Chapter 15
Aayat's POV:
The silence of the room was deafening. Only the faint ticking of the clock could be heard as Aayat sat at the edge of her bed, her fingers tightly clutching the blanket. Her eyes were fixed on nothing, lost in the abyss of memories that kept haunting her.
Each moment with Rayyan replayed in her mind like a cruel movie
His promises.
His words.
His touch.
"Aayat, tum meri dua ho... aur aj meri wo dua qabool ho kar mere samne bethi hain."
"Aayat, tum meri izat ho. Tumhari izat ki hifazat karna meri zimmedari hain"
Her lips trembled as those words echoed in her head. She wanted to laugh, but all that escaped her mouth was a broken sob.
"Toh phir kyu Rayyan? Why did you let me shatter?"
Her tears fell silently, burning her cheeks like acid. She stood up, her feet dragging towards the mirror in front of her dressing table.
She stared at her reflection-pale, lifeless, hollow. Her eyes, once filled with dreams, now looked like two abandoned graves.
"Tum haar gayi, Aayat... tumhari achaye tumhari dushman ban gaye." she whispered to herself.
"Kyu ho tum yaha? Is ghar mein koi tumhe nahi chahta. Sab tumse nafrat karte hain. Chali jao, Aayat... yaha se chali jao."
Her voice broke as rage and helplessness collided inside her. Suddenly, she lifted her trembling hand and slammed it against the mirror.
CRASH!
The glass shattered into a thousand fragments, and with it, her already broken heart screamed louder. Shards pierced her hand, blood trickled down her wrist, but she didn't even flinch.
She stared at the blood as though it belonged to someone else.
"Zakham? ye zakham toh bhar jaye ga pr jo dil pr laga hain uska kya karu."
For a long moment she stood there, her breaths shallow, chest heaving, until a thought crept into her mind-Where will I go?
She didn't want their money.
She didn't want their jewelry.
She didn't want their clothes.
She wanted nothing that connected her to them.
"Par phir... jaungi kahan?" her thoughts raced. And then, like a faint candle in darkness, she remembered.
"zindgi mein tumhein jab be zaroorat hogy, mein tumhe zaroor miluga."
It was Sameer khan-the kind man who had once pressed a card in her hand, four years ago. He and his wife Sonia , whom she had saved from a road accident.
Her hand shook as she rushed to her books. She pulled one open, and there it was. She clutched it to her chest, her heart pounding.
She quickly wrote a letter, her tears smudging the ink:
"Main janti hoon ke aap sab meri shakal nahi dekhna chahte.
Is liye, aap sab ko koi farq nahi padega ke main kahan hoon.
Main bhi jaane se pehle kehna chahti hoon ap sab se.
.. main ab aap sab mein se kisi ki shakal nahi dekhna chahti.
Samajh lena ke Aayat mar gayi. Allah Hafiz. "
She placed the letter carefully on her pillow, along with her phone. She left with nothing-no clothes, no money, no jewelry. Nothing.
She slipped out of the mansion silently, like a shadow fading into the night.
After walking for a long distance, her feet sore, she stopped at a small shop. The shopkeeper looked at her strangely when she asked for a phone.
"Bhai... mera phone band ho gaya hai, thori der ke liye aapka use kar sakti hoon? Call kay paise be day dugy." she lied with a trembling voice.
The man hesitated, then handed her his phone.
Her fingers dialed the number on the card. She almost hung up-what if they had forgotten her? What if they didn't care? But she forced herself to press the green button.
The call rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
"Hello, Sameer Khan speaking."
Her heart squeezed. Tears rolled down as she whispered, "Hello Uncle... main Aayat hoon... yaad hai aapko? Chaar saal pehle... jab Aunty ka accident hone wala tha..."
Her voice broke, sobs choking her words.
"Uncle main..."
But Sameer interrupted, his voice filled with concern, "Aayat beta, tum ro kyun rahi ho? Kahan ho tum?"
In the background, a woman's voice-Sonia Aunty's-echoed, "Sameer, kaun hai?"
"Aayat hai... jisne tumhari jaan bachayi thi," Sameer said, his voice heavy with urgency.
"Speaker kholo!" Sonia's anxious tone filled the line.
"Aayat beta, kya hua? Kahan ho tum?" Sonia's voice softened, motherly.
"Aunty... main road par hoon... mere paas jaane ki koi jagah nahi hain... ye phone bhi mera nahi hai... dukan wale ka hai..."
Her words dissolved in sobs.
"Address batao!" Sonia demanded.
She gave the address, her voice shaking. Sameer immediately said, "Main apna driver bhej raha hoon. Tum wahi rukna. Fikr mat karo, beta."
"Uncle... paise bhi bhejna... dukan wala phone ke paise maang raha hai..."
"Fikr mat karo, beta," Sameer reassured her.
Moments later, a car stopped by her side. The driver stepped out, "Aap Aayat hain? Sameer Sir ne bheja hai. Chaliye."
She nodded and got inside.
Two hours later, she entered a grand but warm house. Sonia Aunty rushed to her, embracing her tightly, tears falling from her eyes.
"Meri beti..." Sonia whispered, holding her as if she'd never let go.
Sameer placed a gentle hand on her head, his eyes misty.
But then Sonia gasped. "Aayat, tumhare haath se khoon beh raha hai!"
Aayat looked down at her bloody hand, gave a faint, painful smile, "Ye theek hai, aunty... kuch nahi hua."
Sameer and Sonia exchanged a glance, their hearts heavy. This girl wasn't the same one they had met years ago. Her eyes had lost their shine, her face bore bruises, her soul carried storms.
And then-
"Kya ho raha hai yahan?"
Aayat slowly turned, her mind still fogged with pain. Standing at the staircase was a young man. His presence was striking, his aura calm yet powerful.
"Ayaan beta..." Sameer said, "ye Aayat hain... jisne tumhari maa ki jaan bachayi thi."
Ayaan's eyes widened. She... the girl from the restaurant.
The one who had unknowingly stolen his thoughts since that day.
"Ye... tum?" he whispered in disbelief.
Memories flooded him-her playful defiance, her smile when she had teased him,
"sorry pr chair pr apka naam nahi likha."
"Ab jao yaha se warna...."
"Warna kya?"
" Warna mein sab ko bol dugy tum mujhe tang kar rahay ho. Phir socho, kya hoga?
And now, here she stood.
He extended his hand gently. "Thank you... meri mama ki jaan bachane ke liye."
Aayat hesitated, then placed her wounded hand in his. Ayaan froze as blood smeared against his palm. His eyes darted to her bruised face, the faint marks on her cheeks-fingerprints of someone's cruelty.
He looked at his parents, silently asking. They only shook their heads, helpless.
Sonia stepped forward, "Tum yahan kyu khadi ho Aayat? Ye tumhara ghar hai. Aao, betho."
She made Aayat sit on the sofa and called out, "Ayaan, jao first aid box le kar aao."
Ayaan immediately obeyed, returning with the box. Sonia tenderly cleaned and bandaged Aayat's wound.
"Fikr mat karo, beta. Sab theek ho jayega."
Aayat's lips trembled. She wanted to believe, but her soul had been betrayed too many times.
"Shazia!" Sonia called to the maid. "Aayat ke liye room tayar karo."
"Guest room?" Shazia asked.
" Nahi! Jo room Ayaan ke liye tayar kiya tha, ab woh Aayat ka hai. Aur Ayaan... jaha hain wahi rahay ga... Theek hai na, beta?"
Ayaan smiled softly, "G mama."
Sonia continued, "Aur shazia kapde le aao abhi apni beti ke ... Subah naye kapde mangwa lenge hum."
But Ayaan interjected, "Nahi mama... main abhi jaata hoon kapde laine..." He left quickly, his heart beating fast-why was he so restless for her comfort?
Meanwhile, Sonia asked, "Kuch khaya hai tumne, Aayat?"
"Nahi, aunty... mujhe bhook nahi hai."
Sonia narrowed her eyes, " khana dekho gy toh khud hi bhook lag jaye gy aur Main khud khilaungi apni beti ko."
Aayat's lips curved into a faint, broken smile.
Sonia fed her lovingly, bite by bite, like a mother to her child. Sameer watched quietly, tears in his eyes. He knew Sonia had always longed for a daughter. Fate had finally placed one in their arms.