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تو ملا ہے تو یہ احساس ہوا ہے مجھ کو
یہ میری عمر محبت کے لیے تھوڑی ہے

Thursday – 5:56pm

The wedding was in two days.

Hemayal Khakwani's nerves were all over the place, the fluttering of the heart increasing as each hour went by. Excitement and fear had both found refuge in her heart – excitement because she was finally going to be with Ibrahim, and fear because she didn't know if the decision she'd made was right.

She loved Ibrahim, had loved him since she was a child, but will this love be enough to hold them together when another chaos hit? In regard to her trust issues and his short-temper tendencies, she heavily doubted it. Another storm and they would crumble; another test and they would fail.

"Having second thoughts, Hami?" Mehmal's smiling voice pulled Hemayal out of the reverie and she sighed before helplessly nodding her head.

Hemayal and her family had come to Abbottabad, their home town, for the wedding festivities. Coming back to the same city where everything went wrong, each one of her wound had sliced open. Memories, too many of them to bear, hit her right across the chest – all painful.

"I don't think we'll survive, Mehmal." Hemayal answered truthfully, voicing her fears.

"You will." Mehmal slapped her head gently before sitting beside her at the foot of the bed, eyes compassionate.

"How do you know that?" Hemayal asked, shaking her head in confusion.

"Because I've never seen anything like the way you love him." Mehmal responded and Hemayal almost wanted to cry out.

"That's the issue. I've always loved him, even when I was plotting against him. How can I love someone and plan against them at the same time?" Hemayal asked, at the verge of crying.

"But who was the one hurting the most during and after the planning?" Mehmal asked, such a sad smile on her face. "You." Mehmal said and Hemayal stopped short for a second. "When he was arrested, you were devastated. When he lost his job, you wanted to give up your own. And even when you plotted against him, I knew you were breaking inside."

"But I did it anyway, didn't I? Despite all the love I had for him, I never thought of giving up on the revenge." Hemayal said, eyes distantly staring ahead at herself through the mirror placed in front.

"For that, I'm proud of you. You did what you thought was right and loving someone is not enough reason to forgive someone." Mehmal said and Hemayal turned to her.

"It's not?" She asked.

"No, Hami, no. What he did was wrong, and he had to pay. If you had chosen to talk to him, forgive him because he was sorry and not because you were in love with him, I would have stood beside you." Mehmal answered and Hemayal wondered how in this earth did she always have the perfect answers.

"I don't get it." Hemayal said after a second, thinking Mehmal's words through.

"See, it's simple. You're worried if something like this happens again and you're not able to forgive him just because you're in love with him, that'd count as betrayal?" Mehmal asked and Hemayal nodded her head, confused and hurt.

"Yeah." She replied, voice small.

"It's absolute bullshit, Hami. Love him because he deserves to be loved, not because the world expects you to, and forgive him if he deserves to be forgiven, not because love expects you to." Mehmal went on and Hemayal nodded, understanding Mehmal's gently put words.

"You're right, I get it. He talked about this too, said if something like this happens again, at least give him the benefit of doubt before forming conclusions." Hemayal said.

"I hate to tell you this, honey, but you man's smart," Mehmal winked at her and Hemayal let out a small laugh. "And it's only logical, you see. Now that you two will be married, things will be different. And I know that you have trust issues but forgiving someone, giving them second chances – there's nothing wrong in it."

"What if-" Hemayal began but was softly cut off.

"Sometimes, he'll deserve your forgiveness, Hami, sometimes, he won't, but it's not your job to figure out when to do what. All you have to do is see if the sorry in his words reach his eyes." Mehmal said.

"And if it doesn't?" Hemayal asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"It will because I haven't seen anything like the way he loves you either," Mehmal responded and a slow blush crept up her face, heating her blood. "Go talk to him, figure things out with him too."

Hemayal nodded, relaxed after a long, long time. Her relationship with Ibrahim had too many complications to begin with but she was willing to bet all on it if it meant that she could have the kind of happiness she'd been feeling for the past three weeks for the rest of her life.

And Ibrahim gave her that happiness.

"Oh, shoot, I almost forgot what I came here for," Mehmal cursed as she handed Hemayal a bouquet of white roses. "These came for you."

"Ibrahim?" Hemayal looked at her cousin – crimson for all the right reasons.

"I didn't check." Mehmal said, shrugging her shoulder and Hemayal pulled out a note from inside, lips tilted in a shy smile.

And then, everything died – her smile, her heart and her joy, and her cheeks reddened for all the wrong reasons for inside, there read only a single sentence;

"Twelve years ago, three people died. Fourth will die on 9th."

|¤¤¤|

8:32pm

The night was still young outside as Hemayal parked her car outside the gate of Yazdani House and exited, motion swift and fluid. Phone clutched in her hand, she walked hurriedly to the sidewalk and waited, every gesture impatient. The wind of Abbottabad played with her dress – a heavily embroidered kurta shalwar suited for a bride – but failed to trigger a sense of cold in her.

There was too much chill on the inside.

"Hemayal?" A soft whisper sounded nearby and Hemayal pressed her lips in a small smile.

"I'm here, Safaa." She said, exiting the dark and standing right beneath the lamp post.

"I know you said it was urgent, but can I ask why?" Safaa sounded curious but Hemayal had nothing to entertain her with – neither time nor intention.

"Later, maybe. Now, I really must see him. Can you help me?" Hemayal asked, eyes wide and there must be something in her tone that made Safaa nod her head and turn around.

"Is everything alright?" Safaa asked as she went around the house to the back, Hemayal close on the trail.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine." Hemayal tried to add a little cheer in her voice but failed miserably when Safaa threw her a look from across her shoulder.

"We studied together for five years, girl. And trust me, you were never a good liar." Safaa chuckled softly, all in good humor, and Hemayal felt a small smile gracing her lips too.

"I'm sorry...it's just...something's bothering me and I need to see your brother." Hemayal answered, trying to be cautious even when being truthful.

"Ohh," Safaa's ohh was rather long and meaningful and Hemayal was glad where the girl's thoughts were heading – anything to keep her occupied. "I get it, now. Can't spend a day without him, can you?"

"No, I really can't." Hemayal mumbled, pressing her lips together as she encouraged Safaa's thoughts, cringing inside.

What is it with women and romance?

"It's sweet, seeing you two like this." Safaa said as she finally stopped by a door that opened into the kitchen, and Hemayal gently nodded her head.

"I'm glad you approve." Hemayal mumbled, distracted, as she peered inside the empty kitchen.

"Ahh, Hemayal, I kinda missed your sarcasm." Safaa laughed it off as she took Hemayal through the kitchen and into the main hall, her steps cautious now too.

"Kind of? I'm hurt." Hemayal too smiled before following Safaa who whispered a soft run to her and hurriedly climbed the stairs.

"Ohh, Bhabhi dearest is here." A voice sounded and Hemayal shut her eyes tightly before turning around, helpless expression on her face as her eyes landed on Mustafa.

"Here I am." Hemayal said, lips pressed too tightly, and Mustafa broke into a laughter.

"As far as I know, you're not allowed to see Abi." Mustafa said, all the shades of mischief on his face.

"Hence, the back door, Mustafa." Hemayal replied, eager to end her conversation with her brother-in-law and see her man.

Oh, how she wished to see him right this instant.

"My God," Mustafa exclaimed, hand going to his heart. "Your first time in this house and you enter through the back door? Not fair, Bhabhi, you should have informed us. We should have welcomed you with music and flowers."

"Exactly the reason I didn't inform," Hemayal said, brows raising as she laughed slightly as Mustafa's antics. "Can I see him now, please? It's a little urgent."

"Sure, sure. Who are we to stop the two lovers from meeting?" Mustafa said, all laughs and smiles, and Hemayal found herself shaking her head, still smiling.

Safaa gestured her and after a parting glance in Mustafa's direction, Hemayal moved through a series of corridors, all lost as she followed the girl in front. Finally, she stopped by a door and Hemayal could already tell it was his room.

"Thank you, Safaa. I'll never forget this favor." Hemayal said earnestly, a gentle smile on her face.

"Oh, shut it." Safaa slapped her slightly on the forearm before walking past her.

Sighing, Hemayal turned to face the door and after gathering her wits, knocked slowly. After a second, the door opened, and shirtless Ibrahim stood before her, flabbergasted. With his eyes wide in shock, he took in her form from head to toe before clearing his voice.

"Hemayal...what...what are you doing here?" Ibrahim asked, totally and utterly bewildered.

"Wear a shirt, Yazdani." Hemayal said as she walked past him and deep into his room, taking in the scenery of the room with a quick glance.

White and blue dominated the room – the furniture, sheets, walls and paintings – and Hemayal let herself be soothed by the colors and familiar scent of him lingering in the air. Sighing heavily, she turned around to face her man who by now, had closed the door, and was hurriedly adorning a shirt on his lean, built frame.

"Hemayal!" He gasped after a second, having processed her presence here and Hemayal, for the first time in the entire day, felt a genuine smile lifting her lips.

"It's good to see you too." She said, and Ibrahim quickly moved towards her, catching her by the elbow and steadying her tilting world – literally.

"Is everything alright? How did you come here? Why did you come here; you should have called me outside." Ibrahim said, too many questions in his voice.

"You would have asked too many questions before coming." Hemayal replied, shrugging.

Looking deep in his eyes, Hemayal felt all the pain and confusion catching up to her finally. Slowly, coiling her hand around his neck, she leaned forward and rested her head against the crook of his neck, inhaling his heavenly scent deeply. All the tensions – the mysteries and confusions – seemed to slowly ebb away from her mind, leaving behind a gushing wave of tranquility she could bathe in.

"Baby..." Ibrahim whispered, voice softer than honey, as he placed a hand on her hair, the other arm going around her waist. "What happened?"

"Can't a wife hug her husband without something happening?" Hemayal whispered, snuggling deeply in his warm chest that always seemed to make things right for her.

"Sure, she can, but are you?" Ibrahim said and Hemayal sighed before pulling back, her eyes lost and tired.

"No, not really." Hemayal said as Ibrahim tucked a rebellious strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes soft.

"Tell me, what happened?" He said as he took her by the elbow to the sofa placed by the window, seating the two of them close by.

"Here, read this." Hemayal took the two notes from her purse and handed it to him, hands shaking ever so slightly.

"Ohh, love letters." Ibrahim gazed at her mischievously and Hemayal only rolled her eyes at his antics to lift her mood; lips, however, curling into a smile.

His smile, however, vanished instantly when his eyes absorbed the content of the note, his shocked gaze rising to meet hers. Horror filled his features before he raised the notes in the air and stammered.

"What...what's this?" Ibrahim asked, bewilderment lacing his voice.

"I received one in the restaurant the day our wedding date was decided and the other one just now." Hemayal replied, voice small as she saw Ibrahim rereading the notes.

"Who sent you these?" Ibrahim asked, more to himself than to her, and Hemayal shrugged.

"No idea." Hemayal shook her head.

"Someone close, definitely," Ibrahim said, for now that the shock had subsided, the wheels in his brain began to turn, his mind working. "You said you received one in the restaurant, moments after the date was decided?"

"Yeah." Hemayal nodded, unsure as to where he was heading.

"So, whoever sent you these, he has to be close by." Ibrahim said and Hemayal found herself nodding her head, catching up.

"It can't be someone in the family. Maybe someone who works for you but has his loyalty elsewhere." Hemayal mused, eyes thoughtful.

"That's what I'm thinking." Ibrahim nodded, his eyes distant, lost in thought.

"Who else was there in the restaurant other than family?" Hemayal turned her eyes to him, placing a soft hand against his rough stubble to bring his eyes on her.

"Adam Uncle, but he's family. And bodyguards, driver." Ibrahim said, and Hemayal nodded, thinking.

"You should get them all checked, Ibrahim." Hemayal suggested and Ibrahim nodded his head slowly.

Afterwards, a slow silence fell on the room, broken by their occasional breaths but even those were few. In silence, they both thought. The appearance of an unknown man who threatened to endanger their happiness terrified them both for they had worked and pained day in and night out to reach this point.

"Who else died that night?" Hemayal asked, coming to the other note.

"My uncle, your aunt. I don't think anyone else died." Ibrahim said, as he removed Hemayal's hand from his face and caged it in his hands, his gesture an instinct.

"Well, somebody obviously did. I think you should ask your father, he'll know." Hemayal said and Ibrahim nodded.

"But...but what does his death have to do with you? Why is the person sending you these notes?" Ibrahim asked, confused, as he tightened his hold on Hemayal's hand distractedly.

"I don't know, maybe he's out on revenge for the third person who died." Hemayal guessed and Ibrahim shrugged, still confused.

"And someone so close to us...maybe present in this house right now..." Ibrahim said, his voice obviously horrified and just as Hemayal began to make fun of his cowardice, he tightened his hold on her hands and brought them towards his face, leaving a lingering kiss on her knuckles and Hemayal understood.

He was scared for her.

"I'll be alright, Yazdani." Hemayal tried to smile, as she saw Ibrahim leaning his face against her hands.

"You...you just came here. Alone. Something could have happened to you." He said forcefully before sighing and dropping his forehead against hers, his breaths troubled.

"Nothing happened to me and Safaa was there with me. It's okay." Hemayal said, placing a hand against his shoulder to transfer some of her strength to him.

"I don't...Hemayal!" he breathed his name, almost gasped. "Please be more cautious from now on. I know you have no concern for your safety, but I don't wanna die young in my worry for you."

At that, she laughed slowly.

"I'll be careful." Hemayal promised.

"And I'll call Ali, let him know everything. He'll figure this out." Ibrahim mumbled as he pulled back, thoughtful expression intensifying his rugged features.

"Ali?" Hemayal asked.

"Ali's a friend of mine. He is posted here in the police." Ibrahim informed her, and she was nodding her head when a thought struck Ibrahim and he let go of her immediately.

"Ali...you...Oh, shit." Ibrahim mumbled as he raked a trembling hand through his hair, his posture rigid.

"What's wrong?" Hemayal breathed, leaning in towards him.

"God, it's the same person. He keeps making appearance." Ibrahim mumbled and Hemayal looked at his ashen face expectantly, hoping for him to explain the thought that had made him double over.

"Your kidnapping..." Ibrahim mumbled again and Hemayal stopped short for a second.

"Ibrahim, you're scaring me. What do you mean?" Hemayal asked, eyes wide in horror, and Ibrahim finally turned to her and breathed heavily, clearing the shock that had enveloped him.

"You remember I told you that there were two files, one of you and the other of Humna which Ali gave to me?" Ibrahim asked, taking her hand in his own again, this time a different kind of desperation lacing his actions.

"Yeah?" Hemayal mumbled.

"Well, when I came back here a few days ago, I checked. Both of the files are missing." Ibrahim asked and looked at her expectantly.

"So?" Hemayal asked, confused.

"So, I gave one file to Adam Uncle – Humna's file – but the other one, yours, it was still in my room. It's not here anymore. Somebody must have taken it, gave yours to the kidnappers and that's how you ended up getting kidnapped instead of Humna." Ibrahim said, and breath completely arrested in Hemayal's throat.

"You didn't hand over the file yourself?" Hemayal asked, shock lacing her tone.

"No, I had to go to the hospital to see Ammu. I talked to Anas on phone and asked him to collect the file from my watchman." Ibrahim said, equally confused and horrified.

"How many people saw that file, Ibrahim?" Hemayal asked, horror curling her toes.

"I don't know, anyone in the house. Out of all the people who touched that file, I have no idea whose hands were filled with wrong intention." Ibrahim said, dropping his head in her hands in sheer desperation.

"But who?" Hemayal gasped.

"Someone close...someone who changed the files, someone who leaked the news of my arrest to the media, someone who's sending you these notes, and somone willing to murder for his plans," Ibrahim said, voice turning to a whisper at the end as he mentioned Anas Ali.

"Whoever he is, Hemayal, he's close."

|¤¤¤|

Surprise, surprise!

There are only two chapters left till the end. Can't believe I actually finished this story. At one point, I thought I might never.

What do you think of the chapter?

Till next time,
Salam!