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𝓘 𝓕𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓔𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝔃𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓽 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓮.

Sahar let a soft chuckle hearing the fight of the children playing in the street. They looked adorable fighting as she waited for her friend Ramsha near her home. Ramsha became her friend in a café. She gazed at them, who were playing cricket."I will do bating. You will do balling. Last time, it was I who did balling. Let me do bating now." Wearing a pastel purple t-shirt, an eleven-year-old boy with fair skin tone and doe chocolate eyes argued.

"The place you are standing is my street. My home is here but yours isn't. Your home is in the street next from here." The latter fought. A tan-skinned tall eleven-year-old with smokey eyes. "I hope you never became a captain in any team." The boy wearing the purple t-shirt threw the ball away. "Because you would the worst in taking decisions and the team will suffer for your stupidity." He walked out of the street raging in anger, some of the boys who were standing around ran behind him. The latter rolled his eyes at his words. She felt bad as she sighed.

Sahar took the ball which stopped near her foot. He came near her. "Please give me the ball." Sahar simply stared at the ball and an idea popped up in her mind. "I will give you. It's all yours but in one condition."

He knitted his brows and asked, "What is it?" She bends at his level. "First of all, what is your name?"

"Faizaan."

"Faizaan, what if I don't give you this ball?" Sahar asked. "That's wrong, it's mine," He stated. "But you were doing wrong a while ago. This street doesn't belong to you. Nothing in this world belongs to us. We belong to Allah(SWT) and we shall return to him. Be kind to others, beta." She advised.

"I am sorry. I was wrong." He looked down. "Don't apologise to me, apologise to the boy you hurt." He nodded giving a small smile as she passed the ball. He ran to the street next to apologise. A smile spread on her face.

"Ma Shaa Allah!" Sahar heard behind her. She turned around to face him. There he stood, Shahveer Siddique. His gaze on her screamed with kindness, softness and tenderness.

She inhaled slowly looking at him. She knew him, he was her saviour, the man who saved her dignity, respect and herself. Her smile became wider. She wanted to thank him. It has been a few days since that incident occurred. She didn't inform anyone about it. She knew if she informed them about it, Izhaan would never let her go to work. He was protective about her, always. He loved her dearly but she never felt any such emotions in her lifetime towards him.

"So glad to see you here, Ms?" Shahveer asked her name at the end. "Sahar." She replied. "What a beautiful name! Myself Shahveer." He complimented. She passed a smile, "Nice name, Ma Shaa Allah!"

A moment of silence passed and she began, "Ummm... I wanted to thank you for saving me back that day, Mr. Shahveer. Thanks a lot, I owe you. You can get anything you want even any type of help from me. Please consider me if you need any kind of help." She blurted out all at once. He couldn't help but smile, he wished if he could ask what he really wants. "You're welcome, Ms. Sahar. But let me tell you one thing, you don't need to tell me if I need your help. I will definitely get it from you once needed," He declared proudly. She giggled. "Okay..."

"You live here?" He questioned as they walked forward. She shook her head, correcting her hijab which was floating in the air. "I am waiting for my friend who lives here." He nodded at her words.

"You live here?" She asked glancing at him. "No, I came here to have a look at the construction going on the apartment in the road."

"Are you the architect?"

"No, actually the building is mine." Her brows raised as he answered. "Great."

"You wanna visit?" He stopped walking and stood in front of her. "Is it near the-" before she could complete, she heard Ramsha's voice? "Sahar!"

"I am sorry, yaar. I woke up late and there were a lot of relatives at home who wouldn't let me go. If they would have seen you, they would have not let you go too," Ramsha came forward but stopped as soon as she saw Shahveer, shocked by his presence. Ramsha worked at his office as a civil engineer. "Sir?"

Shahveer shook his head constantly, signing her to stop calling him Sir. "Sir? What Sir?" Sahar questioned with knitted brows. "I mean Sir. My supervisor in the office called me too in the early morning about a project. So I slept quite late in the early morning after editing some minor changes." Shahveer grinned at her reason. She was a good liar.

"Ok! It's alright Ramsha," Sahar said. "Meet me friend, Mr. Shahveer." Sahar continued. "Hello Ms. Ramsha," Shahveer passed a fake smile to which Ramsha reciprocated.

"Alright. We are quite late now. I'll meet you again if Allah wills Mr. Shahveer." Sahar bid goodbye to him. Ramsha and Sahar went out to their destination soon after.

The evening arrived. Izhaan and Sahar decided to cook as they were getting hungry. The cooks were out as it was Sunday evening. Anam and Sahar's Nani.

"Izhaan, please! That's not how you are supposed to do it," Sahar scolded, slowly snatching the knife and took a tomato out of the basket which was kept freshly washed. "Why does shape matter, Sahar? The taste is gonna be the same. If the tomato is in a different shape, it will have the same status in macaroni."

"Izhaan, please! Everything has to be done neatly. Atleast for me, I can't withstand if things don't go properly like they are supposed to," Sahar started cutting the tomatoes. Izhaan sat on the counter, staring at his fiancé.

"I am so lucky to be your fiancé," he stated. Sahar glanced up at him and took the bowl of onions kept beside. She murmured taking the onions out and chopping it, "I don't know what makes you think you are lucky. I do not suit any stereotypes of Mami."

"You know Mumma. She never gets satisfied with anyone or anything. She is just mad at you because she didn't get to marry me with her niece," Izhaan took the peanuts kept in the refrigerator, munching it slowly as he stood near her again. "That is what I am saying, Izhaan. Anabia is a nice girl." She turned towards him as she continued, "At least she is better than me."

"Stop it yaar, Sahar. I know who is better. I really do. I know you are the best," he grunted, rolling his eyes frustrated. "I have no inheritance of any type of property. Mami thinks about your future and I do think it's important for you to listen to her. I am telling you Anabia is better for you."

"Sahar, I am not poor that I'll live with the inheritance of your family. Mumma is just trying to be in a safe place. Just because Anabia is from a rich family I'll get married to her and have her inheritance. That's just wrong. I am capable enough to live on my own." Izhaan took breaths of frustration, looking at the other side as she had started cooking.

The awkward silence didn't last long when Sahar said, "Acha. Stop giving me that vibes and go to Mamu. He might get bored outside in the hall." He laughed at her words and went outside. She shushed the thousands of thoughts beading in her mind. In the corner of her heart, she felt this was all wrong. Everything was going wrong ever since she got engaged to Izhaan and her mother's death broke her more.

• ° • ° •

"Baba please, even last time you forced me to come with you all," Meesha, Jahangir's seventeen years old daughter requested. "Please beta, we didn't have time last month. Let's go tonight please." Jahangir sat down on the couch with his files of an office.

"Nai masla kya hai?" Shahveer snaked his right arm in Meesha's neck. Smirking at her as she glared at him.

(No, what's the matter?)

"Matter is I need to go to my friends' place for group study tonight," Meesha folded her arms together and sighed. "Saal bhar toh tum padhthi rehthi ho. Ek din nahi parho gi toh bhi toofan nahi aa jaye ga," Shahveer groaned sitting on the couch beside Jahangir.

(You study the whole year. The storm will not arrive if you don't study for a day)

"I don't want to take a risk," she sat across them. As time passed, they convinced Meesha to come with them and departed to an arab cuisine restaurant.

On the other side, Sahar's family arrived too in the restaurant. "I am hungry." She cried. "We should have eaten that macaroni only. You guys are starving me."

"What to do? Your Mamu wants to feed you Arab cuisine as you are missing it. Who told you to say that you were missing Arab cuisine?" Izhaan says as he sat in the chair, Sahar opposite to Izhaan and Hashir. "I am not gonna lie by saying I do not miss them," Sahar sighed taking the menu card. "Let's enjoy before your Ammi and dadi come to the restaurant."

They ordered food and ate it together. As they ate, Anam and Shaista, Sahar's grandmother joined them. A couple of laughs and happiness raged through them as they talked about multiple things. "So when are you guys going to get married?" Hashir asked Izhaan and Sahar. Sahar looked down, awkwardly. The presence of their marriage always makes her nervous and restless.

"I don't know. Whenever Sahar agrees to," Izhaan smiled staring at Sahar.

"Honestly, I don't know either," Sahar stated. "OK, then we will decide. Let's get you two married after summer ends and let's keep it in winter because weddings in summer are hectic-"

"Hashir?"

A voice from behind stopped Hashir to talk further. He turned around to look at the person calling him. To his shock, it was the person he despised. The person who destroyed the world of his sister, Myza. They looked towards the source of the voice, with Hashir.

There he stood, Sahar's biological father, Shahnawaz Siddiqui.

• ° • ° • ° • ° •

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