11| for our daughter

HAPPY NEW YEAR, PATOOTIES

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ZEESHAN'S POV:

I blinked three times, trying to absorb the sight before me, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me. There she was—Waniya.

The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning, and my heart raced. She glanced down at Ezzah, who had been comfortably nestled in my lap just moments before, her innocent laughter still echoing in my ears.

For a heartbeat, Waniya stood frozen, her expression a mixture of disbelief and surprise, her eyes darting between Ezzah and me.

Her best friend leaned in, whispering something that I couldn't catch, and in an instant, Waniya slowly descended the stairs, her movements deliberate yet hesitant.

Every step felt heavy with unspoken words, and I could feel my breath quickening, each inhale a struggle as a whirlwind of emotions churned within me.

"Grumpy pants, are you okay?"Ezzah gently tapped my leg, pulling my attention down to her. When I met her gaze, I couldn't help but notice that her eyes mirrored my own— deep and expressive, filled with an unspoken understanding.

Shifting my focus to Waniya, I realized her complexion had lost its usual energy; she appeared almost ghostly, a stark contrast to the vividness I remembered.

Ezzah, too, resembled Waniya in subtle ways, as if they were reflections of one another, connected by a shared heritage that transcended time.

The similarities were striking, yet there was an undeniable weight of emotion hanging in the air, intertwining our senses of identity and memory.

Is Ezzah my daughter? The thought gnawed at me, swirling in my mind with a sense of disbelief. Perhaps there was a chance, but then again, it was hard to accept.

No, it couldn't be. If she were truly my daughter, Waniya would have been the first to tell me. The weight of this possibility pressed down on me like a heavy stone, and I felt as if my mind might explode from the sheer intensity of the questions racing through it.

Ezzah had mentioned that her father was dead, a statement that lodged itself in my brain and tangled into the chaos of my thoughts. These relentless questions were suffocating, tightening their grip around my chest.

Just then, the sounds of clapping and cheering burst through my reverie, breaking the suffocating silence and momentarily distracting me from my spiraling worries.

She got engaged to my rival. To Shayan. Does she not know about him? Why did she leave me? I looked at her and she said something to her friend Irha — wait, is she Mirha Masood?

Mirha came and took Ezzah with her. A glass appeared in front of me. I looked and it was Farhaan.

"Have it," he offered and I did. "You don't look okay, we should leave," he said. I shook my head. I can't leave; not until she responds to my questions. The tension in the air was thick, and an overwhelming urge to take her with me tugged at my heart.

Yet, the reality was that she was engaged to my rival, a harsh reminder of the gap between us. She stood there, her expression serious and devoid of joy, while Shayan, her fiancé, wore a wide grin that seemed almost mocking.

Confusion swirled in my mind, a storm of emotions leaving my head spinning. What was going on?

Waniya stood before me, her beauty as captivating as I remembered. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall, shimmering in the soft light, and her eyes sparkled with a depth that drew me in.

Memories flooded my mind weaving a tapestry of our past together.

I noticed her walking briskly away, her best friend by her side. Curiosity piqued, and I decided to follow. The aroma of dinner wafted through the air as I glanced over at Shayan, who was surrounded by his friends.

I carefully positioned myself behind a sturdy pillar, my heart racing as I observed them disappearing into a dimly lit room. Just then, Mirha stepped out and seizing the moment, I slipped into the room, my pulse quickening uncertainty.

WANIYA'S POV:

Him.

It's him!

Ezzah was in his arms, smiling. He was holding our daughter. As soon as he caught sight of me, I noticed a change in his demeanor; his muscles tensed and contracted, the tension evident in the way his shoulders squared and his jaw clenched. Ezzah was happy with him.

The sudden urge was to go to him and hug him tight.

I saw him after years, after six years of moving on from him and here he stood right before me.  What was he doing here? Is he Ezzah's teacher? Or Shayan's friend? I was zoned out when Mirha brought me back.

The engagement took place, and I was too numb to even react to it. I asked Mirha to bring Ezzah. He wasn't holding Ezzah anymore.

Ezzah nestled securely in his embrace had features strikingly similar to his own; their shared genes were evident in the way her sparkling eyes mirrored his deep gaze and the curve of their noses.

The resemblance was a testament to their connection, a blend of genetics and familiarity that was hard to ignore.

I chose not to reveal the extent of their relationship. I won't. What if he takes her away? No, no, it can be. Waniya, Calm down.

I told Mirha to take me somewhere I could breathe. She took me to one of the rooms of the venue. Everyone was busy eating. Shayan went towards his friends.

I heard someone entering the room and locking it. I turned around.

Him.

He stood there, a few paces away, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made the air around us feel electric. His eyes were wide, filled with a mix of disbelief and urgency, as if he were afraid that the slightest blink would cause me to vanish into thin air.

The tension hung between us like an unspoken question, and I could sense the weight of his thoughts pressing down on the moment, intensifying the silence that enveloped us.

"Trèsor," a mere whisper left his mouth, and he took a step towards me. Needles prickled my throat, I wasn't able to speak. Tears formed in my eyes. I didn't want to cry.

"Waniya, it has been six years. Kahan thi tum? Kitna dhonda Maine tumhe. Kahan chali gai thi. Ab nhi jane don ga," he wiped the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. It breaks my heart to see him cry. To see him this vulnerable.

(Waniya, it's has been six years. Where were you? How hard I have searched for you? Where did you go? I won't let you go, now.)

I opened my mouth to say something.

"Bas chup hoke khadi ho jao aur mujhe tumhe dekhne do, if it's a dream I don't want to end it," his eyes turned soft. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks.

(Just stand still and let me see you. If it's a dream I don't want to end it.)

I didn't say a word. Why now? Why has he come now when I am engaged to someone else? Someone who's not him!

"I'm engaged, Zeeshan," I said. A hurtful expression formed on his face.

"Why did you leave me, Waniya?" He questioned. I remained mute.

"Is Ezzah my daughter?" His question made me forget how to breathe. I don't want him to know.

"No." I lied. "Don't you dare lie to me, Waniya," he yelled. "She ain't your daughter. She's Shayan's daughter," my heart shattered when I lied.

"Then why aren't you married to him?" He asked. Because I was waiting for you.

I had no answer to his question. I wiped my tears remembering why I left him. "Go away, Zeeshan go away," I said. Stay!

"Waniya, listen to me. We can clear things out," he said. My heart yearns to trust him again, to believe in the promises he's making now. Yet, I can't shake the memories of why I ended things with him all those years ago.

The pain and betrayal linger in my mind, reminding me of the turmoil I went through. I know I have the strength to continue this journey, especially for Ezzah.

She deserves peace and love, and I will do everything in my control to provide that, even if it means standing firm in my decision to keep my distance from him.

"You don't love him." He said. "I do," I lied — a white lie. I don't love Shayan. I would never love anyone but him.

"Waniya, to whom are you lying? Me or yourself?" He chuckled.

"He was there when I was vulnerable, he was there when I was alone, he was there when I was pregnant when I needed someone." I wiped my tears.

"Trèsor," he called me with the nickname that took me years back. He took a step towards me. I wanted to stop him but I couldn't.

"Don't cry, trésor," he wiped my tears, and I looked into his eyes. Not wanting to look away. "Roo nhi main huna, kuch nhi hoga," he passed me a glass of water and I gulped it down.

(Don't cry, I'm here with you.).

"Zeeshan," it came out like a mere whisper.

"Wapis agai ho nah ab kahin jane nahi dunga, yehi raho gi mere pass," he cupped my face and wiped my tears.

(You are finally here, I won't let you go. You'll stay here with me.)

"Waniya, lets go. I can't let you go. Not when I have met you after six years. Waniya bohut mushkil see ye saal guzare hain." He was trying hard - very hard not to cry but he was failing, miserably. (How hard these years were without you?)

"I'm engaged, Zeeshan," I reminded him and stepped back. I can't show him my vulnerable side. I can't.

No one should matter to me but my daughter. I had survived all these years and I would survive an eternity just for Ezzah.

For our daughter!

A knock interrupted us.

"Mama," Ezzah called. I opened the door. "Oh, Grumpypants, I was looking for you," she jumped into his arms. He's her teacher. Seeing Ezzah getting attached to her father just breaks my heart. He pecked her cheeks and she giggled at him.

"Mama, he's my grumpy pants, and grumpy pants she's my mama," Ezzah said. I nodded at her. Zeeshan looked at me and then at her.

"Mama let's go, Massi was calling you," Ezzah got down from his arms, held my hand and we went out. I could discern his gaze on my retrieving figure. I thanked God Ezzah didn't notice my eyes.

~

"Congratulations, Waniya," Aaliyana enveloped me in a warm hug, her presence radiating kindness and grace. She is the wife of Zaviyar Aqib Khan, a prominent businessman who has made a significant mark in the country's economic landscape.

I first met Aaliyana and her husband during a networking meeting that also included Shayan, where we shared insights and discussions about our respective fields.

"You look gorgeous," she said. "Liyana," here comes Ezzah. Ezzah has always held a deep affection for  Aaliyana. One day Ezzah overheard Zaviyaar affectionately calling Aaliyana "Liyana" during their conversation.

Ezzah decided to adopt it as well, and now she joyfully refers to Aaliyana as Liyana.

"Ezzah," I glared at her. Aaliyana gave me an okay look. "Did you bring Aryan?" I asked her about her seven-year-old son. Ezzah gave her a dreamy look. And Aaliyana nodded.

"He's with his Father," Aaliyana smiled. And Ezzah left us.

"How have you been?" She asked. "Okay, I guess," I tried to smile. "I know it's hard but believe me you will never be disappointed with your life," I wonder how she is so positive. Her vibe is pure and positive.

"You know I met someone, he was holding Ezzah, maybe you know him. They were looking as if —" she took a pause.

"They are father and daughter," I completed her sentence. I could easily tell, she was talking about Zeeshan. Her father!

"He's her teacher," I told her. She made an 'o' with her mouth and nodded.

"Waniya," I looked around to see Mirha. She greeted Aaliyana and we excused her. "Where have you been?" Mirha almost yelled at me. I noticed that she was flushed, a noticeable red hue covering her cheeks.

"I —," Shayan cut me in the middle. "Waniya where were you?" He questioned me. They both looked at me wanting an answer but I had nothing to say. I kept mute.

"Waniya come with me, we need to meet someone," he grabbed my hand and I moved with him. My vision was caught by someone who was not Zeeshan holding my hand with such delicacy.

My mind was too numb to give out any reaction "Waniya, Mr. and Mrs Chaudhry," he introduced me to the couple. I smiled and introduced myself. They congratulated us and left. The function was already over and everyone was leaving.

"Waniya are you okay?" Shayan was worried and I nodded at him. "Can you call Mirha?" I asked him and he nodded. He took out his phone and dialed her number.

After ten minutes, she was here with Ezzah. "Have your friend left?" I asked her. I don't know why but I wanted to know about Zeeshan.

She blushed and nodded. "We should leave," Shayan said and I nodded. I didn't say anything. Or maybe I didn't have anything to utter. An invisible knot formed on my tongue which could only be felt by me.

I wanted to sleep, but sleep was nowhere to be found. Why always me?

For the past six years, I have been engaged in a relentless struggle to confront and overcome the shadows of my past.

Despite my best efforts to move forward and leave those memories behind, I find myself facing them once again, as if they have materialized out of nowhere right in front of me.

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aesthetics

you can read Zaviyaar and Aaliyana's story on my Wattpad account THE BROWN TALE

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how was the chapter?!

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You can find spoilers related to the novel that will keep you hooked on my Instagram.

I'd: @bibliozaar (link in the profile.)

Ignore all kind of mistake as English isn't my first language!

Take care!!!

Zaar.