THE RINGING PHONE breaks the decor of the silence of the room, making his eyes snap open and then close. He looks at his phone and it shows five, too early for him.

For Hamza Sayyed had left his habit of waking up early in the morning five years back.

Well reason, the certain someone with hazel pair of eyes who used to wake him up early in the morning, begging him for some thirty minutes of his time, had left.

That certain someone who happens to be his wife now.

A wife whose alarm is going off and she isn't waking up, at all.

A laugh left his lips, she wasn't an early riser either, he knows that.

But still, she used to wake up early, leaving her sweet sleep just to talk to you, idiot. His inner voice snapped.

Mishkhat Khawar had always made efforts, cent per cent and sometimes even more for their relationship.

Hamza Sayyed had always made a joke of her efforts, always.

He was a certified asshole back then. He agreed.

A stir from his side, and he almost take a hold of her stupid phone to shut it off. He almost did that when he found her sitting just upright.

And damn he forgot the fine art of breathing. His wife sits up straight by his legside and almost throw her phone away with the cutest pout. Her messy bun almost falling down and her eyes were still closed.

Wait from his leg side.

Just then he noticed the sleeping arrangement. She was sleeping in opposite direction with her pillow almost falling out of bed and the blanket wrapping her as if some sleeping bed.

"Why were you sleeping like that?" He couldn't help but ask.

And she just gave him the look, are-you-seriously-asking-me-this look.

Nevertheless, having full faith in his non-existence brain cells she replied, "I am not very comfortable with sleeping with you which already sounds gross to me and it's damn irritating and you can't just expect me to next to you, I need my privacy."

"We are husband and wife." He laughed at her reasons and she just shake her head.

Some people never change, Hamza Sayyed is one of them. Ever so inconsiderate.

"Being husband and wife doesn't mean not having any privacy. Secondly, we are here for a long run." She said checking her phone.

"What if I never let you go then?" He popped down on his elbow and looked at her from the other side.

Even in the morning, without much light and devoid of any makeup, she looks like a hoor.

Was she always this beautiful or is it just the time that made her this?

Someday, when things will be a little better between them he will surely ask her.

Someday.

That will be his one innocent wish which he somehow know will come true.

"It's not up to you, you know." She said looking directly into his eyes.

Her eyes. Damn her hazel pair of eyes.

Once they used to carry so much love in them for him. And he failed to read those.

Now they carry so much pain in them. And he can clearly read that.

For the first time in the last week, when he had seen her again after five years, he is seeing her without her facade. Without her guards.

And that made him gulp. She should just wear her facade, he can't handle her real emotion. For they are too deep for him, always been that.

Then love, now hate.

And just like always, Mishkhat Khawar had her emotions profound and clear, both of them.

"What do you mean? What if I never break this marriage?" He asked and she laughed at that.

As if he just said some shit joke. "Mishkhat answer me."

And then she leans back to her pillow a little, keeping her phone away she said, "Well let's just say, I know this marriage won't work out. The reasons being, I don't want it to work and I can't adjust with you or your family. I don't expect them to adjust with me either."

He just shook his head and just started to say something when she cut him off.

"And Hamza, even if you don't divorce me, which I am sure you're thinking about, I really don't care. My marital status won't hamper my career anymore, and just because I am tied in this suffocation knot with you, it won't stop me either to stay back here."

That came to him as a shock.

She won't even fight him for a divorce.

She won't even spare a single sweat in this relationship.

She doesn't care about and that's what she just cleared out here.

She isn't going to give him an edge.

_______

THE NEXT TIME when he woke up he found the other side empty. And her phone on the charging point, the shower still running.

And like the creep, he had been all his life, he tried to open it. Keyword tried.

He gulps seeing her lock screen, a photo of her in a black saree and that blackless blouse with the neck too deep for his liking and a man, a handsome man in a black tux and both are laughing at something, it seems like a candid.

And who the hell would that be.

And since when she started having passcodes in her phone.

With the click of the door and she steps back into the room, he keeps the phone back to its place without being noticed and getting killed.

And Hamza for once forgot how to breathe, she is wearing this pale pink salwar suit and her black waves with copper highlights falling down her mid-length with pearl drops.

Black waves with copper highlights.

Mid-length.

Once the nineteen old Mishkhat Khawar used to have below waist-length black straight hair. Too processive of those, and he used to love them.

And now, she had them cut off and even had highlighted.

He keeps on looking at her. How she wears her creams and then sunscreen.

Wait, is he really watching The Mishkhat Khawar having a skincare routine. Now he believes unicorns exist in real life too!

For Mishkhat Khawar never had any idea of skincare back then.

And now she smells of something really sweet, not just her perfume.

Then he remembers, she had kept her moisture in the washroom only. So she used it just after her bath. Okay is that the way of using it or is it just her.

And now she is wearing her specs. Her specs.

He didn't even remember how she used to look in those. Now he remembers she had some prescribed specs with high power.

And how he asked her not to wear them in front of her, "Tum ajeeb lagti hoo mujhe inme." His exact words and she never wore them in front of him ever again.

Mishkhat had always tried to fit into his liking, and she wasn't someone to do that. But she still did that for her.

And now she doesn't care. And now she is just looking at him as if one more minute and she will kill him.

"You need anything?" He asked and she sighed, frustratedly if he might add.

"You don't have a three-pin plug in your stupid room?" She whisper-yelled at him.

And that's when he noticed her hairdryer or something like that in her hand.

"I never needed one. And since when did you start using that thing?" He couldn't help but ask and regretted seeing her glare.

She dropped her tool back into her bag and bring her hair to one side. Then softly wrapping a towel around the length.

She always used to air dry it.

Shut that, she just used to leave that open and let it dry.

"Since the moment I realised self-care is actually necessary for me." She smiled and that was enough for him to rush to the washroom.

_____

"Ghar ka riwaz hai, aj apko meetha banana hai," That was the first thing she heard as soon as they made their way to the hall.

Mishkat almost rolled her eyes but for now, she just nodded.

"Abhi banana hai ya shaam ko?" She asked as politely as she could. And Umera just raised a brow, she was expecting some drama seems like there would be none, for now.

"Nashtey mein, chaliye hum apko saman dikha dein."

"Kya bana rahi hai ap?" Umera asked when she enters the kitchen almost half an hour later and was greeted with the sweet smells.

"Kheer." A single word answer and she nodded.

With a spoon, she tastes a little directly from the Kadai and almost moans closing her eyes. It is good. Way too good.

"Ready hogyi." Mishkhat said turning the gas knob off.

Umera again nodded and asked her to serve it in bowls before leaving. She didn't expect the rebel to know how to cook let alone this good.

And then it hit her, Mishkhat Khawar, she had heard a lot about her in the past year when the alliance with her cousin got fixed.

She was the ideal girl.

But Umera never liked her.

The idea of Mishkhat Khawar in her life was of that nineteen-year-old girl hugging her son. The girl shamelessly asked her son not to leave him.

And the girl his son was so much in love with that he screamed at his sister when she said something about her. And that was a crack in her perfect family.

And she wasn't going to let that crack outstretched anymore, anyhow.

So she did what she needed to. She confronted her son, made him look into things and let him see the truth.

Let him see the Mishkhat Khawar always being the odd one out in their life. The one never fitting his.

And that was enough, her son had always been the perfect son. He broke up with her within a month.

And that's the end of their story.

Umera Sayyed herself brought the coffin and flowers for the graveyard of her son's first love.

But now things have taken an about-turn.

Yesterday she almost begged Mishkhat Khawar to marry her son. And now she is here, back in their life.

And now she knows, she needs to chain Mishkhat somehow.

She is going to do that. she is not going to Mishkhat Khawar her crack her family.

Little did she know, Mishkhat is never gonna stay here for long.

Mishkhat Khawar is a free bird, a phoenix and she is never the one to be caged.

Not by anyone, never by Umera Sayyed.

_____________________

Hello guys. So we are moving. Let me tell you this is a five-part story and I am up for requests if you have any.

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