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*
Hamdan
"I'm honoured..." Nayab was muttering away in her sleep.
I glanced at her, smiling in amusement, as I sprayed on my cologne.
"...world renowned fashion designer." She sighed, still asleep.
"One day, In Sha Allah." I muttered, moving towards the bedside table to grab my wallet, phone and the key to my rental car.
"My daughter..."
Her words froze me in my steps. Her what? I turned around, hoping to hear more of her dream conversation, but she turned over, and stopped talking in her sleep.
And suddenly, an image of a sweet little girl standing besides Nayab, holding her hand and staring up at her in awe, entered my mind, and I smiled. Our daughter.
Gillani heiress. These words made my jaw clench. No. My kids will not enter politics. They can choose to be anything else they wanted, but not a politician.
I walked out, the smile reappearing on my face as I imagined mine and Nayab's kids. In Sha Allah.
As I walked down the hotel corridor, my phone rang and I glanced down at the caller ID: Mama. I declined the call yet again. But then I was once again reminded of how Dado had taught us not to disrespect Mama's status due to politics. I dialled her number. "Assalam Alaikum."
"Walaikum Assalam!" She sounded relieved. "Hamdan, you came to see your Dado yesterday, but not me. Do you know how worried I was?"
"Why would you be worried when you knew exactly where Sabeen and I were?"
"What are you talking about?" She sounded so bewildered that I began to wonder if it was genuine, and not an act.
"Go and get your sympathy votes. Why waste time talking to me?"
"Hamdan, beta, I am not behind this kidnapping."
"Do you understand why I don't trust you, right?"
"I didn't do this. Hamdan, I was living every second in fear when you and Sabeen were gone." Her voice broke. "I'm your mother. Accuse me of anything, but not this. I would not use my kids in this way."
I felt my resolve weakening.
"Please come and see me." She pleaded.
"I'm not in Islamabad right now. I'll come and see you when I'm back, In Sha Allah."
"Where are you?"
"Just...out of city." I hesitated to tell her my location.
"So much mistrust, Hamdan?" She sounded hurt.
"You made your own daughter feel that her life was less valuable than her siblings'. You really want to talk about trust issues?" I ended the call, before dialling another number. "Rohail, I'm on my way. We have a lot to catch up on."
*
Nayab
I stared at my lehenga again.
I designed it.
Me.
Nayab.
I remember that when I had sketched this out, I was obsessed with the combination of blue and white. I'd jokingly told Nafeesa that this was going to be my wedding outfit, not something red.
YOU ARE READING
Empowered
Romance'A political empire, a forbidden love' Hamdan Gillani, the only son of political leader Samreen Gillani, refuses to fall into the dirty world of politics, and instead fights against corruption, even if it's in the form of his own family. His mother...
