"I was on a goddamn vacation in this God-forsaken place. I never meant to get engaged to you. I never meant any of this to happen. You. Me. Us. None of it!"
That was Saira Malik's life in summary. Once a happy-go-lucky girl fantasized about two thin...
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It's like the world around me has slowed down. Everything is happening in slow motion. I feel exhausted. Drained. Like, someone has sucked the energy out of me, leaving nothing behind. I lost count as to how many car drivers have honked at me, auto drivers yelled at me while I sat frozen on my bike in the middle of the street. The signal had turned green long ago, but my senses are yet to return.
Parking the two wheeler, I stumble slightly while trying to get down and push the front door of our house open.
"Back so early?" I heard someone ask. Nodding my head in reply, I kick my shoes off ambling into the living room and crash on the couch.
"Faaahhhaaaadddd?" The low sound reached my ear. "Kiiiiyyyyyaaaa huuuaaa?"
Scrunching my eyes at Wajih, I realize he is saying something. My lips moved in reply, but nothing came out. He says something to someone on his right, whilst looking at me with concern. A glass of water was brought to my mouth, urging me to take a sip.
Getting hold of the glass, I drink the cold water clamping my eyes shut. Saira's face flashes before me. Her smile when she met my eyes. Her giggle when she said 'I knew it was you.' Her frustration when she tried to keep her hair out of her face. Wide eyes and the strong emotion in them when I tucked the strands of hair behind her ear. The pout of her lips when she noticed the smudged design on her palm. The mischievous glint on her face when she spoke to Shokoor of me.
Suddenly replaced by the stoic expression when the Caleb guy's voice flowed out of the phone's speaker. The look on her face when he reminds her about him confessing his feelings to her and not regretting it, had me choke on the water.
The glass slipped from my hand, crashing against the cold floor and shattering into pieces. Just like my heart.
"I'm--- fine." I say in between my coughing fit, to who ever was patting my back. "Theek hu main."
Drawing in a sharp breath, I slump against the sofa. Breaking free from the trance.
"Theek hai?" Wajih asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
(You okay?)
"Haan." A beat of silence passed, before he spoke again.
(Yea.)
"How are you back so early? And why are you acting like Kabir Singh, high on something?"
"Wo, uh. . ." I sigh, rubbing my face. "I just gave mummy the bag and came home."
"Oh yeah?" He smirks. "What is this then?" Wiggling his brows, he points to the henna stain on my chest.
"Is that an 'S'?! You got a f✨cking S on your kurta?! Please tell me it's from her mehndi!" When the corner of my mouth twitches in reply, he hauls.
