𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐍 - rewritten | ✓

FIFTEEN

"Aaima keh rishte wale aarahe hain. Koi bhi ghalti hui na aaj toh jaan se mardongi," Asma said to her and then left. Maham stayed still, staring at the wall shaken up by the threat.
(People are coming for Aaima's proposal. If there is any mistake I will kill you.)

She was wearing a black dress, with a see-through dupatta belonging to her mother. She prepared snacks, and tea, and kept them in a tray. She also prepared lunch. She could hear people coming and she hid in the kitchen until she heard her name call. She put her dupatta over her head and picked up the tray. 

She could hear chatter even from outside as they welcomed the guests and asked them about their trip. Maham stepped inside.

"Aslam o Alaykum," she said, quietly. 

"Walaiku-"

Maham looked up and froze. Her blood ran cold and she stopped breathing. Ayesha. The people who were there with a proposal for Aaima were Ayesha's family. She shifted her gaze to her offender and she felt her heart drop into her stomach.

Three years since she saw him. Three years of suppressing that scared feeling deep in her heart came out to the top. She thought she had moved on. She thought that if she ever saw him, she wouldn't be scared. But even in the crowded room. Even with her husband there, she was terrified.

"Yeh meri bahu hai,"
(She is my daughter-in-law.)

"Yeh?!"
(Her?!)

The tray dropped from her hands and she heard gasps before she ran away. She ran out of the living room as if running for her life, and when she reached her bedroom. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

The room filled with her loud heavy breaths. She felt her lunch piling up to her throat and she ran to the bathroom, throwing up. She cleaned up but her vomiting still didn't make her feel better.

She was trembling and she was confused. She backed away, her back hitting the wall and she fell on her knees. She rubbed her chest, crying and gasping for air.

"Maafi chahti hoon. Bohut sehmi si larki hai. Bachpan mai iske maa baap ispe bohut zulm karte the isliye jab bhi naye logon ko dekhti hai toh dar jati hai," Asma lied, Ayesha and her mother shared a look.
(I ask for forgiveness. She is a very scared girl. In her childhood, her parents used to hit her a lot so when she sees new people she gets scared.)

Abdul hid a smirk. It was as if a girl being scared of him gave him a sense of power. He felt powerful knowing that he traumatized a girl so much to the point she started trembling as soon as she saw him.

"Koi baat nahi. Hame wese bhi us se kya. Ham toh kisi aur ke liye aayein hain," His mother said.
(It's okay. It doesn't matter to us. After all, we're here for someone else.)

━━━━━━━

"Maham ko bolao. Un logon ke samne sharminda kardiya usne hame! Bolao usse!" Their youngest uncle, Aziz, yelled.
(Call Maham. She embarrassed us in front of them. Call her!)

"Nahi. Mai khud usse baat karonga." Zayan left and stood up, walking away. He stormed up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. And then he walked towards his bedroom door, angrily. He tried to open it but it was locked so he started pounding.
(No. I will talk to her myself.)

Maham flinched and looked up, "Maham, darwaza kholo," Hearing his voice. She knew he was angry. But that was the least of her worries. She needed him. She needed his touch to comfort herself that she had a husband whose touch wasn't uncomfortable. She needed comfort.
(Maham, opened the door.)

She opened the door and he walked inside. She quickly closed and locked the door before turning around. He was scolding her but she gripped his collar and pulled him to her lips.

"I need you, Zayan. Please." She whispered in between the kiss. He shook his head, pulling away.

"I want an explanation right now. What the hell was that downstairs?" He asked but his questions only brought more fear in her.

"Zayan!" She slightly raised her tone and he looked at her.

"I. Need. You." She said, slowly and more assertively. He swallowed the lump in his throat, desire filling his heart and he sighed. She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.