by Sara Naveed
‘Zynah, trust me. That guy does not deserve you. He is seeing other women behind your back. He is cheating on you!’
‘He can’t do that!’ she screamed.
‘Why not?’ I screamed back.
‘He just can’t!’ She turned her face away as tears rolled down her cheeks. It felt like she was hiding something from me.
She stood up and rushed out of the café. I followed her.
‘Zynah, he can!’ I shouted after her. ‘Why would a loyal husband party with other women on a weekend night instead of spending time with his wife? Tell me, why?’ I egged her on, holding her hand to make her stop.
‘You don’t know him, so stop it!’ she said, shoving me away.
‘And you know him? You can vouch for his loyalty?’
‘Yes, I know him, dammit! He can’t flirt with women,’ she said, frowning agitatedly.
‘What?’ I looked at her in disbelief. ‘I saw him with those women with my own eyes!’
‘He is not into women!’
‘What? Who is he into then?’
‘He’s into men!’
My jaw dropped when I heard her say those last four words. What did she mean? Had she made a mistake? She looked at me dejectedly. I took a step towards her and held her as she dropped her head, her shoulders slumped. I’d never seen her so vulnerable, so weak, so lifeless. Who was this person standing in front of me? Where was my old Zynah? What had Aariz turned her into? What had this marriage done to her?
‘What are you saying, Zynah?’ I asked, my lips trembling.
‘He’s into men . . .’ she mumbled. ‘My husband is gay,’ she blurted.
PART THREE
Zynah
Where It All Began
London, UK
My life changed after I got married. I used to be the kind of person who couldn’t tolerate injustice or lies. I used to speak up, voice my opinion. But I was a different person now. The last three years had made me dispirited and subdued.
After I finished college, my father suggested that I join his friend’s, Uncle Kamran’s, interior design firm but I refused. It was my dream job but I wasn’t ready to take on new responsibilities. I wanted to explore the world, visit beautiful cities, meet new people, learn new languages and have fun. There were days when I just wanted to roam the streets of London, visiting my favourite music stores and cafes. However, one night, one meeting, or should I say one person made me question my life choices—Aariz Kamran. Uncle Kamran had thrown a party at his house in honour of his son, Aariz, who had just returned from Canada to join his father’s business. I had met Uncle Kamran and his wife, Aunty Raima, at a couple of dinners but had never met their son. I was standing near the food counters, talking to someone, when he walked in. Our eyes locked briefly and in just that second, I lost my heart to him. His good looks were to be blamed. My eyes followed him as he walked to the other end of the room. I noticed how he brushed his hair back with his fingers every few seconds; how he threw his head back when he laughed; how keenly he listened, nodding ever so slightly in agreement. I studied him intently, tracing his lean body, his broad shoulders, his chiselled features, his taut jawline, his full lips, his slightly ruffled hair. I was new to these feelings—the flutter in my chest; the prickle of excitement; the quickening of pulse, and the wetness between my legs. That night I made up my mind to take Daddy up on his offer. It was the only way to be close to Aariz. I was ready to join FK Designs.
Crazy in Love
It did not take me long to fall head over heels for Aariz. I was amazed at how quickly I had developed feelings for this man. It wasn’t entirely my fault—Aariz was irresistible. He was soft-spoken, decent and quite mature. I soon realized that I wasn’t the only one who was smitten with his good looks. My other colleagues too nursed similar feelings for him. He was the subject of most of our lunch conversations, where they spoke highly of him and blushed whenever he addressed them. But I wasn’t jealous because he flattered me with his attentions. Whenever he walked past our room, he made it a point to stop and talk to me for a few minutes. This, of course, made the other women envious. When they questioned me, I assured them that there was nothing between us and that we were only family friends, which was, in fact, true. They believed me at first but their suspicions were confirmed the day I was promoted to an assistant designer’s post after completing the probation period. I decided to ignore their comments and focus on my work.
Aariz and I did meet outside office—we sometimes walked over to the nearby coffee shop for lunch or attended dinner parties at each other’s homes with our families. The best part about these meetings was the conversations. We talked about everything—from discussing the most random things to giving voice to our goals and desires. He told me about his life in Canada—his house, his friends, their favourite haunts—and how much he missed it. He often basked in the memory of his past, relating anecdotes from his time there. I enjoyed listening to these stories. They gave me a sense of his likes, dislikes, hobbies and interests. He took a keen interest in my hobbies, interests and things I loved to do too. He never looked away when we talked.
Over the next few weeks, I became quite close to him and his family. We definitely shared something. Something more than just friendship. I did not tell him how I felt because I expected him to make the first move. My friend Soniya told me I was in love with him. Maybe I really was, but I wasn’t sure. At times, I felt he didn’t want to rush into anything. I wanted the same, but the desire to be close to him became more intense as the days passed.
I craved to be in his company or lock eyes with him in office. At home, I stalked him on Facebook for hours. At the dinner table, I only spoke about him and our time together. My parents soon realized I was crazily in love with him. One day, my father asked me if I wanted to marry him, and I instantly said yes. I just wanted to be with him and spend every moment of my life with him. I’d known him for almost a year now, and I couldn’t be surer about my decision.
Finally, the day came when he asked me out on a date. It took me an entire day to decide what I would wear. I settled for a pink satin maxi dress and coiled my hair into a neat bun at the nape of my neck. My parents said I looked beautiful.
He picked me up from my place at 7 p.m. and then drove us to his favourite eatery in London, The Ledbury. Everything about him was extraordinary. Like a fine gentleman, he opened the door for me and led me inside the restaurant. Dressed in a camel-coloured blazer and beige pants, he looked breathtakingly handsome. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask if you wanted to come here or not,’ he said as he pulled out a chair for me.
‘It’s your favourite place. Why wouldn’t I want to come here?’ I replied, smiling at him.
My cheeks crimsoned when I realized he was looking at me. He always had this effect on me.
‘What’s the name of your favourite restaurant here?’ he asked, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.
‘Oh, there are so many. Original Lahore Restaurant, Hard Rock Café, The Barbary . . . etc. etc.’
‘Next time, we’ll go to a place of your choice,’ he said as he picked up the menu.
‘Sure,’ I said.
After we were done with dinner, he ordered a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. He offered it to me but I refused. This was not the time to get carried away. I wanted to know what else he had planned for us tonight. His eyes bored into mine as he sipped his drink. I returned his intent gaze, my cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson in the process. Suddenly, muffled giggles snapped me out of my trance, and I turned around to see what was happening. A group of girls, seated at the table behind us, were looking at Aariz and smiling flirtatiously. I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. He sensed my discomfort and turned around to see what was causing it. He looked at the girls and then back at me, and I did the same. Both of us stared at each other for a second and then burst out laughing.
‘You know, sometimes, I hate it when women
give me so much attention,’ he said between laughs.
I continued to giggle.
‘Don’t they have anything else to talk about?’
‘Well, they can’t resist talking about you, maybe?’
‘No, but I don’t like it,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘I always thought men enjoyed getting attention from women,’ I said, clearing my throat.
‘Yeah, they do, but I don’t. It’s high time mindsets change.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘I mean, isn’t it quite stereotypical, girls going after guys and vice versa?’
‘What?’ I laughed at his question.
‘What happened?’ He shrugged.
‘That’s how it has always been. Men chasing women. Women chasing men. It’s natural. A universal truth.’
‘Okay, if you say so,’ he said, rolling his eyes.
We left the restaurant and walked towards the car.
I shivered as the cold air hit me and regretted not bringing my shawl.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his brows furrowed in concern.
‘I’m fine,’ I lied.
‘No, you’re shivering.’
Before I could say another word, he took off his camel-coloured blazer and wrapped it around my shoulders. I inhaled his perfume as he leaned closer, sending shivers down my spine. I slightly turned my head to look at his face—his almond-brown eyes, the long lashes, his perfectly shaped nose and his sensual lips. He was perfect.
‘Are you okay now?’ he whispered, his breath intermingling with mine.
‘Yes,’ I whispered back, looking into his dreamy eyes.
‘Good,’ he said, looking back into mine.
Both of us made our way to the car. We remained quiet during the journey homewards, lost in our respective dreamworlds.
‘We’re here,’ he declared as he brought the car to a halt outside my house. There was a pregnant pause as we both looked ahead at the road.
‘Thank you for the lovely evening, Aariz. I had a great time,’ I finally said, turning my face towards him.
‘Thank you for coming,’ he said, smiling.
‘Umm, I should return your jacket. Wait,’ I said, holding the front lapel.
‘It’s okay.’ He held my hand. My heartbeat stopped. ‘You can keep it. I’ll take it some other time.’
‘Sure?’ I asked, my voice softer than a whisper.
‘Of course, Zynah.’ He smiled.
I wrapped my fingers around his hand and inched closer, closing the gap between us. Slowly, I put my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.
‘Zy . . .’
Before he could say my name, I pressed my lips against his and slowly devoured them. He shifted in his seat, wrapping his arms around the small of my back. I leaned closer, deepening our kiss. I could not make out whether he was kissing me back with the same intensity or not. The feeling was exhilarating yet beautiful. I could live in this moment for an eternity.
Suddenly, the silence was pierced by a loud screech of brakes. He jerked his head up, interrupting the kiss. I flushed as I realized what I’d just done. I stole a glance at him but he was busy looking at the car that had stopped with a loud thud. I searched his face for a reaction but he remained impassive.
‘Uh, maybe I should just leave,’ I said, picking up my handbag.
‘All right,’ he mumbled.
I got out of the car and slung the handbag over my shoulder.
‘Zynah,’ Aariz said.
I turned around to look back at him.
‘Goodnight,’ he said, smiling.
‘Goodnight,’ I said before hurrying inside my house.
I shut the door behind me and collapsed on the floor.
What did I just do? Did I really kiss Aariz Kamran? Oh God! Where did that courage come from? But . . . did he . . . did he kiss me back? Of course, he did. I think I’m going mad . . . Does love really make you this crazy? I wondered.
The next morning, my parents quizzed me about the previous night. They wanted a blow-by-blow account of how the evening panned out. Honestly, I didn’t know what to tell them. I was as confused as they were. Aariz had not proposed to me or professed his love but something had surely happened between us and that made me believe that he was interested.
‘Did anything happen last night?’ my mother asked, standing on the threshold of the kitchen. ‘Did he say something to you?’ she asked again when I didn’t respond.
‘Mummy, please!’ I shot her a fuming look and stormed out of the kitchen.
‘What’s wrong with you? Tell me, did something happen?’ she asked, following me to the dining table.
‘What do you want to know?’ I asked her as I spread peanut butter on a slice of toast.
‘Did he say something?’ she asked again.
‘Um, no,’ I said, shaking my head.
‘Did he do something?’ She raised a brow.
‘Mummy!’ I frowned.
‘Then what happened?’ she asked, getting impatient. ‘Tell me, na.’
‘I think, he likes me too,’ I finally said.
‘You think?’ she asked. Right then, my father joined us at the dining table.
I nodded, biting into the toast.
‘Do you want me to talk to Kamran?’ Daddy asked, taking a seat beside me.
‘Wait, what will you ask him?’ I asked.
‘I will ask him if his son is interested in marrying my daughter and see if we can fix a date.’
‘Daddy, really?’ I asked, blushing scarlet.
‘I didn’t know girls still blushed on hearing about their marriage,’ Daddy teased me.
‘Malik Sahib, stop wasting your time. Go and talk to Kamran bhai and see what he says. I’m sure Aariz must have spoken to his parents by now,’ Mummy said.
‘Okay, madam. I will,’ Daddy said.
‘I love you, Mummy!’ I stood up and wrapped my arms around her.
‘I can’t wait to see you as a bride, my darling!’
The Never-Ending Wait
When Daddy spoke to Uncle Kamran the next day, he said that Aariz wanted to settle down eventually but right now marriage was not his priority. He had a lot on his mind what with his new life in London and the family business. He wanted to focus on these aspects for now and hadn’t given marriage a thought. I felt dejected when I learnt of this. He had made me feel so special the other day. I was under the impression that he was in love with me and couldn’t wait to get married. However, I was wrong. In fact, when I met him the next time, he acted nonchalant about the entire situation. He didn’t even mention our date or the kiss or the fact that my father had asked his father about our marriage. He greeted me cordially and then went about his work. I was taken aback by his strange behaviour. Why was he acting like this, like nothing had happened between us? I was confused. And I wanted answers. I wanted to know why he had forged a close bond with me if he wasn’t even interested. I wanted to know if he was involved with someone else. During the lunch break, I barged into his cabin, taking him by surprise.
‘Zynah! Come in,’ he said animatedly.
‘I hope I am not disturbing you,’ I said, taking a seat opposite him.
‘You can never disturb me,’ he said, leaning forward.
‘Thanks,’ I said, tucking my hair behind my ears.
‘Want some coffee?’
‘Sure,’ I murmured.
He picked up his telephone and ordered two cups of coffee.
‘So, how’s work going? I hope Anna is training you well.’
Anna, the senior graphic designer, was my mentor.
‘Yeah, she is,’ I said with a weak smile. I had not come here to discuss my training. I wanted to talk about us. ‘Uh, I . . .’ I didn’t know how to start.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked, concerned.
‘Actually, I came here to talk to you . . . about the other night,’ I said at last.
He slowly shifted in his seat, his face composed.
‘Aariz, I know Uncle Kamran and Daddy have had a conversation. I just wanted to know what you feel about it. About us . . . about our marr . . .’
‘Listen, Zynah.’ He cut me in between. I looked at him, my face solemn. ‘It’s not what you think, okay? I like you. In fact, I like you a lot. I feel good when you’re around.’
I felt a bit relieved to know he liked me.
‘But I don’t want to settle down right now. Don’t you think it’s too early for both of us? Perhaps, we should get to know each other more.’
I looked at him again, confused.
‘But we have spent so much time together. You still think you don’t know me?’ I asked him.
‘Zynah . . .’ He snorted. ‘It’s not only about me. How well do you know me?’
‘I know everything about you!’ I exclaimed.
‘No, Zynah. You don’t,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘What?’ I asked, baffled.
‘You think you know me but you don’t. You’ve only known me for a year.’
‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘It’s never enough, Zynah. Trust me,’ he said.
I felt helpless. I did not know what to say or how to convince him.
‘So,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘I’d like to give our relationship some time before we get married. We have to be sure that this is what we want. Because I don’t want us to regret this for the rest of our lives,’ he declared.
‘Aariz, I won’t regret marrying you. I am sure about that!’ I insisted.
‘I want you to think about it, Zynah. Please try to understand?’ He put his hand on mine and I shivered slightly. ‘Plus, I have other things on my mind right now. I have to take this company forward. Strive hard for it. So, please.’
I looked at him in despair. I could not say anything else to convince him, so I gave up. Heaving a sigh, I nodded at him.
‘Thank you, Zynah,’ he whispered, his eyes gleaming. ‘Let’s just wait for the right time. Okay?’
I nodded at him again, not sure how to respond.
I walked out of his cabin, feeling drained. Perhaps I was not someone he was looking for. Maybe I lacked something. Maybe I wasn’t perfect. Then why had he said he wanted more time? Perhaps he did like me but did not want to get married right away. He never said he did not like me or was in love with someone else. Couldn’t I give him what he wanted? Couldn’t I give him more time? Of course I could. I could do anything for him. Anything.