Chapter 26
The black car rolled silently through the streets of Delhi, the city lights reflecting in the tinted windows. Aayat leaned her head back against the leather seat, her award resting untouched beside her.
Her body carried the elegance of a queen, but her heart… her heart was breaking quietly inside her chest.
She reached Khan Mansion at midnight. The tall gates swung open, welcoming her back to the place she had called home for eight years. This mansion had been her refuge when the Malik house had thrown her out, when the people she had lived for had looked into her eyes and chosen to believe lies.
The guard bowed low. “Welcome home, ma’am.”
But the word home stung.
~
As soon as she entered her room, the mask cracked. She shut the door, leaned her back against it, and slid down to the floor. Her body shook as silent sobs broke free.
The award sat on her desk, shining in the dim lamp light, but her eyes saw something else — the past.
Rayyan’s smile. His hand holding hers in their wedding. His voice whispering “ Mubarak ho aayat. Ab se tum sirf meri ho.”
She pressed her palms against her ears as if she could silence the memories.
But they came anyway — the night when pictures had been thrown in her face, when everyone looked at her with disgust. When Rayyan’s silence had killed her more than words ever could.
Her body curled into itself, her tears soaking her gown.
“Why, Rayyan? please nikal jao mere zehan se, meri zindagi se, aur ... Aur mere dil se..."
~
Her phone buzzed suddenly. She wiped her face quickly, fixing her hair, forcing the mask back. It was a video call from Sonia Khan — the woman who had become her mother in every way blood had failed.
She answered.
Sonia’s warm smile filled the screen. “Beta… tumhari speech…Bohat acchi thi mashallah.”
Aayat’s lips trembled into a small smile. “Mama… mei....”
Before she could reply further, the phone shifted suddenly and another face popped into the frame.
Ayaan Khan.
He leaned closer to the camera, smirking. “Bas ek sawal hai tumse…”
Aayat frowned. “Ayaan—”
“Tumne speech mein kaha… ‘my friend’. Sirf friend?” He exaggerated the word, his brows shooting up. “ seriously sirf 'friend.' Tum keh sakti thi ‘special thanks to Ayaan Khan’… duniya ko bata deti , mein hoon tumhara wahid dost... Lekin nahi… tumne sirf ‘friend’ keh diya...'FRIEND'.”
Aayat rolled her eyes. “Ayaan, don’t start—”
But he cut in, pretending to Angry," Har waqat tum agh barsati rehti ho mujh gareeb pr ‘Ayaan ye mat karo, Ayaan yaha se nikal jao, Ayaan tum annoying ho’… har waqt mera naam muh mein rehta hai tumhare. Lekin jaha acche alfaz bolne the… waha? Silence. Bas ek boring ‘friend.’ Wah ji wah.”
Aayat pressed her lips together to hide a smile. “Tum pagal ho gay ho.”
“Pagal? Main?” Ayaan gasped dramatically. “Tum ho Dragon Queen. Har waqt aag barsati ho. Aur speech dete waqt toh tum full Hitler ki behen lag rahi thi straight face, no emotion. Main screen ke saamne popcorn le kar soch raha tha — yeh speech de rahi thi ya damki?”
Sonia laughed in the background. “Bas karo, Ayaan.”
But Ayaan was unstoppable. He leaned even closer. “Aur ek baat suno — tum bohot mean ho. Mujhe khud pe shak ho raha hai… main tumhara dost hoon ya dushman? Naam lena tha yaar. At least ‘troublemaker Ayaan’ keh deti. Lekin tumne toh mujhe invisible bana diya.”
Aayat couldn’t help it — she burst out laughing, tears still in her eyes but this time from his ridiculousness.
“Tumhe na… seriously koi award milna chahiye for nonsense,” she said between chuckles.
Ayaan grinned " hahaha very funny..”
But then his eyes softened. He didn’t say it aloud, but he knew. He knew what this night had cost her. He knew she had stood like steel in front of the world, but here, alone, she would be breaking. He knew because he understood her more than she allowed.
Sonia gently took the phone back. “Beta… I am proud of you. Aur tumhe joke btau , Tumhare baba, Tumhari speech sabko send kr ray hain aur kahay rahay h meri beti h ye..... Pr sach m aayat, tum bohut pyaari lag rhi thi.You’ve carried yourself with so much grace.
Ab agle six months wahan India mein hi rehna hoga, business dekhna hai tumhe waha khud.
Humein khushi hogi. Aur hum bhi aa rahe hain, kuch dinon mein. ”
Sameer’s voice came from the background: “Beti, we are proud of you.”
Aayat’s eyes welled again, but she smiled. “Thank you, baba.”
Ayaan stretched his arms in mock laziness. “Main toh filhal busy hoon… kaam ka pahad hai mujh pr. Don’t miss me too much.”
But his eyes twinkled with a secret he didn’t share — he was already packing for Delhi.
~
Malik Mansion
That same night, in the Malik house, another scene unfolded.
Hayaat rushed to her prayer mat, tears streaming. She bent down, offering shukrana ke nafl. Her whisper was soft, trembling:
“Ya Allah… shukriya meri api zinda hain. apne unki hifazat ki aj tk aur agay b ap Unki hifazat karna, Allah. Unke har dard ko dur kar dena ya Allah."
Her heart swelled with the resolve — she would meet her sister. She would hug her again.
As she wiped her tears, her brothers entered quietly — Saad and Huzaif.
Saad’s face was pale. His voice broke. “Hayaat… I failed her. meri choti behan thi woh aur mein uski hifazat nhi kr paya 8 saal pehle.Aur maine uspe sawal uthaye. Maine bharosa nahi kiya. Aj tak wo guilt mujhe kha raha hai. Hayaat… tum milne jaogi usse, haina? Aur wo tumse zaroor mile gy i know...Please… mujhe bhi le jao. Main maafi mangna chahta hoon.”
Hayaat’s eyes widened with shock.
Huzaif stepped forward, his voice heavy.
“Aur main… maine us par haath uthaya tha. Us raat… jab woh ro rahi thi… aur keh rahi thi us pr bharosa karu… phir bhi maine usse thappar mara.” His eyes brimmed with tears.
“Main khud ko kabhi maaf nahi kar paya, Hayaat.
Aur na kabhi kar paunga. Lekin main usse kehna chahta hoon…
main galat tha. Aur meri galti ki koi maafi nhi h but phir b sorry kehna chahta hoon. "
Hayaat covered her mouth, tears pouring. She whispered, “mein nahi janti wo ap dono ko maaf kre gy ya nahi ... Ap logo ka toh pata nhin , maloom nhi wo mujhe maaf kre gy ya nhi ... Mujhse mile gy ya nhin.. mein khud nhin janti bhai.”
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Rayyan’s Storm
Meanwhile, in Shahbaz Malik’s house, Rayyan stormed into his private office. His rage exploded — glass paperweights, files, even a lamp went flying across the room.
His chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot.
Ramsha rushed in. “Rayyan! Kya kar rahe ho tum?”
“Get out!” he roared.
But Ramsha dared to step closer. “Tum khud ko us ladki ke liye kyun taqleef de rahe ho? Humein laga woh us aadmi ke sath gayi thi. Pr dekho... wo us k sath nhin thi.. maloom nhi kis k sath thi.... Tumhe kya lagta hai woh yaha tak kaise pohanchi? Usse toh padhai ka shauk bhi nahi tha. Marks hamesha kam aate the. Aur ab? Ceo? maloom nhi kaise yha tk pohanchi?maloom nhi kitna sir jhukaye gy hamara.”
“BAS KARO!” Rayyan’s shout shook the walls. His voice cracked. “Chup ho jao Ramsha… nikal jao yaha se!”
His chest tightened as memories clawed back — Aayat’s laughter when they were children, her innocent eyes, the secret he had buried all his life.
He had loved her long before anyone knew. Loved her silently, prayed for her, begged for her in every sajda. And when Allah gave her to him… he had believed it was destiny.
And then — betrayal.
Or what he thought was betrayal.
Rayyan sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. The tears he never allowed anyone to see poured freely.
“Aayat… kyun?” he whispered hoarsely. “Main ne tumse sirf mohabbat ki thi. Aur tumne mujhe tod diya.”
The mansion echoed with silence — except for the sound of a man breaking.
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