"Send me those report right now. I don't want any delays" Zarim said.

His voice was sharp as he spoke over the phone, pacing across the lawn with long, impatient strides. His brows were drawn together, jaw tight as he listened to whatever excuse was being offered on the other end.

"No. I don't care what the reason is. I need them now."

A pause.

"Then fix it."

He ended the call abruptly and rubbed a hand over his face.

The past few days had been exhausting. Between work, family responsibilities, preparations for the wedding, and a constant stream of phone calls. Every time he crossed one task off his list, three more seemed to appear in its place.

"Zarim."

The soft voice made him look up.

Farha stood a few steps away, dressed elegantly despite being at home. A delicate smile rested on her lips as she held a tray with two cup of tea.

"I thought you could use this."

For a second, Zarim simply looked at her. He wasn't really in the mood of talking or interacting with anybody in the moment. He had five more reports to review before morning. But still he took the cup with a polite "Thank you".

"You're welcome" she said as a smile took over her face.

She took the another cup and sat on the nearby chair with a steaming cup of chai.

For a brief moment, Zarim considered returning inside.

Instead, he sat down across from her out of simple courtesy.

The second he did, he opened his laptop.

The screen illuminated his face as emails flooded his inbox. Within moments, his fingers were moving across the keyboard.

"So I was thinking..." she began

"Maybe we could go out tomorrow?"

Zarim looked up finally only to say,

"No."

Farha blinked.

"Oh."

"I have an important meeting tomorrow."

And just like that, his attention returned to the laptop.

Farha stared at him for a moment. The smile remained on her face. One would believe she wasn't affected by his rejection at all. But then her fingers tightened around the handle of her teacup.

"Of course," she said lightly.

Zarim merely nodded.

His phone rang again as he picked up his things and excused himself, disappearing into the house leaving behind Farha with a graceful smile plastered to her face.

"Goodnight, Zarim."

"Goodnight."

The moment he was gone, her smile faded. Not because she was heartbroken. But being dismissed so casually stung more than she cared to admit.

Especially when she wasn't accustomed to being ignored.

Men had always gravitated towards Farha.

Her beauty, confidence, and carefully crafted charm had a way of drawing attention wherever she went. She was used to being pursued, used to people hanging onto her words, eager for her approval.

Zarim, however, remained frustratingly indifferent. She had been trying to get closer to him since she had arrived.

A small scoff escaped her.

"Unbelievable."

The tea had gone cold by the time she finally stood. She took his untouched tea and dumped it into the nearby plant.

Then stepped inside the house, the soft click of her sandal echoing through the quiet hallway.

That was two nights ago. And now Farha had a new plan.

It was early morning, as Zarim, dressed perfectly for the day climbed down the stairs.

"Zarim ruko" Shahna stopped her son.

His eyes drift towards the dining table, where Shahna was sitting with Farha, light breakfast on the table between them.

"Ji ammi" he stepped closer

"Mahine ho gye hai Farha ko yha aaye hue. Usse kahi ghumane le jao" she said

"Ammi.." he was ready with another excuse.

"Kuch ammi nhi! Shaam ko ghar jaldi ana or isse dinner pr lekar jana" she ordered.

"Ji" and with that he left after wishing salam.

It was six in the evening now as Farha paced on the porch. She was dressed for the outing as planned in her overly expensive suit. But there were no sign of Zarim yet.

She had texted him ten messages by now, all unanswered.

Farha checked her phone again.

Nothing.

Her jaw tightened.

Farha slipped her phone into her clutch and resumed pacing.

Time passed as the clock neared seven, her irritation was rapidly transforming into humiliation.

"How dare he?" she thought

She inhaled sharply before forcing herself to calm down.

No.

She wasn't going to stand here looking desperate.

Lifting her chin, she walked back inside.

The moment she entered the drawing room, Shahna looked up from her tea.

"Uska phone aya tha?" she asked

Farha smiled.

"Ji nhi aunty."

"Bas thori dair mein ajayega." she tried to reassure her

"I'm sure." Her voice was pleasant. Not a single hint of annoyance.

But beneath the table, her nails dug into her palm.

Eight o'clock came.

Then nine.

Dinner sat untouched.

By half past nine, even Shahna looked irritated.

"Yeh larka bhi na..." she muttered.

Farha only smiled.

"It's alright."

It wasn't. But she wasn't about to admit that.

At exactly eleven o'clock, headlights appeared outside once again.

It was Zarim. The front door opened. He stepped inside still wearing the same suit from the morning, tie loosened, phone pressed to his ear.

"Yes. Send me the revised figures before midnight."

A pause.

"No, I don't care how."

Another pause.

"Figure it out."

The call ended.

Only then did he look up.

The entire family was staring at him.

Shahna looked furious.

Farha sat silently on the sofa, still dressed for dinner.

Zarim froze. For the first time all day, genuine confusion crossed his face.

Then realization hit.

His expression shifted. He had forgotten.

Completely.

"Oh."

The single word escaped him before he could stop it.

Shahna immediately stood.

"Oh?"

she repeated.

"Ye shaam se tumhara intezar kr rhi thi or tum ab aaye ho Zarim?"

"Ammi..."

"Main ne subah kya kaha tha?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

The words were directed at Farha. She looked up at him. Under normal circumstances, that would've softened her irritation.

Tonight it did nothing.

Because apologies did little to erase five hours of waiting.

"It's alright," she replied. "We can go another day." she added.

She offered Shahna a smile.

"Goodnight, aunty."

Then she turned and headed upstairs.

The sound of her footsteps faded.

A heavy silence settled over the drawing room.

Shahna shook her head.

"I don't know what to do with you anymore."

"Ammi..."

"Nahi."

She stood.

"Tumhari shaadi ek hafte baad hai."

"I know."

"Do you?"

Her voice softened.

"Because right now it doesn't seem like it."

Without waiting for a response, she walked away.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

It was late at night and almost everybody was asleep. The house stood wrapped in silence.

Then....A black bag came flying over the boundary wall.

It landed in the flowerbeds with a muffled thud.

A few seconds later, a pair of hands appeared on top of the wall.

The figure hauled himself up and swung one leg over before dropping down into the lawn.

His face was hidden beneath the hood of a sweatshirt.

The moment his shoes touched the ground, he crouched instinctively and looked around for threats.

A grin spread across his face when he noticed nobody.

He grabbed his bag and began sneaking across the lawn.

Unfortunately, the universe wasn't interested in making things easy for him.

The porch light suddenly switched on.

The boy froze.

The back door opened.

Zarim stepped outside, after what happened today sleep had become impossible.

The wedding was only days away, yet the anticipation everyone expected from him felt strangely absent.

The entire household revolved around the upcoming wedding.

And then there was him.

Farha was a good woman.

Their families get along.

Everything made sense.

She was perfect for him on the paper in every way.

Then why did her tear-filled eyes from that night flash through his mind?

Before he could dwell on the thought any longer, movement near the boundary wall caught his attention.

His eyes narrowed immediately.

The figure was crawling on the ground as if he would somehow blend into the dark.

What kind of thief crawled across a lawn?

The intruder dragged a large duffel bag behind him and paused every few feet to glance around suspiciously.

It would've been concerning if it wasn't so utterly ridiculous.

Slowly, Zarim stepped off the porch.

The figure remained oblivious.

One step.

Two.

Three.

By the time Zarim was standing only a few feet behind him, the intruder was still busy attempting what could generously be described as stealth.

" Arsalan Ilias Pasha wahi ruk jao"

The figure froze.

For a solid three seconds, he didn't move.

Then, very slowly, he turned his head.

The hood obscured most of his face.

"....Assalamualaikum?" he offered weakly.

Zarim folded his arms.

"Waalaikumsalaam."

Arsalan winced by the look on Zarim's face.

With the resignation of a boy accepting his fate, he pulled back his hood.

"Before you get angry..." he began

"Arsalan."

"Good news," he continued carefully, "we won the tournament."

"Bad news?"

Arsalan sighed.

"I may have forgotten to tell anyone where I was going."

"You disappeared for three weeks."

"It sounds bad when you say it like that."

"Because it was bad. Tum jante ho chachi ne ro ro kr pura sar ghar pr chardha liya tha"

Arsalan opened his mouth. Closed it again.

His gaze shifted toward the house and genuine panic crossed his face.

"Baba doesn't know I'm back, does he?"

"No."

Relief flooded Arsalan's features.

For approximately two seconds.

Then Zarim added,

"But he will."

The relief vanished instantly.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

He looked toward the boundary wall as if considering whether he had enough time to climb back over it.

Arsalan Pasha was in deep toruble.