It was painful.

She could feel the eyes of all of her relatives, both close and distant, staring at her. Every few minutes someone would come up to her and congratulate her on her wedding and move away as quickly as they would come. It was harsh. It was heartbreaking.

Not one of her cousins had come up. She didn't have any friends. So she sat all alone at the stage, dressed in the finest clothes and jewelry but barely able to hold back her tears.

This wasn't how her walima should've been.

It should have been fun, with all her friends and cousins coming up to tease her and never leave her side till her husband came to collect her. Her aunties should've been showering blessings upon her and her mother should've asked her over and over if she was happy with Aamir, if he had been treating her well.

Nobody came. Nobody teased. Nobody blessed. Nobody asked.

She sat with her head lowered, her cheek still hurting from Aamir's slap that had required tons of makeup to conceal. Tears sprung to her eyes.

She had heard from Sameera that the walima was meant to be the happiest day of any woman's life because the wedding day would be full of fear of leaving the family behind whereas the walima would be a celebration of the knowledge that the family the bride had married into would love her no less. There would be no crying on the walima, no sadness and no apprehension. Just pure bliss.

That was how it was meant to be. Not for her though. It didn't matter in her case because there had been no fear, apprehension or sadness to begin with. Her parents had been so happy to be rid of her. They didn't care. Aamir didn't care. Nobody cared.

What had her life become?

Mayra shook her head clear of those memories as she stood before the door of her parents' house. She couldn't bring herself to knock at it yet for her brain replayed memory after memory where her parents had made it abundantly clear that she was no more a part of their lives.

Mayra still didn't know what her the most about her parents - the fact that they chose to believe her friend's lies over their daughter's truth or their indifference to Aamir's crimes against her. Or may be both had hurt her equally bad - so great in their torment that it didn't matter which was worse. Both equally shattering, equally catastrophic.

She wanted to turn around and run away. She wasn't ready to do this. Aamir was right when he made her rethink the decision to come here by saying that just because he had reconciled with his father didn't mean that she had to do so with her own parents right away. She could take this at her own pace, deal with them when she felt ready. But she seriously doubted if she would ever feel ready enough or strong enough.

It had to be done.

Before her courage gave out she lifted her hand and knocked at the door twice.

Waiting for the door to be opened, she prayed for courage, she hoped for strength. She kept telling herself that all wouldn't magically be alright again but somewhere deep in her heart she longed to be the child that she was, loved and adored by her parents, to keep the illusion alive that the past two years had never happened.

When the door hadn't been opened for the few seconds that she was waiting, her insecurities hit back full force and she turned around, tearfully ready to leave. The moment her back turned to the door, it was flung open and she heard her mother's voice say to the back of her head, "Yes?"

Mayra froze in fear. What should she do now? Run away? Face her parents? What would they do to her, how would they react? Would she slap her again?

"Who are you? What do you want?" Maimoona snapped at the annoying woman who had knocked but wouldn't show her face.

Maimoona stood rooted in disbelief as her daughter turned around, looking unsure and scared. Her daughter had come home. She had come to her. Finally.

"Mayra?"

Suddenly, Mayra's confidence shattered and she realized what a big mistake it was for her to turn up at her parents' home. "I.. I'm sor... sorry. I just.. just thought.. I just wan.. wanted to - "

Maimoona cut her daughter off by pulling her into her arms and giving her a big hug. Both women cried, afraid to lose each other after having found themselves with so much difficulty. This moment was priceless.

Maimoona kissed the side of Mayra's head. She whispered, "I'm so sorry, my baby. I'm just so, so sorry!"

Mayra responded by hugging her mother tighter, fiercer. She couldn't speak, she hicupped.

Words failed both the mother and the daughter, each torn apart by mistrust and hatred, now reunited by love and pain. A lot was conveyed in that hug, a lot of sadness was slowly being removed, a lot of bitter history being buried for good.

Maimoona pulled back to cup her beloved daughter's face and kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry, my darling. My baby. I'm so sorry. I'm the worst mother ever. I failed you! I'm so.. so..."

"No, Ammi!" Mayra tried to stop her mother's tears. "Don't say that, please don't say that. You're a really wonderful mother."

"No, Mayra! It's because of me that you're married to that monster, it's because of me that you've had to bear such atrocities, it's because of me that you nearly died!"

Mayra shook her head and realised that they were still standing at the door. "Let's go in first. Umm.. May I.. May I come in?"

Maimoona winced at the reminder of how she had thrown away Mayra from her life and warned her never to step inside her house. "Mayra, this is your home. Always was and ways will be. Nothing will ever change that. You can come and go as you please."

Hesitantly, Mayra stepped into the house she had sworn never to set foot inside ever again in her life. But this had been so much more than just a house, it had been her home. She was born here, grew up here. Every nook and corner held a memory for her. For the introverted and shy girl that she had been, this was her safe haven.

This had been her world, their world. Her's, her mother's and her father's.

"Ammi, where.. where is Abbu?"

Maimoona looked away. "Why don't you sit down, I'll get you something to eat."

"Ammi, I'll eat later. Is Abbu home? I should meet him first."

Maimoona turned away from her and nervously started to straighten the cushions on the sofa. "Uh. Ya.. that is.. Uh.."

Mayra then noticed the house, which was in complete disarray. It was dusty and dull. She had never seen her home this way, it had always been very well kept. Mayra started to feel very suspicious. "Ammi, what's going on? Where's Abbu?"

Suddenly, Maimoona started to cry really hard. Panic struck Mayra as she whirled her mother around and demanded, "Ammi! What has happened? Where's Abbu? Is he all right?"

"He's.. he's upstairs. He's not doing well, Mayra."

"Why, what happened? Ammi! Tell me what happened to him!"

"He's severely depressed," she answered miserably. "So severe that its been affecting his heart. He's on bed rest. He's resting upstairs, he's been so quiet these days. Ever since your accident he's been wanting to see you, talk to you and bring you home and.. and.. apolo.. apologise.."

Mayra's heart sunk, her face paled and she ran to her parents' room. Tears flowed freely down her face as the fear of losing her father gripped her heart painfully. She couldn't lose him now, not when she had finally gotten him back.

She threw the door open without a care in the world for the amount of noise she made. Her father's face, a mask of such guilt and sadness that would break the hardest of hearts, burned into her eyes. He was asleep and yet sleep offered him no refuge from the magnitude of his daughter's suffering, for which he blamed himself.

"Abbu?"

The father who had stepped aside to let the world cruelly destroy his daughter opened his eyes at the sound of the voice he'd accepted he would never hear again. "Mayra?"

Maimoona appeared in the doorway to watch the moment unfold when her family was finally reunited. Rizwan hugged his daughter fiercely just as hard as Mayra held on to her father. A daughter, her father's princess, finally brought home.

"I'm so sorry, my princess, I'm so sorry!"

"Sshh," Mayra tried to shush her heartbroken father, "its ok, Abbu. Its all over now."

Rizwan looked at her and asked her, "how are you? Are you all right? I swear to God, if that scoundrel has laid another finger on you, I'll .."

"No! No, Abbu. You've got it all wrong. He's changed, he's changed so much, you wouldn't believe it!"

For the next two hours, Mayra sat beside her parents and narrated to them everything that had happened and everything that was threatening to happen to them in the face of Jaffar. Maimoona and Rizwan couldn't believe their eyes at the change they saw in their daughter, her confidence, her assertiveness and her faith, magically they all seemed like they'd been reinforced and as much as they hated to accept it, they had to begrudgingly acknowledge that the man behind it all had been Aamir.

She told them of how he'd taken care of her, protected her and pampered her. How sorry he was, and how genuinely he had been trying to save their marriage.

The biggest shock had been when Mayra denied their offer to rid her of him for life. She didn't want to be divorced because she truly believed that her future had been irrevocably intertwined with the love and the promise of happiness that Aamir offered.

She was quite willing to chance it.

Mayra was in the middle of a huge lecture to her father, who she had learnt had been quite negligent of his health, to care for himself properly when her phone rang.

Excusing herself, she answered Aamir's call. "Hello?"

"Mayra," he sounded exhausted. "Salam, Princess."

"Walaikum Assalam."

"Everything ok, darling?"

"Yes," she replied happily. "Finally, everything seems to be ok now."

Aamir smiled at the enthusiasm in her voice. He was truly happy that all her relations had come back to her. He knew how important they were for his own relationship with his father had mended because she had decided to intervene on his behalf.

"I'm really happy for you sweetheart. I'm just so glad that everything has worked out."

"Yeah, me too."

Aamir sighed and looked back at Zaheer who was tapping his foot on the floor impatiently. "Mayra, I'll be late, there's still some stuff we need to work out. Is it all right of I pick you up at around dinner time and we'll dine at some restaurant?"

"Oh ok," Mayra replied, wondering why it was taking Aamir so long and hoping they'd find a way out of the mess. "Take your time, there's no rush."

"All right, love. Salam."

"Salam."

Aamir turned to Zaheer who was looking at him as if he'd won the lottery.

"What?" Aamir asked sceptically.

"I believe," smiled Zaheer, pausing for dramatic effect, "we finally have a way to nail the bastard!"

*****