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*

I have changed the title of the previous chapter, so it's not in parts now.

I intend to change the direction of this story slightly now.

****

Tara

"Woh ik katra ankhon se, najaane kab behna hai. Woh badley ga taqdeer, woh mera bhi to Khuda hai." I sang out the OST from the drama Bandhay Ek Dour Se*.

*Apologies for my obsession with drama OSTs. Trust me, they're worth it. 

I grabbed my hairbrush. "Magar yeh dua hai meri, khush rahe duniya teri..." I pretended like I was a pop star and I sang into my brush.

*Translation: But it's my wish that your world stays happy [basically 'you' stay happy]." 

Zain was at work, and I was trying to clean my room. Emphasis on the word 'trying'. Each time I attempt any sort of housework, I end up singing like I was in a singing competition. 

Zoha always used that famous dialogue on me: "Did the doctor accidentally drop you on your head when you were born?", while Mama always heard the dialogue, "Kya khaya tha iske waqt?", meaning 'what did you eat while you were pregnant with her?'. 

I swear, us desi people have a common phrases dictionary, and these two phrases definitely belong in there. I had a shorter day at work today, and I had excitedly come home for some 'Me Time'. 

I swear, I felt like Sir Quackers was mocking me, sitting against my headboard. I couldn't help laughing at myself. "Get used to, Quackers. I'm weird. I'm like this. Love me or leave me, I don't care." 

I heard the front door unlock and I immediately set the hairbrush down. "Don't judge me, Quackers. I can't make a fool of myself in front of him. You should understand that." Suddenly my eyes widened as I smelled something delicious. "Biryani!" Shrieking, I raced out and down the stairs, where Zain was standing in the foyer, holding a white bag with containers. 

At the top of the stairs, I acted nonchalant, and calmly headed downstairs. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam!" He grinned. "Your shriek could be heard all over the neighbourhood, so you can drop the act." 

"The shriek was solely for the biryani." I reached to grab the bag from him, but he moved it away. "Zain!"

"Ask me nicely, and it's yours." He continued to look amused.

"Zain..." I narrowed my eyes at him.

He walked into the kitchen, still carrying the bag, laughing.

"Zain, come on! Don't tease me regarding food! You know that's wrong, and basically illegal." I followed him. 

I was genuinely making an effort, but for now, our marriage was basically back on square one: friendship point. We laughed, talked and teased each other, but there was no hugging, kissing, handholding, and certainly no intimacy. It was hard, but it was necessary. I wanted to build our trust back up from scratch again. Zain had, in general, been a good and honest husband so far, which is why I was willing to easily give him another chance. See? Honesty has its benefits.

He set the bag down onto the kitchen counter and then turned to face me. "I felt like having biryani tonight, so I bought some...for myself." 

"Only truly cruel people don't share biryani!" I glared at him.

With a cheeky wink, he began to head out of the kitchen. "Do not touch my dinner!"

"Our dinner!" I corrected him.

He started whistling some random song as he headed up to our room. 

I turned to face the bag of food, but instead I saw his phone on the counter. 

Do it. Look through it. Check if he really has lost contact with Sana. The voice in my head made me think that Satan seemed to be working overtime when it came to ruining marriages.

It was tempting, I have to admit it. I knew his passcode...well, I used to. I don't know if he had changed it or kept it the same. I picked up the phone and entered the passcode.

The phone was now unlocked.

He hadn't changed his passcode. He trusted me.

My eyes landed on the messages icon, and I was having an internal battle whether to tap on it or not. 

I almost gave in. I almost clicked on it. 

No, Tara. You won't be that wife. I set the phone back down, my soul winning the battle over my temptations. 

When Zain came back downstairs, I was sitting in the living room, thinking about things. 

"You don't want biryani?" He grinned, leaning in the doorway.

"I thought it was just for you?" 

"Would I ever dare have biryani without my Trouble?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question. "Or anything to eat, really?" 

I smiled widely. "That's exactly why I like you." I got up and as I got closer to him, I paused. "I checked to see if you had changed your phone passcode." 

"Why should I? I have nothing to hide." 

"I was tempted to go through your phone, but I didn't. I'm not that person." 

"You can." He shrugged nonchalantly. "As I said, I have nothing to hide." 

I have no idea why I was even so surprised. This was the same guy who had opened up to me before marriage, and gave me a chance to make a decision on that basis.

This is also the guy who had promised me loyalty. And I had no doubt regarding it. I knew he was loyalty to me. I trusted him that much.

"And I know without doubt, without checking, that there's nothing in the phone that would worry me." I said, confidently.

We started at each other intensely, and if things were like before, I would have kissed him, but I wanted to give myself some time. While I trusted him, I just need to recover from everything that had happened. And to recover meant not to kiss each time I found him attractive. If I did that, we would never leave the house.

"Thank you." He whispered. "For trusting me."

"Your loyalty was never questioned." I walked past him and towards the kitchen. "And you know what's a good way to show your loyalty? By sharing biryani with me." 

He laughed as he followed me inside. 

****

"Zain, I actually want to talk to you." I told him as he drove me to work the next morning.

"Sure, go ahead." 

"Last night, I saw this university advertisement about last minute entries to a Masters' course." I hesitated before continuing. "I think I want to do Masters." 

He looked a little surprised. "Was this something you always wanted, or is this a last minute decision?" 

"I don't know, to be honest. I've considered it before, but I've been thinking. This internship ends soon, and I want to do something, so why not study further?" 

"Sure, if that's what makes you happy, why not?" He shrugged.

"Well...good question. And I have an answer to that." I glanced away from him. "The government doesn't pay for Masters. It's self-funded, and the fees is...a little above my budget." 

"Don't worry about the fees, I'll take care of it." 

"It's close to ten grand." I blinked at him.

"I'm aware of the high fees of Masters." He nodded. "And I'm still telling you not to worry about it."

"I didn't start this discussion in the hopes that you'll pay for it." I said. "I just wanted to talk to my husband about my decision. Zain, I don't expect you to just pay me that money. I want to earn it somehow." 

Allah! That sounds incredibly dodgy, now that I think about it. And look at that cheeky grin on his face! His thoughts are in the same direction as mine.

"I mean, maybe I can do an unpaid internship at the company, and help you out around the office?" I suggested. "Or maybe I can get a part-time job, and pay you in instalments?" 

"Or maybe, you just accept this because what's mine is yours." He added his own suggestion. "Tara, Alhumdulillah I can pay for your fees. Let me. I'm your husband."

"Zain..." 

"You selflessly helped me constantly till now. Please let me help you. Let me do something for you for a change." 

"You've already done a lot for me." 

"Tara, please." 

His pleading tone made me melt. "Fine."

He grinned. "Good. And I'm very proud of you." He quickly glanced at me. "What do you plan on studying anyway?" 

"Creative Writing MA." I smiled just thinking about it. "It's my dream course." 

You know what's better than having your dream fulfilled? Having a supportive partner. Especially for us married, desi girls, who are stereotypical expected to be bound to our homes after marriage. I was fortunate that my husband wasn't the type to hate the idea of his wife studying or working. Alhumdulillah.

With the way things were going between me and Zain, it wasn't going to be long before we got back to normal.

****

Amir

I was in my office, just barely starting my day, when there was a knock on the door. I looked up and saw Sana standing there, and I groaned internally.

I knew who she was now. Her company had started sponsoring our entertainment nights, but I hadn't really met her, and I had no idea that it was the same Sana. 

"Amir." She smiled at me. "I was just here to check if you want to get some coffee with me?" 

 "I can't. I'm a little busy right now." I smiled apologetically at her.

"Maybe some other...?"

"Sana." I interrupted politely. "There's that infamous Bro Code. I don't date my best friend's ex. In fact, I'm not into dating at all." 

"What's the harm?" She asked. "If a guy and a girl want to get know each other, there's nothing wrong with that!"

"I'm sorry, but you can't change my mind about this." I had no idea what her intentions were, but I had to stay wary of her.

There was another knock on the door, and this time I saw Rumaisa in the doorway, holding a large portfolio. She walked inside, and set it down onto the desk in front of me. "It's all done, the final artwork." 

"Thanks." I smiled up at her.

"Excuse me, we were in the middle of something?" Sana looked at her with contempt.

"I heard the last sentence you spoke." Rumaisa kept her tone polite. "Unfortunately, this is an office, and work takes priority here, so what I am here for is more important." 

I resisted the urge to smirk. "I'll have a look at these, Rumaisa. You may leave." 

"Sure." Rumaisa glanced at Sana. "I have work to do anyway." She walked off, the sound of her jangling bracelets filling the office.

"Your staff is so rude." Sana shook her head.

"I have work to do, Sana. Just leave." I opened the portfolio Rumaisa had just left there to examine the artwork.

Sana huffed and walked out of the office. 

The girl had undeniable talent, no doubt- Rumaisa, I mean. My gaze ran over the beautiful drawings and I was in complete awe. Intelligent and sassy. I just wished that her internship wasn't coming to an end. I was intrigued by her...a lot more than I waned to be.

Why don't you offer her a permanent position here? Here and Tara Bhabi?

I leaned back in my chair and considered the thought. Interesting.

****

Tara

Through my educational life, I'd hated the first day of school. And even though attending university was my own choice, I'd still hated the first days.

Until now. The idea of going for my Masters was so exciting! 

I was happily humming a song as I made dinner that evening, when the doorbell rang. I frowned. Who can it be at this time?

Washing my hands, I headed out into the foyer, and opened the door. "Allah! Zain!"

He stood there, wearing a duck cap, and holding a gorgeous bunch of red roses. I'm serious. The cap was yellow, with an orange visor to represent the beak. And ducks eyes were on the front of the cap.

"I'm ducking crazy about you." He got down on one knee. "Please forgive this idiotic husband of yours, and let's get back to normal." 

"Zain, are you feeling okay?" I asked.

"I miss us, Trouble. The husband and wife us, and not the friends version of us." 

"Admit it. You just miss romancing me." I smiled, weakly.

"I admit it." He stood up and moved closer. "I miss the kisses, the hugs, the affection and the intimacy. But I hate what I've caused between us both. I hate that I hid something so important from you. I hate that I was so horrible to you publicly, but especially in front of Sana."

"I know that I overreacted a bit but..."

"No, Tara, you didn't." He put his hands on my cheeks, staring at me with so much love that I felt overwhelmed. "You were traumatised, and on top of that you found out that I was in contact with Sana, plus I made things worse by being rude to you and asking you to leave your own home." 

"We've both made mistakes."

"But mine were worse, and I admit it." He took a deep breath. "I want to apologise to you, Tara, from the bottom of my heart, for all the secrets and pain that I have caused you unintentionally. I'm sorry for being a jerk." 

"And I'm sorry for unintentionally creating a scene." 

"Are we okay?" He asked me with a hopeful look in his eyes.

I nodded. "We're okay. You've been so amazing, that I want to give you another chance." 

He grinned and I felt truly happy for being the reason of that gorgeous smile.

"One last chance, Zain. Don't let me down." I poked a finger against his chest.

"I promise, I won't." He said, genuinely. Then he leaned closer, ready to kiss me.

"Not that easily." I grabbed the duck cap, put it on my own head and raced away, laughing.

"Tara!" Also laughing, he chased me upstairs. 

Our marriage, our fights and even our making-up was unusual, but in a good way. I guess we were both determined to not let ego destroy a relationship that meant everything to us. 

We were Zain and Tara, for duck's sake. We won't let anything or anyone destroy or beautiful relation.

And that was a promise that I was making to myself.

He caught up to me, naturally, causing me to shriek and squeal as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "I have a lot of making up to do." He buried his face against my neck.

"Zain..." 

"We've wasted a lot of time, but no more." He scooped me up into his arms and took me into our bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

Needless to say, we definitely made up for the lost time...and it was amazing.

****

Our last day of internship was also the last day of the shooting of the TV show, and it was very emotional. We had made good memories and good friends here.

As Rumi and I walked towards the exit, one of the set guys told us that Amir Bhai was calling us both to his office.

"I wonder what that's about." I said, thoughtfully, as we headed to his office. 

A short while later we sat in front of him at his desk, both looking at him questioningly.

"I would like to offer you both permanent positions here." He said, without bushing around the bush. "Tara Bh...Tara, you'll be a junior writer, and Rumaisa, you'll be a junior designer." 

I looked at him in disbelief, before turning to look at Rumi. She actually looked pleasantly surprised by the offer. 

"Seriously?" She asked him.

"Yes, I wouldn't have offered it otherwise." 

"Yes!" Rumi blurted out, without hesitating. "You have no idea how much I've enjoyed working here, and I'm honoured that you decided to give me this opportunity." 

Amir Bhai turned his gaze towards me.

"I really appreciate this offer, Mr Waleed." I spoke professionally. "And, trust me, I've had a brilliant time working here. But I've decided to pursue further studies, and I want to take some time to decide if I want to work along with studying." 

"Oh, wow. Congratulations, Tara!" He looked surprised. "But good luck for the future. My offer will still stand if you want to come back."

"Thank you." I smiled politely.

The truth was that I was already getting my education paid for by Zain. I didn't feel like it was the right thing to do to accept a job offer just like this from his cousin. Yes, I got this internship confirmed before I'd even married Zain, but now that I was his wife, I didn't want to get a job offer practically served to me by my cousin-in-law. I would hate to take the place of someone truly deserving.

And anyway, I was too lazy to be able to easily manage a job and studies at the same time. When will I ever find the time for Netflix if I do both?!

Priorities, man. It's all about having the right priorities.

****

LATE SEPTEMBER

The wind was blowing hard enough to make my car shake as I waited at the traffic lights. Rain seemed to pour down almost mercilessly against the windscreen, causing the wipers to work extra hard to clear the water away for better visibility. 

I was just going to university for my first day of the MA Creative Writing course, but Storm Suzanne was making it very difficult for me to reach there. I swear, who names these storms? It would be hilarious if there's ever a Storm Tara. Zain will find it hilarious.

It was funny, how almost one year ago, and the day we met Iftikhar Uncle, I had been struggling to get to uni as well, but the difference was that I was running for the bus then. How had my life changed so much in these eleven months?

I sighed in relief as I pulled up into the student car parking of the university, and then pulling up the hoodie of my rain coat over my head, I got out. Grabbing my bag from the back seat, I rushed towards the entrance of the building that led to my lecture hall.

Impressive, T. You're actually five minutes early. I praised myself as I entered the lecture hall.

Even though it was just early autumn and not too cold outside, the warmth of the hall gave me relief as my clothes were damp from the rain. 

I walked halfway up and took a seat on a corner seat, putting my bag on the seat beside me.

To my surprise, the hall filled up pretty quickly. As much as I loved the subject, I didn't expect so many people to be enrolled in it. 

"May we take the seats beside you?" 

I looked up and was surprised to see a desi couple standing beside me. The guy was around five foot ten, with a neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes that were filled with a lot of warmth. The girl was dressed in jeans and a black kurta, and she wore a hijab. I turned and looked around the hall, and there was literally no other seat apart from the three next to mine. "Sure." I stood up to let them pass, and they settled in beside me on the seats next to my bag.  

"Mujhe abhi tak samajh nahin aayi ke hum yahaan kyun aaye hain." The girl said in perfect Urdu. "Islamabad main hi kisi university main parh letay." 

*"I still don't understand why we came here."
"We could have studied at some university in Islamabad."

"Humaisha itni darri hui rehti ho tum!" He shook his head at her.

*"You're always so scared."

So they were Pakistani. 

I turned to face them. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing. Main bhi Pakistani family se hoon." 

*"I'm also from a Pakistani family."

"My name is Tara." I smiled politely at them. "Originating from Lahore, Pakistan." 

"I'm Rafia." The girl introduced herself. "And this is my two years older brother, Razi."

"Hey!" Razi gave me a small wave.

I was just trying to be friendly and welcoming. I had no idea how these two siblings were actually connected to me in unexpected ways.

****

Amir

"Razi and Rafi are here." My mother told me.

"Mama, come on." I sighed.

"Rafia is a good match for you, beta." Mama told me as I finished my coffee, while sitting in the living room.

"I've met her before, Mama. She and I will not make a good match." I sighed. Why do desi mothers keep interfering?

"Then tell me who your match is." She looked exasperated. "Look, Amir. Rafi is your Phupho's jaith's daughter. We know that she's from a good family. What's the harm?"

*Jaith: husband's older brother.

I stood up. "We're not compatible, Mama." 

"Do you like someone else?"  She tried to read my expression, and I turned away.

"When the right time comes, we'll know who the match is automatically." I shook my head. "But not Rafia. She's sweet, religious and a great person, but I...I don't know. I just don't get the feeling that I want to marry her, you know?" 

"Well, they're alone in the city. They'll be coming here more often than you'd like. Just do me a favour, Amir Waleed, and be nice. That's all I'm asking."

Why? Why me?

****

So, the story will take a different turn as Tara stars her Masters. It was good of Zain to support her, as a lot of females don't get the support to study after marriage, unfortunately.

Will Rafia erase any chances of the Amir and Rumi ship sailing?

Thoughts and comments?

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