Chapter 34
Author's POV:
The Malik Mansion’s main hall was filled with chatter and laughter.
Nafeesa malik was pouring tea for everyone, Shahbaz Malik was discussing business strategies with Saad and Huzaif, while Ramsha sat like a queen.
The atmosphere looked normal — until the grand wooden door of the mansion opened with a slow creak.
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the entrance.
And there she was.
She stepped in, dressed in an elegant pastel suit, her dupatta perfectly draped over her shoulders, her hair loose and shining under the chandelier lights.
Her face carried that calm confidence — the kind that makes others restless.
A small smile curved her lips, and her heels clicked softly against the marble floor.
She stopped just inside the hall, glanced at everyone, and softly yet firmly said:
Aayat (smiling):
"Assalam-u-Alaikum everyone… Mujhe miss toh nahi kiya aap sab ne?"
The laughter died instantly. The hall fell silent.
Nafeesa’s hand shook, and the teacup slipped from her fingers, crashing onto the floor, spilling hot chai all over the carpet.
Shahbaz removed his glasses slowly, staring in disbelief.
Saad and Huzaif exchanged shocked looks, frozen in their places.
Ramsha’s entire face drained of color; her lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears.
Ramsha (shrieking, standing up):
"Tumhari himmat kaise hui wapas yaha aane ki? Dafaa ho jao mere ghar se!"
Aayat tilted her head slightly, still smiling, her calmness piercing through Ramsha’s rage.
Aayat (soft voice, but with power):
"Ghar…? Ghar toh ghar k ander rehne wale logo se banta h , un k rishton se banta hain. Aur rishton k hisab se mera iss ghar par utna hi haq hai jitna tumhara… Shayad tum bhool gayi ho, main Rayyan Malik ki pehli bewi hoon. Aayat Rayyan Malik."
Everyone gasped at her bold words.
Ramsha’s body trembled with fury, her voice broke as she shouted again:
"Chup karo! Tum jaisi aurat ka is ghar mein koi haq nahi! Dafaa ho jao, suna tumne?! Yaha tumhe koi nahi chahta."
Before Aayat could respond, a strong voice echoed from the doorway behind her.
Rayyan (commanding tone):
"Main chahta hoon."
Everyone turned. Rayyan stood at the door, Aayat’s bag in his hand. He walked straight toward her, ignoring the shocked faces of his family. As he reached her, he set the bag down and without hesitation, slipped his hand into hers — their fingers interlocked tightly.
The hall erupted with murmurs.
Ramsha’s tears finally spilled. Her chest tightened as she watched them standing together, hand in hand. “Nahi… mein isey phir se jeetne nhin day sakti. Rayyan mera hai… sirf mera…”
Nafeesa stepped forward, anger trembling in her voice:
"Rayyan, tum bhool gaye ho? Isne kya kiya tha… bhag gayi thi ye! Hum sab ka sir jhuka diya tha isne!"
Rayyan turned his sharp gaze toward her.
"Sab yaad hai mujhe, Ami. Lekin phir bhi… ye yahin rahegi. Kyunki ye meri bewi hai. Ye ghar iska bhi hai."
Nafeesa (furious):
"Nahi beta! Ye ghar hum sab ka hai, aur faisla sab milkar karenge ke ye yahan reh sakti hai ya nahi!"
Rayyan’s voice hardened, his grip on Aayat’s hand tightening.
"Toh maaf kijiyega, Ami. Iss baar faisla sabki marzi ke khilaf hoga.
Aayat meri bewi hai, aur yeh is ghar mein mere saath rahegi.
Aur agar aap logon ko manzoor nahi… toh main bhi Aayat ke saath yahan se chala jaunga.
Jahan meri bewi ke liye jagah nahi, wahan mein be nahi rahuga. ."
The shock deepened.
Shahbaz Malik finally rose from his chair, his towering figure imposing as he faced Rayyan.
"Rayyan! Tum is ladki ke liye hum sab ke khilaf ja rahe ho? Jo hum sab ka sir jhuka kar bhag gayi thi?"
Before Rayyan could reply, Aayat stepped forward — her calm voice cutting through the tension.
Aayat (smiling politely):
"Beech mein bolne ke liye maafi chahti hoon… Lekin, Mr. Shahbaz Malik, maine kisi ka sir nahi jhukaya tha. Aap logon ne khud hi apne sar jhuka diye the."
Gasps filled the hall. Shahbaz’s face turned red with anger.
"Tumhe beech mein bolne ki ijaazat nahi hai!"
Aayat shrugged lightly, walking past him, and sat down gracefully on the sofa. She crossed one leg over the other, leaned back, and placed her feet on the table in front of her. Pulling out her phone, she said casually:
Aayat (with a smirk):
"Fine. Main chup ho jaati hoon. Waise bhi mere paas itna fuzool waqt nahi hai. Main thaki hui hoon aur tum logon ka daily soap dekhne se behtar hai ke main apna kam kar lu. Tab tak tum sab decide kar lo ke mujhe karna kya hai."
The entire hall stared at her in disbelief. She didn’t even look up — as if they didn’t exist.
Just then, Rashid Malik, Shagufta, and Hayaat entered. They froze at the sight.
Rashid (furious):
"Aayat! Tumhe sharam nahi aati?!"
Aayat finally looked up from her phone, her face innocent as she replied:
"Bethne mein kaise sharam, Mr. Malik?"
Ramsha screamed again, her patience snapping:
"Tumhe bethne ki ijazat kisne di?!"
Rayyan was about to speak, but Aayat suddenly laughed, her tone sharp yet mocking.
"Toh kya karun? Main be khadi rahun? Pr Mere paas itni energy nahi hai.Tum logo ki tarha pura din faultu nahin bethi rehti......ab Tum log apna faisla karo ... Mere pass zada time nahi hain."
She looked back at her phone, ignoring everyone.
Rayyan smiled slightly,
"Aayat yahin rahegi abse. Ye ghar uska be hain, wo jo karna chahe kr skti hain."
Shahbaz angrily,
"Rayyan—!"
But before he could say more, Aayat stood up suddenly.
"Chalo, theek hai phir. Ap log lagao, panchayat....Main ja rahi hoon sone. Kal meri ek zaroori meeting hai. Good night."
She began walking toward the staircase.
Ramsha ran forward, blocking her way, her face twisted with rage.
"Tumhe lagta hai main tumhe yaha rehne doongi?! ye mera ghar hain..."
She raised her hand to slap Aayat in front of everyone.
Gasps echoed around the hall.
But Aayat caught her wrist mid-air.
Aayat’s smile faded, her eyes sharp and cold. In one swift move, she twisted Ramsha’s wrist behind her back.
Ramsha (screaming in pain):
"Ahhh! Mera bazu.... Chodo mujhe tumhara damagh kharab hain kya..."
Aayat (low, dangerous tone):
"Dubara agar yeh haath mere samne phir se uthaya… toh sirf modungi nahi. Tod kar doosre haath mein de dungi. Yaad rakhna."
She shoved her hard. Ramsha fell to the floor, clutching her wrist, humiliated.
Aayat dusted her hands off like she was brushing dirt away, then turned calmly and walked up the stairs.
Rayyan’s deep voice followed her.
"Subah baat karte hain."
And without waiting for anyone, he followed her upstairs.
Everyone else remained frozen, shocked by the storm that had just entered their house.
~
Aayat stopped outside a familiar door. Her breath hitched as she opened it.
Her eyes widened.
Everything was the same. The room she had left 8 years ago stood untouched—her books neatly stacked, her bangles on the dresser, her teddy bear perched on the shelf. Even her clothes in the wardrobe remained.
Her throat tightened. She turned, only to find Rayyan standing silently behind her.
Aayat (whispering): “Ye… ye kya hai? Ye toh…”
Rayyan stepped closer, his gaze soft.
“Tumhara kamra hai. Tumhari cheezen hain. Jaise tum chod kar gayi thi, waise hi hain sab.”
Her eyes searched his face, disbelief clouding her.
“Inhe phenk kyu nahi diya?”
“Kyunki ye tumhari hain.”
Aayat’s heart throbbed painfully. She quickly turned away, hiding her emotions.
Rayyan gently cupped her face.
“Jao. Fresh ho jao. Tumhe neend aa rahi hogi.”
She slipped from his touch, opened the wardrobe, and pulled out an old night suit. Without a word, she disappeared into the bathroom.
When she returned, drying her hair, her steps faltered.
Rayyan was sitting on the bed, changed, leaning against the headboard, scrolling his phone as if it were the most natural thing.
Aayat frowned, walking to him.
“Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?”
Rayyan looked up, calm.
“Kya matlab kya kar raha hoon? Sone laga hoon.”
Aayat (snapping): “Rayyan! Waha ja kr so jaha roz sote ho.”
But he smirked faintly.
“Main wahi so raha hoon jahan roz sota hoon.”
Before she could react, he suddenly grabbed her waist, spun her, and pulled her down onto the bed beside him.
Their faces were inches apart. His breath fanned her skin.
Rayyan (low, husky): “So jao ab. Neeche pehle hi jawab de de kar thak chuka hoon. Aur dene ki himmat nahi bachi. So jao.”
Her heart thundered. She shoved him back, turning to face away, pulling the blanket tightly.
But before she could settle, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her back against him. Her back pressed into his chest.
Rayyan (whispering near her ear):
“Good night, Mrs. Rayyan Malik.”
Her breath caught. Slowly, she closed her eyes, whispering back:
“Good night.”
And in that fragile silence, both drifted into a night of unspoken truths, broken pasts, and a storm yet to come.
---