'Make eye contact if you really can'
.
The treacherous games of fate they are
The winds were treacherous that night, had it been any other reason she'd have jumped off the plane immediately. Had not it been mafia business or police after her husband, she'd have screamed, and let him know how disappointed she was of the circumstances that had pulled her out of their honeymoon, just as it had started. Barely even.
He could sense her chewing down her nails, absentmindedly, and scratching the seat. She hated it, and he knew it.
"I am going to take care of it," He assured. She knew he would.
She turned her face away. What if the problem was too far gone for him to even handle, his consigliore or whatever the hell he called Hammad never had that kind of urgency to his tone, he was always obedient almost like a dog is to their master, but this time he had demanded him to come to America, begged almost.
"I know you are pissed,"
She sighed. "I just want to say it,"
He sat back almost curious to what she was indicating. "You are a dumb idiot,"
"Is that the best insult you could conjure," He passed almost haughtily, as if they were in middle of a brawl, the first real one since they had gotten married. She didn't smile, just pursed her lips together in a fine line, aligning her face to intimidate him. The plane had started moving slowly, she could feel the vibration and the drag reverberate her.
"You never change do you? You are still so...self centered, I mean do you expect me to clap around while you go and get arrested?"
"I am not getting arrested," He smiled calmly. His indifference to the matter made her furious, how could he be so blind.
"I don't feel good about it, just flee somewhere, get out of here, don't go there, don't go back to LA,"
He chuckled, some kind of feisty fire brewing in him, some anger trying to rage out. "Just flee, and leave you out there at the mercy of the world, flee and leave all I had built to rot, flee and drown all hope, flee and lose you, flee and cower away like a rat? Do you think that low of me that I'd just flee,"
She nodded tiredly as if trying to understand. She couldn't, could never even if she tried hard.
"We can flee together," She held his hand, he shook her away, repulsed by her touch.
"No,"
"Why not? Do you prefer something else?"
"No because I cannot have you on the run, and I don't know why are we even fighting about it, discussing this absurdity, nothing is happening, I have had millions of such incidents and nothing has ever been proven, this time is no different,"
"But..."
"I am not discussing this anymore,"
She looked out the window, hoping for a better tomorrow, but she felt like just like the building miniaturizing so was her hope for a better tomorrow.
The plane landed in the morning, the hues spreading outwards in the stretched skies. After their arguments, she had fallen asleep. There was nothing to discuss, and she was convinced that nothing on earth could change his mind. Nothing. Not even her. He was born with this odd dose of confident, always blinding him, blinding him to see the possible. The police had uncovered his grounds, what was he even expecting? The best citizen of America award for it. With the usual causality of his tone and his constant smile upon looking at her, it sure seemed like it.
"I am awake," She muttered still furious at him.
"With the amount of snoring, hardly, love," He kissed her forehead, but just as she met his gaze, his fierce brown eyes, his orbs looking at her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, and something strange. It bugged her, the way he looked.
"Go get our stuff, Maaz." She said, trying to avoid him. Just something, in the way he looked at her made her uncomfortable. What was he looking at? Like he had something so precious, and irreplaceable, but he had to give it away. Leave her as if. She hated his look.
He smiled faintly, and moved away. The walk to the car, and the ride to their home was quiet, and she knew, he had to immediately go to his office, and she knew that she hadn't asked him how he'd slept, because he hadn't. His face was starting to age, the dark circles were evident.
He only had a sip of water, and the looked at her who herself was eyeing him in her peripheral vision, who was unnaturally too busy to look at her husband, unpacking was as if the most important thing right now.
She knew he was walking towards her, and he traced her hand with his, she jumped back, and looked at him. He held her hand back, firmly now. She looked away blinking away the forming tears. Blinking away her cowardice. Her fuck luck sixth sense. Her gore gut feeling telling her something was off. He pulled her towards himself, almost like this was the last time.
And then she was sobbing, and he was hugging her, and they were on the floor, curled up in one another. Now eerie silence, and their breaths just. Her head on his chest, and his hand protectively wrapped around her.
He faked his strength, so that she wouldn't worry, but he knew one day he'd have to pay for what he'd done, for all his mistakes. Everything had consequence. He shifted to get up. She clutched on to his shirt, for lord's sake. For her goodness, he couldn't leave her.
"Do..don't," Her voice cracked. He pulled her hand away, apologetically looking at her, what was left now. Except an apology. He, even hadn't known it coming, hadn't thought that this was it. Perhaps he did. All along.
"I am..."
"Don't, say you are sorry, because if you were sorry you'd have fled, Fled!" She punched him in the chest.
"I can't run away from myself," He seethed with clenched teeth, trying to catch her but she would just wiggle out of his grip. "You know this better than I do, it's time to redeem myself, and that's my choice,"
She huffed ironically, and she knew he was right, that he had to take the punishment, and there was no way out. Then suddenly, there were police sirens sounding outside, and telling him to come out and that he was surrounded by police and that he shouldn't be armed, and all other warning. They had good proof, very good one. About black marketing, but he was wrongfully convicted of murders, he never murdered a soul, never. He couldn't tell this to her, and he knew all too well what the sentence for that might turn out, of multiple homicides, and keeping hostages, and torchure, and it sucked enough but he couldn't prove otherwise. He could serve a life sentence.
He received a detailed email from Hammad, Hammad did however manage to cover for Danial and Shahzain, and on Maaz's insistence, he took their crimes on himself as well. All on him. It was. He was the one who created all this mess in the first place and he is the one who'd end it, by all means, even if it means the end of himself first.
He couldn't again look at her, she was petrified, as the police arrested him, cuffed him, called him dangerous, a traitor, a taint to the country, savage and a maniac. Her lips quivered as she crashed to the floor, as they took him away, and she couldn't have done any thing else, nothing. She screamed like a mad women, in one of the officers eyes sympathy did for a second cripple there as the man noted the young women's void eyes and how her shivering fingers toyed with her wedding ring.
"Madam must be taken into custody as well, we might have something's she could answer to,"
The officer said, he wasn't oblivious of the pain she felt, but really he did think this women was a little mental to have married this psychopath in the first place, now there was no need to be sulking.
In anger, she lifted her head up and spat. "You wish,"
"We might have other ways, madam," The officer warned.
"You won't have to use other ways, she will answer," Maaz's voice came and went monotonously. Her mouth opened and closed to argument, but he shook his head. "And she won't resist,"
She flinched slightly as the officer pulled her to the wagon outside, and made her sit. She was sure, to bring her into interrogation like this might be a little violent, against the rules perhaps, but she couldn't let his words far off from her head.
She will not resist.
And as easily as he'd said it, she'd manage to do it. On each of their absurd question, she answered calmly and truthfully all that she knew, all about Khawar, and she did give a statement that he hadn't murdered anyone. The police did seem decisive, but maybe it was her genuine tone that made them ponder on it.
It had been weeks living alone, in a house where things seemed so empty and useless, she even seemed useless. She felt garbage alone all the times, she had refused to go back to her parents, even on their insistence, because she met Maaz each weekend in the prison obviously, and by the looks of bloody it, he seemed put well together, while she'd sob for most of the time, itching to hold his hand. Meanwhile, Shahzain did went back to Pakistan along with Maaz's mother. She was currently living with Ayat's parents, and under some superior security, devised by Maaz's order. He did have order still, but less and less in days.
Her heart did found peace in knowing that Khawar wasn't free either that bastard was in prison as well, and under the watchful eyes of her own brother, Arsalan. Danial stayed behind to deal with the stuff here. this weekend, Danial bargained a visit from her to discuss something with him. She hadn't been really feeling well recently to argue, or to visit the prison. She felt tired and grew irritated easily, or break into a chain of endless tears. Haya insisted it be because she was alone, day and night, all by her self, she might as well be going crazy and ill.
She looked nervously at the time. 3:00 o clock in the afternoon. Danial should have called by now. He did say he had something alarming now, the phone ringed and relief washed over her.
"Dan what's up?" She asked trying to sound a little alive.
"We have evidence that the murder allegations were false, now hope the trial goes well tomorrow, but Ayat..."
Ayat shook her head, maybe in realization and anger. " I am not thick, dan. I know. I know you all can't prove wrong what he's actually done,"
"We did everything we could, but Maaz seems weirdly optimistic,"
"That man wants to kiss death," Ayat muttered. "Just make sure he doesn't so early, that idiot."
"And Ayat there is something else," He said almost sounding defensive and a little reserved as he said it. "He wants you take a pregnancy test, he thinks it's possible."
She wanted to laugh. Like hell she was pregnant. Like bloody....but...she could be. She could be, and that'll explain it all. The dizziness and the mental swirls and the waves of agitation, except from the fact that her husband was in prison, this could be pregnancy too. Might be. But she was terrified of the outcome, whichever it was. She was alone no matter.
The next morning, she went to buy a few tests just to confirm, whichever. She tapped her feet in nervous jitters, her mouth curled up in intuition, and a sob left her mouth seeing the results. She had to be brave.
After discovering she was indeed with child, the trail started. Endless arguments, loads in evidence, and the opposite lawyer calling him all sorts of names. Him looking grim and weary. He hadn't in his whole life looked so lifeless. Void of emotion, but then he saw her and something sparked in his eyes, beneath those lovely thick lashes were his brown hopeful eyes, not to shorten his sentence, there wasn't any hope in that sort, there was something much more there.
He watched her intently as her spine stiffened, and the muscles in her shoulders tensed. He noticed pain flashes on her face but his curiosity got much intense, and he held onto the railing of the block wanting too desperately to hug her, and ask her. Ask her just one thing. Would he ever be having a child, because if he was this was his chance. his only chance, because he would be serving a long time in. A long long time according to statistics, but only if the murder allegations were proved wrong that is. The trial hadn't met that end yet, but her sweat warbled in her fists. Her clenched fists. A few years without him might pass quick, but with the murder allegations it could be a life sentence, or perhaps death. Both scary. Neither satisfactory and none that'll save her from drowning in oceans of sadness.
"We hereby declare Mr. Maaz Farooq Chaudhry guilty of black marketing and illegal undercover operations, and drug dealing, thereby sentenced for 5 years imprisonment in LASD for men," The judge slammed the gavel. A few soundless tears dropped out her eyes. Now one more battle to conquer. Tell him he was going to become a father alongside being an inmate of the central jail. The treacherous games of fate they are.