~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 14: Stay
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sahil Video on Google Vids - Stay With Me
Two Weeks
Later . . .
Loud
music filled the room, coupled with the raucous laughter of friends and family
as they enjoyed the food and company. Streamers of garlands hung from the
walls, scenting the air with their perfume. Lights twinkled in horizontal
columns down the walls and pillars, lighting up the room.
Haya
carefully finished the mehndi design
on Sanam's hands, smiling at the quiet joy she saw in her cousin's face today. "Now,
for the most important bit," she said, carefully placing an "A"
in the space expressly left for that purpose. "Happy? I did your mehndi just like I promised you I
would."
The room
was filled with family and friends, but, for the moment, it was just the five
of them sitting on the dais and enjoying these moments of solitude. And for the
moment, Haya, Seher and Sanam had huddled together for one last session of the best
friends. The girls had never had many other friends. They'd shared their
secrets, laughed together and cried together. It had been enough for them.
"I'm
losing a second daughter! How did you plan everything so quickly, Sanam? I was
thinking months, and you got it all ready in weeks!" Zoya suddenly wailed,
the hint of melancholy that had been playing across her face all evening
finally bursting forth. "You've all been mine," she said, staring at
the three of them. "And now I have to share you."
"You
were already sharing them with us, Zoya," Dilshad Bi said soothingly,
patting her daughter-in-law's back. "It's just one more person."
"Yeah,
but these are outsiders!" Zoya wailed, immune to the logic that was coming
her way. "First Rahat."
Haya
raised a silent brow at this. She knew for a fact that Zoya Auntie loved Rahat.
"Now
Aahil," Zoya continued darkly. "When will it end?"
"With
Rehan, Mom," Seher responded, teasing her mother mercilessly. "You'll
run out of daughters at that point."
"At
least you won't be going anywhere for a while," Zoya shot back.
Seher's
face darkened. "What the . . . way to hurt a girl when she's down!"
she said acerbically, pouting at the reminder.
"It's
okay," Haya murmured quickly, moving over to place a comforting arm around
Seher's shoulders. "Uncle will give in. It'll just take him a little
longer, since Rehan refuses to force your dad's hand by taking the choice away
from him. You have me as your truly wonderful support. You're going to be my
sister-in-law. Be a little patient. Why don't we put an "R" on your
hand?" she cajoled, bending down to do the task herself. Seher gave in and
allowed herself a laugh as she watched the R take shape.
Sanam
heard the two of them in the background, but her eyes were focused on the
drying A on her own hand. A for Aahil. The haldi
had been yesterday. The mehndi today.
There were only a small number of guests, nothing near what they would have had
for a normal Khan wedding. Hundreds of people had been invited to Haya's
wedding. But these weren't normal circumstances, and everything was
deliberately low key. The people who had been invited, and the ones that had
come, were truly the well wishers of the Khan family.
But there
was one very important person missing. Aahil hadn't been there for any of it,
citing business conflicts for each and every event planned. She was beginning
to worry whether he would even show up for the nikah.
"Sanam?"
Zoya asked, disturbing Sanam's increasingly depressed thoughts. "Why did you
have to hurry things so much? You didn't even give us a chance to get used to
the idea of you leaving."
"I
had to hurry, Ammi," Sanam explained candidly. "I didn't want him to
get away."
Zoya nodded
in reluctant agreement. "I can see the validity of that. Do you have any
idea how many times your father escaped? Something would always come up! But don't
worry," she cried, seeing the trepidation on her daughter's face. "You're
going to get your man tomorrow. He won't escape. I'll even have your dad guard
the doors. That's what you want, right?"
Sanam nodded,
her eyes catching her father's as he stood at the door. Hugging her mother in
silent thanks, she got up and moved over to stand by her father at the door.
"Abu,"
she said, placing her hand in the crook of her father's arm. Leaning her head against
his shoulder, she stared into the room, her eyes moving over the family that
had made the trek from their respective homes to join them for this sudden
wedding.
Ayaan Uncle
was here with his family, but Abu's sisters couldn't come so quickly. Humeira Auntie
had come along with Haider Uncle, but their children had had to miss the event.
She winced, remembering the barrage of questions she had received from all of
them. They had relentlessly thrown criticisms at her, questioning her sanity
and saying that she was making a mistake. She had literally been crying the day
of her haldi until Abu had stepped
in.
". . . You're marrying a convicted murderer! Just what
are you thinking?" Ayaan barked at her. Haider Uncle stood behind him, his
arms crossed across his chest. "Have you thought this through?"
"Ayaan Uncle, please," Sanam uttered, "This
isn't the time. Guests will start coming soon. Can we talk about this
later?"
"Sanam does not make mistakes," Asad said quietly, coming
to stand beside his daughter. "She has always been a conscientious child and a
very responsible woman. If she had one flaw, it was that she always put others
before herself and her own safety. That doesn't make her insane. It makes her a
person who cares."
"But," Haider Uncle began, clearly unhappy with where Asad
was going with this.
"My daughter is an adult," Asad continued evenly. "She can
make her decisions. While we may question those decisions at times, she has the
right to choose. I would never take that choice away from her."
Sanam's eyes filled with tears at his words, seeing the
love and acceptance in his eyes. Her father might not understand the decision
she had made, but now she knew he would defend it because he trusted her.
"My daughter has chosen this man," Asad Ahmed Khan
said reflectively. "And now our only job is to find the good in him."
Asad silently
placed a supportive arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "You have to
be happy," he entreated, resting his chin on her head. "Don't ever regret this
choice."
"I
wouldn't dare," she teased back, wiping a tear with the back of one finger. "He
wouldn't dare make me unhappy."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Twenty-four
hours later, Sanam sat in her room, her eyes on her reflection in the mirror.
The bride was ready for her nikah,
but would the groom come? All of the confidence she'd shown her father last
night had disappeared. Anxiety was eating away at her, and it was driving her
crazy. This should have been the happiest day of her life, and she was unable
to control the turmoil inside.
"Just
what are you doing?" Seher demanded, coming over to stand behind her twin.
Seher was a vision in pink, a direct contrast to the deep red tones of her
sister's dress. The two stared at each other for a moment, and then Seher moved
to sit beside Sanam on the bench. "What's wrong?" She placed a
comforting hand around Sanam's shoulders.
"What
if he doesn't come?" Sanam finally gave voice to the worry that had been
eating away at her. "What if this is too
much? What if he--"
"Sanam!
Stop!" Seher barked at her, squeezing her shoulder. "This is your
wedding day. Stop thinking about all that could go wrong and focus on what's
going right. This is not the woman that I know. Rather than giving up, rather
than letting him go, you made it so that you were together. You fought the
world. You fought your family. You're a fighter. Where is that woman right now?"
"I'm
trying," Sanam cried out. "But there has been nothing but resistance
on his part. At least before, he was being very loud. But now there's only
silence. He won't even pick up my calls. What am I supposed to think? What if
he really doesn't show? What I'm sitting there, and I look through the net and
there is no one there?"
"He
stepped up to save you from scandal," Seher reminded her. "He didn't
do that just to have you face humiliation weeks later. That would kind of
defeat the purpose, don't you think?"
"Maybe he thought his job was done," Sanam
tossed back. "He never planned on marrying me. If I hadn't insisted, we
wouldn't be having this nikah
today."
"Want
me to tell you a secret?" Seher asked.
Sanam
turned to look at her, raising a brow in silent query.
"This wedding dress," Seher murmured, fingering the material, "It's
in your favorite shade of red. Remember how hard it was for you to find? You
wanted this exact shade, but none of the stores you went to had just the right
color . . . just the right dress that gave you that feeling you were looking
for."
"That's
why I'm so happy you and Haya came across it," Sanam murmured, staring
down at the cloth. "This is exactly what I wanted. It makes me truly feel
like a bride," she admitted with a blush.
"That's
because it's a present from your groom," Seher said. "I told Rehan about
you obsession with finding the perfect dress."
"You
mean," Sanam began uncertainly, touching the material with reverence.
"He
asked for the details and took care of it," Seher confirmed with a big
smile. "He will be here because he made sure you were ready for the nikah."
Sanam's
eyes widened at those words, her heart feeling lighter.
Seher got
up and carefully took Sanam's dupatta
and draped it over her head.
"Dulha aa gaya! Dulha aa gaya!"
Sanam's
eyes met Seher's in the mirror, a relieved smile growing across her face.
"Looks
like your prince charming is here," Seher quipped. "Now, I'll be out
there and taking care of the wedding party. Just remember, the one thing you
were worried about didn't happen. He's here. Nothing else can go wrong."
Sanam
nodded, silently watching her sister leave the room. She really had been
worrying for nothing.
. . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . .
Aahil
stood in the doorway of his home, staring the closed doors in front of him. He
was dressed in the groom's sherwani, and
everything was ready. Rehan and Lateef were gathered outside with the rest of
the wedding party, all raring to go to the bride's home.
The only question
now was whether he should follow through on this. He clenched his fingers into
fists. The nikah was never meant to
happen. He'd only intended for the
engagement to be announced, and then for the pretend relationship to quietly
fade away without any comments. He hadn't even given Sanam a engagement ring,
and now they were getting married!
"Are you insane, Sanam? What is this I'm hearing about
Aahil Raza Ibrahim? He might be the Nawab of Bhopal, but he was in jail for
murder. You're marrying a convicted murderer! Just what are you thinking? Have
you thought this through?"
He
flinched, the words that he had heard on the day of the haldi still running through his mind. He'd gone over there, giving
in to Sanam's entreaties, and had been slapped in the face with those words.
He'd seen Sanam's uncles standing over her, and his first instinct had been to charge
in and confront them . . . to get them to back off. But what right did he have?
He was the reason that she was being called insane.
And, so, the
uncertainty grew. He could no longer fight the doubts that were eating away at
him. Most people would be celebrating at this moment in time, but he couldn't.
For a brief moment at the dargah, he
had bought into the fantasy, but reality in the form of disapproving relatives
and a teary-eyed Sanam had soon intruded.
And really, where did it say that
the signs he had seen were coming from above, rather than the desperate hopes
of a delusional mind? His own delusional
mind. His mind knew now what his heart hadn't wanted to believe. She was being forced to do this.
"Bhai, what are you doing?" a voice
called out from the now open doors. Striding in, Rehan came over to stand
beside Aahil. "It's time. Everything is ready and everyone is waiting.
Let's go."
Aahil's
shoulders slumped. "Am I doing the right thing, Rehan? I don't want her to
not have a choice," he admitted starkly. "My skin crawls at the idea
of her feeling trapped. "This, all of this," he said, waving his
hands to encompass everything, "feels like a trap closing in on her. And I
don't want that for her. I was trapped for a large part of my childhood by my
father's abuse. And then I was literally trapped in jail. I would never do that
to anyone. I would never want to put anyone in that position. And I feel like
my mere existence is doing that to her."
"Sanam
Ahmed Khan wouldn't be trapped into anything," Rehan said with a suppressed
laugh.
Aahil
looked at him in surprise.
"I'm
sorry, bhai, but do you know that
woman? She's a lot like Seher, and those two know what they want and they go
after it. She wants to marry you and that is the only reason that this nikah is happening today. You had
something else planned, but Sanam wanted something else. And guess what's
happening today? I mean, did she sound depressed on the hundreds of calls she
made to you?"
"No,
she sounded very peppy," Aahil responded. "I didn't know she was a
morning person until she called me at six for yet another detail about the
wedding."
"She
made her choice when she pushed forward with this marriage," Rehan stated.
"Now, it's your choice how you're going to move forward. Will there be a nikah today or not, bhai?"
. . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . .
Rehan sat
with Aahil, his eyes trained on the other man. Aahil was nervous, anxious about
something. Rehan knew it, but Aahil bhai
had shut down after their conversation at the door of their home. When he
thought that Aahil would run, his brother had actually put on his sehra and headed for the Khan Mansion instead.
His eyes
moved over the blue of his brother's sherwani,
the back and gold of the scarf he had draped over his shoulder and his arm. The
sehra now covered his face, so all
expression was hidden, but he could see Aahil's stress through the tense
muscles and clenched hands.
For a moment,
he allowed himself to be distracted by the decorations in the home itself. Garlands
hung on the wall, side by side with streamers of light. Red flowers and
blinking white lights covered every surface of the room, most likely in an effort
to match the beauty of the bride herself. Family members and friends had
arranged themselves around the room, and most of them were even smiling.
He saw
Zoya Auntie and Dilshad Bi directing the staff in their efforts to keep all of
the guests well-fed and happily hydrated. He saw Seher's dad standing to the
side, arms crossed over his chest; he was standing between two men, who Rehan
assumed were family, since they wore identical expressions of mild discontent. It
seemed that some of Sanam's family still wasn't quite happy with this union.
Turning
his eyes back to Aahil, hoping to distract him from that discontent, he saw his
brother reach into his pocket for his phone. He saw Aahil glance at it, and then
pick it up, despite the fact that he had already taken his seat on one side of
the net screen and was now waiting for the bride to enter the room.
Hanging up
the phone, Aahil signaled Lateef over and whispered something in her ear. Giggling
with gaiety, Lateef ran to the front door and ushered someone into the room.
"What
are you doing?' Rehan murmured softly to his brother. "Can't you see this
is not the time to conduct business? Things are tense enough as is. Don't push
it," he urged, knowing his brother would always push the envelope because something
inside of him needed to do that.
"She's
beautiful."
He heard
the murmurs around him, pulling him out of his own little panic attack. Turning
his head, he saw Sanam coming down the steps, a ghoongat over her face. Seher was by her side, and she caught his
gaze. Smiling cheekily at him, she raised her chin questioningly towards Aahil.
Looking back at him, he saw that his brother was distracted by the dapper
little man at his side.
"What?"
Aahil yelped, turning to glare questioningly at the man, one hand coming up to
push aside the flowers covering his face.
The
little man nodded, shrugging apologetically.
Taking a
deep breath, Aahil brusquely nodded and gestured for the man to go away. Turning
to look back in front of him, Rehan saw Aahil's gaze catch the fluid movement of
the bride as she walked to her side of the screen and begin the process of
carefully settling down, with Haya and Seher there to help her.
"Bhai?' he asked questioningly, leaning forward.
"What was that about?"
Aahil
shook his head, letting the flowers fall across his face once more. And he sat
there quietly, as the maulvi sahib
came over and began to make dua
before the nikah.
"Janab Aahil Raza Ibrahim, wald Raza Ibrahim, kya
aapko yeh nikah qubool hai?"
There was
no response as the seconds ticked by.
"Aahil
bhai," Rehan prompted, clutching
at the other man's arm. Pulling at it,
he forced Aahil to come out of whatever reverie he had fallen into.
"Hmm?"
Aahil asked, turning to gaze at him from under the flowers.
"The
maulvi sahib is asking you a very important
question," Rehan ground out.
"Janab Aahil Raza Ibrahim, wald Raza Ibrahim, kya
aapko yeh nikah qubool hai?"
Aahil
straightened and took a deep breath. "Qubool
Hai."
"Janab Aahil Raza Ibrahim, wald Raza Ibrahim, kya
aapko yeh nikah qubool hai?"
"Qubool Hai."
"Janab Aahil Raza Ibrahim, wald Raza Ibrahim, kya
aapko yeh nikah qubool hai?"
"Qubool Hai."
The maulvi sahib
turned and went to the other side of the screen, and began to ask the same questions
of the bride.
Rehan saw Aahil's profile and saw Aahil smile when Sanam
practically yelled the final qubool hai.
He nudged his brother to get up and go to the screen for the public unveiling.
The two stared at each other across the net, and, not for
the first time, he wondered what was going through his brother's head. Because,
instead of relaxing, now that the vows had been made, he saw his brother walk
away and the smile on Sanam's face disappear.
"Just what are you thinking, Aahil Raza Ibrahim?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
The
wedding was over, the rituals complete. The vows had been spoken, and the
commitment had been made. The look on her face when she had said those vows . .
. the determination with which she had gazed at him had moved him . . . shaken
him . . . scared him.
Could he
hold out? Could he do what needed to be done? Could he do what he had decided
just days ago, a decision that had been solidified hours ago, in the midst of
the party, as their wedding pictures had been taken?
"Stop!" a female voice commanded,
a figure jumping in between him and his bedroom door.
Aahil
blinked, his eyes widening to see both Seher and Haya now standing in front of
him, blocking his path. "What?" he began, clearing his throat.
"What are you two doing here? Where did you two even come from?" He
stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It's
your wedding night," Seher said cheekily. "Do you think we'd let you
go to your bride so easily?"
"You
have to pay the toll," Haya explained, laughing softly at the surprise she
saw on his face. "Come on! You can't be surprised by this," she
protested. "Every groom has to go through this."
"Grooms
with female relatives willing to do this," he reminded them softly.
"I didn't. . ." his voice trailed off, as a the lump in his throat
made it impossible to speak any further.
Seher
and Haya both paused at this, their eyes blinking as they heard the suppressed
emotion in his voice. "Well, who says that you don't have female
relatives?" Seher demanded. "We're here."
"You're
the bride's sister," Aahil told Seher sardonically. "And you are her
cousin," he pointed out, turning to Haya.
"I'm
also your sister-in-law in all but name," Seher threw back at him, raising
her chin in silent challenge.
"And
I'm your sister," Haya proclaimed.
He
turned his gaze to her, raising a brow in silent question.
"My
brother is your brother," Haya murmured. "Therefore, you're also my bhai, right, Aahil bhai?"
A
reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he desperately swallowed
the lump that was growing in his throat. This brother-sister duo was going to
be the death of him. Sometimes he just had to wonder where all of that faith in
him came from? Why were they so trusting?
"Now,
pay up," Seher said, putting out a demanding hand. "You don't get to
see your beautiful bride until you bribe the gatekeepers," she declared gleefully.
Reaching
a hand into his pocket, he pulled out his money clip. As he began peeling the
bills off, a feminine hand came out and pulled the clip entire from his grasp.
"Thank
you, Aahil bhai!" Haya yelled as
the two ran off with promises to put the money to good use.
Shaking
his head at their shenanigans, he opened the door and stepped inside. He froze
on the threshold, his foot raised forgotten in the air.
Sanam sat on the bed, her eyes downcast.
The red outfit . . . the golden jewelry . . . the dark color of the mehndi . .
. the blush on her cheeks all bespoke the splendor of a newly wedded wife. She
literally took his breath away. It didn't matter that he had seen her minutes
ago, because her mere appearance in his home . . . in his bedroom made him
literally stumble on air. Sanam . . . had been poetry
in motion . . . dazzling any way you looked at her . . . she was the keeper of
his heart, which he could admit at least in his heart, and quite a manipulator.
She
jumped slightly at the noise he made landing clumsily into the room. Raising
her incredibly long eyelashes, she stared at him inquisitively. She saw him
gazing back at her quietly, his eyes almost devouring her in their intensity. His
eyes were focused solely on her to the exclusion of all else. Blushing lightly,
she wondered if he even saw the
decorations that adorned the room.
Did
he see the flower canopy comprised of her favorite flowers above the bed or the
twinkling lights placed along the walls? Rehan and Lateef had gone all out for
their sej. When Seher and Haya had
snuck in to take care of the decorations, believing that the men wouldn't think
of something like this, they had been amazed to see what had been done. Seher
had even been a little disappointed.
Sanam
saw him shake his head. She saw him look away. Tilting her head to the side,
she watched Aahil walk to the other corner of the room. The fact that he
stepped past the table laden with food without a second glance made her realize
that he didn't see the food either.
He
turned and walked back towards the bed, and she stiffened. Her heart began to
beat rapidly, her lungs finding it hard to get the air they needed to breathe
as he moved closer. Would he sit on the bed? Would they talk now? Would this be
the beginning she had been s--
"I'm
leaving," he said abruptly, as he came to stand at the foot of the bed.
"What?" she asked, jerked out of her musings by his words.
"I'm
leaving," he repeated.
"What?"
she repeated.
"I
said I'm leaving," he said slowly. "What is wrong with you? Are you okay?"
"You're
leaving on my wedding night," Sanam responded curtly. "And you think something
is wrong with me?"
"Our
wedding night," he inserted.
She
snorted. "At least you admit it."
"Admit
what?" he said in exasperation.
"That's it our wedding night. How can you even think that you can just leave
me. Just stay, Aahil. That's all you have to do," she urged softly. "You
just have to stay with me." She clenched her fingers into fists, hoping
that the words would be enough.
He
turned away, shaking his head in rejection of her plea. Walking to the armoire,
he began to pull clothes out. She silently watched him place the clothes into a
suitcase, his attention seemingly focused solely on the task.
She
pulled the dupatta off of her head,
and quickly got up off the bed. Striding over to him, she grabbed him by the
arm and forced him to meet her gaze. "What are you doing?" she
demanded, irate beyond belief.
"I'm
le-," he began.
She
glared at him, silently daring him to repeat it.
"I'm
going on site for a project," he explained. "The company has to finish the Diamond
Plaza in the next two months, but delays have put us in danger of going over
the deadline. I'm going on site to ensure completion so that the penalty
doesn't cut in," he said brusquely, zipping up the bag and reaching out to
grab the handle.
She clutched at his arm with her sharp nails, making him wince at
the pain. "Was this your plan all along?" she asked incredulously.
"We were going to get married and you were going to leave?"
"No," he interjected.
"Right," she said with a snort." Looking around the
room, she smirked angrily before turning back to him. "Then why this?"
Sanam growled, pointing to the decorations. "If you were going to cheat me
out of a wedding night, why bother with the sej
and the decorations? Why bother with this," she said, pointing at her dress. "Why make me hope?"
"Rehan
went crazy," Aahil explained with difficulty. "Lateef helped. I
didn't really intend . . ."
"You
were courageous enough to marry me today," Sanam interrupted in
frustration. "Then why be a coward now? You're my husband. I'm your wife.
We said 'qubool hai' to each other!"
She pulled him closer, her lips inches away from his. "Do you really think
this is the right way to start our marriage?" She breathed the question
against his lips.
"Some
things just aren't meant to begin," Aahil finally muttered, entranced by
her beauty once more. Sanam was beautiful on any normal day, but to see her as
a bride, his bride, was heart wrenching. Stepping back abruptly, he pulled his
arm out of her hold. Picking up the bag, he strode towards the door. "I
have to go," he said, stopping at the door. "and maybe while I'm
gone, we can think about what we want from this marriage. Both of us."
"If
you're going to be doing all of that thinking," Sanam snapped back, her
chin raised defiantly, "Then think about making this a real marriage!"
He shook
his head, firming his jaw, even as a muscle ticked along its fine line.
Glancing down at the phone he had in his hand, he looked back at her. "There
are a lot of rooms in this house. I have nothing to hide from Rehan. Pick any
one of them for the time you will stay here."
She stood
there, her eyes staring bleakly at his retreating back before looking down at
the mehndi in her hands. Her eyes burned
with unshed tears, blurring out the A that had been written there with such high
hopes.
The
twinkling lights . . . the red flowers, what had seemed like a fairy tale
moments before was now just sad and garish. At this moment, she felt so small.
Had she
really trapped him into this marriage? Was this how things would be? Her reputation
meant nothing. She would have gotten through the scandal, and her family had
enough clout to squelch any long-term effects of the rumors. She hadn't wanted
to trap him, but he would never have succumbed otherwise. That was just the
kind of man he was. She'd never thought that he would regret it so soon. She' d
thought that if he gave their marriage a change, then he would give them a
chance.
She
angrily brushed away her tears, and firmed her lips with determination. She
wasn't some doormat that he could place somewhere and forget. She wasn't going
to play along. This was his house. He would have to come back at some point.
She'd be
here waiting. Having made his house into a home.
||
||
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Chapter 15 - You Are
A/N: Chapter 14 for your reading pleasure. Sorry for the long wait, but I hope there are readers still out there. 😆 As always, please leave a comment if you like it.
Edited by darkice7_12 - 7 years ago
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