"You guys ain't together anymore?"

"Don't tell me you guys broke up?"

"It was going to happen, we saw this coming."

"You two don't really make a good one anyway."

"He was toxic,"

"You guys were GOALS."

"You must be feeling terrible."

And she was.

She was broken.

She was lost.

She shattered with her pieces scattered all around and nowhere to be found.

Tragedies of breaking your heart so early in life, it's not only your heart that was broken.

It was your self-esteem ruined.

Your dreams busted.

And all the plans you made once were just crushed down.

And it's not a relationship of just a few months.

For Mishkhat Khawar and Hamza Sayyed had a love tale of quite long years.

At thirteen, she first saw him at the school auditorium.

At fourteen, she saw him walking through the book alleys of the library.

At fifteen, she was his lover.

At sixteen, she was his pillar.

At eighteen, she was his frustration cabin.

Not a good day, scream at Mishkhat!

Not a good paper, scream at Mishkhat!

Not a good practical, scream at Mishkhat!

And Mishkhat Khawar had bear it all, without a single complaint.

For she was in love with him.

And now when she thinks about it, she laughs at that stupid girl.

Being in love is okay, but blind love is not. Hers was the latter kind.

"You just left after that." Hamza's voice brings her back to the present from her wonderland.

The steaming cup of chai in her hand gave her some essence of warmth in the whole day in his home.

His home never fit into her definition of comfort.

Never will.

"After our break up?" She asked with a raised brow as she saw him leaning to the bannister of the terrace.

He nodded, she didn't miss the pang of regret floating in his dark onyx eyes.

She shook her head and said, "I couldn't stay here anymore. The people around us made it overbearing for me."

"You just cut people off."

"I had to. For them, you are the ideal boyfriend. I didn't want to ruin that image."

"I was nowhere near that. I was always been a terrible lover.

"Took you long to realize." She said looking into his eyes.

A silence embraces them after that.

A silence not choking one neither comforting one.

Something that's just there because there's nothing to talk about more.

But there is so much.

In their week-old marriage, this is the first time they're actually talking to each other. The last time it didn't end up well. Hamza ruined his chance if there was any, to begin with, all at once.

For he was curious about her medicines. For that, he sneaked inside her purse and searched for those, then googled them! They turned out to be contraceptive pills. He lost it then and there.

"You are on contraceptives?" He yelled not minding his tone, not looking at her flinching at that.

She saw the strip on his hand, she gritted her teeth, "how dare you touch my purse?"

"Answer my question Mishkhat. Why the hell are you on contraceptive pills?"

"What do you mean why they are there? These are contraceptives why do you think they would be there?"

"To prevent pregnancy but I haven't even touched you damnit.

"Freaking hell Hamza Sayyed. What the hell is wrong with your shithead? Contraceptive pills are not only for pregnancy prevention, I have PCOS, these are for that." She screamed at him and almost slapped him.

Almost.

She so wished she had but she somehow, with the power of seven heavens, prevented herself from doing the deeds.

"Oh." That's it.

"You don't even know PCOS? Do you?" She wasn't even surprised at this point.

Hamza Sayyed can never be someone she ever wants to spend her day with, let alone her whole life.

"I can google it."

"You should google and next time don't touch my things, ever."

And with that, she had walked out of the room.

That was three days ago and now they are here.

"Amma said you made tea for her again." He said not exactly looking at her, not exactly enjoying his coffee.

His blank coffee without sugar.

Too bitter for her liking.

Too late for him to realize that.

"She was having a headache again and your sister isn't home." She said shaking her as if it doesn't matter, as if it's nothing.

"You are just..."

Just making her place in their lives without even trying.

Just the way she would make the morning breakfast even when no one really looked at what she is eating. Whether she is or not.

Just the way she would make the evening tea for his mother.

Just the way she would greet the guest. Mishkhat Khawar is making her place in his home without even trying.

And that's something always been that way.

For Mishkhat Khawar always had this trait of making her own place without even trying.

Like the way, he saw her first years ago.

Like the way, he just fell for her.

Likes the way, she was not a family member then yet she remembered each and every habit of his more than himself.

At seventeen, he first saw her walking through the door with the spotlight falling upon her.

At eighteen, he saw her in the library following her.

At nineteen, he was her best friend.

At twenty, he was her everything.

And he ruined it all.

"Just what?" She asked and he just shook his head. He can't voice it.

"You are leaving tomorrow?" He asked looking at her in the hope to deny that but she just nodded.

"I think it's time for me to leave,"

"Is there someone else?" He couldn't help but ask, quite abruptly.

"What?" She was shocked, the question came out of nowhere.

"The one in your lock screen?"

"You even sneaked my phone?" She wasn't even shocked this time.

"You never tried to hide it anyway."

"Why would I?"

"So he is?"

"A friend. A really close one."

"If we really never get separated will you be marrying him?"

"Your question has too many assumptions in there." She said shaking her head.

"I need to know where I actually stand in your life Mishkhat." He almost pleaded.

He need to where he stands in her life. He just need to.

"You are just my husband, I am forced to marry to because my stupid cousin Nadiya got some cold feet."

"And nothing more?"

"An ex-lover, if that you want to be." She wasn't joking, she wasn't serious either.

"You didn't answer my question. Will you be marrying him?"

"If you are asking this because now your ex-fiance is back, don't fret about me." And with this Hamza Sayyed felt the world sliding away from his feet.

"You knew?"

"She is my cousin Hamza."

"I am sorry but trust me she is just, I don't know. She just ran away and everything got messed up."

"I really wish she hadn't."

"Sometimes I just wish it didn't happen to begin with." Sad smiles and guilty sighs.

"I'll be sending the divorce papers soon Hamza, and with her coming soon here, I really hope you will do what's needed."

"I wanted to give us a chance Mish." He said looking at her, with pain, with regrets.

"We had our chance Hamza, and it was ruined." She said with her eyes fixed at the void sky.

"What if Nadiya wouldn't have come back?" He asked.

"I would have left then too. I was leaving anyhow." She said truthfully.

"And he is the reason?"

"He isn't the reason Hamza." She shook her head, he isn't going to let it go.

"Who is he?"

"Ibrahim Ali. My friend, and nothing more but that's something I was never going to tell you." She answer was simple, not detailed, not empty.

"Mishkhat if we are really parting our ways, I want you to settle down with someone too. I know this society."

"I will live through this Hamza, don't fret about me."

She will.

She definitely will.

"You are my wife. I do care about you."

"You never cared about your girlfriend though."

He never did.

The days she had been waiting for him for hours and he never showed up.

The nights she had up till the wee morning hours and he never called her.

He never picked her up on time, let alone dropping her off somewhere.

He never cared.

In his defence, that was a casual something, marriage is a serious institution.

Too bad, love isn't.

Love is always serious.

Even in a causal relation, even in a marriage.

Always, everywhere.

"I really thought we can work this out this time."

She looked at him and finally sighed, "Remember the place we met the last day?"

"The south park cemetery. That was a great place." He laughed at her weird choice of breakup.

She called him to be there, he was there on time, they ended up their thing there and she walked away.

"And you failed to read in between the lines again." She whispered almost her voice cracking, but she wasn't crying, she is just looking at him.

"What?" He gulps.

He failed her again.

"You just missed what a cemetery symbolises. Death. Graveyard of love. The end of something beautiful that'll stay as a memory forever and beyond."

And he steps back.

He gasped.

She gave him a smile.

A smile so painfully and he wanted to dig his own grave then and there.

Mishkhat Khawar should never let go of her facade in front of him.

Hamza Sayyed could never abide her profound emotions.

Their love died long back.

And the loss is profound now.

________

After this tell me what should I write I have some ideas.

1. Hidden Marriage trope

2. Some mushy romance

3. You tell me!

Till the next time.

Much love.

Kefimysa.