Anything For You

|Trapped Together|

Fariz paced the length of his room, his long strides heavy with frustration. His brow was furrowed, and his hands alternated between raking through his hair and clenching into tight fists at his sides. His sharp jawline twitched with the effort of containing the mix of irritation and something else he couldn't quite name. He stopped briefly at the large window, staring out at the dark sky as if the night would offer him a solution.

"What has Papa forced me into?" he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with suppressed anger. He inhaled deeply, but it did nothing to calm the whirlwind inside him.

Hashim had made it very clear—he had to convince Mahnoor to return to work, no matter what. Even if it meant apologizing.

Apologize? The word felt foreign to him, almost impossible. He had never apologized to anyone before.

He threw his hands up in frustration, huffing. "How can Papa expect me to say sorry? That too... to a normal employee?"

His finger swiped across his phone, pulling up the contact list, and there it was—Mahnoor. For the last thirty minutes, he had been staring at that name, contemplating what on earth he could say to her. Groaning, he dropped onto the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands for a brief moment.

"Enough!" he huffed, sitting up straight, frustration tightening his chest. "I'll say whatever comes to my mind."

Without allowing himself another moment of hesitation, he pressed his thumb on the call button.

▪️▪️▪️

Mahnoor lay sprawled across her bed on her stomach, her legs swaying lazily in the air as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Her thick, dark locks cascaded over her shoulders, brushing the edges of her pillow. With one hand, she held her mobile against her ear.

"I have never met such an egoistic man in my life," she exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration.

"Have you told Maju Amma or Aasim Bhai about this?" came the calm, concerned voice from the other end.

"No, Sara, and I'm not planning to. They'll get unnecessarily worried if they find out," she huffed, shaking her head.

She had been talking with Sara, her best friend, for the past half hour, and she had been listening to her every complaint. She was an event planner and the more calm one in this duo.

"Hmm," Sara hummed. "Mujhe lagta hai tujhe apne baba ki company join kar leni chahiye. Kyuki jitna tune use sunaya hai, mujhe nahi lagta wo tujhe kisi aur company mein kaam karne dega." (I think you should join your father's company. After all that you have told him, I doubt he will let you work anywhere else.)

Mahnoor sat up, her expression defiant. "Kyu nahi karne dega? Har company pe uska raaj thodi hai," she said, puffing out her chest in mock bravado. "I'll find another job. But before that, tomorrow, I'm going to throw my resignation right in that Mogambo's face!" Her eyes sparked with the image of her imagined victory. (Why wouldn't he let me? It's not like every company is under his rule.)

"Okay, okay," Sara said, trying to diffuse her friend's temper before it escalated any further. "But do that in the second half of the day; you are coming with me in the morning."

"Where?" Mahnoor raised a brow.

"I have an event tomorrow."

"And what will I do there?"

"You could help me, and if it will lift your mood too," Sara said straight. "I don't want to hear anything; I'll pick you up from your street's corner tomorrow," she ordered.