Hikayat ✔

Chap. 23

Harris woke up with a terrible ache that raced throughout his body as he got up. His head pounded, feeling heavy, as if replaced by a basketball.

"Uffff yarr..." he winced, as he massaged his temples, squeezing his eyes shut.

The morning light floating in through the open window though gentle, still burned his eyes. The cold breeze making his teeth rattle.

But he didn't even have the fan on—

Shit!

Peeking through his lashes, Harris noticed he had forgotten to close his window the previous night.

Why did he even open it in the first place?

Slowly all the memories flitted through his brain, all the unanswered questions that prickled his mind and pinched at his wounded heart.

Questions, he had promised himself he wouldn't ask because he didn't want to know.

Because he had decided he was done with her forever. That he didn't care if she didn't love him back, if Faizan Uncle's family left them and never once called—even when his mother repeatedly called for days— Didn't care even if not one of their messages were replied to.

He had promised he would never ask why.

However, since Harris met her, his mind and heart were in a rigorous battle, fighting tooth and nail for superiority over the other.

His mind wanted to forget Vania forever. Forget her, whom he had loved more than himself, and forget Faizan Uncle, who was like his father after his father, and forget Maniha khala who was his mother's soul sister and to him like his mother, and forget Zainab, Zeeshan; his siblings. His mind told him that those emotions of his were unrequieted. That Faizan uncle's family never did feel as deeply for the Abdullah's as they did. His mind told him it was better this way. They were living on their own, in affluence probably happy.

His heart though...

His heart wanted to just forget everything and hold her in a tight embrace. Ask her, plead with her, beg her, urge her, to confide in him with her troubles. Trust her.

His heart and the reality in front of his eyes were a whole different story from his mind and practical thought. The house Harris had dropped Vania at yesterday was nothing like the house he'd reckon a finance director lived in. Then the silent demeanor of Vania and the sadness of her personality, all of that was entirely new. Vania had never been such a subdued personality, she was exactly the opposite. He remembered her laugh and it wasn't the same anymore.

But how would he know what was real when he didn't even know what was a lie?

What he did know was...

There was a truth hidden behind this all. One his heart wanted to uncover, but his mind wanted to leave it as it was. Because intuition, told Harris it was painful, that it would hurt him deeply.

***

He had a very restless night. Suffocated by his own thoughts, Harris had made the terrible decision of opening the window, despite Hareem's warnings, then fell asleep on the futon forgetting to close it.

Now, his headache and sneezes, made him want to kill himself.

***

"Achoo!!" he sneezed loudly and sniffed.

Something soft nugded his arm and Harris looked up to see Hareem passing him tissues.

"Thanks yaar," he grabbed them gratefully.