Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

42 - Dua

Engrossed in a knotted embrace that mirrored their inner state, Meerab felt his breath waft upon her skin in fevered gusts; the sensation was heady and dizzying, both arms curled around her as she leaned backwards, only balanced on the back edge of her needle-heel. Murtasim leaned ever closer, lost in her bewildered wide eyes and stained plump lips, drawn further into her warmth. ''I love you,'' murmured off his lips, sighing.

The other couples stopped swirling, watching as Murtasim hovered dangerously close by Meerab, the distance between them waning into something scandalously intimate.

Shaano gasped from behind his shoulder playfully, their chemistry undeniable as she interrupted, ''Don't kiss, hum sharma jaengye.'' (We will get shy.)

Yasmin covered her eyes innocently, blushing like a doll as her little hand rose to give them privacy.

The mention of a kiss made both of them jolt back to reality. Murtasim hauled her upright, and Meerab seemed flustered at how closely they held each other without noticing, embarrassment pinching the shell of her ears into a carmine shade.

''Kaafi practice ho gye hai. I have guests to see to,'' Murtasim said to diffuse the attention, shaking off the heady warmth of his wife that erased surroundings and slowed time. He turned for the door, but at that exact moment, it swung open, allowing in an icy, sobering gust of air. (That's enough practice.)

Nosheen — late Amar's sister and once resident of their Karachi student house — stood in the doorway, visage etched in unbridled hatred. ''It's nice to see that the affair really sparked after you killed my brother.''

The accusation hung in the air between them.

Meerab felt like she was seeing a ghost, turning ghastly pale within the second. ''Nosheen?'' Stuttered off Meerab's lips with shock, in the throes of disbelief.

''Miss me?'' Nosheen drawled out mockingly, emanating darkness that immediately had them on edge. Rayaan's grip on Shaano tightened protectively and Murtasim's stance widened warily, seeing red.

Nosheen had been wronged and was no longer a peppy university student, now wandering in the depths of grief and hurt as she stood before them, bereft of colour and life. She wore a black kaftan and charcoal heels, her look calculated enough to thwart a wedding, simple enough to hint she was no guest that they'd invited.

Shaano freed herself and scampered forward to pull Nosheen away, to mellow the scene into something controlled, hissing, ''Shut up. There was no affair.'' Guests had shown up and Murtasim was a semi-public figure, gossip swarming around him at any given time.

''Oh, please!'' Nosheen screamed so loud that her voice bounced off the walls and echoed mockingly past the tall windows, her vocals seeming louder than a speakerphone. The guileness laced into her words carried thick, tangible heartbreak when she shared, ''The timing is just so perfect! So romantic how everything just worked out, Meerab and her bodyguard— what a nice excuse to fuck around behind his—''

Murtasims stepped forward, his frame eclipsing her view, blocking Meerab behind. ''Baqwas band karro. Koyi affair nahi tha!'' He gritted out, voice so gravelly and dark that it caused Meerab to sober after their romantic dance. The air palpably cooled into iciness. (Shut up! There was no affair.)

Nosheen was wholly hysterical, not intimidated by him for a single second — not back then and not now. She shook her head slowly, the conviction in her unwavering despite Murtasim's threatening growls and look of warming.

Murtasim gritted out, ''Na hi maine tumhare bhai ko maara hai.'' (Nor did I kill your brother!)

''Money might have blinded the rest of you, but not me! Bhai told me, in that restaurant—'' Nosheen panted, delirious, ''—before attacking him, tumne kaha tha ke Meerab tumhari hai. Then you made him flee the country, and then...'' Her entire stance collapsed under the reality of her brother being gone. A sob tore free from Nosheen's lips. (You said Meerab is mine.)