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|11| Not a Damsel in Distress

Chapter Eleven is here.

In-line comments are welcome!

«She has mastered surviving, it's her time to live now.»

|~★~|

Humaira woke up slightly earlier than her normal routine to steal a little me-time for herself before getting caught up in her busy schedule. She was enjoying the warmth of mild sunrays on the terrace.

"Good morning."

She turned to see the speaker, walking towards her with a weary smile.

She breathed in, "Ashar bhai," acknowledging his presence, she returned to her previous view. "When did you arrive? Faiza Appi came with you too?"

"Dawn. And no, she didn't; I came here for your engagement."

She nodded in response.

"Is anyone forcing you into this marriage?" His question was direct.

Humaira scoffed at his question and with an amused smile, she faced him, "Do you really think anyone can force me to do anything?"

Ashar observed the woman standing in front of him. She was the same as he remembered her; strong, unaffected, and reserved.

"I haven't seen someone as strong as you." The compliment had a tint of concealed admiration.

"As if people like you left me with any other option." Humaira's simple statement left a bitter taste on her listener.

"And you have no idea how sorry I am for that. I should have known better." Ashar sounded guilty.

Humaira looked at him straight, but Ashar's eyes were fixed on his hands, intertwined and resting on the boundary wall.

"If you are expecting me to say something for being sorry for your actions... Then you are wrong." Her voice was cold. "Feeling sorry is not enough for me."

"I was young, Humaira." Ashar faced her, standing straight. Even with his tall frame, he was feeling powerless in front of the person standing before him. Her eyes reflected the hate she had been carrying with her for all those years.

"Young. Yup, you were young." She agreed. "And I was a child, legally."

There was a moment of heavy silence. Though they were standing in open space, Ashar felt suffocated by his guilt which never left him.

"I always had a soft spot for you, Humaira." His slow voice broke the silence, "I just didn't know how to act on it. My approach towards you was inappropriate but my intention was-"

His voice was silenced when Humaira's palm met his face with enough force to make a striking sound.

"Do hell with your intention!" She shouted, "I was a child who didn't need to know what you felt about me and definitely didn't need to be cornered in an empty room and touched without my consent."

Humaira's eyes were raging with disgust for him. Ashar's clear complexion was changing its colour as a result of her assault. His jaws clenched, and his eyes never dared to meet hers. He was ashamed of his crime and accepted his punishment without uttering a word against her.

"I was in the company of the wrong influence. I'm sorry for scarring you-"

"You didn't scar me, Ashar. I did." She interrupted his defence. Her eyes darted to his left eyebrow that had a bald line dividing it into two. A slight smirk appeared on her lips showing that till this day she was proud of it.

Ashar touched the spot where Humaira's gaze was resting. "Yes, you did." He spoke softly. "And this scar always acts as a reminder of my action and that incident became my turning point. I wasn't a spoiled boy raised by his parents anymore. I learnt from my mistake, and the way you looked at me that day- I knew I never wanted to be looked at in the same way in future. I'm not the boy who tried to corner you in an empty room, Humaira. I changed for the better." He admitted. "The fear, the disgust that I had seen in your eyes back then... it changed me. I walked away from the so-called friends who told me that it's a good way to pursue the girl I liked. I walked away from the family who made me believe that I can have anything I want or treat you the way I pleased."

"Would you have forced yourself on me if your head was bleeding?" She asked, ignoring his guilty plea.

"Wha-" Ashar was uncomfortable from her question, "No. Of course not, Huma. I'd have never done that. I took you there to tell you that I loved you and you're the beautiful person I-"

"I was your cousin! Please shut the fuck up!" She snapped.

"My family never made me think you were one of us. I never saw you as one."

Silence.

For the first time in their conversation, they held each other's gaze. The disgust in Humaira's eyes was replaced by emptiness. She knew what Ashar was telling was the truth. She was never raised as a part of their family. Her Taya abbu, Tayi ammi, and Choti ammi never treated her the same as their children. She was the outcast. The spare member of the family. Feeling like that was one thing, but getting to hear it from others was a cold blow to her.

"Humaira," Ashar started again, his voice laced with the guilt and shame he felt for his actions. "I'm not the person raised by my parents. I respect you and your courage. How you survived my family for so long without breaking or giving in. I'm sorry that I scared you when I was just trying to-" he left his words unspoken when Humaira signed him to stop.

"Why now? Why after all these years? 10 years is a long time, Ashar."

"I never had the courage to face you." He confessed.

Humaira was reading his face, his eyes.

She remembered the 19-year-old Ashar who held her hand and took her inside a small space where all the presents from his sister, Faiza's wedding were kept. She remembered his hands cupping her face and his words telling her that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She remembered trying to push him away and getting out of his embrace, but her 15-year-old small frame wasn't strong enough to do so. She remembered reaching out for something, anything; and gripping the first thing she could reach, she smacked his head with it first and later saw her weapon. It was a copper glass.

The blow left a deep cut on Ashar's forehead, and the blood was leaking through his fingers, which he was using to cover his wound. Throwing away the glass with a loud thud, she ran out from there- scared of what could follow the incident. But to her surprise, nothing happened. No one questioned her about anything. Ashar was taken to the hospital where he received 3 stitches.

He rarely crossed her path after that encounter, and she also made sure to maintain her distance. Later, he started renting out a flat and living on his own, and occasionally dropped by to meet his family during festivities or celebrations. And today was the same. He was here for her engagement.

"I know my thoughtless action has ruined my image in front of you, Humaira." He paused, "But now I want to do right by you. If you're being forced to marry Hanif, I'll fight for you."

"I don't expect anyone to fight my battle. I am very much capable of doing that on my own for a long time now." She was composed and confident with her words. From a young age, she accepted that she was on her own. No one was going to save her or fight for her. She always did what felt right and was never influenced by anyone or anything. "I'm marrying Furqan on my own free will. He is a respected person who treats everyone well, and that is all I need."

"Respected person? So, it has nothing to do with the money?" Ashar's word sounded accusing even if it wasn't his intention.

"That's a plus point, I guess." She shrugged, "Maybe a reward for surviving with your family for so long." She ended with sarcasm.

"Will you ever be able to forgive me, Huma?"

She glanced at him sideways, without turning towards him. "What were you planning to do? Hmm?" She questioned his plan, "You took me inside a room, held me close to you. Told me I was beautiful. What was next?"

Ashar gulped at the dryness and discomfort of the conversation. He knew that it was long overdue. The situation escalated beyond his expectations, and he didn't hold Humaira responsible for it.

When he answered her question, his voice was barely audible, "I'd have said that I love you and one day I'll marry you." He took in a deep breath, rubbing his face with his hand, and sat down, leaning on the wall. "I was naive and an idiot. I don't know if it was love or just... Teenage attraction towards the girl who was around me." He looked up at her, his eyelid seemed heavy, "No one taught me to respect you. I thought I'd be doing you a favour by loving you. Forgetting that the person in question wasn't a damsel in distress." He chuckled, "She was a damn warrior who was capable of showing you stars in daylight. Though it was night, you know what I mean." He ended with a half smile.

"So," Humaira sat across from him, "You never planned to do anything more than that?"

"Would you believe me if I say no?"

She smiled, "You'd be surprised."

"I wouldn't have believed any of your words if you'd given me a single reason in all these years. But you didn't. You walked out of my life and never looked back. That was doable for me. My only complaint is- why didn't you apologise sooner?"

"I just couldn't. I'm sorry."

"It's not fine. You did scare me but I know I reacted-"

"I'm grateful for the way you reacted. If it wasn't for this," he pointed to the scar on his forehead, "I don't know what kind of person I'd have been today."

"You're welcome." She smiled.

"I hope your new family treats you better than we ever did." He prayed for her well-being.

"Ameen." She rose up from her spot, "Now if you excuse me, I've a busy day ahead." Rubbing the dust off her dress she made her way out.

Ashar stared at her walking figure, feeling free from the weight of guilt and shame that had been crushing him for a decade. There wasn't a single day when he didn't curse the moment he accepted his friend's advice to confess his feelings to Humaira in a secluded place. He loathed himself for ever being influenced by them and seeing her as anything more than his cousin. But one smack from her and he was back to his factory setting, free of all the evils.

Humaira spent the rest of the day as planned by Furqan. She relaxed during her hair spa session, followed by some aromatherapy and body spa. After a manicure and a pedicure, she was finally ready for henna. The designs were already selected by her would-be fiancé. She smiled seeing his preference. Initially, he chose from a wedding bridal design, but the one kept in front of her was now slightly toned down. It wasn't a simple engagement kind but also wasn't grand like the wedding kind.

It took the artists around two hours to complete her mehendi.

"It's so pretty. Thank you so much." Humaira praised the hard work of both artists, "It's even better than what was shown."

"Someone's glowing."

"Furqan!" Humaira grinned looking at the screen that one of the workers brought in front of her.

"How's your day going?" He asked. From the background of his video, Humaira could guess he was sitting in his office. Adored in a well-tailored black suit, smiling at her.

"All your appointments kept me super busy, and now I'm super tired!" She whined making him laugh.

"You're the first person who's tired after getting pampered."

"You're spoiling me."

"You have no idea of the ways I've planned to spoil you, Huma."

Humaira's eyes widened after hearing that.

"Aye!" Furqan laughed, "Don't run your brain in any direction. I meant it in good ways. Not the one you read about."

"How do you know about my reading list and also-"

"We might have a generation gap between us, Humaira. But be sure that your fiancé is updated with each and every trend."

"Good for me." She winked.

"Huma," he shook his head, laughing at her boldness. "Chalo... Got to go. Can't wait for tomorrow and make you officially mine."

"Bye." She smiled.

"Take care, bacche." He smiled back at her and the screen turned blank.

|~★~|

A genuine redemption of Ashar or just a facade?

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scribblefly_

Not all my words are perfect; It's a beautiful, messy process. Just a reader who decided to start writing the books she couldn't find. ✍️ I'm addicted to the agonising perfection of a slow-burn romance. The slower, the better! With swaad anusar cliches. Connect with me on Instagram - @scribblefly_