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*

Zain

Her long white dress, with its even longer train looked beautiful, especially in the sparkling sunlight. It was her mother's wedding dress. It was long lace sleeves with floral designs, clearly an older style, but it suited her. She looked like she had walked out of the pages of a History textbook, but she looked beautiful.

"Zain." She held out her hand and I took her hand in mine, our wedding rings sparkling in our fingers. The soft sand beneath our feet felt warm and almost like a plush carpet. The breeze brought the salty scent of the sea to us, and I inhaled deeply. I don't know why, but everything about being at a beach calms me down. 

It was incredibly how beneath the calm waves in front of me, there was a whole different world, full of varieties of different creatures. It's like how a person often seems calm, even when there's a whole storm of emotions brewing up inside him, not easily viewed from the surface.

"This is what we always wanted." She whispered, her hair blowing into her face making her close her eyes briefly. "Please cheer up." 

"I'm not upset." I shook my head.

"You're mine, Zain."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned around. 

Wide eyes filled with tears stared up at me, the golden dupatta of her bridal lehenga slipping off her head. "How could you do this to me?" 

"Tara..." 

She began to back away, sobbing.

"Stop. I didn't mean to." I shook my head. "I wasn't thinking straight. Tara, stop!" 

She turned and ran off...towards the water.

"Tara, don't go there! You can't swim!" I yelled. Dropping Sana's hand from mine, I chased after Tara. "Please, stop!" 

The bottom of her lehenga was already in the depths of the water as she walked further and further. 

"Tara, please stop! I'm sorry!" I yelled. I continued after her, but every time I got closer, the waves pushed me back. 

"Tara!"

The waves became stronger as I fought harder. 

And then I couldn't see her anymore. "TARA!"

Suddenly, a spark of hope rose in me as I saw something golden from the corner of my eyes. I turned my head, blinking in the suddenly too bright sunlight and my heart almost stopped. 

Tara's dupatta was floating on the surface of the water.

"Tara!"

****

I sat up in the bed of the random services hotel that I had stayed the night at. My heart was beating too fast as I thought about the dream.

What do I even want? 

Well, in the dream, I had chased after Tara without hesitating, leaving Sana behind. I'd been petrified at the thought of anything happening to my wife, especially because of me.

And when I said 'wife', I meant Tara and only her.

I grabbed my phone and looked at the time: 03:37.

There were also numerous messages from Tara, sent after I'd fallen asleep.

<Trouble: Hey, you up?>

<Trouble: I guess you're not. I'm up. I'm bored.>

<Trouble: Okay, times are seriously dark if I am turning to you for entertainment.>

I laughed out loud at that.

<Trouble: On the bright side, I'm being pampered so much here. And Mama has set up the room just perfectly, just in case you'd want to come and stay the night ;) >

<Trouble: Yeh kya hai, Zain Sahab? Waise to dair dair tak jagte hain aap, aur aaj, jab main akeli bore ho rahi hoon, aap jaldi so gaye hain. Acha! Ab samajh main aayi baat. Aapne socha udaas hone se to behtar hai ke main so hi jaaon.>

*What is this, Mr Zain? Normally you're up very late, and today, when I'm bored alone, you are asleep early. Oh! I understand now. You thought that it's better to sleep than to miss me.

"My Trouble is such a drama, I swear." I muttered, smiling.

Awake now, I went onto social media, and saw that Tara had been tagged into a photo with her sister, Misha. Both of them wore flannel night-suits, with their hair up in a high ponytail, with similar cheeky grins on their faces as they held see-through glasses of hot chocolate. '#SisterTime #SistersHome #TaShaReunited #MissHer #LoveYouSis #HotChocolate #MissYouZoha #SistersForever.'.

I looked at the way Tara's eyes sparkled in the photo. I loved that, combined with her mischievous smile. 

And then I realised that Tara had changed her name to 'Tara Zain', causing me to grin cheesily.

You didn't even miss Sana in the last few months, as much as you are missing Tara after only hours apart. A voice in my head pointed out.

Damn. I'm actually missing Tara like crazy.

What the hell? It was about time I figured out what exactly I wanted.

****

Tara

"Mama!" I called out from the dining table, the next morning.

"Tara, calm down!" Mama yelled from the kitchen. 

I grinned at Papa, who was ready to go to work. He had no class in the morning today, so he requested the seniors if he could go in later today, so that we could have breakfast together. Apparently, most of the students were on school trips as it was the after-exam period from now till the end of July. 

"You wouldn't do that if your Damad was here, Mama." Misha, who had just completed her A-Level exams, was now officially on summer holidays. She and I high-fived as I totally agreed with her.

Mama came into the room carrying a tray, which contained a plate of cheese omelette and a plate of toast.

"Misha, you should help Mama." Papa told her, disapprovingly.

"Tauba karein!" Mama muttered, sarcastically, setting the tray down.

*"Tauba karein!" Basically sarcastically saying 'Yeah, right!'.

 I laughed at Misha. "Good luck getting all the lectures now that I'm gone as well." 

She stuck her tongue out at me.

My phone vibrated on the table beside me, and Mama automatically glared at me, as she used to. She used to always give us lectures about not using the phone will eating- not that we listened. Well, Zoha listened. Misha and I were dheet brats.

"Mama, chill. It must be Zain Bhai." Misha said in a teasing tone.

"Oh, yes. Of course." Mama softened automatically. "Go on, Tara." 

I rolled my eyes and grinned at the name popping up. I had saved his name as 'Shohar Ji (Hubby)'.

<Shohar Ji (Hubby): Good morning. What are you up to, Trouble?>

<Tara: I'm eating cheese omelette and toast. Join us.>

<Shohar Ji (Hubby): I'd love to, but I can't. I have to rush for a meeting.>

<Tara: Eat something!> I added a lot of angry emojis with it and accidently sent a kissing one that I'd sent Ashi while teasing her about Ahad Raza Mir, her Pakistani TV actor crush. I tried to quickly delete the message, but he read it.

<Shohar Ji (Hubby): Hai! Now I can survive on that kiss for the whole day ;) >

My cheeks were turning pink. Why was he flirting with me? 

"Definitely Zain Bhai!" Misha giggled. "Look at her face."

"Misha!" Mama told her off.

"Misha, chup karo! Otherwise I'll kick your backside so hard that you'll save up air fare for Pakistan and land directly in Lahore." I glared at her.

*"Chup karo!": Shut up!

"Tara!" Both my parents said together.

"I'm married. You can't tell me off!" I said, cheekily.

"If I'm alive when you have a grandchild, I'll still tell you off!" Mama shook her head. 

The rest of us laughed. It was true. Mama was like that. But being tough was just an act. She was a softie.

We had a wonderful breakfast together, and then Papa had to go. He kissed the top of my head, as well as Misha's, and Mama walked him out to the front door.

"So, Meesh. What's up?" I looked at my sister. "How is it like, basically being an only child?" 

"Ugh, remember when Zoha Appi left? It's ten times worse." She complained.

I rolled my eyes. "Allah! Don't remind me. I think Mama got angrier because she missed her so much."

"Tough times." She shook her head before her eyes widened. "So...how was the honeymoon? Did you guys scuba diva?" 

"You dumbo! Do you really think I would scuba dive?" 

"Hai! I would have done it."

"Great, you can do it on your honeymoon." I took a bite of the cheese omelette and closed my eyes. Mama Food is my life.

"Do you know how dodgy that sounds? What you just said?" Misha giggled.

My eyes flew open. "Allah! Misha, chappair maroongi main!" I warned her. "You shouldn't be making jokes like that!"

*"Chappair maroongi main!": I'll slap you!

She just laughed harder, unbothered.

I wish we could buy filters for people. But then again, if we could, Mama would buy one for me first. And a filtered Tara would be a boring Tara.

****

Mama truly did pamper me. 

Misha went out with her friends in the afternoon, so it was just me and Mama at home. First she made me my favourite tuna and sweetcorn pasta for lunch. She also prepared mango milkshake. During the summer months, we get mangos imported from Pakistan and India in local Asian shops, and we always buy loads of them because desi families are obsessed with mangos! She knew I loved the milkshake with crushed ice. In the late afternoon, she sat down to watch her favourite TV Pakistani show, a drama called Raaz-e-Ulfat. I don't really watch it, but I have grasped the basic concept, because it's not very uncommon in Pakistani dramas. A jealous wealthy brat coming in between the main couple. Allah! That sounds like my life right now. I have no idea what sort of a person Sana is, but she's wealthy. It's yet to be determined if she's a jealous brat as well.

I imagined my parents finding out about my situation. Papa would probably have an argument with Uncle. Mama would cry for me, but would tell me that as long as Zain was a good husband, I needed to remain strong. 

"My doll." Mama whispered, running her hand through my hair as I rested my head on her lap. "Are you happy with Zain?"

I knew that the question would pop up sooner or later. Before marriage, parents were concerned about their daughter finding a suitable husband. After marriage, they were concerned if she was happy and safe. Ya Allah, the lives of a desi daughter's parents must be so stressful! 

"I am." I replied, honestly. "Zain is a really good person. Ma Sha Allah." 

"Alhumdulillah." She looked visibly relieved.

"Don't worry, Mama. You don't have to stress because of me." I reassured her. "I know how to keep myself happy." 

"Beti ki maa bano gi na, In Sha Allah, phir ehsaas hoga meri pareshani ka." She just had to say another common desi mother dialogues! 

*"When you become a mother to a daughter, In Sha Allah, that's when you'll realise my worry."

"I think I'll even understand it when our Meesh gets married." I laughed, quietly. "In Sha Allah." 

"In one year, we married off two daughters, Ma Sha Allah." She said. "Don't even mention the third one right now or my heart will explode with sadness." 

I sat up. "Aww, Mama." I sat on my knees and wrapped my arms around her.

"Anyway, as long as my girls are happy." She looked at me, tearfully.

"You know what, Mama? I prefer it when you're telling me off." I kissed her cheek. "I rather see you yelling at me than crying. I can't stand your tears, you know that." 

We sat there watching TV, with Mama's arm around my shoulders as I leaned against her. 

Allah, I really missed her. A mother-daughter bond is so beautiful, and I'm so blessed to have that with Mama. Alhumdulillah.

****

That night something happened.

I have no idea how it happened, but I woke up when I felt pain shoot through my head, and the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. I opened my eyes, groaning, and found myself lying on the floor at the bottom of the steps. Fortunately, it was carpeted otherwise God knows what would have happened.

Did I sleepwalk again?

"Tara!" 

I heard footsteps running down the stairs, and then Mama and Papa were leaning over me. 

"How did you fall, beta?" Papa asked, concerned. "Jamila, check to see if anything's broken."

Mama examined me carefully by moving my limbs and everything, but everything seemed fine. They helped me up and led me to the sofa in the living room, as Mama turned on the light.

"Allah! She's bleeding, Hamid!" Mama looked at Papa, panicked.

"Open your mouth." Papa told me gently, bending down to look into my mouth. I obeyed and he examined inside to see if there was any tooth damage. "As far as I can tell, she seemed to have bit her tongue, but see if we can get an emergency dentist appointment in the morning." 

I moved my tongue around to inspect the damage. "Teeth seem fine."

"Are you sure you're okay? Could you have a concussion? Shall we call an ambulance?" Mama asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, Mama." I stood up. "I just need to rinse my mouth." As I stood, up, the room spun in front of my eyes and I felt nauseated. "Okay, I might have a concussion." I immediately sat back down, as my parents looked tensed with worry.

****

According to the NHS website, Papa read that if a person wakes up after being knocked out, they should go into the Accident and Emergency department of the local hospital. I had been sleepwalking, and it wasn't clear if I had been knocked out, but they took me to the hospital, nevertheless.

After reassurance by the (*ahem*very cute*) doctor, we were sent home. I'm serious, messy blonde hair and blue eyes that were hidden behind stylish glasses. I'd never admit it aloud, I would never, ever act upon it, but I'm human, and I am allowed to mentally think that someone's attractive. I think.

Mama and Papa kept repeatedly discussing whether they should call Zain, but I asked them not to worry him. He'd probably give me a lecture for it later, but he had enough on his plate. 

However, Misha the nutter had called him, because he was there when we got home from the hospital.

"Tara!" He looked worried as he rushed out into the foyer when we entered. Looking at my parents, he greeted them politely. "Assalam Alaikum!" 

"Walaikum Assalam!" My parents replied.

"Zain, what are you doing here?" I was confused.

"Misha called me and told me that you fell down the stairs." Zain was staring at me from my feet, all the way up to my head, clearly examining for any injury. "You okay?" 

"She's picked up sleepwalking, somehow." Mama looked bewildered. "She's never done it before. I don't know why she has started it."

"You heard the doctor, Jamila." Papa said. "Not getting enough sleep, or stress and anxiety can be the cause." 

"I have no stress or anxiety." I didn't want them to face stress and anxiety, so I lied.

And they were too polite to ask me about getting enough sleep, now that I was married.

"Aunty, Uncle, you go and get some rest. I'm here. I'll take care of her." Zain reassured my parents. 

"Zain, beta..." Papa began.

"I mean, as long as you're happy for me to stay?" My husband asked.

"Of course!" Mama immediately replied. "It's your own home, beta. Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you, Aunty." 

"Well, good night then." Papa said, a little uncertainly as he and Mama headed up the stairs. 

"Let us know if you do need something." Mama called out over her shoulder.

As soon as they disappeared out of sight, Zain walked over and wrapped his arm around me. "Guide me to your bedroom." 

I leaned against him as he took me upstairs. "This one." I pointed to the door of Zoha's former bedroom, and we entered. "Zain, you didn't have to come." 

"Of course I did. You fell down the bloody stairs while sleepwalking, Tara." He frowned, helping me onto the bed.

My eyes began to drift shut the moment my head hit the pillow. "You care about me." I smiled, sleepily. "So sweet." I turned on my side and fell asleep.

****

Zain

I slept long after Tara had fallen asleep. She had turned over and snuggled up against me, causing weirdly sweet feelings to rise up inside me. I felt protective of her, worried about her.

She acts tough, but she has a heart of gold. My grandmother used to say that a kind hearted person must always be treated with extra care, because she believed that breaking that heart of such a person is an even bigger sin. 

What if something had happened to her tonight? The thought made me feel almost sick. What if my desire to have Sana back in my life unintentionally became a dua which caused something to happen to Tara? What if that was what my dream was about? No. I shook my head. May Allah always protect Tara from harm. Ameen.

I fell asleep trying to detangle my confused thoughts.

I woke up hearing her mumble in her sleep and I opened my eyes to see her looking distressed. It was morning, and the sunlight was peeking through the cracks in the curtains. 

"I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage." She was saying as a tear ran down her face and over her nose as she lay facing me. "Now I've come between two lovers." 

"No, you haven't, Tara." I reached forward and wiped away her tear. "This was my decision, and you agreed to it. I chose this. You and I, ultimately, are just following the path created for us by Allah." 

"I'll leave him." She continued in her sleep. "He wants her, so I'll leave him." 

Ya Allah! 

"Tara." I patted her cheek lightly. "Wake up." When she didn't, I patted her cheek again. "Wake up, Trouble. Come on." 

She opened her eyes and looked puzzled as she saw me. "Zain?" 

I wasn't going to mention any of this to her. She was probably going to be embarrassed. However, I was going to prove her wrong. Her decision to marry me wasn't wrong, and I had to make sure that she knew that.

"Good morning, my favourite kind of trouble." I smiled at her. "Had a good trip last night?"

"Hilarious." She muttered, sitting up.

"How are you feeling?" 

"I woke up and saw you, so not very good." She grinned.

"Who's the hilarious one now?" I ruffled her hair, causing her to shriek out my name. "Get up. I'm hungry." 

"Then go and eat something." She yawned. "I'm sure Mama has been up since Fajr preparing things for her beloved son-in-law anyway." 

I shook my head. "I'm disappointed in you, Trouble. Your husband is here for a night in your family home for the first time, and you can't even make breakfast for him. And before you say it, Lahore didn't count as it was your Dado's house."

"I can live with your disappointment." She lay back down, turning her back towards me.

I reached out and started tickling her stomach.

"Zain!" She shrieked, startled.

"Shh! Your family will think we're up to no good." I chuckled, continuously tickling her.

"I'll die for my cause. I won't make you breakfast!" She stared up at me challengingly.

"Okay." I got up from the bed. "I'll just leave without eating anything."

"You're being dramatic." She rolled her eyes. "Mama won't let you leave without eating anything."

"Is that a bet?" 

"Zain, stop being annoying and go eat!" 

"Not until my wife makes me breakfast." I was just teasing her of course, but it was fun seeing her get all riled up.

"Fine!" Rolling her eyes, and to my absolute surprise, she got up.

"Whoa!  Relax." I rushed over and made her sit back down. "I'm just teasing you. I'm not psychotic, making you make breakfast for me after you decided to go bungee jumping down the stairs without an actual bungee." 

"How chivalrous of you." She muttered.

I laughed, heading for the door. "One bathroom, right?" I was genuinely just enquiring.

"Yeah, Your Royal Highness. Unfortunately, we peasants live like this." 

"Sass Queen." I shook my head, heading out. 

****

<Sana: Please meet me. Once. I want to talk.>

I kept thinking about the message Sana had sent me, shortly before we sat down for breakfast at Tara's house. I looked around the table. Uncle had to go to work, Aunty was still in the kitchen (despite my insistence that she sits and eat with us), Misha was scrolling through her phone and Tara was staring at her plate of pancakes, absent-mindedly. 

"Tara, everything okay?" I asked, concerned.

"I'm not hungry." She muttered, looking up at me.

"Eat." I gently, but firmly told her. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." 

"Good luck telling her that." Aunty walked in at the right time. "I keep telling her, but she never listens. Misha! Phone!" 

Misha sheepishly pushed her phone away while Tara started eating.

I had no idea what to do. I had a bad feeling that Tara's stress and anxiety-and therefore sleepwalking- was because of the drama that I had dragged her into. Yes, I was honest with her, but she shouldn't have been dragged into my mess. I should have cleared my feelings for Sana before I got married. I felt an unbearable amount of guilt and I just wanted to punch something.

"Thank you for the breakfast, Aunty, but I really should get going." I looked at my mother-in-law. "I need to get somewhere urgently." 

Sana had also texted me an address, and had told me that she'd be waiting for me.

I looked at Tara. "Take care, okay?" 

"Will you come back tonight?" She looked up at me, eyes wide.

"I can't promise anything." I told her honestly. "I'm sorry, Tara."

She turned away, as if she knew where I was going. The pain on her face was clear and it made me hate myself even more. 

I  stood up. "Allah Hafiz." 

"Allah Hafiz, beta." Aunty said. "Tara, go and see him off."

"It's okay, Aunty. She's forgiven this time as she got hurt." I gave my wife a teasing smile, before walking out of the house.

I felt like I was about to ruin someone's life, and it was not a good feeling.

****

I arrived outside a bungalow. I'd entered the address on the GPS, but I'd never ever been here before. But when I looked carefully at it, my heart sank. It was mine and Sana's dream home, the kind that we had fantasised about. It was a gorgeous bungalow, with a patio and a pergola decorated with flowers. A small white gate opened up into the beautifully decorated front garden. I could see Sana's car parked in the driveway beside it.

Why the f**k did she have to call me here? I turned the ignition off and got out. 

'Don't go in there!' My inner voice warned me. 'Once you get lured into her trap, you won't ever be able to free yourself, Zain.'

The gate squeaked as I opened it and walked inside. Walking under the decorate pergola, I headed to the front door and rang the doorbell, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

The door opened a few moments later and my heart stopped briefly.

Wearing shorts, a cropped t-shirt that exposed her toned stomach, and with her hair up in a messy but chic bun, Sana looked s*xy. A tear trickled down her cheek and she smiled when she saw me.

"Astaghfirullah!" I immediately turned my back to her, hating myself for being weak enough to come here.

"Zain, you're here. I'm so glad. Look! I found our place." 

"I came here to tell you that we are impossible now." I kept my back towards her. "Sana, we're over. We're history. Let us remain in the past, okay?"

"But we love each other, Zain." Her voice broke. "You're my only one. Look at me!" 

"No."

"Please look at me, Zain. I want to see you looking at me that way again, the way you used to, your eyes filled with love." 

"I've changed, Sana." I said. "I can't look at you like that now. You're a non-mehram to me."

"Then make me your mehram! We'll have a Nikah done, Zain!" She whispered. "You don't even have to divorce Tara. I won't ever ask you to treat her unfairly, Zain. Just marry me as well." 

S**t. That sounds perfect. Tara can be my wife as well as Sana. I'd have to hurt nobody in the process.

Wait. What. What the f**k am I thinking? Tara had made it clear, even in a joking manner, that she couldn't share me. And after all the selflessness she had displayed, I would never in my life do anything to intentionally hurt her again. I won't even think about something that has even one percent of a chance of hurting her.

"No." I said. "We're over, Sana."

"You don't even love her!" She shrieked, sobbing. 

"I will." I said, confidently. "If I stop turning back to my past, I will definitely love her. Because Tara is the sort of person you can't help but love. She's my wife, Sana. My one and only wife, and I will never put her in a position where she has to share her husband with someone else." I paused. "You're a great girl, Sana. You deserve someone who will remain only loyal to you. I can't be that person anymore because my loyalty is only for Tara. Take care of yourself, Sana." I strode away from her before she could stop me. 

My own heart was in a million pieces by this point. I hated hurting Sana. I hated seeing her cry. All I wanted was to take her in my arms and kiss her sadness away, but I couldn't. 

I got into the car and quickly drove off.

But I couldn't help thinking that if I had just waited for a few months, Sana and I could have ended up together. 

Love is f***ed up.

I knew one thing now. If I wanted to move on, I wanted to have a proper husband and wife relationship with Tara. No more 'just friends', no more 'friend-wife', and suddenly no more 'friendventures'. We were going to have to start behaving like any another arranged marriage couple. I didn't mean that we immediately consummate our marriage or start getting physical.

No. I meant that we start seeing each other for who we really are for each other: my wife, her husband. 

And for that to happen, I needed to talk to Tara. Now.

****

Are you happy with Zain?

Now you'll see the gradual transition from friends to spouses. Are you looking forward to that?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!