didn't hurt me," she
said, seeing the panic in his eyes. "You pulled away, it was this,"
she said, pointing down to the rake someone had unthinkingly left on the porch,
"This made me stumble and fall. It wasn't you. You could never hurt me."
She moved forward slowly, hands raised,
as if approaching a wild animal. She was afraid to startle him. She was afraid
that he would run if spooked and maybe never come back.
He backed away, putting distance
between them. "Leave, Sanam."
"Leave the darkness of the past,
Aahil," she encouraged him, "And live in the light."
"It may be light for you,"
Aahil retorted, "But it's always darkness around me. Leave before you
become trapped like me in the darkness."
She shook her head, moving closer. Reaching
out a hand, she smoothed back the hair that had fallen across his forehead and
wiped away the sweat that had appeared with her fingers. She cupped his cheek.
He turned his head, almost against
his will, and kissed the center of her palm.
She hoped that her touch would soothe
him. She hoped that it would take away the worry and pain in his eyes. She
hoped that he could trust her and tell her the truth.
She hoped.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Rehan closed his eyes; he could not
bear to see the hope in her eyes.
"Imagine what I felt when I
realized that the woman in my arms . . . the one who told me her name was Seher
Ahmed Khan. The one who conned me into giving her my number. The one who was an
accountant. The one who loved orchids and loved to dance."
She smiled helplessly at the love
she could hear in his voice.
"When I found out that the
woman who's little habits and quirks I was gathering like little treasures, was
the daughter of that Khan family. The family that my mother had tortured and
destroyed so many years ago. When I found that out, I prudently backed away."
He opened his eyes, looking into hers to emphasize his next words. "But
you wouldn't leave it at that, would you? What is wrong with you?"
"She didn't destroy us,"
Seher burst out, folding her arms across her chest in defiance of his words.
"Granted she hurt my family. She hurt them terribly. But she didn't
destroy us. We're still here. Living. Flourishing. Making our own lives and
planning our own futures." She waved her arms in the air. "And my
future was supposed to be with you before you turned coward."
"I am an orphan, Seher Ahmed
Khan! I am the son of the woman who killed members of your family. I am the son
of the woman who tried to kill your parents. She was the reason that you were
in that brot--." He stopped, unable to say another word.
She could see the tears in his
eyes, and her heart turned over at the self-recrimination she saw there.
"Why do you blame yourself for what happened in the past?" she cried
out. "Why do you blame yourself for the blood in your veins?" She
strode towards him and grabbed him by his shoulders. She tried to shake some
sense into him, but he barely moved. Huffing in frustration, she settled for
digging her nails into his skin as punishment. "What happened to the boy
you were just talking about moments ago? He was confident. He was almost
arrogant. And you're . . . not. What happened, Rehan?"
"That boy had nothing to lose!"
Rehan shouted at her, clutching at her wrists, trying to get her to understand.
"That boy had no family. No parents. No siblings. No friends. No one to
love. And I . . . I now have a brother I care about. I now have a woman that I
lo--."
"That you love and are afraid
to lose," she finished for him. She smiled softly. "And she loves you
so, so much. You're not going to lose her because of this."
"That's easy for you to
say," he shot back, letting his hands fall away. "What about your
family? Will they think the same?"
"I don't care about my
family!" she shouted. She grabbed at his shirt, tugging at it. "If
they would turn their back on someone just because of their parents, then they
aren't the family I know. They aren't my family."
He leaned towards her, grabbing her
face in his hands and forcing her to meet his skeptical gaze. "They will
not accept me once they know the truth. They couldn't. I know what it's like to
live in a world without family. I won't do that to you."
"You won't be doing anything
to me!" Seher shouted back, frustrated beyond belief. "I get to decide what happens with my
life. You don't get to be the noble idiot in this relationship.
"What relationship? How can I
begin something when I know some day you will resent me for all of this?"
he asked in frustration.
"I will never resent
you," she replied. "I will never resent the man that I love."
He opened his mouth.
"I know you'll say that I just
met you. It's only been months, but I know my heart." She slapped a hand
over her heart. "It has settled on you, and it won't change its mind. I
will convince my family. We will
convince my family. We won't take any actions that'll turn them against us, but
you have to trust me. You have to trust in us. You have to remember, where
there's a will, there is a way." She leaned forward and kissed him.
"Please, tell me that the love you confessed was true." Tears began
to fall once more.
Rehan stood there, the woman he
lived inches away. He stared into her eyes and saw love. It was too much. He
took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of all emotion and think
rationally. Sending her away would be the best thing for Seher. If he sent her
away, she wouldn't lose her family. She wouldn't resent him one day.
"You worry about my resenting you
years later," she said softly, "but imagine this. What if we don't have
years together? Anything can happen. Accidents. Tragedy. We could live long miserable
lives separately. We could die tomorrow. Isn't it our duty to live our lives to
the fullest? Isn't it our duty to love as much as we can without fear of what life
may bring?"
If he sent her away, he would have
turned his back on the best thing that ever happened to him. He would turn his
back on love. He had spent years at the orphanage seeing couples come and take
children away to be a part of their family, but no one had ever chosen him to be
a part of their family. No one had chosen him. No one had cared enough or loved
enough.
Until today.
He wiped Seher's tears away, unable
to bear the pain he saw there. He didn't want to be a cause of that pain. Ever.
"I'll . . . trust you with my heart," he finally said, giving in. He
had a feeling that he'd be doing that for the rest of their lives together. "I
will trust you with our future."
"And you won't regret
it," she said with a cheeky smile.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Aahil, as long as you will
it, we can find a way," Sanam whispered. "Tell me what happened. Please,
tell me the truth."
He closed his eyes, her hand still
caressing his cheek, his hand now cradling hers. And with his eyes closed, his
only link to the world was her touch. But it wasn't enough to help him forget
the darkness. It wasn't enough to forget the pain, nor the fear.
Most of all, her touch wasn't
enough to erase the self-loathing.
"You
dare say no to me, boy?" his father shouted back at him, his hands
struggling to keep hold of the whip.
Aahil
fought back like he had never done before. And to his surprise, he won. He got
the whip and threw it across the room.
"Enough!" Aahil shouted at
his father, pushing him back and away from him and his sister. "You will
never lay a hand on my sisters, do you understand?"
"You don't dictate to me,"
the Nawab of Bhopal yelled back. "You are my children. I do what I want
with you. I do what I want!" he shouted at Aahil.
Aahil grabbed the man by the collar. "Not anymore." For the first
time, he realized that he was taller than his father. And when he pushed him
back, his father actually stumbled. "You don't beat my sisters. You will
never lay a hand on them," he said through gritted teeth. "Shazia, go
to your room." He watched his little sister look at him fearfully before
running out the door.
"How da--," his father
began, his voice loud enough to bring servants running to the door.
Aahil did not notice them. "You
will never beat us again. You will never beat me again. Lay another hand on me,
and I'll tell the world. What do you think Bhopal will think about the Nawab
being an alcoholic and a child beater?"
"You wouldn't dare. You, the
fearful little dog that I've kept chained and beaten? Where would you get the
courage?"
"Do you want to try me? I'll
spread the word, and you'll lose your reputation. Know this. If you don't stop and
your reputation doesn't matter to you . . . if you touch her again, if you
touch me again, I'm going to kill you."
The Nawab began to laugh, the
incredulity apparent on his face. "You and what army, son?"
"I stopped being your son when
you began beating me." When the Nawab only continued to laugh, Aahil
lunged at him. "I'll kill you!" And it was the servants that pulled
him away. The servants who held on to him, while the Nawab walked past him,
still laughing at Aahil's temerity.
". . . kill you!"
He pulled away from her touch, unable
to handle her or the past any longer.
"Don't pull away from me!"
Sanam shouted in frustration. "Why do I have to beg for the truth from the
man I love? You said you loved me," she said in a small voice.
Aahil stared at her, his head
tilted to the side. A coldness had appeared in his eyes that made her very
afraid. She knew that she didn't want to hear the words that would come out of
his mouth next.
"There is so much you don't
know about me," Aahil said harshly. "Back then, you said you had
faith, but now you want answers? You want me to tell you my secrets. Why would
I trust you? How could I trust you? I have been alone all of my life, Sanam
Ahmed Khan. Everything I've done, I've done alone. I saved myself. I protected
myself. And, suddenly, you expect all of that to change? You want me to depend
on you?" He laughed sardonically. "Stop dreaming, Sanam. I have."
He walked to the door of his home, leaving her standing on the porch. Gazing
back at her, he issued an order, leaving no room for further debate.
"Leave."
She faltered at the blankness she
saw in his eyes, falling back and away from him. "You want me to leave?
Fine. No more," she said resolutely. "No more begging you to tell me
the truth, Aahil Raza Ibrahim. I'm done. I will walk away now since that's what
you want," she said. "Just know one thing," she said calmly, pushing
all of the pain deep inside of herself, deep enough so that she could function
right now. "I'm going to make sure you regret turning me away."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ammi," Sanam called out,
disturbing her mother, as the older woman sat in front of the computer, doing
some work before their father came home.
"What is it?" Zoya asked,
turning to smile at her two lovely daughters. The smile fell away when she saw
the distraught expressions on their faces. "What is it now?" she asked
with trepidation.
"Mom," Seher began
hesitantly. "It seems," she tilted her head, her fingers twisting
themselves into knots, "That the Nawab was not the only one who was
keeping secrets."
Zoya steeled herself, taking a deep
breath and then gazing at her daughters. "Okay, tell me. I'm ready."
"Rehan is . . .," Seher
began. "Now that we know that he is not the Nawab, I was able to piece
together that he was the orphan that he told me about. He grew up in an
orphanage right here in Bhopal. He lived there until he was 18, and then won a
scholarship to go to the US to study. That's where he met the Nawab."
"Is that what this is about?"
Zoya cried out, relieved that this was all it was. Jumping up, she came over to
Seher and grasped her hands. "Beta,
I don't . . . . we don't care about that! Just because he's an orphan doesn't
mean anything. You know this family doesn't care about status."
"Mom!" Seher said,
"I know that. You didn't raise us to be snobs, either. The real problem
is. . ." She stopped, unable to go on. "The truth is . . . " She
stopped once more. She turned to look at Sanam, silently entreating her twin to
say the words that she couldn't.
"When we went over there today
to demand some answers," Sanam began, "We heard something that I
don't think Rehan wanted us to."
"Now what?" Zoya repeated,
gazing at Sanam in consternation.
"You know that he was an
orphan," Sanam began.
"We've already established that," Zoya snapped at her. "The
longer you take to tell me, the more worried I'm going to get."
"Well, he eventually found out
who is mother is. Or was," Sanam explained.
"Well, isn't that good
news?" Zoya demanded.
"No," Sanam said, shaking
her head.
"No?"
"His mother was Tanveer,"
Sanam forced herself to utter the words. "The same Tanveer who turned this
family's lives upside down years ago."
There was a moment of silence as
Zoya processed those words. Her eyes blinked open and shut, and then filled
with horror. Her body froze from the shock. "Allah miyah! What is wrong with that boy?" Zoya yelped, her
heart beating furiously. "How could he hide that from us? How could they
both hide such huge things from us? From the two of you?" She was
practically yelling now. "First, they switched identities," she began
at full volume, counting their sins on her fingers. "Then the Nawab came out
as being a convicted murderer. And not just any murderer, he killed his own
father! And the cherry on the cake, Rehab, who I kind of figured as being an
orphan when I really thought about it last night, turns out to have a psycho
bit*h as his mother. The same psycho bit*h who wreaked havoc on our family
decades ago?" She stopped and glared at her daughters, tapping one foot in
her agitation. "They should have told you every da*n secret about
themselves before you all fell in love with each other!"
"Mom, please," Sanam
entreated. "Rehan didn't do anything."
"Except hide the truth from
us," Zoya pointed out, grabbing her hair and tugging at it in frustration.
"What is your father going to say?"
"Is that the truth?"
Asad's voice called out darkly from the doorway.
Three pairs of eyes turned to stare
in horror at the man standing there.
"Dad," Seher began
uncertainly, unsure of what to say in the face of his shocked fury.
"It seems we heard
correctly," a voice murmured from behind him. "Rehan is Tanveer's
son," Dilshad repeated, coming to stand next to Asad. The tears glimmering
in her eyes were evidence of the pain inside.
Asad placed a consoling arm around his
mother's shoulders, directing her towards the couch. "What right did they
have to . . . come into our lives when they weren't going to be honest? What
right did they have to steal your hearts without telling you what they were
getting you two into?"
"Asad beta," Dilshad began, brushing her tears away. "You can't
jus--"
"Ammi, no! He's Tanveer's son!" he said, emphasizing the name.
"She killed my sister. Her blood runs in his veins. He cannot have a place
in our lives. I cannot have him as a guest in our home." He shook his
head, struggling with his own surge of dark emotions. The fury seemed to be
winning. "I can't have Tanveer's son as part of our family."
"Asad beta," Dilshad said sadly. "She killed my daughter. You think I don't remember
what that woman did? She killed my husband. She killed Zoya's father. She tried
to take you and Zoya from me," she said, reaching out a loving hand to cup
his cheek. Tears were trickling down her cheeks, as she struggled with the
horrific memories of discovering the bodies on that tragic day.
"Ammi," Asad said, covering that hand with his own.
"But he's not the one at
fault," Dilshad said softly, hoping that her son would understand. "I
don't believe in the sins of the father. And when you calm down, you'll remember
that neither do you."
"No!" Asad burst out,
standing upright and beginning to pace back and forth across the room. "I
can't have Seher marry Tanveer's son. That would mean she'd have won!"
"Abu, please!" Sanam said, coming up to grab her father's arm.
"Please. She didn't even raise him! How can you blame him for his
blood!"
"Because it's her blood!" Asad shouted, pulling free
of her hold and glaring at his family. "I almost lost your mother and all
of you because of her. I lost my father and my sister because of her. Zoya, you
lost your father. Why are you silent?" He turned to glare at his daughters
and his mother. "Accept him? You want me to say it's okay for Seher to
marry him? One day, you would have kids together," he said, gazing at
Seher. "What if I can't love them because of the blood running in their
veins? Then what?"
Seher's heart melted when she
realized the fear that was behind her father's rejection. "Dad, that won't
happen, because those children would also be a part of me. They would be a part
of you. You couldn't hate a part of yourself. You have to know, Rehan isn't
just Tanveer's son. He has no memories of her. He grew up alone. He took care
of himself. And on his own, he came to be the man he is today." She came to
stand next to him, grasping his hand entreatingly. "Do you realize, that a
woman like Tanveer could never have raised Rehan to be that man? He's already
shown you how different he is from her."
"Please give him a
chance," Sanam said. "Please."
Asad stared at them silently, and then
shook his head. "I can't. Don't ask me to forget. Don't ask that of me."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Haye Allah, who is it at this hour? Don't these people know how
tired I get at the end of the day?" Lateef cried out. "After all, main to hoon chui mui."
Rehan heard Lateef muttering to
herself before flouncing toward the door. Shaking his head at her shenanigans,
he moved towards his bedroom. Whoever it was, Lateef would turn them away. It
hadn't been an easy day for anyone in the house, especially after Seher and
Sanam had left. Aahil bhai had been
in a black mood since then. He'd finally gone to bed, after giving explicit
orders to Lateef about not letting anyone in on pain of death.
"Hey! You can't ju--"
"Bhai?"
Rehan wondered why Aahil's sisters
had come back to the home. The last he knew, they were staying at a hotel near
the airport. The two would be flying out tomorrow morning for the states to stay
with an aunt living in New York. The girls had decided to study there until the
furor died down in Bhopal.
"Rehan . . . bhai," the female voice called out
hesitantly.
Rehan whirled around to stare at
the doorway, his eyes widening in shock at seeing Haya standing there.
"Zoya auntie," she began,
walking into the room with uncertain steps, "told me the truth."
Rehan stepped back, one step for
each one of her steps forward. "Did she tell you who my mother was?"
he asked hoarsely. "Did she tell you that my mother was the reason that
your mother isn't in this world today?"
Haya shook her head, tears
glimmering in her eyes. "She told me that I had a brother. A lonely, young
boy who grew up in an orphanage without any family."
Rehan froze, his eyes widening at
her words. "Did she tell you that that woman's blood runs in my veins?
Didn't she warn you away from me?" he asked hoarsely, trying to suppress
the emotions that were welling up inside of him.
"She told me that I wasn't
alone in the world anymore," Haya answered. "That I would now have
someone . . . a sibling to depend on, unlike my father who has spent the past
two decades running from the guilt he felt at my mother's death. My father
wasn't mine even when we were in the same home."
Rehan bit his lip, his eyes uncertain.
How should he react? What should he say? The uncertainty inside of him was
eating away at the happiness a small part of him dared to feel.
Haya came to stand in front of him,
and reached out to grab his hand. "It's so nice to meet you, Rehan bhai. I can't tell you," she began
with a teary laugh, "how nice it'll be to have a sibling. Someone who'll
always be on my side, just like I'll always be on theirs. At least that's the conclusion
I've come to after a couple of hours of thinking. Can I tell you a
secret?"
Rehan raised a silent eyebrow at
her, his fingers grasping hers in return.
"I've been very jealous of the
relationship that Sanam and Seher have," she confessed with a chuckle. "And
now I have you."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aahil strode back and forth in his office, his movements
angry and abrupt. Glaring silently at the man sitting on the other side of his
desk, he began to move once more. Opening his mouth, he stopped again, unable
to find the words that could get past the anger that was eating away at him. He
began to pace once more. The pacing continued, until he was dizzy. But he
couldn't stop. He was afraid that if he stopped, he would explode and rain fire
on anyone in the vicinity. Especially the man in front of him who had insisted
on this meeting so early in the morning. Now he wished that he had told his
secretary to turn him away.
"Are you kidding me?" he finally burst out,
unable to suppress his anger any longer. "Are you f***ing kidding
me?!" He glared are the man across the desk, crossing his arms across his
chest.
"Aahil Bhai,"
Rehan reprimanded from the side of the room.
"No, Rehan!" Aahil barked at him, turning to
glare at the other man. "I'm not going to calm down. Not about this. What
the hell was that old man thinking?"
"Aahil bhai,
stop yelling," Rehan instructed, coming over to stand next to Aahil and
placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's find out if there is any way out of
this predicament."
"I'm afraid it's air tight," the other man
said, his expression calm despite the fury he saw in Aahil's face.
Aahil laughed bitterly, pulling away from Rehan to go slump
in his chair. "One more F-you from the old man, Rehan. And this lawyer
tells me there is nothing I can do." Turning his head, he stared out the
window, his eyes focused on the sunny scene outside.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Ibrahim, there is no legal
loophole. There is nothing you can do to get out of your obligations," the
lawyer said with finality, standing up. "Your father left a will behind
when he died. And despite how he met his demise," the lawyer said
delicately, "the will states that you must be married before your 30th
birthday or all of the properties and everything associated with the Ibrahim
name . . . down to your home and the wealth that you have accumulated will be confiscated
by the state." Nodding his head in a silent farewell at the two men, he
turned and left the room.
There was only silence in the room after he left, as each
man grappled with this new and troubling revelation.
"I'm not going to let him get what he wants, Rehan. Not
this way," Aahil muttered bleakly, his eyes focused on the scenery
outside. "I don't care. Let them take it all. I'm not going to
dance to his tune. Never again."
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Chapter 12: Zara Sa
A/N: Chapter 11 for your reading pleasure. Sorry for the long wait, but life often gets in the way of what we want to do. 😛 Definitely leave lots of comments to give me motivation for the next update. 😆
Edited by darkice7_12 - 8 years ago
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