VENGEANCE

Amal

Dina practically leaped at her brother as soon as he entered the living room, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oye hoye, itna pyar!” Khizr teased, his grin wide as he leaned down slightly to match her height, though Dina still had to rise on her tiptoes to reach him. “If I’d known this was the kind of treatment I’d get, I would’ve done this earlier.”

“I hate you! Where were you?” Dina’s voice was a mixture of relief and frustration as she broke the hug, pushing him away with a small shove.

“I told you, I was on a business trip,” Khizr began, his tone attempting to soothe her worries.

“But you said it was for a week, and it’s been nearly three weeks!” Dina’s eyes shone with worry, the lines of stress evident on her face. It was the first time her brother had been away for so long, and Hayyan’s daily outbursts about Khizr’s absence had done nothing to calm her. If anything, his anger had only fueled her fears.

“I just got caught up with a lot of things,” Khizr said softly, pulling her into another embrace. The warmth of his hug was meant to reassure, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. Dina sighed, deciding to let it go for now, and offered to get him something to eat. She headed to the kitchen, her mind still restless.

“You rascal! I’ll kill you!” Khizr heard Hayyan shout just before something hard collided with his back. Pain flared as he spun around, spotting the shattered remains of a vase on the floor.

“What the hell?” Khizr managed to say before another object came flying his way. Hayyan was relentless, his face twisted in fury, each throw fueled by three weeks of pent-up anger. One item grazed Khizr’s hand, leaving a small cut.

“We should be the ones getting angry!” Fateh joined in, tossing pillows at him. The room quickly descended into chaos, cushions and objects flying everywhere.

Yazid, meanwhile, sat on the sofa, observing the scene unfold. He occasionally tossed a cushion to Hayyan and Fateh when they asked for more ammunition.

“Allah khayr! What are you doing, Hayyan? Fateh?” Armeena’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with concern, as she hurried into the living room. The loud noises had drawn her in, and she now stood, aghast, watching Fateh and Hayyan trying to choke Khizr with a cushion. Khizr, pinned down, had given up struggling, his body limp as if he’d resigned himself to his friends’ rage.

Fateh and Hayyan finally let go, both panting heavily. Khizr sat up on the floor, shaking his head in disbelief, picking pieces of cushion stuffing off his juice-soaked shirt, thanks to Hayyan’s earlier outburst leading to a jug of juice emptied in him. Yazid’s chuckle broke the silence, earning him a withering glare from Khizr.

“Yazid, you too?” Armeena sighed, hands on her hips, looking at each of the boys in turn.

“For heaven’s sake, you’re both pushing thirty and behaving like three-year-olds!” she scolded Hayyan and Fateh.

She turned to Khizr, her expression softening with concern. “Where’s Amal? I haven’t seen her around.”

Khizr hesitated, his gaze shifting away. He hadn’t expected this question so soon. Fateh and Hayyan exchanged knowing looks but stayed silent, leaving Khizr to deal with the situation on his own. After all, they thought, he deserved it.

“Amal? She left,” Khizr replied, his voice flat. There was no point in hiding the truth; it would come out eventually.

Armeena frowned. “What do you mean she left? She’s your wife—”

“She went to Raheem’s,” Khizr cut her off before she could continue. His voice was sharp, defensive. “Hayyan’s wife, Dina, stays here most of the time, and you never say anything about it. But when it comes to my wife, you have a problem?”