22| not being enough

Sorry for the late update. Comment for new  update!!

WANIYA'S POV:

"Ezzah, don't trouble your massi or Shayan. I will be back in three days," I made her understand. I am leaving for New York because of the launch and the sudden business meet; it's basically an award kind of thing, held every 2-3 years. Last time, I met Shayan there.

Perhaps, he didn't receive any invite this time. I wonder what's the reason behind it?

"Bye, Mama," Ezzah pecked my cheeks. This was my very first time leaving her alone. Mirha and Shayan are with her, and I shouldn't worry it's a matter of three days.

Soon, I found myself settled in the back seat of the car, the leathery smell of the car reminded me of a certain someone, shrugging my thoughts. I made myself comfortable.

I hope everything goes well.

The driver took me to the airport. I got my ticket checked and made it to the boarding. I was soon done with that too. Now, I was waiting for the announcements, I

don't know why they are taking this long. Or I am early?

I was busy glancing at the people, maybe because I had nothing else to do, I could have checked my emails but I was too lazy to do that either. and I didn't want to use my phone as I avoid screen time as much as possible these days. I saw someone—someone I know—amidst the crowd at the airport.

Zeeshan.

I averted my gaze. I did not want him to be aware of my presence. Where was he heading? New York? But he has aerophobia. What is he up to? What if he's headed to the same event? No, no.

I just hope he wasn't headed to New York, and even if he was, I didn't want him to notice my presence, at least.

~

Everyone was settling on the plane. I hadn't had time to book a business class seat for myself. I looked for my seat and positioned myself. I was lucky enough to find myself a window seat.

I didn't know what I would do on an 18-hour-long flight. Maybe sleep? Use my phone? Work on something? Or maybe read a book? We'll see.

The last option seems like fun. "Waniya," a known manly voice, broke my spell. I know who it was.

Zeeshan.

I turned my head to look. "I have been calling you for the last five minutes," he tried to read my expression. I didn't want him to be here. Even if I did, that was wrong, completely wrong.

"Why are you here?" It was a very dumb question to ask, but unintentionally it rolled off my tongue. "Meet," his answer was short, I didn't mind it, though, I was grateful. It was preferable.

I didn't continue any sort of conversation. I took out the book I had bought with me. It was "A Vow of Hate." I could feel his gaze on me but I couldn't do anything about it.

After an announcement, the plane began to take off. Wait, Zeeshan has Aerophobia. Then why is he flying?

I looked at him; his eyes shut close, tightly, he gripping the armrests, his nails digging into them, his shoulders tensed.

"You are going to be okay, just breathe," I couldn't help, but held his arm and gently stroked it. His shoulders fell, maybe he was at peace now.

Still, he didn't open his eyes. "Shan—Zeeshan," I called him. He slowly looked at me. "Are you okay?" He nodded.

"You know you have Aerophobia, and you have only taken one flight before," I said, looking at my book.

"I have been on flights more than once, twice," Zeeshan said. He has taken a flight before?

"When you called me," I knew what call he was talking about. I nodded at him. "Is Ezzah okay?" He asked. I miss my baby, already.

I nodded, still reading my book. "Stop being cold, Waniya," he huffed. "That's the way I'm," I didn't lift my eyes from my novel.

I didn't want him to have anything for me in his heart. I'm engaged to Shayan, and I should stay loyal. Loyal.

"Nope, you were good before you left me," he said, unlocking his phone. "Excuse me? What do you mean by "I left you?" He triggered a nerve, which made me shut my book.

"Six years back, when you left, leaving that letter," he connected his AirPods. "I never left you; you made me leave you," I murmured; he couldn't listen, neither did I want him to hear.

Remembering what happened years ago breaks my heart. The weight of not communicating feels heavy sometimes. Maybe if I had never conceived Ezzah, things would have been okay. Things would have been different.

Shut up, Waniya. Shut up.

"Waniya, you okay?" He asked. I nodded, beating the urge to cry. I don't want to cry in front of him.

I engrossed myself in my novel, again. And I guess Shan—Zeeshan was watching something on his phone. Most probably he has downloaded something beforehand, as the internet on the plane sucks.

~

The flight is long and I'm bored already. It's been 2 hours since we got on our plane. Zeeshan is busy on his phone and I have nothing to do. I have never traveled alone. It's always with Ezzah and Mirha. And they keep me entertained.

I closed my book and placed it in my bag and took out my phone. The internet on the plane sucked. The thing I could do was to do some work but I didn't want to.

I opened my gallery, the only thing I could do. I scrolled up. I stopped when Ezzah's childhood picture caught my vision.

I miss her already. I tapped on one of the pictures, she looked adorable. Mirha had clicked the picture, it was from one of our outings. Ezzah was a year old.

"She looks like you," Zeeshan commented. I shook my head. "She looks like y—," I stopped, realizing what I was saying. "Her father," I completed.

A flicker of hurt was visible on his face. He nodded. Sorry, Zeeshan.

"Waniya, don't lie to me, please," his eyes softened. I nodded. I didn't utter a word. Or maybe I was scared; if I had opened my mouth, I would have told him the truth: Ezzah is, in fact, his daughter.

"I missed you, Waniya," he whispered, leaning his head against the seat and closing his eyes. I missed you too, Shan. I missed you too, Shan!! I missed us.

~

My eyes flickered, adjusting to the light. My head was on something hard. The last thing I remember was the airport, Zeeshan, cold, and him sleeping.

Oh no.

I opened my eyes. I had placed my head on his chest. I mentally face-palmed myself. I have no brains. I could easily tell how red I was turning because of embarrassment. Oh gosh, why me?

"Are you up?" I heard his voice. "Or do you like your pillow?" I could feel his smirk. I lift myself from his chest. And rubbed my eyes, harshly.

"Don't do that, you'll hurt yourself," he stopped me. I nodded. I didn't look him in the eyes. I couldn't take the embarrassment. And God save me from his comments, I can't take them either.

~

After eating the food, I was bored again, I wanted to talk to anyone but at the same time not to him. On no occasion I would now take long flights, alone. They give me a headache.

Ugh.

"Waniya, chocolate Khao gi?" Who the hell asks that? I gave him a questioning look.

(Waniya, would you like some chocolate.)

So he doesn't remember, "Aise kya dekh rahi ho?" He asked. Okay, he doesn't.

(Why are looking at me like that?)

"I never liked chocolates," I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, so it didn't change," he said, as if he was disappointed. "What didn't change?" I asked. "Your choices," he stated.

"They never will," truth rolled off my tongue. "So, you still love me," he didn't ask me. He said as if he was telling me.

"When did you get that?" I pointed my index finger at a tattoo on his inner elbow. It was a small treasure box.

"Oh, this, I guess, two months after you left," tears glistened in my eyes. "Did it hurt?" I asked, knowing that my inner elbows were one of the places where it pains the most.

"Not that much," he answered. "When did you move to New York?" He looked into my eyes. "When I was three months pregnant," I answered.

"Can I ask you something?" I wanted to know about someone. He hummed.

"Did you contact my parents after I left?" The question to which I never wanted an answer. I never wanted to know about my parents. I didn't love my parents, and I didn't hate them either.

Zeeshan and my parents were friends. Friends in a sense; his Dad and my Dad were classmates after years. Uncle Amjad found out that my Dad—who was a professor at a certain university—was teaching Zeeshan.

That's how I met Zeeshan. And everything went right but then...

"I went to your home; they didn't let me in and told me you were," he took a pause. "Dead." He completed it. It would be an understatement if I said I didn't get hurt—by listening to the words rolling off his tongue—but maybe deep down, under all my emotions, I knew it.

"They cut off ties with our family. They just stopped meeting us. Dad wanted to know the reason but we didn't want to interfere in their house. But I did search for you everywhere, and you were nowhere," his voice broke.

"Dad thought that the reason for their distancing was maybe they had lost their young daughter, but I knew, you were somewhere out there, safe," he completed. I fought my tears, not wanting them to fall.

"Pareshan na ho, ab sab theek hojaye ga," I heard him saying. I nodded trying hard... very hard to fight my tears. (Everything will be alright.)

During the remaining flight, we didn't talk; maybe we were trying to process the information we got to know about each other. Him getting a tattoo to remember me. Searching for me; when everyone had an idea I was dead.

My parents—I know I was a neglected child of my parents—but this just makes me question; was I even their kid?

I wanted them to love me the way they loved my brother. Maybe if I was a planned kid of my parents—then things would have been different or maybe the same I guess I'll never know.

I never think about my parents or my brother; because when I do, it makes me uneasy. Makes me feel like I'm a failure. Or a taint on their flawless name.

I feel panic rushing through my veins. My hands and feet as if they have been resting in the freezer for hours. My chest heaved up and down due to my uneven breath.

Deep breaths, Waniya. Calm down. Everything's gonna be alright. I keep repeating this in my mind like a mantra.

My vision blurred, and I hurriedly rubbed my eyes. Removing my hands from my eyes, I brought them in front of my eyes.

I was shivering. I tried to stop it, but failed, like I always do. Deep breaths, Waniya.

The next instant, I saw a hand, taking my hand in its embrace. The world around me ceased, what was happening around me? I didn't know.

The muffled voice of the Air hostess announcing something, I didn't get what. "Waniya," A known manly voice broke my spell. I looked at him.

Zeeshan.

My sight wavered; he was with me, by my side. He was here to pacify the turmoil brewing within me. He was here with me.

He was my peace in a life full of haphazard hurricanes.

"Sab theek hai. Main hu," I didn't blink my eyes. Just nodded. He didn't stop stroking my hand nor did I stop him. (Everything's okay. I'm right here.)

I hate my panic attacks. I hate myself for this vulnerability. For not being enough.

.

.

.

.

aesthetics

how was the chapter?!

.

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 kinds of mistakes, as English isn't my first language!

Take care!!!

Zaar.