The twenty-year-old Aadi Izzah knew would have shamelessly dashed to their table, taken their pictures for evidence, humiliated them, maybe even punched Hamzah in the face, and then dragged Izzah straight to her father and grandmother.
Shockingly, the twenty five-year-old Aadi, whom Izzah was yet to know, didn't do any of that. Instead, he finished his coffee in silence, paid his bill, and exited the café as if he hadn't seen them at all. It was too unbelievable to believe.
One might hope he had changed; perhaps he had grown up and abandoned his childish ways. Maybe he found Allah and learned that snitching is a sin.
But Izzah wasn't one to hope for anything good when it came to Aadi. There could have been many reasons why he didn't confront her, but she could only expect the worst from him.
She was skeptical about what his next move would be, what his grand plan might be. There was no way he was going to let something as big as catching her red-handed with a boy slide.
Izzah was convinced Aadi was going to ruin her, and not just ruin her, but royally ruin her.
★★★
The sun hung low in the ombre sky, casting a blend of orange, pink, and golden hues over the earth. People parted ways as three black G-Wagons with tinted windows cruised through the dusty streets of Khiyamabad. Women peeked out of their windows and balconies, muffling their giggles and whispers with their dupattas. Children ran joyfully behind the cars, while men stopped walking and stepped out of their vehicles, lowering their heads out of reverence.
'Aadi Masood was back home.'
Words spread to every corner of the city, reaching every household, as people discussed it over meals, at the mosque, and on the streets.
Izzah stood on the balcony of the third floor of the palace, watching as his father, grandmother, and the entire housekeeping staff welcomed Aadi. They adorned him with a garland, embraced him, kissed his forehead, and guffawed at something he said.
Everyone was happy and seemed to be in a celebratory mood.
Her father was convinced that Aadi was now ready to be crowned as the heir of the empire. Following tradition, he and his grandmother planned to hold a coronation ceremony for him the next day.
Media houses were invited to the palace, a press conference was arranged, and a public announcement was made. Formal invitations were sent to selected upper-class families in Khiyamabad for the coronation ceremony, while the event was scheduled to be televised on the media channel for the general public.
While all of this was happening, Izzah was dreading her fate which was now at the mercy of Aadi who was currently busy reveling in all the attention he was receiving.
Hamzah wanted Izzah to talk to Aadi and she had argued it was of no use.
"I've tried talking him out of it in the past but nothing good has ever come out of it." Izzah told him on the call, seated on the swing under the tomb in the terrace late that night, "Instead, his sadistic soul had taken pleasure in seeing me grovel in front of him." she grimaced, "I was naive before. I'm not now."
"That was in the past. He was naive and immature too. A lot can happen to a person in five years. He might have changed for all we know." He was trying to persuade.
"Aadi will never change." She stated, picking at the soundless anklet on her ankle.
"What are you going to do then? Just let him tell your father?" He asked her.
She can't.
Izzah had to think of something to keep Aadi from telling on her. She needed something solid or perhaps, not so solid. Something to keep him entertained and distracted until she could think of a permanent solution.
'When you are trapped somewhere with an opponent stronger than you, you have to dodge their shots until you figure a way out.'
Presuming everyone might have gone to bed, Izzah ambled down the empty, dark corridors of the palace alone at midnight, trailing a hand along the wall, gazing at the moon from the gaps of the perforated stone walls. The wind whispered through the Jalis, causing her dupatta to slip back and her hair to dance around her face. The air carried a rich mineral scent, and the atmosphere was serene.
She paused at the ancient bath house, a place where no one was allowed to bathe and rather maintained as a monument in the palace. The water of which was infused with essential oils and flowers from the garden float on the surface. She sat on the stone platform beside the pool, dipping her hand into the water, awaiting him.
Minutes passed in quietude and solitude, making her wonder whether he had fallen asleep.
She dipped her feet into the water ankle level, wrapped a hand around herself and glanced up to look at the moon when she saw him.
She didn't know from how long he had been watching her from the upper floor, hands folded on his chest, him leaning sideways against the pillar.
“Nafrat bhi kyun kare unse
Itna bhi vasta kyun rakhna..”
("Why should we even hate them,
Why keep any connection at all?")
She didn't dare break eye-contact with him as he moved to the staircase and slowly began descending.
He stopped at the last step, "Were you waiting for me?" he asked, his voice strangely deeper than the last time she heard him speak.
Izzah, still maintaining eye contact, replied, "We need to talk."
He snorted, "We don't need to talk." He then went on to correct, "You need to talk," emphasizing 'you.'
Dealing with Aadi required patience that Izzah had close to none, but she didn't mind putting up an act if it benefitted her. Hence, she resisted the urge to do or say anything that would put her in jeopardy.
"Yes, I need to talk." Izzah hadn't realized how difficult it was to agree without arguing until then.
Aadi tilted his head and gave her a once-over apprehensively before lowering himself on the steps and joining his hands in front of him, giving her the cue to proceed.
She turned to the water before her as she spoke, "Are you going to tell father?" she queried, keeping her voice soft.
The water glittered against the moonlight.
"Yes," he said after a prolonged silence.
It was expected of him. Yet, it hurt.
Izzah gulped the lump in her throat and fisted her palms on her sides.
"You haven't changed at all, Izzah," he shook his head.
She could say the same of him.
"You are the same immature, insecure, selfish, stubborn, delinquent," he listed out, counting on his fingers.
She was deeply offended but kept her lips sealed.
"In addition to all that, you are also a traitor now," he clicked his tongue.
"Don't you think hating someone for being a competition screams immature and insecure to you?" she retorted before she could stop herself.
He let out a laugh before answering in a calm, sober tone, "This is politics, Izzah. There's no such thing as good sportsmanship here. You are either on our side or you are not. Anyone who stands against us is an enemy and the ones who join hands with our enemies," He paused, making her look at him, "We show no mercy to them."
"Right." She bobbed her head, sarcastically, "You mean to say by dating Hamzah, I've joined hands with them, subsequently making me your enemy?" she summarised.
Instead of replying to the part that needs to be answered, he shot a question back at her, "How long have you known him?" He tilted his chin in a judging way, "Are you aware of his intentions?" He furrowed his brows.
Izzah got defensive, "Our relationship doesn't have anything to do with politics."
"Is that what he has made you believe?"
"Regardless of what you believe, yes, that's what he has me believe and I trust him." She was surprised how confident she was with her answer.
"Then you're a greater fool than I originally thought you were." He commented.
Izzah inhaled and exhaled, trying to reprogramme herself before she lost it.
She didn't care what he thought of her and her relationship with Hamzah. She wasn't there to get his approval. She was there with a plan and wanted to stick to it but his cryptic looks and judgemental remarks made her blood pressure rise.
With every other line, he had something negative to say about her.
"Chacha Jaan is gonna be devastated to know where you have headed." He sighed, stood up and began climbing up the staircase.
Izzah was yet to recover from the amount of negative adjectives he had used on her in the past few seconds and he was already dropping another worrisome bomb on her head.
Nothing was going according to the script she had in her mind. He was constantly throwing her off-guard which was making her forget things she wanted to tell him.
And now that he was openly declaring that he was going to tell her father, she had no choice but to narrow down her script and get to business with him.
Izzah pulled her legs out of the water, turned around, got to her feet and began walking towards the staircase, leaving wet footprints on the stone floor.
"Aadi." She called out his name, stopping by the staircase.
He halted halfway but didn't turn.
"What is it going to take me to buy your silence?" She asked, a little breathy.
He turned around and looked down at her as if he was looking at her for the first time.
"Tell me," she urged.
He chortled, "Now you are speaking like the daughter of a politician." he remarked.
She stood her ground and kept looking at him, waiting for a response to her earlier question.
And when he saw how serious she was, he leaned back against the railing and took his time answering her, "You want to buy my silence?" He repeated, arching a brow.
She nodded.
"You think it's that easy?" He scuffed, "What do you even have to offer?"
"I don't know. There must be something."
"There isn't anything." He outright told her, about to move up again.
"Aadi." She hated the way it came out.
It was clear on his face. How much he was enjoying, watching her plead.
"I'm a son of a patriotic man, Izzah." He inhaled, "Loyalty runs in my blood. I can't do what you are doing. I can't betray my uncle."
Bullshit. She thought but she didn't let her frustration show on her face.
"Besides, you have nothing." he said, "-nothing to offer me."
He was pushing her limits, testing her patience and she was this close to losing it.
Izzah gulped the growing anger with much struggle and tried one last time.
"I'll do anything you want." She could feel her dignity and self-respect shattering as she uttered those words.
Aadi intently watched her, a sadistic smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Anything?" He challenged, raising his brows, which seemed to question her, something along the lines of 'Are you sure?'
It sounded dangerous.
Like signing a blank cheque where you give the other person freedom to draw how much ever they want and whenever they want from you.
A smart person might not blindly nod at something like that, but a desperate person will, and desperate she was.
The smile on Aadi's face wavered when she agreed to it.
He looked down at his feet, seemed to be giving it a thought.
Suddenly, he glanced up and said, "We will see what use you are to me." With that, he turned around and resumed his climb up the staircase.
Back in her room, Izzah was le
ft with a bittersweet feeling. She was victorious in buying his silence, at the same time, she also feared what Aadi might make her do.
★★★
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