Ishq-e-Junoon

14. Shiddat

-Dhadkan sambhalu ya saans kabu mein karun,
Tujhe nazar bhar dekhne mein aafat bohat hain

☾

The night was calm, but Meher's heart wasn't. She sat by the window of her room, phone tightly gripped in her hand, glancing nervously at the door to make sure no one overhears. After what felt like hours of waiting, her phone finally buzzed, and Arshad's name flashed on the screen. She answered immediately.

"Main kitna miss kar rahi thi aapko," Meher's voice was soft, carrying the weight of longing she had felt for days.

[I have been missing you so much.]

"Maine bhi aapko bohat miss kiya, Meher," Arshad responded, his voice warm and reassuring. The stress of the day lifted just hearing her voice, but there was an undeniable exhaustion beneath his tone.

[I have missed you too Meher.]

"Maine kitni calls ki aapko... aapne receive hi nahi ki," she complained, her tone tinged with hurt. The fear of being ignored gnawed at her, especially with everything weighing on their relationship.

[I called you so many times...you didn't receive them.]

Arshad sighed, "Bohat kaam tha... aur network ke bhi issues the," he explained softly, hoping to ease her concern. He had been overwhelmed with work, but he never wanted Meher to feel neglected.

[I had too much work to do...there were some network issues as well.]

There was silence for a moment before he asked' "Aap naraz hain kya?"

[Are you upset?]

"Jee," Meher huffed, her frustration evident.

[Yes.]

Arshad chuckled, already prepared to make amends. "Maine aapke favourite chocolates aapke ghar bhijwaye hain," he said, his voice carrying the hint of a smile, hoping to win her over.

[I have sent your favourite chocolates at the mansion.]

Meher's eyes widened in panic. "Ghar kyun bhijwaye? Agar kisi ne pucha toh main kya kahungi?" Her heart raced, imagining what would happen if someone found out.

[Why did you send them at the mansion? What will I say if someone asks me?]

Arshad chuckled, trying to calm her. "Keh do ke kisi dost ne diye."

[Just tell them that a friend has given you.]

"Mujhe bhai se bohat darr lag raha hain. Agar unhe hamare bare mein pata chala toh wo aapki jaan le lenge," she said, her voice quivering with genuine fear. Shahmeer's anger was legendary, and if he found out about their secret, there would be consequences—dangerous ones.

[I am scared of my brother, if he gets to know about us, he'll kill you.]

Arshad's voice softened, but there was a firmness to it, "Haan, jaan toh wo lega... par fikr nahi karo, main sambhal lunga." He tried to ease her worry, though he knew the risk all too well.

[Yes... he'll kill me but don't worry I'll take care of it.]

Falling in love with your best friend's sister wasn't something forgivable. Arshad knew Shahmeer would be furious if he ever found out. Shahmeer was more than just a friend—he was like a brother, a man he'd stood by through thick and thin. Crossing that line wasn't just a betrayal; it was an act that would forever strain their bond.

But what could he do? He was in love with her.

Meher wasn't just Shahmeer's sister to him. She was the woman who made his heart race with a single smile, who filled the emptiness in his life with warmth and meaning. He had tried to resist it, told himself a thousand times that it was wrong, that there were boundaries he shouldn't cross. But the heart wasn't something that could be easily controlled, and now he found himself in too deep.

He wasn't a coward, but the thought of losing Shahmeer's trust kept him up at night.

Loving Meher meant losing Shahmeer, and that thought haunted him every day.

Still, when he thought about their future together, all the fear melted away. For her, he'd face anything—even Shahmeer's wrath.

☾

It had been two days since Shahmeer had asked her the question, and still, there was no answer. Izzah remained quiet, even when sitting with him and Meher during dinners. She would speak only to Meher, completely avoiding conversation with him.

Shahmeer was growing impatient, though he kept his cool on the outside. He had been waiting for her response, but she hadn't even acknowledged his presence. Today, in the afternoon, he returned home to give her something—a phone he had bought specifically for her. Sure, he could've sent it with someone, but he wanted to give it to her personally.

He stood in the living room, staring out at the garden, his thoughts clouded by the wait. He instructed Anwar to call Izzah, and soon, he heard her soft footsteps approaching.

She appeared in a simple yet elegant purple shalwar kameez, her chadar draped modestly over her head. There was something about the way she carried herself, always so graceful and elegant, that stirred something deep within him.

"Jee, aapne bulaya?" she asked softly, her voice gentle and hesitant.

[Did you call for me?]

"Yeh lo, tumhara phone," he said, extending the shiny new device toward her.

[Here take this, your phone.]

She glanced at the sleek, expensive-looking phone in his hand but hesitated. "Iski kya zarurat thi?" she asked quietly.

[Why is this necessary?]

"Zarurat hai," Shahmeer responded firmly. "Apni mumma se baat kaise karogi tum?"

[It is necessary, how else will you talk to your mother?]

Izzah's fingers trembled slightly as she looked at the phone again, still unsure. "Jee, woh... Mumma keh rahi thi ke calls tap ho rahe hain," she explained cautiously.

[Well.... Mumma said that the calls are being tapped.]

"Fikr nahi karo," Shahmeer reassured her, his voice steady and confident. "Lines secure ki hain maine. Tap nahi ho sakte calls. Aaram se baat karo."

[Don't worry, I've secured the lines, calls can't be tapped. Speak freely.]

She blinked up at him, uncertain yet grateful for the gesture. Even though she still hadn't given him an answer, something about this moment felt significant—an unspoken understanding passing between them.