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“AAIIRAH”

I don't remember when I drifted off. Only that his arms were around me, and my fingers were still tangled in his, and the rain had become a lullaby

It was the warmth that woke me from deep slumber.

A slow touch soft against my temple, then moving gently down to my cheekbone. Featherlight, like the air itself, had fingers. I smile, eyes still closed. My heart stirs before my body does.

I tilted my face slowly and opened my eyes. He was looking at me with his eyes soft and affectionate.

His gaze is calm, steady, like I'm something he's memorizing in silence. My breath catches in my throat. And suddenly the memory of last night hits me like a quiet wave, his touch, his breath on my skin, the way our silences spoke louder than anything we could've said.

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

Without thinking, I bury my face under the blanket, heart pounding against my ribs. I feel like a child again nervous, giddy, exposed in a way I've never been before. And all because of him.

I hear his laugh deep, low, full of warmth.

"Aairah... dekhen mujhe," he says softly, voice husky from sleep, playful.

I don't move.

"Dekhen," he says again, gently tugging at the blanket, and I hold it tighter, too shy to face him, but also smiling underneath, lips curved against the fabric. My cheeks burn more with every second.

"Mujhe se chup kyun rahii hai ap?" he teases, voice closer now.

I peek out just a little.

His face is right there, inches away, and his eyes are softer than I've ever seen them. Not intense like before, but full. Full of something I don't have words for.

"Nahi- mein wou-" I whisper.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of wet hair still stuck near my temple. "chup kyun rahi hain ap begum?"

The word makes my heart flutter in a new way. It sounds different now. Real. Claimed. Precious.

I blink slowly, my voice barely above a breath. "Mujhe Sharam aa rahi hai..."

He smiles, not wide, just with his eyes. "Acha Toh phir, main bhi chhup jaaun?" He starts to turn his face away dramatically, and I laugh softly, reaching out instinctively and holding his wrist.

"Nahi Hayaa "His eyes meet mine again. Neither of us speaks for a moment.

He leans in slowly, his forehead resting softly against mine, our breaths mingling in the silence. I close my eyes, feeling his nearness settle something deep in me.

Then, he kisses my forehead slowly, lingering. "I have to go," he says, his voice low, almost reluctant. "There's a meeting this morning."

I nod, heart still fluttering, until it hits me, My eyes widened.

The meeting with Layla. He's meeting her today.

I sit up instantly, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. My heart starts to race as I grab his hand, not caring how sudden it seems.

"Unn... Hayaan, mein... kuch batana chahti hoon aapko," I start, stumbling over my words. "Woh... par mein bolna chahti thi lekin sahi waqt hi nahi mila. Woh writer jo hai actually, the writer..."

My words are falling all over themselves. My throat is dry, voice unsure, nervous.

"She was—main—"

He steps closer and cups my face gently, calming me instantly with just that touch.

"Aairah," he says softly, looking into my eyes, "main us writer ke baare mein soch bhi nahi raha."

My breath catches.

"It was a mistake. And I feel guilty. Meri wajah se aap bhi itni pareshan ho gayi. It's just a deal." His thumb strokes my cheek. "Aur agar aapko pareshani hai... toh main woh deal cancel kar doon?"

I'm speechless.

He's reading my hesitation, my nerves, and all he sees is worry he doesn't know I am the writer.

I shake my head immediately. "Nahin, Hayaan... main insecure ya pareshan nahi hoon. Baat kuch aur hai." His eyes hold mine, waiting patiently. I take a breath to finally tell him the truth.

But then his phone rings, I roll my eyes as the moment slips.

He glances at the screen and sighs. "Begum... mujhe late ho raha hai. Agar kuch bohot important nahi hai... toh... main jaaun?"

I open my mouth... but nothing comes out. My chest feels heavy, my tongue frozen. I just nod.

He smiles gently. "Apna khayal rakhiyega. Nashta mein upar bhijwa doonga."

Then, with a tenderness that makes my heart ache, he leans in and kisses my cheekbone. My eyes flutter closed at the touch.

He steps back. And left I couldn't tell him.

The door clicks shut behind him.

I sit frozen, his kiss still warm on my cheek, my heart thudding like a warning I can't understand. And then it hits me again he's meeting her. Layla.

Me.

I leap out of bed in a rush, my foot catching on the edge of the blanket. Before I can balance myself, I stumble forward and crash onto the floor with a dull thud.

"Aah-ya Allah..." I whisper, clutching my forehead. A sharp sting blooms across the side of my head. I press my fingers there, wincing.

The pain pulses, but I don't stop.

There's no time.

I push myself up, ignoring the ache, my limbs trembling as I steady myself and rush toward the washroom.

Every second feels like it's slipping through my hands.

I have to tell him.

Before this lie becomes something permanent. Before someone else gives him the truth I couldn't find the courage to say.

My heart races, fingers shaking as I reach for the doorknob, my mind already planning what I'll wear, what I'll say, how I'll find him.

Today... today I will tell him I'm Layla.

“HAYAAN”

The boardroom was filled with murmurs, clinks of tea cups, soft shuffling of papers. I sat at the head of the table, waiting for the meeting to begin, but the girl didn't come yet.

"Layla mam requested an urgent, in-person discussion about the collaboration. No pictures. No prior meetings. Everything had been handled through email or phone. Until today." Her secretary informed us.

And then she walked in.

Draped in a deep red abaya, her face covered in a niqab, only her eyes visible. Confident, composed. A scent followed her as she stepped inside a soft, familiar trail that stirred something deep in my chest.

"Ap late hai mohtarma" I said to her, she didn't raised her head, and looked at her assistant and give her a nod to respond. I frowned.

"Actually mam ka gala kharab hai so she can't speak" She told me I got suspicious

but then nodded, I gestured to her to sit.

She looked at me once for a second the immediately removed her eyes.

My heart skipped.

No.

It couldn't be.

I tried not to stare. I tried to focus on the presentation, the numbers, and the goals. But I kept looking back at those eyes. The way they blinked slowly when she was thinking. The way they narrowed slightly when she disagreed.

Just like Aairah.

My Aairah.

And then the way she sat... the tilt of her head... the faint trace of jasmine... it all felt like her.

I looked away, ashamed of what I was thinking.

I tried to focus on the meeting. On the paper. On the words. But my eyes kept betraying me.

Going back to her.

Her fingers tapped the edge of the notebook once. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her breathing quickened when I leaned forward to address her.

Just like her.

But how could it be?

I forced myself to look away, heart thudding painfully in my chest, ashamed of where my mind was going. She's someone else, Hayaan. Focus.

But no matter how much I told myself that... deep down, something refused to believe it.

The meeting felt like a blur. Words floated past. The room slowly emptied. Laughter, chairs scraping, doors closing.

And then it was just the two of us.

She stood up, composed, businesslike. "It was great meeting you, Mr. Sikandar," she said finally voice soft and professional. She extended her hand for a handshake.

But then her eyes widened, I stared at her deeply and glanced at her hand.

She was about to take her hand back but I placed mine in hers slowly.

Warm. familiar my fingers curled around hers instinctively.

And everything inside me paused. My breath. My thoughts. My heartbeat.

This touch.

It was the same one that had held my collar when she was nervous. That had lingered on my wrist when she didn't want me to leave. That had touched my face like I was something fragile, something trusted.

I didn't let go. I was sure now she is Aairah

I pulled her closer. Just a little. Just enough.

She gasped.

"Aap kya kar rahe hain, sir? Yeh... yeh badtameezi hai," she said, voice shaking, eyes darting to the door.

And for the first time, she couldn't hold my gaze.

She turned her face slightly Avoiding me.

"Aur aap kya kar rahi hain, madam?" I asked, voice low and still. I stepped closer, watching her try to hold her breath, trying not to show the panic in her eyes.

"Kya maqsad?" Her hands trembled, but she didn't pull away.

Then I said what I knew in my soul. "Maqdad yeh Mrs Aairah Hayaan Sikandars Aapko kya laga, ke main aapko nahi pehchan sakunga?"

My entire body stilled. Her breath caught. She turned slowly. Eyes wide.

"Hayaan..." she whispered my name like it wasn't meant to be heard.

I reached up, hand shaking just slightly, and slowly removed her niqab from her face.

And there she was.

My Aairah.

Her lashes trembled. Her eyes shimmered. Her lips parted slightly caught between apology and fear. And she still couldn't look me in the eyes for more than a second.

My chest ached.

"Hayaan, aapne kaise...?" I smiled faintly, brushing a lock of her hair back from her cheek.

"Begum... aapko kya laga ke sirf chehra dhakne se main aapko nahi pehchan sakta? Agar aapne yeh poori aankhen bhi chhupa li hoti na... toh bhi main aapko pehchan leta. Aapke ehsaas se. Aapke khamoshi se. Aapke saans se."

Her lip quivered, and suddenly she stepped into me, arms wrapping around my abdomen, hiding her face there like she used to.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice muffled against me. "Main apko batana chahti thi yahi par dar gayi thi. I wanted to tell you... so many times... but I just- I couldn't..."

I held her tightly, resting my cheek against the top of her head. "Aap Layla hain? The writer? Yeh sab... aapka?"

She nodded against my chest. "Meri company... meri likhai... Sab kuch. Mahira jaanti thi. aur Ami abhi bhi Par main... main aapse nahi keh pai. Main sochti rahi... har roz..."

I pulled her back gently, cupped her face. Her cheeks were warm beneath my palms, her eyes glassy. I stared at her, my heart full.

Pride. Amazement. Love.

"Aairah apko bura maan ne ki koi Zaroorat nahi hai Mujhe aap par fakhar hai," I whispered, brushing my thumb gently across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed.

And that's when I saw it. A red mark near her temple. My smile faded. I touched it carefully and panicked when she hissed .

"Yeh kya hua?"

She blinked and touched it instinctively. "Kuch nahi... subah gir gayi thi. Jaldi thi." she tried to laugh lightly, brushing it off.

I touched her hair, pressing a kiss gently to her forehead. "Aapko chot lage aur aap ne mujhe bataya bhi nahi?"

"Hayaan choti se chot hai gehri nai hai" she tried to justify shaking her head, but I didn't like it. I was concerned My thumb rubbed on her red mark.

"Dard nai hai Hayaan, ap fikar mat karen" She rested her hand over mine. A faint smile passed between us, I leaned down and kissed her would gently

I exhaled and touched her cheek again, lingering. "Waise I am finally relieved that it was you, mujhe aise thoughts apke liye he aye thay Maine apko he admire kiya"

"Aut agar wou ladki mein na hoti tou?" She questioned curiosity filled in her eyes, she bite her lower lip in anticipation, I smiled gently held her hand, before kissing her palm.

"Tou mujhe aisa kuch nai feel hota, mujhe feel hua kyunki wou ap thin Aairah" I whispered assuring her, with my hand holding her cheek, she smiled shyly, encircled her arms around me rested her head on my heart.

"Chalein ghar?" I softly asked her, she lifted Her eyes and met mine now. Brave. Honest. Herself.

"Chalein." she whispered, clasping my hand.

“NOOR”

It had been two weeks since that call.

Two long, dragging weeks where I tried to tuck away the fear at the back of my mind, pretending it was nothing a prank, a mistake, a cruel joke from someone with too much time.

Zeeshan had said not to worry. That it was probably a sick person messing around.

And I believed him.

I had to believe him, Because anything else was too terrifying to imagine.

Still... sometimes, when the house grew quiet, and I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I could hear the echo of that voice again l venomous, threatening, twisted.

But it never came again.

No call. No message.

So, slowly... I let myself breathe again, May be he was right it must be a prank call.

Today had been a joyful one of those days you mentally bookmark as "good."

My college coronation ceremony. Laughter. Pictures. Friends. Hugs. And Zeeshan giving me flowers while in front of the whole college, made me blush like a crazy person and laugh at the same time.

He is cute though.

Then Zeeshan had dropped me home with a soft "I will be back there is surprise I am working on it," and a wink and a sweet kiss on my cheek he left that still fluttered in my heart.

He didn't say where he was going.

And I didn't ask.

I wanted to. But I didn't want to sound nosy. Overbearing. I was trying to be the kind of wife who trusted in silence too and he was putting effort for me.

So, I smiled. I waved him off.

The house felt unusually warm when I stepped in like something good was in the air. The smell hit me first. Buttery. Sweet. Something baking, maybe?

Then the giggles.

Soft, feminine laughter from the kitchen. A sound that felt like childhood and home.

I walked toward it, curiosity tugging at my heels, and peeked in.

Hayaan bhai was in front of the stove, apron slightly crooked, stirring something with a concentration that made me want to laugh. Aairah bhabhi was sitting nearby, her cat curled in her lap, snuggling into her neck while she giggled like a schoolgirl.

"Hayaan dekhein, yeh kaise chipak gayi hai mujhe! I think she finally likes me!"

Aairah bhabhi's face was bright with delight.

"Kuch zyada hi chipak rahi hai," Bhai muttered, clearly referring to both cat and wife.

I had to cover my mouth to stop from laughing. But I must've made a sound because they turned and looked at me.

"Aray Noor! Tum kab aayi?" Bhabhi asked with a playful grin, gently placing the cat down.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Tabhi jab bhai jealous ho rahe the." Aairah bhabhi burst out laughing.

"Main jealous nahi ho raha tha," Hayaan bhai protested, flustered, "bas... keh raha tha."

I chuckled and excused myself, their banter faded behind me as I walked to my room. My heart was light. Warm. It felt like one of those rare peaceful evenings where everything was just... right.

Until it wasn't.

I flopped on my bed, pulled out my phone, and instinctively opened WhatsApp. I was about to message Zeeshan. Call him something silly. Ask him when he'd be home.

Then I saw it.

A message from an unknown number.

My heartbeat skipped, I sat up instantly and then I saw a voice note.

With trembling fingers, I clicked it. What played on my screen... snatched the breath from my lungs.

Zeeshan.

Tied to a chair, blood trickling from his forehead.

Bruises on his face. His eyes barely open, but still searching. Still fighting.

And then the voice.

"Agar apne shohar ko bachana chahti ho... toh is addressed pe pohocho. Aur khabardaar jo kisi ko bataya. Warna... yeh jaan se jaayega."

I dropped the phone. My knees buckled. I clutched the bedpost to stay upright.

"Zeeshan..." I whispered, as tears clouded my vision.

My hands trembled violently. My breaths came in short, uneven gasps.

No. This couldn't be real. Not him. Not my Zeeshan.

But it was. It was.

And I was wasting time.

I grabbed my phone and ran straight out the room, out the corridor, barely noticing the sting of the air hitting my face.

And then I crashed hard into Sufiyaan bhai. He held my shoulders, trying to steady me.

"Noor?! Dhyhaan se! Kya hua, sab khairiyat?"

I blinked up at him, shaking, wanting to tell him everything, but the words refused to come out.

"Jee... sab sahi hai..." I lied.

But my face betrayed me. "Nahi kuch tou hai tum aise ghabrayi kyun ho" He inquired again his gaze lingered on me suspiciously, He glanced down. My phone clenched tightly in my hand, shaking.

He snatched it from my grip before I could stop him. "Ap yeh kya karahe hai bhai"

But he played the message, ignoring me, I palmed my face, controlling not to burst into tears.

Silence And then he screamed

"Ya Allah Yeh kya hai Noor? Zeshaan aisay kahan hai yeh aur yeh message kab aya" He questioned, vein popped on his forehead, I could feel the terror in his voice.

And I broke.

"Bhai... please... please usse bacha lo... mujhe nahi maloom Woh kahan hai main nahi jee sakti uske bina..."

I choked on the words as he sighed and hugged me tightly, whispering, "Shhh, kuch nahi hoga noor. We'll bring him home. I promise."

Moments later, Aairah and Hala bhabhi appeared, alarmed. They saw my state and without asking a word they enveloped me in their arms.

Holding me. Rocking me.

Trying to anchor me as I shattered.

Then came Hayaan bhai, his eyes dark with something I'd never seen before and this indicated that he already got the information.

"We need to move. Fast." His voice was clipped. Focused Burning, his hand fisted, Aairah bhabhi glanced at him anxiously, He blinked his eyes, she placed her palm on his arm, he took a breath relaxing a little.

"Don't worry, Noor we will get him back," he added, placing a hand on my head.

"We'll bring him home."

"Chalo bhai," Sufiyaan echoed, already storming toward the door. I wiped my tears, my voice barely a whisper.

"Main bhi chalungi." They paused. Look at me shocked, because they were aware it was risky and I could feel them denying it already.

"Please bhai I can't stay here he is in this situation because of me" I cried, my heart clenched. I can't stay here with all sorts of negative thoughts lingering behind me.

"Noor..." Sufiyaan began.

I raised my hand before he could finish.

"Please bhai... I can't stay here." My voice cracked, but I held on.

"He's in this condition... because of me. If something-" I stopped. Swallowed the words choking my throat.

"I just can't sit here and imagine the worst. I need to be there."

Tears clung to my lashes. I didn't wipe them this time.

Hala bhabhi looked at me, then at Sufiyaan.

Hala, quiet until now, stepped forward and gently took my hand.

"She's right," she said softly.

"If I were her, I wouldn't stay behind either." She said Sufiyan give her a look she shrugged

Sufiyaan's fierce expression cracked just a little. He sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair, then nodded with tight reluctance.

"Fine. You'll stay in the car, understood? No arguments when we say move back." I nodded like my life depended on it.

We didn't tell Mama and Baba.

"Unhein tension hogi," Hayaan bhai said before we left.

The road to the site felt longer than any journey I'd ever taken. Silence filled the car, the kind that screams louder than any noise.

When we reached the place, an abandoned construction site, half-eaten by time and shadows we parked a distance away. It looked like a place where bad things happened and were never spoken of again.

Sufiyaan bhai and Hayaan bhai got out first. Hayaan bhai reached under his seat, pulling out a small pistol from a hidden compartment. It was registered. I remembered him once telling Baba about it.

As he checked the safety and loaded it, Aairah bhabhi clutched his arm. "Hayaan... please, apna khayal rakhiyega."

He paused, turned to her, and gently placed his palm on her cheek, something so soft amid everything hard around us.

"Aap fikar na karein. Sab theek hoga. Dua kijiyega."

She nodded, biting her lip to hold back tears. Then came the moment I'd been dreading.

"Noor, tum ab yahin rukogi." Sufiyaan bhai's voice was firm again. But I shook my head, eyes blazing through tears.

"Main usse aise halat mein chhod nahi sakti."

"It's not safe Noor Apne kaha tha ap car me he rahengi" Hayaan bhai reminded me.

"I stepped forward. "Main bas... dekhna chahti hoon ke woh theek hai. Please bhai... just let me see him please ."

Sufiyaan bhai looked at me, and then at Hayaan bhai who shook his head but Sufiyaan somehow was agreeing between fear and trust.

He finally exhaled. "Sirf ek baar. And you stay behind us. One wrong move, and you go back to the car."

"This is not safe, I can't allow this" Hayaan bhai chi let out sternly.

"Bhai she will be safe with you two aur woh Gahan tou pagal hojayegi, agar ap uski jagah hotel tou" Hala bhabhi pointed out logically taking my side.

"Fine, but stay behind us.

I nodded. My heart was already halfway inside that broken building.

“AUTHOR”

As Hayaan checked his weapon one last time and looked toward the shadows ahead, Aairah suddenly stepped forward.

Her voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed the storm within.

"Main bhi chalungi..."

Hayaan turned sharply. His brows knit in disbelief.

"No." His answer came quick, sharp, absolute.

Aairah blinked, taken aback.

"Hayaan, I just—"

"Aairah," he cut her off, his voice quieter now but firmer, almost grave. He stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers.

"Aapki safety mere liye sabse zyada important hai." He held her gaze a second longer, as if trying to make her feel every word he couldn't say aloud.

"Toh agar aap chahti hain ke main apna khayal rakhun... toh aap yahin rukengi. No following. No arguing. Understood?"

The last line wasn't just for her he looked at Hala too, who was clearly thinking the same and gave her a look because he had an idea she could do that.

Aairah's lips parted like she might protest again, but she caught the look in his eyes, a rare one. It wasn't anger, it was fear. Silent pleading, masked under stern protection.

She swallowed her words and nodded.

"Theek hai," she whispered. "Par ap ziada Ladayi mat kariye ga guards ko karne dene" She said to him innocently, He chuckled softly and gently touched her cheek, eyes softening just for a moment.

-

The stench of rust, gasoline, and stale blood lingered in the air like poisonCracked beams stood crooked, iron rods jutting from the floor like bones.

Each step echoed as Hayaan and Sufiyaan led the way, guns drawn, bodies tense, eyes sharp, their guards taking care of the men outside.

Noor followed, her breath hitching, palms cold.

The fear in her chest was louder than her footsteps.

Then

A low groan She looked up and froze.

Zeeshan.

Tied to a chair, head slumped forward, blood dried at the side of his forehead, A cut at his lip. Bruises on his jaw, Wrists raw from ropes.

"Zeeshan!"

She ran before anyone could stop her.

Sufiyaan called after her, "Noor, ruk jao don't go there-!" but her knees hit the ground beside him.

"Zeeshan Main aa gayi hoon... main yahin hoon mujhe dekho idhar-" Her trembling hands cupped his face.Zeeshan blinked slowly, A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Tum... sach mein ho?" She nodded through her tears. "Sab theek ho jayega... main hoon na..." As her hands moved to untie the rope recklessly.

A shadow lunged above them.

"NOOR, GET DOWN!" Sufiyaan's voice exploded through the air.

From the dark came Zahab eyes red with madness, swinging a thick iron rod, But he didn't reach her.

Because Hayaan hit him like a storm. He tackled Zahab hard, slamming him into a concrete pillar.

The rod clattered to the floor. Zahab growled like a wounded animal and fought back but Sufiyaan was already there.

A punch to Zahab's ribs. Then Hayaan's elbow smashed across Zahab's jaw. Zahab staggered, spitting blood.

"TU NE MERE BHAI KO HAATH LAGAYA?!" Hayaan roared. He grabbed Zahab by the collar and kneed him viciously in the gut.

Zahab swung blindly, grazing Sufiyaan's shoulder but Sufiyaan caught him and delivered a brutal right hook, followed by a strike to the side of his neck.

Blow for blow. Bruise for bruise. Zahab screamed. But it didn't stop. Every wound he gave Zeeshan...

He felt it now.

Double.

Sufiyan grabbed the rod Zahab dropped and slammed it to the ground near his face.

"ZEESHAN KO MARA NA- "Sufiyaan scream, grabbing collar, yanking him backward and landing a solid punch across his jaw.

Zahab kicked out, hitting Sufiyaan's side, but Sufiyaan gritted his teeth, seized him by the throat, and slammed him into the concrete wall.

"NOOR MERI THI! Tumhare bhai ne cheen liya isko" he screamed, spitting blood.

"Wo teri KABHI nahi thi, Meri hai Noor sirf meri" Zeeshan yelled taking that rod throwing on his face, Finally, Zahab collapsed, broken, panting, and defeated.

Zeeshan watched him, barely opening his eyes.Blood blurred his vision, but the sight of his brothers standing like warriors burned clear. And somehow, through the pain, he smiled.

Weak. But proud.

He had known they'd come.

They always did.

-

It had only been a little while since everyone returned home. Zeeshan had been tidied and was resting on the couch, while Noor sat protectively beside him, as if even the air touching him would be too harsh.

But peace never lasted long in a house full of love.

The soft murmur of footsteps down the hall signaled a shift Mama and Baba entered, their expressions clouded with confusion, concern, and something much heavier.

"Zeeshan!" Shahveer's voice cracked sharply, cutting through the quiet.

Everyone froze.

"Tum sab kahaan gaye thay?! Kya hua ? Yeh sab... injuries?! Aur kisi ne humse ek lafz nahi kaha?!"

Yasmeen's hand flew to her mouth, horror and emotion flooding her face as her eyes landed on Zeeshan's bruises...and Noor's tear-stained cheeks then at Sufiyaan's and Hayaan's face.

"Yeh kisne kiya tumhare saath?" she asked in a choked whisper, already stepping forward.

"yeh sab hua kaise?"

The room stiffened all over again.

Sufiyaan cleared his throat, looking suddenly very unsure of himself.

"Woh... actually Baba... hum... bas... you know..."

He scratched the back of his neck like a schoolboy caught cheating. Hayaan shot him a sharp side glance, one brow raised. Don't even think about it.

But Sufiyaan still blurted, "Bas chhoti si misunderstanding thi... thoda sa fight ho gaya tha... apas mein..."

Noor blinked. Zeeshan turned slowly toward him. Even Hala smirked under her breath, and Aairah frowned.

Baba's brows climbed higher. "Chhoti is a misunderstanding?" he repeated.

"Woh misunderstanding tumhare chehre pe likhi hui hai, Sufiyaan."

He turned to Hayaan. "Aur tumhare haathon ka kya? Zeeshan ki halat? Yeh sab apas mein pillow fight mein hua tha kya?"

Hayaan exhaled deeply and gave up. His arms crossed over his chest as he gave Sufiyaan the deadliest glare he could muster.

But then, Baba's expression shifted... just slightly. A glimmer of dry amusement cracked beneath the storm of his worry.

"Bhane banane ki Zaroorat nahi hai mujhe sab maloom hai kaise hua.

The entire room fell into stillness.

"Security team ne mujhe inform kar diya tha jab tum log bina bataye nikle. Unhone exact location bheji thi... woh purani construction site."

His eyes swept across them all, still sharp.

"Pagal thay tumlog aise maar peer karke aaye ho agar khuda na khasta kuch hojata tou." His tone was sharp but there was worry hidden for his family, his face solemn.

Sufiyaan opened his mouth and closed it again. Hayaan stared at the carpet like it had all the answers in the world.

Sufiyaan stood first, his voice calm but firm. "Baba, please. Sab kuch control mein hai. Zeeshan ko kidnap kiya gaya tha lekin ab woh theek hai. Hum sab milke wapas le aaye hain use."

Baba's eyes narrowed. "Security? Police? Tumne kisi ko involve nahi kiya? Tum sab pagal ho gaye ho kya?!"

Mama began crying softly now, clutching her dupatta in one hand as her other moved protectively toward Zeeshan's forehead.

Hayaan stepped beside Sufiyaan. "Baba, agar hum wait karte... toh shayad Zeeshan ko wapas na laa pate. Humein intuition pe chalna pada."

"Intuition?!" Baba echoed, his voice rising again

.

"Zindagi bhar ki mehnat se sab kuch banaya hai humne, aur tum log bina kisi protection ke jaake kisi gang se takra gaye?! Samajhte ho iska kya matlab ho sakta tha?!"

"Baba..." Sufiyaan said again, softer this time, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Humari niyat sirf apne bhai ko bachaane ki thi. Galti ho gayi, lekin dil se ki thi. Aur Zeeshan... wapas aa gaya hai au hum sab sahii hain."

A long silence settled over the room.

Baba looked around at the bruises, the blood, the guilt shadowing their tired eyes. His breath hitched as he looked at Zeeshan pale but safe, Noor holding his hand like she would never let go again.

His voice broke quietly.

"Aage se... aise kisi bhi step se pehle... Mujse baat karna samemjhe." Then he looked directly at Zeeshan.

"Rest karo"

Mama stepped in, gently brushing Zeeshan's forehead.

"Sab theek hai ab... tumhare baba sirf pareshan hai unko gusse se he sab karna hota hain." Zeeshan nodded slightly, squeezing Noor's hand tighter, grounding himself through her.

Then suddenly she stood straight and turned to Baba.

"Mujhe paise deejiye."He didn't question her just pulled out his wallet, handed it over without a word.

Making her troll his eyes and Mama took the notes and stepped to the center of the room. One by one, she circled them in the air around her sons' heads, whispering under her breath.

"Pata nahi kiski buri nazar lag gayi hai mere bacho ko... har waqt kisi ko chot lagti hai, koi pareshaan hota hai, koi chupke ro deta hai... Bas, ab aur nahi."

She started with Zeeshan, then Sufiyaan who rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt then Hayaan, who lowered his gaze with a fond smile.

Lastly, Mama turned to Noor, Hala, and Aairah, giving them each a proud, motherly look.

"Aur tum teenon ne jo himmat dikhayi hai na... mere ka dil jeet liya. Allah tumhare rishton ko nazar se bachaye."

Noor stepped forward to hold her hand, quietly moved, and the Aairah side hugged her.

Mama wiped a final tear and handed the money to a nearby staff member for sadaqah.

The house was finally calm. Breathed in Healed almost but stronger than before.

“SUFIYAAN”

I winced hard as I pulled my shirt over my head, muttering curses under my breath. The fabric brushed over my shoulder blade and fire shot down my side.

"Ouch Hala, thoda aaram se yaar!" I yelped, jerking slightly as she dabbed antiseptic on what felt like a chunk of my soul, not just a wound.

But did she pause? Of course not. She just pressed harder.

"Haan haan, jab ladne jaa rahe the tab toh hero ban rahe the..." she said, voice sharp like the sting of Dettol, "ab thoda sa dard horaha hai toh rona shuru."

"Main ro nahi raha hoon!" I shot back, wincing as she leaned in even closer with the cotton swab.

"Bas keh raha hoon itna bhi-AHH! Hala, please!"

She glared at me like a nurse who'd been forced into overtime. "Chup chaap baithe raho. Warna aur lagaungi. Aur yeh wala alcohol wala hai."

Great, I thought. My loving wife is a full-blown sadist.

She blew on the wound like it was a birthday candle, with exaggerated flair, then slapped a bandage on like she was sealing a shipping carton.

I gave her my best wounded-puppy look. "Tum doctor ho ya jailor?"

She tilted her head, completely unfazed. "Main tumhari biwi hoon. Dono ka combo pack."

Of course she was.

Still, despite the throbbing pain, I chuckled and reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could escape. She froze just slightly.

"Biwi ho toh thoda pyaar se bhi toh treat karo na," I said, putting on the tragic hero voice, "kitni chotien aayi hain mujhe... emotionally bhi."

She gave me that look the one where one eyebrow arches, and her mouth twitches like she's trying not to laugh.

"Chotien khud li hain. Emotional trauma ka drama mat karo."

Damn. She knew me too well.

Still, her hand slowed as she ran her fingers gently across my shoulder, tracing the bruises with feather-light care. Her teasing quieted. For a moment, we just sat in silence, her fingers searching, eyes scanning.

Then came her whisper. "You really scared me today... agar tumhe kuch ho jaata toh..."

That hit somewhere deeper than any bruise.

I pulled her into my lap in one motion not caring about the pain that flared up as she landed against my ribs. Her arms went around my neck before she could protest.

"Main kahin nahi jaa raha," I said into her hair.

"Jab tak tumhara sarcasm sunta rahun, zinda rahunga."

She let out a wet laugh and punched my chest lightly. "Tumse romantic baat sunne ke liye mujhe pehle tumhe daantna padta hai."

I smirked, nuzzling the side of her face.

"Aur mujhe tumhara gussa dekhne ke liye thoda drama karna padta hai."

We both laughed quietly, tired, a little cracked from everything that had happened. But in that laughter was something whole. Something safe.

Our foreheads touched. Her breath was warm. Mine finally settled.

"Next time, please take care," she whispered.

"Next time tum saath chalna. Mujhe shield ki zarurat hoti hai." She rolled her eyes, but the way her fingers curled around my neck told me she wasn't letting go anytime soon.

Then, just before pulling back, she kissed my forehead.

The house had fallen silent. Everyone else had drifted off tired from the storm that had passed.

But inside him, the noise hadn't stopped.

Zeeshan lay still for a while, eyes on the ceiling, then slowly pushed himself up and sat at the edge of the bed. His shirt hung loosely, half-buttoned, the dried bruises on his chest catching faint moonlight from the window.

He ran a hand over his face. It still didn't feel real how close everything had come to ending. Then, through the dim light, he noticed Noor.

She stood a little distance away on the prayer rug, her dupatta draped softly over her head, whispering the last words of her shukrana namaz.

Her hands raised, palms open in quiet dua and he knew without needing to hear it that she was praying for him. For him to be safe. For him to never go missing again.

Her forehead touched the ground one last time, and then she folded the prayer mat gently, not in a rush as if every move had meaning. She walked toward him without a sound, carrying something in her palms.

She sat beside him on the bed, leaned in, and softly blew over him warm, familiar, like a shield.

He heard her murmuring: "Allahu la ilaha illa Huwa..." Ayatul Kursi.

She circled her hand once over his head and chest, and he closed his eyes letting it settle over his skin like armor.

Then she smiled faintly, and sat back.

"Tum soye nahi ab tak?" she asked gently, her fingers brushing over his. Zeeshan looked at her for a long second... and something inside him cracked.

"Sochta hoon agar tum wahan naa pohchti... toh shayad main..."

His voice broke before the words did. Noor immediately leaned in, cupping his face with both hands. Her eyes shone, steady and kind.

"Shhh... mat socho aise. tumhe kuch nai hua na he hota mein warna kaise rehti tumhare bagair, Zeeshan Tum theek se ho, bas wahi kaafi hai."

He didn't say anything just pulled her to him, hugging her tightly like his life depended on it. And maybe it did.

They sat like that for a long time. Her breath against his neck, his arms curled around her like a shell. The quiet between them didn't feel empty it felt like healing.

But guilt gnawed at him.

"Noor," he said after a pause, his voice low, tired, raw.

"Mujhe maaf kar do... mujhe uss call pe dhyan dena chahiye tha. Mujhe laga ek choti sa prank hoga main samajh hi nahi paaya ke..."He trailed off, fists tightening in frustration.

"Main careless tha. Agar main alert hota toh tum sabko wahan laane ki zarurat nahi padti... tum logon ki jaan khatre mein daali maine." Noor looked up at him, about to speak, but he wasn't done yet.

"Aur tumhe pata hai sabse bura kya laga?" He exhaled sharply, gaze dropping.

"Main... main tumhare liye surprise plan kar raha tha, Noor." She blinked.

"Ek trip... tumhare favorite beach wale cottage mein. Maine sab arrange kiya tha. Tickets, room... even tumhara's favorite candle scent..."

He gave a weak, bitter laugh.

"Aur kya mila? Main khud hi gum ho gaya." His jaw clenched and he looked away, the regret sitting heavy on his shoulders.

"Main sirf tumhe khush dekhna chahta tha... aur tum ro rahi thi wahan." Noor reached up quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck again and pulling him into a firm, grounding hug.

"Tumhe bhii nai maloom tha kya hone wala hai aur mein khush hoon kyunki Tum yahan ho mere saath," she whispered in his ear, her voice soft and full of truth.

"Mujhe aur koi surprise nahi chahiye, Aur plan ka kya hai woh phirse banlenge ." Zeeshan closed his eyes. Everything inside him stilled.

No big gestures. No plans. Just her.Her warmth, her breath, her forgiveness. That was enough. He kissed her temple slowly, reverently.

"Tumse zyada kuch nahi chahiye mujhe, Noor."

She smiled, wiping the corner of his eye gently with her thumb, and then nestled into his side. He leaned back against the pillows, pulling her with him, her head resting over his heart, exactly where she belonged.

His fingers found hers, their hands tangled together, And for the first time since that nightmare began... he finally slept.

“HAYAAN”

The room was quiet, that heavy kind of quiet that settles after a storm.

I sat at the edge of the bed, shirt half-off, ribs aching, shoulder stiff. Every breath reminded me of the blows I took... and of the fact that I made it back. Barely.

But somehow, the physical pain didn't weigh on me as much as the sight in front of me.

Aairah knelt beside me, the first-aid kit open, her brows drawn together as she focused on cleaning the wound along my side. Her hands were shivering , but her lips were pressed tight like she was holding something in.

She hadn't spoken much since we came back. She hadn't scolded me, hadn't cried...juat hold my tight as if I might vanish away and that silence scared me more than anything.

I tried to ease the tension.

"Mujhe laga tha aap mujhe daantengi... itna reckless hone ke liye," I joked, my voice lighter than I felt.

She didn't look up.

Just dipped the cotton in antiseptic again and pressed it gently against the gash.

I winced. Not from the sting but because I saw it.

The single tear sliding down her cheek. That one tear punched harder than any of Zabab's goons..

I couldn't stop myself reaching out, holding her chin, my fingers grazed her skin as I tried to make her look at me.

"Aairah..." I whispered But she pulled away gently with anger, but something far heavier.

Pain.

She dabbed the next wound, her voice barely a whisper. "Dard ho raha hai kya... zyada?"

"kahan? I questioned back looking at her because her tears were hurting me more then these wounds.

"Chot pe Hayaan"

I stared at her, my throat tightening. "Haan," I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.

"Mere dil mein bohat dard ho raha hai. Aapke aansoo dekh kar." That broke her. She looked at me really. And all the worry, the fear, the helplessness that she'd been holding in just shattered into tears.

I didn't care how much my body hurt. I held her hand entwining our hands, pulled her to me instantly, gently resting our foreheads together and our heart synced. My fingers cradled the back of her neck like she was glass.

"Main theek hoon, Aairah," I whispered, my voice uneven.

"Aur jab tak ap mere saath hai bikul theek hoon" I kissed her head. She closed her eyes, shaking her head softly.

"Dubara mat Aise karega, ap ko nai maloom meri kya halat thi- agar apko kuch-" she murmured in her voice. God it was like being hit in the chest with a truth I hadn't wanted to face.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"Janta hoon Ayenda nai hoga aise kuch bhii ," I promised, brushing my thumb along her jaw.

"Aur jab tak apki aur Ami ki duaen hain mere sath tou mujhe kuch kaise hoga." She smiled, through the tears, through the fear, through it all.

And I leaned in, kissed her forehead again slowly, reverently, as if every bruise on my body could be healed with just that one touch of peace.

Then silence.

But this time, it wasn't heavy.

It was safe.

She pulled back gently, wiped her eyes, and picked up the last bandage. As she began wrapping it carefully around my arm, her fingers lingered... not just to heal but to hold.

I watched her in awe. How could someone be this strong and this soft at the same time? That's when I said it, teasing, but not really.

"Yeh marham kaam nahi kar raha..." She looked up, confused.

"Toh main kya karun? Kuch aur le kar aau? Koi tablet?" I held her gaze, letting the moment stretch.

Then, in a voice low enough to shake her stillness, I whispered,

"Aapke hont... mere zakham ka marham ban sakte hain... agar aap chahein toh begum."

She froze. I don't know if it was the words... or the truth in them. I didn't flirt. Not this time. I just meant it.

She looked at me with eyes that suddenly brimmed again not with fear this time, but with something deeper.

And she looked down for a second and then lifted her lashes, and moved closer. She reached for my face with both hands soft, slow, scared like I might break under her fingers. And then...

She kissed me. First on the bruise on my cheek. Then the other. Then the faint edge of my lips so gently I barely felt it.

But I did, I closed my eyes and breathed as her touch grazed my skin.

It didn't just feel good. It felt like being put back together. She leaned back, and whispered shyly.

"Ab?" I looked at her, smiling softly,

"Dard... jaisa tha hi nahi." I wiped the tear that still lingered on her cheek, and she blushed, looking down but I didn't let her go far.

I laughed quietly and pulled her into me, letting her head rest against my chest.

"Ap hain isse zyada marham mujhe kuch aur chahiye hi nahi." She wrapped her arms around me tighter and for the first time since all this madness began

I let myself feel okay.

AUTHOR

One Month Later...

The house had finally returned to its rhythm, a rhythm filled with warmth, teasing voices, and the soft pitter-patter of paws against marble floors.

Sunlight spilled into the lounge, golden and slow, as Hala sat cross-legged on the carpet, giggling softly while playing with their newest family member, a tiny, white kitten who batted at her dupatta with curious little paws.

Just then, Sufiyaan walked in, freshly showered, hair damp, dressed in his usual white kurta calm, smug, and suspiciously well-rested. He dropped down beside her, stealing the kitten from her hands with ease.

She frowned immediately. "Main khel rahi thi usse!"

He arched a brow, smirking while scratching the kitten behind the ears.

"Aur tum iss umar mein bhi billi se khel rahi ho? Bache karne ki age hai, Hala." She gasped dramatically as ever and slapped his arm hard.

"Besharam! Har waqt aisi baatein karte ho!" He winced but laughed, clearly amused by her reaction.

"Tumse hi toh seekh raha hoon... batameez banti jaa rahi ho tum din-ba-din." She narrowed her eyes, lips pressing into a tight line, preparing a sharp retort-

But paused.

"Sufiyaan... tumhare neeche cockroach hai."She said it casually, almost bored.

And the second the words left her mouth Sufiyaan jumped, quite literally yelping as he scrambled to his feet like the floor had turned to lava.

The poor kitten flew from his arms and vanished under the sofa.

"YA ALLAH!" he shouted, nearly tripping over the carpet.

Hala blinked at him, stunned... then burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter clutching her stomach as she half-fell to the side.

"Sufiyaan Rude Sikandar, CEO of a multi-million company... ek cockroach se darr gaya? Kya baat hai!" She clapped her hands with joy, laughing until tears formed in her eyes.

He glared at her while brushing off his kurta dramatically.

"Tum bhi toh chipkali se roti ho, roz!"

"Haan, par aise nahi!" she mumbled, handing over her mouth, still giggling.

And then... silence.

Both turned.

"Billi kahan gayi?"

The kitten had vanished.

"Tumhare wajah se bhaag gayi!"

"Nahi, tumhare cheekhne ki wajah se!"

And just like that the hunt began.

Sufiyaan and Hala ran from room to room, lifting cushions, bending under tables, pointing fingers, and occasionally swatting each other's heads in frustration.

That's when Zeeshan and Noor entered the lounge, both holding mugs, only to freeze at the chaotic scene.

"Yeh kya ho raha hai yahan?" Noor asked, eyes scanning the disaster, a cushion on the floor, Hala halfway under a chair, Sufiyaan glaring at a curtain.

"Billi kho gayi hai," Hala reported. Zeeshan sighed and shook his head.

"Billi koi bachi thodi hai jo bulaoge aur aa jayegi. Jhukna padta hai, dekhna padta hai seekho mujhse." He bent down, tapping the floor.

"Aao, baby... aajao..."

Silence. Noor folded her arms, raising a brow.

"Haan? Kya hua? Seekhaao na." Zeeshan shot her a look.

"Kuch der lagti hai, Noor."

"Haan haan, CEO of cat psychology," Sufiyan muttered.

Meanwhile, the kitten peeking out from under the sofa saw all four humans crawling, whispering, and blaming and promptly retreated back into the shadows, clearly unimpressed.

The soft clinking of utensils and the comforting aroma of ghee-roasted suji filled the kitchen, wrapping the space in warmth. A faint golden sunlight poured in through the lace curtains, casting dreamy shadows over the tiled walls.

Aairah, standing near the stove, looked like something out of a painting, her sleeves pushed up neatly, a few strands of hair slipping from her half-tied bun as she stirred the halwa with quiet focus.

There was something peaceful in the way her bangles clicked gently every time she moved the spoon, the soft hum of her voice barely audible as she whispered a forgotten tune.

Beside her, Yasmeen sat calmly, chopping dry fruits on the board, the rhythm of her hands steady, practiced motherly.

Hayaan walked in slowly, rolling his sleeves up his forearms, his kurta slightly wrinkled from the long day but his face lit with something else, something softer.

He paused in the doorway for a moment just watching.

Watching her.

The ease in her stance, the love in her effort, the quiet way she cared. He let that moment sink in, settling somewhere deep inside him.

Then he moved forward, placed a gentle arm around his mother's shoulder, and leaned in to kiss her forehead with gratitude.

"Ap kam karte bhi kitni achii laglti hai," he said softly, glancing at Aairah smiling, Yasmeen patted his cheek.

Aiirah lifted her head and looked at him shyly, he winked at her, she blushed profusely. He reached for a handful of almonds, stuffing them cheekily into his mouth.

"Hayaan!" Yasmeen scolded, though her voice was lined with affection.

"Woh halwe ke liye hain! Tumhari begum ki mehnat mein rukawat daal rahe ho ijaazat lelo us se."

He chuckled, brushing it off, then turned toward Aairah, his expression changing the moment his eyes found hers.

That playful smile deepened into something softer... fonder.

He stepped between the two women, standing closer to Aairah now. Their shoulders brushed as he leaned in a little.

"Main kha loon, Begum?" he asked teasingly, but his voice was low, sincere, almost like he was asking something more.

She blinked up at him, startled slightly by his nearness, then whispered a quiet, "Jee...", lowering her eyes, a soft red already blooming on her cheeks.

Under the counter, hidden from Yasmeen's view, he gently took her hand. Her fingers flinched, but didn't pull away immediately. He squeezed them softly with an unspoken thank you.

Then, as Yasmeen turned to reach for the ghee, Hayaan quickly leaned in and placed a slow, feather-light kiss on Aairah's cheekbone.

A small gasp escaped her lips and the spoon in her hand clattered to the floor.

"Areh? Kya hua?" Yasmeen asked, turning around.

"Woh... bas... spoon gir gaya," Aairah replied hastily, her voice a little breathless. She bent down quickly to pick it up, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, cheeks now crimson.

Yasmeen noticed the soft tremble in her smile... and the completely innocent look on Hayaan's face.

She hid her smile, looking away, murmuring to herself, "Jawan bachon ka pyaar bhi ajeeb hota hai... "

Meanwhile, Hayaan leaned down, voice low and close to Aairah's ear.

"Do din ke liye jaa rahe hain... yaad hai na Apko?" She gently freed her arm from his hold and gave him a look, glancing at her mother.

"Hayaan... Mama ke saamne ap kya karahe hai? aur haan, poochungi unse." He sighed, slightly dramatic, then stole a tiny spoonful of the halwa and tasted it.

His eyes closed in approval, He showed her a playful thumbs-up before turning to leave. But just as he stepped out of the kitchen, he looked back once more, catching her eyes and smiling softly.

And in that one look, Aairah felt a whole conversation pass between them. She turned back to the stove, but her hands moved slower now... her heart still lingering in that moment.

Behind her, Yasmeen chuckled under her breath.

-

The last spoonful of suji ka halwa melted like warmth on the tongue. The entire family was gathered in the lounge now full stomachs, warm hearts, and soft post-dinner chatter filling the room.

Aairah sat on the floor cushion beside Hayaan, a small smile playing on her lips as she scooped a bit more halwa for him. Just as she leaned in to pass him the bowl, their kitten a fluffy ball of mischief leapt right into the space between them, curling up innocently on the rug, tail flicking against Hayaan's hand.

Hayaan narrowed his eyes. "Yeh phir aa gayi beech mein. Mujhe lagta hai yeh mujhse jalti hai." Aairah giggled, brushing her head affectionately.

"Nahi, woh sirf mujhe protect karne aayi hai. Ap Aise faces bante ho kitni piyaari tou hai."

"Main? kab faces banta hoon? Jab bas wou apke kareeb ati hai tab-" he muttered playfully, shooing the cat.

But the cat only meowed smugly and stayed put.

Across the room, Noor was massaging Zeeshan's arm while he leaned into the sofa cushions with a content groan.

"Bas karo Noor... itna pyaar de kar mujhe diabetic mat bana do." She laughed.

"Areh pyaar he tou karahii hoon dar kyun rahe ho"

Meanwhile, Sufiyan and Hala were fighting over a pillow, no less.

"Mera haath dard ho raha hai Sufiyaan, mujhe cushion do."

"Toh tumhaare haath ke liye poora sofa chhorr doon?"

"Ajeeb ho. Bilkul bache ban gaye ho, kya yeh fazool me larte ho"

"Main kab larta hoon tumhe start kartii ho." He said pulling her close and tickling her sides made her laugh.

The whole lounge was bubbling with laughter when Yasmeen cleared her throat and looked at the three couples.

"Suno, mujhe aur tumhare Baba ko laga ke... tum sabko thoda break chahiye. Isliye humne socha ke ek short trip plan karte hain sab saath milke. Kahaan... Murree chalein?"

There was a sudden pause.

Three pairs of eyes immediately glanced at each other... and then looked away. A beat passed. Then all three brothers spoke almost too quickly.

"Murree?" Sufiyan blinked.

"Ah... actually, mujhe abroad jaana hai. Singapore. Business meeting."

"Haan," Zeeshan added, clearing his throat. "Mujhe bhi... ek Match join karna hai Islamabad mein. Important match prep."

"And I," Hayaan began with dramatic flair, "I have to meet the President.. Yes."

Yasmeen narrowed her eyes. "Acha jee Yeh teeno alag-alag duniya mein jaa rahe hain ek hi weekend pe? seriously "

Their Baba murmured from behind his newspaper. "Sab bakwaas kar rahe hain. Inhein sirf apni biwiyon ke saath time chahiye ajeeb bahane."

Caught.

All three wives burst into laughter while the brothers awkwardly looked at the floor, scratching their heads like schoolboys caught cheating in a test.

"Asal me hum chahte hai ke ap aur mama holiday pe jayen akele enjoy karen bas- Zeeshan tried to reason with them. Yasmeen laughed and their father glared at them.

-

The winding roads of Murree welcomed them with a breath of crisp air cold, fresh, and soaked in the smell of pine and damp earth. The clouds hovered lazily overhead, and soft raindrops began falling like whispered blessings from the sky.

Sufiyaan stepped out of the SUV first, stretching his arms with a tired sigh. The mist curled around them like an old friend, and he couldn't help but smile.

Hala followed, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She tilted her face up, letting the raindrops kiss her cheeks. A peaceful sigh escaped her lips.

"Finally... some peace," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the breeze.

Sufiyaan stepped beside her, slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her gently into him.

"And privacy," he murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She rolled her eyes with a smile, leaning into his warmth.

As they stepped into the farmhouse, the scent of sandalwood and something sweetly familiar greeted them.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Everything was spotless, the curtains dusted, the cushions plumped, and not a single layer of dust on the glass-topped coffee table.

Hala paused at the entrance, looking around, brows slightly furrowed.

"Sufiyaan... yahan tou safai hui hai. Koi rehta hai kya?"

"Nahi. Mom-dad ne karwa di hogi. Kabhi kabhi guest ke liye ya vacation se pehle karwa lete hain," he replied casually, already taking off his jacket.

Still, Hala's eyes darted around, suspicious.

"Hmm... kuch zyada hi tayyar lag raha hai yeh ghar."

Sufiyaan turned to her and grinned, ignoring her concern.

"Aray meri Miss Detective. Ab chhodo yeh sab. Hum finally akele hain..." He walked toward her slowly, slipping his arm around her waist again.

"Aur meri chudail ke liye toh pura pahadon ka mahal hai yeh."

She burst into laughter, playfully slapping his chest. Their foreheads brushed, noses nudging. He leaned in, their breaths merging into one gentle rhythm. Her eyes fluttered shut, arms sliding up around his shoulders, heartbeat quickening...

CREAK.

The front door squeaked open. They froze.

"Sufiyaan... maine kaha tha na yahan koi hai!" Hala hissed, eyes wide. "Chor toh nahi?!"

Panic set in. In a flurry of limbs, she grabbed his hand, and the two of them darted behind the living room sofa like teenagers sneaking out of class.

Footsteps entered. Then laughter.

"Zeeshan! Thak gayi hoon, chhoro mujhe!" came Noor's breathless giggle.

"Aree meri jaan thak gayi? Pani laun kya?" Zeeshan teased, lifting her in his arms and spinning her once before gently placing her down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Hala peeked out from behind the sofa. "Yeh gadha yahan kya kar raha hai?"

"Iski toh match thi na aaj?!" she whispered.

Unable to take the confusion, Sufiyaan stood up, brushing himself off. Hala stood behind him, hiding her face in her hand out of secondhand embarrassment.

"App yahan kya kar rahe ho?" Zeeshan asked, just as shocked.

"Main?! Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" Sufiyaan snapped back.

Before either could continue their interrogation, a melodic giggle echoed down from the staircase. All eyes turned.

There, descending the wooden stairs, was Hayaan carrying Aairah effortlessly in his arms. Her arms were looped around his neck, her head nestled gently under his chin.

But that wasn't what made the others freeze.

It was Aairah's attire: a soft blush pink crop top paired with high-waisted jeans. It hugged her figure perfectly, elegant yet strikingly bold for the otherwise soft-spoken daughter-in-law they knew. Her hair was down in soft curls, cheeks flushed not from makeup, but pure happiness.

"Hayaan, mujhe utaar dein... main chal lungi khud," she whispered, cupping his neck.

"Main apki help hi tou kar raha hoon. Akele le aaya hoon toh kuch toh farz banta hai," he teased gently, touching his forehead to hers.

She laughed shyly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Wah bhabhi!" Zeeshan let out with a dramatic clap.

Everything halted.

Aairah's eyes widened in horror. Her hand flew to Hayaan's shoulder, gently tapping in panic.

"Hayaan... neeche utaren," she whispered in a panic. "Please..."

Hayaan immediately understood. He gently set her down. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, slightly in front of her, as she ducked behind him. His arm reached back for hers, and she gripped it tightly.

He turned a sharp gaze on his brothers.

"Tum log yahan kya kar rahe ho?" Hayaan asked, tone cool and protective.

Zeeshan smirked.

"Wah bhai, aap aur bhabhi toh pura honeymoon trip plan karke aaye ho. Aur bhabhi wah! Ghar mein toh hamari pyari si shy bahu... aur yahan toh proper babe mode mein ho!"

Aairah's cheeks turned scarlet. She bit her lip and looked down, clutching Hayaan's hand tighter.

Hayaan's jaw clenched.

"Shut up, Zeeshan. This is not funny. Aur tameez se baat karo bhabhi hai woh tumhari. Nazar neeche karo dono." His voice was low but firm, the kind that didn't need to rise to command respect.

Zeeshan and Sufiyan both felt quite sheepish, a little impressed.

From the side, Hala and Noor exchanged mischievous glances.

Hala slipped her shawl off and held it out with a grin.

"yeh len bhabhi. Ab toh apkeliye liye bhi emergency backup carry karna padega."

Aairah smiled shyly, took the shawl, and wrapped it quickly around herself before rushing upstairs. As her footsteps faded, Hayaan shook his head and turned to his brothers again.

"Toh... sab jhoot bolke yahan aaye ho?"

They all looked at each other..

"Bhai... aapko toh President se milna tha na?" Zeeshan mocked, raising a brow.

"Aur tumhara match?" Sufiyaan threw back with a grin.

"Aur tum dono toh alag-alag country jaa rahe the?" Hayaan folded his arms.

Before anyone could defend themselves, the kitchen door creaked open.

Laughter.

And then "Areey sab aa gaye?" Yasmeen stepped out in an apron, followed by Baba, carrying a tray of tea.

Everyone froze.

"MAMA? BABA?!" all three brothers yelled in unison.Yasmeen just smiled sweetly.

"Socha tum log itna jhoot bol rahe ho toh hum bhi thoda mazaak kar lein. Waise bhi, humne guess kar liya tha tum teeno kahaan jaane wale ho."

There was silence, Then pure, unstoppable laughter.

The farmhouse that was supposed to be their private escape had just turned into an accidental family reunion.

A quiet comfort had settled over the night.

The once-private farmhouse, meant to be a solo escape for three-couples, now echoed with the sounds of laughter, teasing, guitar strums, and shared blankets. The chaos of discovery earlier had mellowed into something sweeter, something that felt like home.

Zeeshan strummed a soft tune, completely offbeat but with full confidence.

"Yeh kya baja rahe ho?" Noor asked through a laugh, leaning against his shoulder.

"Apni feelings," he replied dramatically. "Tum samajh nahi sakti. Yeh dil ka chord hai." She giggled, covering her face.

Across the fire, Hala was fighting Sufiyaan over a packet of chips, again. "Mujhe de do! Tumhe sirf meri cheezen khane ka shauk hai, bhook nahi hoti !" she snapped.

"Tum bhii tou meri ho na tou bas phir tumhari cheez meri merii!" Sufiyaan defended, holding it up like a trophy.

Their bickering made everyone laugh until Yasmeen called out from the porch, holding mugs of chai.

"Tum sab abhi bhi purani cheezon mein hi atke ho."

"Toh kya hua? Bachpan ki yaadon or purani lamhon mein hi toh sabse zyada sukoon hota hai," Baba said, smiling looking at her and handing her a cup as their fingers brushed she blushed.

Hayaan sat at the edge of the circle, Aairah curled beside him, her head on his shoulder, wrapped in his jacket. She was quiet in the way that meant she was entirely content.

Their fingers were interlaced under the shawl, swaying slowly with the breeze.

"Aap theek hain? mujhe laga ap bahir he nai ayengi" he whispered. She nodded, eyes shut.

"Theek se zyada. Ap thay na mere sath mera sahara aur mera khayal rakhne ke liye."

"Ap behad khoobsoorat lagrahi thii, Par phir bhi mujhe ap aise salwar suit or Saree me he sabse ziada pasand hain" He whispered and leaned down, brushed his lips softly against her temple, and closed his eyes.

Amid the laughter... there were unspoken things too. A few secrets they didn't share, Some wounds are still healing. Some tensions left unsaid family politics, personal dreams, subtle pressures.

And then there were quiet dangers still lurking from the outside world, from expectations, from the future they had yet to fully shape.

But for tonight, none of it mattered.

They were wrapped in shawls, in the smell of bonfire smoke, in the comfort of each other's presence.

No roles to play. No perfection to uphold.

Just family, raw, ridiculous, and real.

Yasmeen leaned against Baba, watching her children and their partners with a soft smile.

"Kya soch rahi ho?" Baba asked. She exhaled.

"Bas yeh... ke zindagi kabhi plan ke mutabiq nahi chalti. Par jab chalti hai... toh isi tarah chalni chahiye. Saath."

Baba nodded. "Jhoot, sach, pyar, pareshani sab le kar."

And as the fire dimmed and the stars peeked out behind drifting clouds, laughter continued to echo through the trees.

They were together.

They were happy.

And for now, that was enough.

A FAMILY WHICH IS NOT BOUND BY BLOOD BUT PURE LOVE.

THIS WAS THE LAST CHAPTER OF TWISTING FAMILY OF SIKANDARS- AND I HOPE AS MUCH AS I ENJOYED THIS JOURNEY YOU ALL MUST HAVE TOO.

I thank each one of you for showing so much love support and craziness for those book, this will always remain one of my favourite work with the best characters.

I hope you have enjoyed all the characters and their personalities different from eachother, every emotion every scene every dialogue you guys have lived it with me, I hope you guys give more and more love to this book.

GOODBYE TO- HAYAAN AAIRAH, SUFIYAAN HALA AND ZEESHAN NOOR!!! SHAHVEER AND YASMEEN-😭❤️🦋

Maybe just maybe I might write Shahveer and yasmeen's book on heavy demand!!-🌚

TILL THEN LETS MEET EACH OTHER IN NEXT BOOKS DO SUPPORT AND KEEP YOU LOVE AND PRAYERS WITH ME...

HAYAAN AND AAIRAH ARE COMMING BACK SUKOON- E-QALB IS PUBLISHED ADD IT IN YOUR TBR-🦋😭❤️

THANKYOU YOUR WRITER MUSH 🙌✨