Kashmakash

Part 37

Hyder sank deeper into the plush armchair, the silence in the therapist's office thick with unspoken words. Three months since they'd left the haveli, one month since his first session, he still wasn't ready to talk about it. Not the details, not the raw, searing memories that clawed at the edges of his sanity.

"Mr. Siddiqui," the therapist's voice, gentle and soothing, broke the quiet. "I apologize for causing you discomfort. You weren't ready for that particular topic."

The wave of nausea that had hit him then, the urge to flee, still lingered. "It's...too painful," he rasped, throat constricting.

"But you told Naazia."

He flinched. Naazia knew the bare bones, the sanitized version, but not the jagged teeth of his past. Not the hollowness that gnawed at him, not the rage that simmered beneath the surface.

"It's different with her," he muttered. "Easier."

A knowing smile played on the therapist's lips. "Easier because she loves you?"

Hyder nodded, a sliver of shame pricking at him. His marriage, a haven of laughter and quiet intimacy, deserved better than his haunted nightmares.

"And with me?" The therapist's gaze held a quiet challenge. "Isn't this about healing, Mr. Siddiqui? About overcoming your past?"

The challenge sparked a flicker of defiance. "Tell me how to describe myself from then and now," he challenged back, a desperate bid to regain control.

"Scared, perhaps," the therapist mused. "Lost in a dark maze. And the Hyder of today? Resilient. Determined. Carrying scars, yes, but finding the light."

He scoffed, bitterness coating his tongue. "Scared? I still am."

"Then tell me about it. This fear, where does it hide? In the echoes of past whispers? In the phantom touch of ghosts?"

Hyder's breath hitched. The unspoken pain stung, but somewhere, beneath the hurt, a spark ignited. Fear, yes, but not just of the past. Fear of facing himself. Of the anger that roared like a caged beast, trapped by guilt and regret.

"Fear," he whispered, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "Fear of my helplessness, my inability... of what I caused."

A tear escaped, a single droplet tracing a trail of grief down his cheek. "My father... it was my fault, wasn't it? Making him so weak..."

The therapist leaned forward, her eyes filled with a fierce compassion. "No, Hyder. You were a warrior, shielding your family while battling your own demons. A son carrying burdens no child should bear. You protected them, even when it cost you your own peace."

His body, tense for so long, finally relaxed. A sob escaped him, raw and cathartic, as years of pent-up tears spilled over. The therapist offered no empty platitudes, just the silent space for his grief to unfold.

It was then the door creaked open, Naazia peeking in, concern etched on her face. The therapist gave her a reassuring smile, then excused herself.

Naazia rushed to his side, enveloping him in her warmth. "Hey," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Kaisa tha?"

He held her gaze, no longer hiding the storm in his eyes. "Painful," he admitted, "but somehow... lighter."

She smiled, relief flooding her features. "You're strong, Hyder. Stronger than you think."

Later, under the silken embrace of their sheets, she confessed, "This month... we made a profit."

He felt a surge of pride, of gratitude for her resilience. "I knew you could do it," he murmured, tracing patterns on her skin.

"You believe in me more than I believe in myself," she laughed, nuzzling closer. "Apki wajah se sab hua. Aap naa force karte to hum try bhi nahi karte."

He pulled her flush against him, the echo of the therapist's words still resonating. "We are opposites," she said, stroking her hair. "That's why we fit."
"Matlab?" I asked her.
"Aap boring and main fun. Aap smart and main dumb. Aap shant and main nautanki. Aap gussail and main hasmukh.' I smiled listening to her 'Aap buddhe and main jawan' she said teasingly.
I lightly slapped her lips and responded 'Main handsome and tum ugly'

He chuckled, warmth radiating through him. "You're the moon," she replied, closing her eyes, "calm and wise. And I'm the sun, a ball of chaotic energy."

"And together," he whispered, "we make a universe."

Their laughter mingled, a testament to their love, a promise of a future painted with healing and hope. The shadows of the past still lingered, but now, he faced them with newfound courage, hand in hand with the woman who loved him, flaws and all.