preference delights

"Chaos of Love"

              Chapter 15
Zareena couldn't hide her emotions when she saw her mother-in-law had regained consciousness. She couldn't help but wrap her arms tightly around her.

"Oh Amma, leave Dadi, or she'll suffocate! At least give her some space to breathe." Ahmed applied a little force to untangle the two. Dadi let out a deep gasp as she freed herself from Zareena's grip.

"Zareena, did you take lessons from Majida on emotional torture? You nearly sent me back into a coma," Dadi said gruffly after taking a few more breaths.

"Amma, I'm sorry, but I can't express what I'm feeling. Thank God for answering my prayers," Zareena said, tears of happiness in her eyes. Even the thought of losing Dadi was tormenting for her.

"Amma, remember, the doctor advised us not to stress Dadi, so please end this emotional drama and create a peaceful environment so she can recover quickly, hmm?" For the first time, Zareena noticed a hint of maturity in Ahmed.

Zareena glanced at the door and called her daughter. "Zarmeena?"

All of them looked towards the door as Zarmeena peeked in. "The doctor wants to see you in his office," she said from outside, only letting her head inside the room.

"Ahmed, stay with Dadi. I'll be back in a few minutes," Zareena instructed before following Zarmeena out. As they walked a bit further, Zareena grabbed her hand and pulled her to a corner.

"Have you managed to get some money?" she muttered.

Zarmeena nodded and knelt down. She slid the hemline of her jeans upward and pulled out a thin pile of notes from her socks. Standing back up, she handed the pile to her mother.

"I took advances from all the retailers and restaurant owners we know, but it still wasn't enough to cover the hospital bills. That's why I added some of my savings," she informed with a grin, knowing her mother wouldn't approve.

"Zarmeena, I already told you I don't need that money," Zareena snapped, glaring at her.

"Mom, Dadi's health is our prime concern. We'll handle other things later." Sensing Zarmeena's determination, Zareena didn’t argue further.

Zareena took the money and put it inside her wallet. "Okay, Mom, I’ll be back in an hour. Then you can go home and get some rest." She quickly slung her backpack over her shoulders, but before heading outside, she turned back.

"Amma, we also have to deliver the orders on time. I'll help you in the fields, so don't stress yourself. We’ll get through this. The main thing is that, by God's grace, Dadi has bounced back." Zarmeena smiled sweetly to reassure her mother.

Zareena smiled back for a moment but soon became pensive again. She was thinking about the upcoming financial turmoil they would face due to Dadi’s illness.

Sensing her mother’s worry, Zarmeena held her hand and patted it. "Don't worry, Amma. Everything will be alright. You're the strongest mother I know. I’m going to buy fertilizers. Chacha Arshid watered the fields, but more effort is required for a better yield. Only then can we fulfill our orders on time," Zarmeena explained calmly.

"But how will you manage all this by yourself?" Zareena muttered, concerned about her daughter taking on too much responsibility.

"Mother, I’ll be fine. You should focus on Dadi. I’m not alone—I have my team." Zarmeena smirked, thinking of her loyal "ready to take action" gang: her dear students, whom she always tutored in math for free. They had helped her with countless tasks and always obeyed their leader, teacher, and elder sister.

Zareena felt overwhelmed by her daughter’s love. She gazed at her as she disappeared down the hospital corridor.

---

"It can't be true!" Fahad was in disbelief. He would have found it normal if Salaar had ever shown any interest in girls before. Stunned by the revelation, he looked at Salaar for confirmation, but Salaar was still unable to say anything. Suddenly, Fahad realized that Salaar's silence was a sign of approval.

"My God!" Fahad held his head in both hands. "Does Aunty Warda know about this?" he asked. Salaar nodded as if he had committed the biggest crime.

"Salaar, why? Why? Aunty Warda will kill me!" Fahad groaned, swinging his whole body in tension.

"Jawad, pinch me and wake me from this dreadful nightmare," Fahad extended his hand to Jawad, who pinched it.

"I’ll punch you, jerk! What does Aunty have to do with this?" Jawad raised his fist, as if he really wanted to punch Fahad but couldn't.

"What does she have to do with this? Brother, if she gets the slightest hint of this new development in Salaar's life, she’ll never let me live in peace. After all, she pays me to keep an eye on him!" Fahad let the truth slip innocently, leaving both Salaar and Jawad in shock.

"Now you really deserve a punch!" Jawad rolled up his sleeves and hit Fahad across the face. Neither of them had expected Jawad to actually punch him.

"You scoundrel, you're not even true to your word! You said a few minutes ago that you’d die for Salaar. Is this what you call friendship? Salaar, allow me to knock his teeth out." He was ready for a second attack, but Salaar stopped him.

"And for how much did you sell out your friend?" Jawad asked sarcastically.

"Lunch at Salt and Pepper," Fahad admitted naively, still rubbing his punched cheek.

"So that’s it! I always wondered why you disappeared at lunchtime. Mr. Duty to Deceive His Friend!" Jawad was now on a mission to seek revenge for all Fahad's previous wrongdoings, though there were none.

"Jawad, stop it now." There was frustration in Salaar's voice.

"Salaar, I swear I didn’t deceive you. Sorry to say, but your life was so boring. There wasn’t much to report. Aunty Warda was afraid you’d get trapped by Leena, which I already knew was impossible. So I thought, why not take advantage of the opportunity and accept Aunty Warda’s offer?"

Fahad paused, noticing their intense focus on him. He continued, "There’s one more thing."

"Go ahead. My hands are ready to grab your neck," Jawad said sternly, further rolling up his sleeves.

"Since my brother's marriage, my mother has refused to set foot in the kitchen. My sister-in-law's cooking is unbearable. Sometimes it’s too spicy, sometimes too salty, half-cooked, or overcooked. My father’s blood pressure is through the roof, but my mother is adamant that she won't cook anymore. And if we complain, brother Sataar gets offended. So I saw this as my golden opportunity to give my innocent tummy a feast. Now tell me, what was my mistake that I deserved to be hit by this bull?" He pointed at Jawad, rubbing his still-red cheek.
"I’m a victim on both sides, plus I'm losing my chance at good food!" He sighed deeply.

"Oh, look at Mr. Innocent. He fooled all of us in one stroke and now plays naive." There was sarcasm in Jawad's voice.

"Okay, okay, enough now, Jawad." Salaar interrupted. "Fahad, from now on, come to my portion; we’ll feast together. But I won’t allow you to report to my mom anymore."

"Yes, yes, I will if Chacha Zubair lets me. He won’t even let me set foot inside your portion. God forbid—he’s protecting you as if you’re an emerald in Queen Victoria’s crown," Fahad said, disappointed with Zubair's overprotective behavior.

"Congratulations, here come the aftereffects of expressing your emotions to your mother." Fahad's voice quivered as he glanced toward the door. All three turned and froze in disbelief.

Aunty Warda was standing at the canteen entrance, gazing around restlessly.

---