As soon as she stepped outside, her eyes fell on Aahil, who was leaning against the car.
His tall figure stood out even more in a brown leather jacket and light brown pants. He looked even more handsome than before. With a light beard and black sunglasses covering his eyes, both hands tucked into his pockets, he stood there waiting for her.
Seeing her approach, he straightened up and got into the car.
But Hoor's heart pounded hard as she came face-to-face with this tormentor. Steadying herself, she kept her gaze down and walked towards the car when someone called her.
"Miss Hoor—"
She turned around with questioning eyes to see Hanaan standing behind her.
"Is Aima inside? I went to her house, but she wasn't there. She's not answering her phone either..."
"She's inside," Hoor interrupted before he could finish.
Aahil, sitting inside the car, witnessed this scene, but since the car door and windows were closed, he couldn't hear their conversation.
"Okay, thanks."
Hoor didn't respond to his thanks and got into the car.
As soon as she sat down, Aahil sped the car so fast that if Hanaan hadn't stepped back, his foot might have ended up under the tires.
"Oops... Angry man," Hanaan muttered to himself before heading inside. He had to take Aima to the doctor.
---
The journey was silent. Aahil didn't glance at her even once, simply driving with a serious expression as if he were alone in the car.
Hoor was annoyed by his behavior. She also couldn't understand why Rukhsar Begum had asked her to come with Aahil. What was so important that it couldn't be discussed at home?
She had no answers to these questions, and the one who did had been silent the entire time.
Aahil took her to a restaurant near a park.
As soon as they sat down, a waitress quickly approached them.
"Yes, sir," she said, looking at Aahil with admiration.
It wasn't just her—most of the waitresses and other girls in the restaurant kept glancing at Aahil.
Hoor didn't know why, but she didn't like the way they were all looking at him.
"Black coffee," Aahil ordered, then looked at her.
"The same," Hoor quickly ordered black coffee as well, though she despised it. She just wanted to send the waitress away.
"Anything else?" The waitress asked sweetly, still focused on Aahil.
"Nothing. You may go now," Hoor dismissed her before Aahil could say anything.
The waitress shot her an annoyed look and walked away, stomping her feet.
Hoor felt relieved once she was gone and turned her attention to Aahil, who was watching her intently.
Aahil found Hoor's possessiveness amusing.
Hoor could only meet his gaze for a moment before she had to look away, feeling her eyelids grow heavy.
Aahil continued to watch her with interest, noticing the way her cheeks turned pink.
But then, as if recalling something, his expression hardened.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Look, Hoor, I live a straightforward life. I hate lies. Now that you're part of my life, I don't want you to hide anything from me."
Hoor looked at him in confusion, not understanding his words.
"I don't understand...?"
Aahil clenched his jaw.
"If you've had any affairs... I need to know now."
Finishing his sentence, he looked at her, but she was staring at him in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Do you doubt my character?"
Her voice felt like it was coming from a deep void. She barely held back her tears, but her lips still trembled.
"There's no need to overreact. You lived in London, and there, relationships are very common," he said mockingly, dismissing her with an indifferent expression.
Hoor felt as if the ground beneath her had disappeared. She had always lived cautiously, making sure her character was never questioned. Yet today, her own husband was asking her such things.
She didn't respond and simply lowered her face.
At that moment, the same waitress arrived with their coffee, smirking as she glanced at Hoor's downcast, tear-filled face before walking away.
"Looks like they broke up... means I have a chance," the waitress thought to herself, pleased, before leaving.
Aahil waited for the waitress to go, then turned back to Hoor.
Her lowered face bothered him. Taking a deep breath, he softened his tone.
"Hoorain... Hoor," he called gently.
But she kept her face down.
"Hoor," this time, his voice was firm.
She lifted her head, her eyes full of unshed tears, gazing at him with a silent plea.
For a moment, Aahil felt his heart waver. A strange urge rose within him—to wipe away her tears with his own hands.
Frightened by his own emotions, he quickly looked away.
"Here," he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.
"Thanks," Hoor whispered, taking it to wipe her tears.
"Do you want to stay with me?"
He didn't bring up the previous topic again.
Was that even a question? He was her husband; of course, she had to stay with him. But to her, he was more than just a husband.
"But what about your wife?" she finally voiced the question troubling her.
"She's no longer alive. She passed away two months ago in an accident," he replied in a neutral tone, his eyes fixed on his coffee.
Hoor couldn't figure out how to react.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, lowering her gaze.
Aahil raised an eyebrow, as if questioning whether she really meant it.
"You haven't answered my question," he reminded her.
His question confused her.
"My parents' decision is my decision," she finally said. It was true—whatever decision Rukhsar Begum and Salman Sahib made, she would accept it.
She felt like he relaxed a little at her response.
"So that's a yes."
Hoor looked at him in confusion.
"I already spoke to them. They told me to ask you once, but they're already on board," he said in a deep voice, his gaze fixed on her.
Hoor was shocked again. How had everything suddenly been resolved overnight, as if nothing had ever happened?
But more than those thoughts, it was Aahil's unwavering gaze that unsettled her.
To escape his scrutiny, she hurriedly grabbed her coffee and took a big sip.
It was a mistake.
She struggled to swallow the bitter liquid.
"Yuck," she made a face, feeling as if she had just drunk poison.
Aahil smirked at her expression and called for the waitress.
"Yes, sir," the waitress arrived, flashing a bright smile.
Hoor wanted to knock her teeth out, but her own discomfort took priority.
"One pineapple juice."
"Okay, sir."
"Poisonous coffee followed by pineapple juice... great combo," Hoor muttered under her breath.
A few minutes later, the juice arrived.
"Here, drink this," Aahil handed her the glass.
Hoor stared at him in surprise. He handed her the juice and then went back to typing on his phone.
She hadn't realized she had been staring at him with wide eyes until he spoke again.
"Drink it. I didn't order it for myself," he said with a knowing smirk.
Embarrassed, Hoor quickly lowered her head and focused on the juice. Luckily, pineapple was her favorite flavor.
---
The weekend passed in a blur, and Monday arrived again.
Hoor reached the office early. Only a few people had arrived so far, including John and his sidekick Derek, whom Aima absolutely despised.
She desperately needed coffee.
Just as she placed her cup on the counter—
"I just saw that a lizard came out of it,"
someone spoke right next to her ear.
"Ahhh!" She jumped back in fear at the sudden voice. Her heart was racing at ninety degrees per second. Thank God the cup was on the counter; otherwise, it would have been paying respects to the ground by now.
Fuming, she turned to glare at the creature standing behind her—Derek—who was now grinning after scaring her.
"What is your problem?" she snapped at Derek, who was looking down at something with intense focus.
"Miss psycho… What happened to your foot?"
Emma finally realized why he was staring down.
"That credit goes to you!"
"What do you mean?" He suddenly turned serious.
"This happened the day you pushed me and stole my joggers."
For the first time, Emma saw guilt flash across his face.
"Sorry..."
Emma's mouth fell open in shock. She didn't like this version of Derek at all. In fact, it didn't even feel like Derek.
"Close your mouth... A lizard might crawl inside if it sees an open invitation."
"Yuck!" The mere thought disgusted Emma. She was about to say "It's okay," but canceled the program immediately.
"You're disgusting!" She was referring to his lizard comment.
"Well, friends tend to rub off on each other..." He clapped her hand against his in a high-five and returned to his usual self.
"Wait, wait—when did we become friends?"
"Just now, when you realized that being friends with me comes with major benefits."
If there was an art to twisting words, Derek was a master at it.
"Ughh, benefits? These seem more like disasters," Emma thought to herself.
"Okay, Miss Psycho, today I'll buy you coffee."
Derek stepped aside and stood in front of the machine.
"What's going on here?"
Hearing John's voice, Emma immediately straightened up and looked towards him. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, while Derek remained unfazed as if John's presence made no difference to him.
"Offering condolences."
Emma and John both turned to him in confusion.
"Condolences?? For what?"
John glanced at Emma and then back at Derek.
"Emma's breakup."
"WHAAAT?!"
Emma shrieked, while John's brows furrowed in confusion.
"This is an office. Take your breakup drama outside," John said flatly. "Derek, in my office."
With that, John walked away, leaving Emma glaring at the insolent troublemaker.
"Who did I break up with?!"
"Your foot. Who else? You acted like it was a love story."
Derek handed her a cup of coffee, smirked, and disappeared before she could retaliate.
Emma gritted her teeth in frustration.
---
Back in the office, John paced restlessly, waiting for Derek.
He had gone out looking for him, but upon seeing him talking to Emma, he had stopped. And then, against his nature, he had even asked what they had been talking about.
"What happened? Skipped your morning jog, so you're making up for it here?"
Derek entered and took a jab at John's pacing.
"I need a personal secretary."
John ignored the sarcasm and got straight to the point.
"John, I'm a guy. Why are you so determined to turn me into a woman?"
Derek twisted his words immediately.
"Stupid. I'm telling you to find one for me. Put out an ad in a magazine."
John snapped in irritation.
"You wanted me for modeling, didn't you? But here, you have me doing office work instead."
Derek glared at him, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Are you doing it or not?" John asked impatiently.
"I'll do it… You'll owe me one."
His tone was nothing short of regal.
"Anything else?"
Derek had already guessed that John hadn't called him in for this task.
Besides, he had noticed his unease… and the reason behind it.
"What were you talking about with Miss Emma?"
John tried to keep his voice neutral, and to some extent, he succeeded. But Derek was… Derek.
"Emma? Who's that?"
His acting was so over-the-top that if the Oscars knew about him, they would have handed him an award on the spot.
"The one you were talking to earlier."
"Oh… Miss Psycho. So, her name is Emma?"
Derek smirked meaningfully at John, who had his back to him, staring out the window.
It was John's attempt to hide his expression from Derek. Because he could hide his feelings from everyone… but not from him.
"You already knew..."
John clenched his fists tightly, feeling suffocated.
"Knew what?"
"Her foot… Didn't you see the bandage?"
For once, Derek took pity on him and decided to give him a straightforward answer. Well… as straightforward as Derek could get.
"Can't you ever say things normally?"
John finally relaxed, while Derek silently observed his every reaction.
"I'm not normal. I'm Derek."
And expecting normal behavior from Derek was… highly abnormal.
"I had no idea," John replied sarcastically.
Derek just shrugged.
"Okay, look at this—this picture…"
John quickly changed the topic, shifting his focus back to work. Otherwise, Derek would have driven him crazy.
---
To be continued…