Kabhi main, kabhi tum, kabhi yeh, kabhi voh

Part 1: Broken promises and unexpected encounter

Note: This is my version of the story, which starts right after episode 29, and I began writing it as soon as that episode aired. I know things take an ugly turn after that episode, with many skeletons in the closet revealed, but hopefully, everyone who has been traumatized by the later episodes, just like I have, can find comfort in my softer version of the story.

Mustafa sat hunched over his laptop at the dining table, his gaze remained locked on the screen, while Sharjeena moved quietly around him, setting the table for dinner. She cast him glances, as if waiting for him to notice her presence, but he remained engrossed in his work.

Since she'd become pregnant, Mustafa had thrown himself into his job like never before. He'd convinced himself he was doing it for her—to secure a stable future for their family—but in doing so, he had neglected the woman he was working so hard to protect. Tonight, the silence between them felt heavier than usual.

Finally, Mustafa looked up, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Everything okay?" he asked, his tone more out of habit than genuine curiosity.

She nodded, looking down at her plate, her expression closed off. Mustafa could feel the growing distance between them, an uncomfortable silence that seemed to thicken with each passing day. Determined to bridge that gap, he decided to make an effort.

"Main jaanta hu Sharjeena that I haven't been around as much lately," he said, reaching for her hand. "But let me take you to the doctor tomorrow. Main saath chalunga tumhare."

Sharjeena looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes, though it quickly shifted to cautious hope. "Are you sure?" she asked, as if afraid to believe him.

"I'm sure," he replied, squeezing her hand gently. "Just wait for me. Bas ek meeting attend karke ghar aa jaaunga phir saath chalenge. I want to be there for you and the baby."

For a moment, the tension between them eased, and Sharjeena managed a small smile. But as they resumed their meal, Mustafa knew that his promise was only the beginning of rebuilding what they had lost.

The next afternoon, Sharjeena sat on the sofa, anxiously watching the clock. Mustafa had promised, and for once, she'd allowed herself to believe him. She kept glancing at her phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. When the clock struck two, she could feel her heart sink.

He's not coming, she thought, her chest tightening with disappointment. She reached for her phone, dialing his number, but each ring felt heavier than the last, until it went to voicemail. She texted him, a brief message asking if he was on his way, but there was no response.

Her fingers tightened around her phone, a hollow ache filling her chest. She picked up her bag, fighting back tears as she left the house alone. The sun was bright and unforgiving, and she shielded her eyes as she hailed an auto-rickshaw. As they rattled through the streets, she sat quietly, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

Mustafa stepped through the door, his jacket slung over his shoulder, expecting to find her waiting. But the house was silent. He glanced around, feeling a wave of dread wash over him. He checked his phone, realizing he had missed her calls and messages.

"Sharjeena?" he called, but there was no answer.

He felt a gnawing guilt claw at him. How could I have let this happen? He imagined her sitting there, waiting, and he could feel the weight of his negligence settling on him. He had focused so much on building a future for her, but in doing so, he had forgotten to be present with her.

Mustafa sat down on the couch, running a hand over his face. He resolved to wait for her and make things right, but the uneasy feeling in his chest only grew with each passing minute.

Sharjeena's appointment went smoothly, but she barely heard the doctor's words. She was given a few pamphlets, advice about staying calm and reducing stress, and the assurance that everything was fine. But as she left the office, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

She tried to hail an auto-rickshaw, but the street was deserted. She felt the heat bearing down on her, her vision blurring slightly as she swayed on her feet.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called her name.

"Sharjeena?"

She turned slowly, blinking against the sunlight until she recognized Rehan, a colleague who had recently joined her team. It took her a moment to place him, and for a second, she simply stared.

"Oh, Rehan. Hi," she managed, surprised. "Aap yahaan kaise?"

"I should be asking you that," Rehan replied, his concern evident. "Aap theek toh hain? You don't look well."

Sharjeena hesitated, trying to steady herself. "I'm fine. Just... finished with a doctor's appointment. Vaapas ghar ja rahi thi. Toh was looking for a rickshaw."

Rehan's brow furrowed, his gaze sweeping over her. "Aap ghar jaa rahi hain? It's too hot to stand here like this. Let me give you a ride."

She started to refuse but felt another wave of dizziness. "Nahi iski koi zarurat nai hai. Rickshaw mil jaaega. I don't want to be a bother..."

"It's no bother," Rehan insisted, opening the car door. "Please, aise safe nahi hai aapka yahan khade rehna. Garmi dekhein. Just get in. I'll drop you home."

She wanted to refuse, but another wave of dizziness made her sway slightly, and she reluctantly nodded. He helped her into the car, handing her a bottle of water and cranking up the air conditioning. She sipped the water, leaning back into the seat as she felt some of the tension melt away.

"Thank you, Rehan," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Anytime. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

Back at home, Mustafa paced the living room, his phone in hand as he contemplated calling her again. He had a view of the street from the balcony, and when he saw a car pull up, he squinted, trying to make out who it was.

He froze as he saw a man he had never seen before get out of the car and come around to open the passenger door for Sharjeena. She stepped out slowly, her face pale, and he instinctively moved closer to the window, his fists clenching.

Who is that guy? he wondered, his heart pounding with an uncomfortable mix of jealousy and dread. He watched as Rehan exchanged a few words with her, concern on his face, before getting back in his car and driving away. Mustafa's jealousy flared; his mind was racing with questions.

As Sharjeena walked in, she caught sight of Mustafa waiting for her, his arms folded, tension radiating from him.

"T-tum mil aain doctor se. S-sorry main late ho gaya thoda. Kaisa raha appointment?" he asked, trying to keep his tone casual, though he could feel his words tremble.

She didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she handed him the report indicating him to see the results for himself, brushing past him and heading towards the bedroom. Mustafa glanced at the papers, but they didn't hold his attention; his thoughts were on the man who had just dropped her off.

"Voh kaun tha Sharjeena?" he asked, following her into the room, his voice tight with tension. "The guy who drove you home?"

"Rehan," she replied, her tone flat. "Colleague hai ek office mein."

"And he just happened to drive you home?" Mustafa pressed, trying to mask the jealousy simmering beneath his words.

She turned to face him, her expression tired. "I was trying to get an auto, par nahi mil raha tha. Garmi se chakkar aa rahe the. Voh guzar raha tha vaha se and he offered to help. It was either that or waiting in the sun until I passed out."

Her words hit him like a punch, and he stepped back, guilt and jealousy swirling together. "I'm sorry," he murmured, unable to meet her gaze.

She shook her head, moving past him. "Mujhe change karna hai. Please... just give me some space."

As she shut the door, a wave of helplessness washed over Mustafa. He realized that his jealousy had been misplaced, but he also knew that his own actions had driven a wedge between them. He stood there, feeling the weight of his mistakes and wondering how he could possibly fix what he had broken.