Adultery A teacher transformation

[Shakir]

"Arshad bhai, from where can I get tracing paper?" Hina looked around the school's art supply closet, her eyes scanning the shelves. The smell of old paint and glue filled the small room.

Arshad, the school's photographer, glanced over his shoulder from his work desk where he was meticulously placing photographs into frames. "Tracing paper?" he echoed, furrowing his brows. "Do you want some?"

Hina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Ji.
Arshad's eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer to Hina. "Tracing paper?" he repeated, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "Aur aapne aap nhi kuchh bana sakti hain?"

Hina's cheeks grew warmer under his scrutiny. "Nahi, Arshad bhai, zyada busy hoon. Aap toh ais work mein mastro ho. Aap hi bana sakta hain."

Arshad paused, his hands hovering over the photographs. He studied her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her desperate expression. "Theek hai, dekhte hain," he murmured, walking towards the shelves at the back of the closet. He rummaged through the piles of paper, his eyes searching for the elusive tracing paper.

The silence grew heavy as Hina watched him, her heart racing. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach, a feeling of dread that she had pushed him too far. But she needed this; she had to find a way to keep her job. With a sigh of relief, Arshad pulled out a dusty roll of tracing paper and handed it to her. "Yeh khud bana rahi hain Kuch is say?

Hina took it from him, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "Nahi, bachon ke liye," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She quickly turned away to hide her face, unspooling the paper.

Arshad's gaze followed her movements, his eyes darkening. "Khud kyun nahi banaati?" he pressed, his voice low and demanding.

Hina stiffened, feeling the weight of his stare. "Meray paas time nahi hai, bachon ko bhi dekhna pada hai," she said, her voice strained as she tried to keep the tremble at bay. She knew where this conversation was heading, and she couldn't afford to lose her job, not now.

Arshad stepped closer, the smell of his stale cologne filling the small space between them. "To aap ko mera time bhi chahiye?" His tone was no longer casual, the underlying threat clear.

Hina's eyes darted towards the door, her mind racing. She needed an escape, a reason to leave that wouldn't raise more suspicion. "Mera beta bohat beemar hai," she lied, her voice trembling. "Mujhe wapas jana hai."

Arshad's expression softened slightly, his grip on the tracing paper easing. "Khair, chalte hain," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. The warmth of his touch made her skin crawl, but she forced a smile. "Aap apne bete ke liye tension na lein. Hum bache ke liye kuch bhi karenge."

As they walked out of the closet and back into the bustling school corridor, Hina couldn't shake the feeling of his hand on her shoulder. She felt trapped, the weight of his expectations and her own desperation pressing down on her. The children's laughter seemed to echo hollowly as they passed by, a stark contrast to the turmoil in her heart.

Her thoughts were racing. She knew that Arshad wasn't just being friendly, that his interest in her wasn't purely professional. But what could she do? She had to keep her job. Her son Khalid, barely twenty two, needed her.

"Hina," Arshad's voice was low, almost a whisper. "Let me drop you home. You seem really worried about your son."

Her heart skipped a beat. This was her chance to escape, to put some distance between them. She nodded, trying to appear grateful. "Thank you, Arshad bhai," she said, her voice strained.

He led her out to the school's backyard where his bike was parked. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the concrete. She could see the bike's chrome glinting in the fading light, and for a moment, she was tempted to run. But she knew she couldn't.

Arshad straddled the bike and patted the seat behind him. "Chalte hain," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. Hina took a deep breath and forced herself to sit, wrapping her arms around his waist as he started the engine. The bike roared to life, and they sped off down the winding road, the wind whipping through her hair.

As they drove, Hina felt the tension in Arshad's body, his muscles tensing beneath her grip. She tried to sit as far back as possible, her legs tightly pressed against the bike's frame, but it was a futile attempt. With every bump and turn, she could feel herself sliding closer to him, the heat of his body burning through her clothes.

The sudden honk of a car broke the tension as it sped by them, dangerously close. Arshad's reflexes kicked in and he jerked the bike's handlebars, applying the brakes sharply. The bike skidded, and Hina's chest was pushed against his broad back, her 34C breasts pressing firmly against him. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The sensation was jarring, unwelcome, and she could feel his body stiffen beneath her touch.

"Careful," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the rumble of the bike's engine. She shifted back, trying to regain the distance she had so desperately sought. Arshad's eyes met hers in the side mirror, and she saw the hunger in his eye.

The bike slowed to a stop in front of her modest home. Hina quickly dismounted, the moment of near-contact leaving her feeling vulnerable. She forced a smile and thanked him, her voice trembling slightly. "Shukria, Arshad bhai."

Arshad nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Aapko koi aur madad chahiye toh hukum kijiye" he said, the engine still purring beneath them. Hina took a step back, her hand tightly clutching the tracing paper. "Nahi, shukria."

With a final nod, Arshad revved the engine and took off, leaving Hina to watch him disappear around the corner. As she turned to face her house, she felt a mix of relief and dread. She knew that she had bought herself some time, but the price was steep.

The evening air was cool, and the street was quiet, save for the distant sound of children playing. Hina took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before going inside. She knew that Khalid would be waiting for her, his eyes full of questions about her day. How could she tell him the truth? How could she burden him with her fears?

As she unlocked the door, the screen of her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her heart racing. It was a message from Arshad: "Sorry for the harsh brake earlier, hope you're okay. Take care." Hina's eyes narrowed. He had the audcity to apologize? But she knew better than to ignore his message. Playing along was the safest option for now.

With trembling fingers, she typed back a simple "Thank you, I'm fine." She couldn't bring herself to say more, the memory of their close call on the bike still fresh in her mind. She pushed the phone back into her pocket and stepped into the dimly lit house. The aroma of her neighbor's cooking filled the air, making her stomach growl. She had forgotten to eat lunch.

Khalid, her twenty-two-year-old son, sat hunched over a book at the small kitchen table, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He looked up as she entered, concern etching his features. "Ma, khana khaya?"

Hina nodded wearily, forcing a smile. "Theek ho gaya, beta. Thoda busy thi."

As the evening stretched into night, Hina couldn't shake the feeling of Arshad's touch. She sat at the dinner table with Khalid, pushing food around her plate, her thoughts consumed by the events of the day. The silence between them was palpable, each lost in their own world.

Her phone buzzed again, and she jumped, her hand shaking as she reached for it. It was another message from Arshad: "I hope you're feeling better now. That scare was unnecessary. Let me make it up to you." Her stomach clenched. What did he mean by that?

Hina didn't respond, instead, she pushed the phone aside and focused on her plate. The food looked bland, tasteless, and she couldn't muster the appetite to eat. She could feel the weight of Khalid's gaze on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.

The next morning, she woke up early, her mind racing with the events of the previous day. She had to find a way to keep her job, to keep Arshad at bay without losing her dignity. As she walked into her classroom, she was greeted by an unexpected sight: a box of expensive art supplies sat on her table, surrounded by a sea of her students' eager faces.

Her heart stopped when she saw the note. It was a simple white envelope with her name scribbled in an unfamiliar hand. She knew it was from Arshad. She took a deep breath and slid her trembling finger under the flap, pulling out a small piece of paper. On it were three words, written in bold, red ink: "Sorry for yesterday." Her stomach churned as she read the message, his words echoing in her mind.

The box of art supplies was a peace offering, she realized, and the children's eyes sparkled with excitement. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to feel relieved, even a little hopeful. Maybe he truly was a mature person, someone who understood the boundaries that she had desperately tried to maintain. Perhaps he had realized that his actions were inappropriate and was now trying to make amends.

With a trembling hand, Hina picked up her phone and texted Arshad a simple message of thanks for the art supplies. "No need for this," she added, hoping her words conveyed the unspoken message of her discomfort. She watched the screen, her heart pounding as she awaited his response. It was a gamble, but one she felt she had to take to maintain a semblance of control.

Her phone buzzed with his reply almost immediately. "It was my pleasure, Hina. Just wanted to help out." The curtness of his response was almost reassuring, and she allowed herself a small smile, hoping that perhaps he had indeed understood her boundaries.

Arshad's message had come as a surprise. His words, though seemingly innocent, held a hint of possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're really good at art," he had said, his eyes lingering on her as he handed her the tracing paper. "You should use the best supplies so you can show off your talent better and teach the kids." He had grinned then, his teeth a little too white in the dim light of the closet. "I have to leave early today," he added, as if an afterthought. "A photoshoot at my studio."

Hina stared at the message, her mind racing. Did he truly believe his gesture would be seen as nothing more than a friendly act of kindness? Or was this his way of exerting power over her, a subtle reminder that she was in his debt? She couldn't shake the feeling that he knew exactly what he was doing.

 

[Shakir]

Her students' chatter grew louder as they crowded around the box, their excitement palpable. Hina took a deep breath and composed herself, turning to face them with a forced smile. "Thank you, Arshad bhai," she announced, holding up the note so they could all see it. "He's been very generous and thoughtful." The children clapped and cheered, their eyes wide with wonder at the treasure trove before them.

Once the excitement had died down and the art class was in full swing, Hina couldn't help but steal glances at her phone, waiting for Arshad's next message. Each buzz made her heart race, but the messages remained innocuous, discussing the photographs and the upcoming school event. She began to feel a little less on edge, allowing herself to get lost in the joy of teaching her students.

But that evening, as she was helping Khalid with his college assignments, she heard a low growl from the living room. Curiosity piqued, she peeked in to find him on the phone, his jaw clenched. He looked up and caught her eye, his expression darkening even further. "Ma, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Her heart sank as she followed him into the kitchen. He handed her the phone, his eyes filled with anger. "It's Arshad bhai," he said tersely.

Hina took the phone, her hands trembling slightly. On the screen was a series of messages she had not seen before. Arshad's commented on her every art separately. "Ma, did you see these?" Khalid's voice was a mix of concern and accusation.

Her eyes scanned the messages. "Your art is truly breathtaking, Hina." "Your talent is unparalleled." "I am in awe of your creativity." Each message was a carefully crafted compliment, designed to flatter and manipulate. Hina felt a knot form in her stomach. This was not the same innocent admiration she had seen earlier in the day.

"Khalid, beta," she began, her voice shaking slightly, "these are just compliments on my art. You know how Arshad bhai is always supportive of the arts. He's just being kind." She hoped her son would buy her explanation. But the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

"Ma," he said, his tone firm but gentle, "I know he's the school photographer, but this...it's more than just being supportive. It's uncomfortable. And the way he looks at you sometimes, it's not right."

Hina's thoughts raced. Had she been naive? Misinterpreted his kindness? She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of doubt within her. "I'll talk to him, Khalid. I'll make sure to set clear boundaries." She forced another smile, hoping it was convincing enough. "Let's not jump to conclusions, okay?"

Khalid nodded reluctantly, his eyes still filled with worry. Hina could see that he wasn't entirely satisfied, but he knew pushing the issue would only lead to an argument. She felt a pang of guilt for not sharing the full extent of Arshad's attention with her children earlier. It had been fifteen years since their father had passed away, and she had raised them single-handedly, shielding them from the harshness of the world outside. Her priority had always been their comfort and protection.

The following day, Hina walked into the school with a newfound resolve. She had decided to approach Arshad and set the record straight. As she stepped into her classroom, her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bouquet of roses on her desk. A small card read, "To the most inspiring woman in the school, with admiration." The children had yet to arrive, so she had a moment to process the gesture. It was beautiful, but the feeling of unease grew stronger.

"Ma'am," Urooj called out from the doorway, her voice tentative. "Someone left these for you."

Hina turned to see her daughter standing with a bouquet of roses in her hands, a puzzled expression on her face. She took them and read the card, feeling a coldness spread through her veins. "Thank you, Urooj," she said, placing them on her desk. "They're from a... friend."

For the past fifteen years, Hina had been the pillar of strength for her children. After their father's untimely death, she had become both mother and father, shielding them from the harsh realities of life with her unyielding resolve. Her focus had always been on their well-being, pushing aside her own needs and emotions. The thought of someone crossing the line of respect and friendship into something more was unsettling, to say the least. She had never allowed anyone to be too frank with her, keeping a safe distance to ensure her children's stability.

The bouquet of roses sat on her desk, a stark reminder of the conversation she had with Khalid the previous night. Each petal seemed to whisper a warning she hadn't wanted to hear. But as she picked up a single rose and examined it, she noticed something peculiar. Inside the flower, nestled within its velvety folds, was a tiny sketch on a 4-inch paper. The delicate strokes and intricate details were unmistakable—it was Arshad's work. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the subject: it was a portrait of her, drawn with a tenderness that was both flattering and disturbing.

Her eyes searched the room for her son's, but he had already left for his class. Hina felt a sudden urge to crumple the paper, to erase the evidence of Arshad's obsession. But she knew she couldn't—not without acknowledging it first. The art was undeniably beautiful, a testament to his skill as a photographer and artist. Yet, it was the intimacy of the gesture that troubled her. How had he managed to capture her essence so accurately, down to the furrow of her brow when she was lost in thought?

For the first time in fifteen years, Hina felt seen in a way that transcended the role of a mother and teacher. It was a feeling she had forgotten, a whisper of vanity that had been buried beneath the weight of her responsibilities. She was beautiful, the drawing seemed to say, and for a moment, she allowed herself to believe it. The strokes of the pencil had painted a picture of a woman she once knew, a woman who had dreams beyond the confines of her home and classroom.

With shaking hands, she typed out a message to Arshad. "Thank you for the gesture, but I would prefer if you didn't send me personal gifts like these again. It's making my children uncomfortable." She paused, then added, "Your sketching talent is indeed exceptional. How did you manage to capture my likeness so accurately without even having me sit for it?"

Her phone buzzed with his response almost immediately. "Your beauty is something I can't help but notice, Hina. It's reflected in everything you do. And as for the sketch, I've studied your photographs for the school album, hoping to do them justice. Perhaps I've just become quite adept at capturing your essence."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she hastily pocketed her phone. The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class. Hina took a deep breath and plunged into the lesson, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling. She handed out the art assignment for the week, a simple still-life composition that she hoped would distract her students and, by extension, herself. As they eagerly got to work, she couldn't help but think about Arshad's message.

 

[Shakir]

Days turned into weeks, and the gifts and messages continued, each one more personal than the last. Hina grew increasingly tense, her smile forced as she greeted Arshad in the school corridors. Her children noticed the change in her demeanor, the way she clutched her bag tightly to her side whenever he was around. It was Urooj who discovered the USB drive one evening, hidden beneath a stack of papers in Hina's bag. She looked at her mother in shock, the small device trembling in her hand. "Ma, what is this?"

With a heavy sigh, Hina took the USB and led her to the living room, where Khalid was engrossed in a book. Plugging it into Urooj's laptop, they watched as a slideshow of images filled the screen. Picture after picture of Hina, taken from various angles and moments over the past ten years, each one capturing a different facet of her beauty and strength. The children were silent, their expressions a mix of awe and horror. Hina's heart felt like it was in a vice as she recognized the skillful eye behind the camera—Arshad's unyielding gaze had followed her, documenting her life without her consent.

"Ma," Urooj whispered, her eyes wide with shock, "why does he have so many pictures of you?"

Hina took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "It seems Arshad bhai has been admiring me from afar for quite some time," she replied, her voice quivering. "But it's clear now that his admiration has crossed a line."

Urooj nodded, her eyes still glued to the screen. "Ma," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "these pictures... they're beautiful, but they're also eerie. It's like he's been watching you without you knowing."

Khalid looked up from his book, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing," Hina said quickly, shutting the laptop. "Just some old school photos." She hoped her lie was convincing, but the way Urooj's hand was shaking as she slid the USB into her pocket suggested otherwise. The last thing she wanted was for her children to feel threatened by Arshad's unwanted attention.

Urooj got up and closed the door, her eyes never leaving the floor. She didn't want her brother Khalid to see the pictures, to realize that their mother had been the subject of such a disturbing obsession. The room felt suffocating as the three of them sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken fears. Hina could see the wheels turning in Urooj's mind, the same way they were in hers.

Finally, Urooj took a step forward and wrapped her arms around her mother. "Don't worry, Ma," she said, her voice strong and clear. "I'm with you. If you have feelings for him, it's okay. You deserve to live your life."

Hina stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed into the embrace. She hadn't realized how much she had been holding in until that moment. The weight of her secret had been crushing her, and now it was out in the open. "Beta," she replied, her voice thick with emotion, "it's not like that. He's a good man, but he's been watching me for too long. It's not right."

Urooj pulled back, looking into her mother's eyes. "I know, Ma," she said, her tone understanding. "But I've seen the way he looks at you. And the sketch he made of you in your purse? It's clear he has feelings."

Hina's cheeks flushed as she remembered the sketch, a delicate pencil rendering of her face that had captured her likeness so well it was uncanny. "He is a good person," she agreed, "but his behavior is not acceptable."

Urooj nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "But Ma," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, "you can't deny that he's handsome too."

Hina couldn't help but chuckle despite the gravity of the situation. "Beta, that is not the point," she admonished gently. "The point is, I'm a married woman, and his behavior is inappropriate."

Urooj's smile faded as she nodded solemnly. "I understand, Ma," she said. "But maybe he just needs a friend. Someone to show him that his feelings are noticed, but that they can't be reciprocated in the way he wants."

Hina squeezed her daughter's hand, feeling a surge of love and pride. It had been fifteen years since her husband had passed away, leaving a void that no one could fill. The children had grown up, and she had devoted herself to her career, finding solace in the classroom. Yet, the thought of someone seeing her as more than just a teacher, a widow, or a mother had stirred emotions she had long buried. She sighed, looking out the window at the darkening sky. "It's complicated, Urooj."

Urooj nodded, understanding that her mother's heart was a tangled web of duty and desire. She knew that Hina's strength lay in her ability to compartmentalize her emotions, to put her children first. But she also knew that everyone, including her mother, needed to live their life to the fullest. "Ma," she said, her voice soft yet firm, "I just want you to be happy. If that means letting someone in, then maybe you should consider it. But as your friend, I'm telling you that you can't ignore this forever."

Hina looked at her daughter, her eyes brimming with a mix of love and fear. "What do you suggest, Urooj?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Should I talk to him?"

Urooj nodded. "As a friend," she emphasized. "Tell him that you know about the pictures and that while you appreciate his art, you're uncomfortable with his actions. Maybe he just needs to understand your boundaries."

 

[Shakir]

Hina considered her daughter's words. It was true that she couldn't ignore the situation anymore. She had to confront Arshad and set things straight before it escalated further. "Okay," she murmured, "I'll talk to him tomorrow."

With a sudden burst of energy, Urooj leaned over and kissed her mother's cheek. "Good for you, Ma," she said, her eyes sparkling. Before Hina could react, she playfully slapped her on the backside. "Now go enjoy the evening," she said with a wink. "You deserve it."

Her mother blushed at the unexpected gesture and the cheekiness in Urooj's tone. Hina watched as her daughter turned on her heel and sashayed out of the room, leaving a trail of laughter in her wake. Urooj had always been the more outgoing of her two children, and she admired her spirit. But she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. The situation with Arshad was serious, and she knew it required careful handling.

The evening dragged on, with Hina's thoughts continuously drifting back to the conversation she had with Urooj. She tried to distract herself with the TV, but the news only served to remind her of the complexities of the world beyond her own. Her mind was a whirlwind of scenarios, each more unsettling than the last. What would happen if Arshad didn't take her warning seriously? Would he retaliate? Could she lose her job?

The next morning, Hina woke up with a newfound resolve. She had decided that she would talk to Arshad before the school day began. As she dressed in her usual modest attire, she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were tired, but she found a spark of determination in her reflection. With a deep breath, she left for school.

Upon arriving, she spotted Arshad setting up his camera equipment in the corridor, his back to her. Hina took a moment to compose herself, then approached him with a cautious smile. "Good morning," she said softly, hoping to ease into the conversation without causing alarm.

Arshad turned around, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at her greeting. He returned her smile tentatively, unsure of what to make of her sudden approachability. "Good morning, Miss Hina," he replied, his voice laced with curiosity.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," she began, her voice steady. "It's important."

Arshad nodded, his curiosity piqued. He followed her into an empty classroom, his heart beating a little faster as he wondered what she could possibly want to discuss. Hina closed the door behind them and took a seat at the teacher's desk, her hands clutching the edge tightly. He sat down opposite her, leaning forward slightly.

"Arshad," she began, her smile fading into a solemn expression. "I've noticed that you've been taking a particular interest in me lately." She paused, watching his reaction. He fidgeted in his seat, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "While I appreciate your friendship, I feel that we need to establish some boundaries. It's important for both our professional and personal lives."

Arshad's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of teasing or misunderstanding. Finding none, he swallowed hard. "Miss Hina, I never meant to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice earnest. "I just..." He trailed off, unsure of how to articulate his feelings without making the situation worse.

Hina's smile grew slightly warmer. "I know you didn't mean any harm," she said gently. "But your actions have crossed a line, and it's important that we address it now." She paused, giving him a chance to respond, but he remained silent, his eyes cast downward.

"Look," she continued, her tone firm but empathetic. "You're a good photographer, and I enjoy having you around the school. But your behavior has become inappropriate, and it needs to stop." She paused again, watching as he nodded slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I don't want this to affect our working relationship or the environment for the students."

Arshad looked up, his gaze meeting hers with a newfound seriousness. "I'm sorry, Miss Hina. I didn't realize. I'll make sure to be more professional from now on." He took a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists on his lap.

Hina felt a pang of pity for the young man. She knew that he had been through a rough patch in his life, and that his attraction to her was likely a symptom of his loneliness. "It's okay," she said, her voice softening. "We all make mistakes. I just need you to understand that we can't let our personal feelings interfere with our work here."

Arshad nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "But what about outside of school?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Can I... express my feelings then?"

Hina felt a weight in her chest. She knew this was a question she had to answer carefully. "Arshad," she began, choosing her words with care, "it's best that we keep our personal and professional lives separate." She paused, watching the hope in his eyes flicker and fade. "I'm flattered, really, but I'm a teacher and you're an employee here. It's not appropriate for us to pursue anything beyond a working relationship."

He nodded, his eyes downcast. "I understand," he murmured. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions. Hina could see the disappointment etched on his face, but she knew she had made the right decision. "Thank you for talking to me, Miss Hina," he finally said, his voice thick with unshed emotion. "I'll make sure to respect your wishes."

With a final nod, Arshad gathered his equipment and left the classroom, his shoulders slumped. Hina sighed, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. She knew she had done what was necessary, but the conversation had taken a toll on her. She sat at her desk for a moment longer, collecting her thoughts before the day's lessons began.

As the students filed in, the sound of their laughter and chatter filled the room, pushing the uncomfortable silence of her earlier conversation into the background. Hina stood up, forcing a smile onto her face. She couldn't let this affect her teaching, not today. She had a job to do, and she would do it to the best of her ability.

The school day passed in a blur of lesson plans and disciplinary actions, with Hina's mind often wandering back to Arshad. What was he thinking now? Had she hurt him? Would he hold a grudge? The thought of losing his friendship and professional camaraderie was troubling.

As the final bell rang, Hina packed up her things and made her way to the staff room, where she found a small, folded note on her desk. It was from Arshad. She opened it with trembling hands, her heart racing. "If you respect my feelings, Miss Hina," it read, "I will be waiting for you at Coffico coffee shop at 7 pm today."

Her eyes widened in shock, and she felt a knot form in her stomach. Was this a declaration of his intentions, or a peace offering? She had been clear with him earlier that day, but the note suggested a different narrative. She reread it, her thoughts racing. Was she being too harsh? Perhaps she had misunderstood his intentions.

Urooj sailed into the room, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She must have noticed the change in Hina's demeanor because she said, "What's up, Ma? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Hina sighed, setting down her bag. "I talked to Arshad today," she replied, her voice measured.

Urooj's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh really?" she said, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing smile. "How did that go?"

Hina couldn't help but laugh at her daughter's dramatic flair. She told him about Arshad invitation in Coppico, I had to set him straight, Urooj. It's just not appropriate.

Urooj grinned, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it sounds like you've got a secret admirer, Ma," she said, wagging her finger playfully. "A date at Coffico, huh?"

Hina rolled her eyes, unable to resist the urge to smile. "It's not a date," she protested, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. "It's just... I don't know what it is. But I can't ignore it."

Urooj's grin grew wider. "Well, you can't go looking like you do after a long day at school, can you?" she said, waving her hand in front of Hina's tired reflection in the mirror. "Come on, let's get you ready."

Reluctantly, Hina allowed herself to be herded into the bathroom. As the warm water enveloped her, she couldn't help but feel a small thrill of excitement. It had been ages since she had been out anywhere other than for work or family functions. She closed her eyes and let the steam fill the room, feeling the tension of the day seep away.

Urooj waited outside, her mind racing with possibilities. This could be the perfect opportunity for her mother to move on, to find happiness again. She had noticed the sadness in Hina's eyes after her father's passing, and she knew that a little romance could be just what she needed. With a wicked smile, she set out her makeup bag on the counter, ready to work her magic.

Hina emerged from the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping wet. "What are you up to, Urooj?" she asked suspiciously, eyeing the array of cosmetics before her.

Urooj grinned. "Just a little makeover, Ma. Nothing to worry about," she said, already dabbing a bit of foundation onto a makeup brush.

"But, Urooj, I said it's not a date," Hina protested weakly, sitting down on the chair by the vanity.

"I know, I know," Urooj said, her voice filled with mischief. "But a little makeover never hurt anybody." She began to work her magic, applying a touch of blush to Hina's cheeks and a swipe of mascara to her lashes. "You never know, it might just boost your confidence."

Hina couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious as her daughter insisted she try on the shalwar qameez. The neckline was indeed deep, revealing more of her skin than she was used to. She glanced down at the garment, her heart racing. "Urooj, I don't know if this is a good idea," she murmured, her voice laced with doubt.

But Urooj was insistent. "Trust me, Ma," she said with a knowing smile. "You'll look amazing."

With a deep breath, Hina slipped into the outfit, feeling the soft fabric whisper against her skin. The color was vibrant, a deep shade of blue that brought out the warmth in her eyes. Urooj stepped back to assess her handiwork, her gaze scrutinizing. "Perfect," she declared, her voice filled with satisfaction.

"But what about Khalid?" Hina asked, her voice still filled with hesitation. "What if he asks where I'm going?"

Urooj winked at her mother. "Don't worry about him," she said confidently. "I've got it covered."

"But what will you tell him?" Hina asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

Urooj waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Ma. I've got a plan." She grinned impishly. "We are going to watch movie Moana 2."

Hina couldn't help but chuckle. "Alright, alright. But don't let him stay up too late."

Urooj nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I promise," she said, her voice singsong. "Now go, you don't want to keep your... friend waiting."

With a mischievous grin, she pinched Hina's cheek, then, before Hina could react, she reached out and gave her mother's breast a playful squeeze. "Ow!" Hina yelped, her eyes going wide. "What was that for?"

Urooj giggled, darting out of reach before her mother could retaliate. "Just to make sure you don't forget your curves," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "Now, let's go, Khalid's waiting."

Hina playfully tossed the comb at her retreating daughter, watching as it sailed through the air before landing harmlessly on the couch. "You little rascal," she called after her, her voice filled with affectionate exasperation.

Urooj stuck her tongue out in response, her laughter echoing through the hallway as she dashed out to get her brother ready for the movie. The house was filled with the sounds of their laughter and the clatter of shoes as they gathered their things. Within minutes, the door slammed shut, leaving Hina standing in the quiet living room, feeling both bemused and a bit nervous.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the house, looking nothing like the tired teacher from earlier in the day. The makeover had worked its magic, and she felt a glimmer of excitement for the evening ahead. The thought of seeing Arshad outside of school was both thrilling and terrifying. What would he think of her now?

 

[Shakir]

The Coffico coffee shop was bustling with the evening crowd when Hina arrived. She spotted Arshad immediately, sitting in a corner booth, his eyes scanning the room. He looked up as the door chimed, and their eyes met. He stood, a wide smile breaking across his face as he took in her transformation. "Miss Hina," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You look... amazing."

Hina felt a blush creep up her neck as she approached the table. She had to admit, the makeover had worked wonders. "Thank you, Arshad," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "But I'm not here for a date, remember?"

He chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know," he said, holding out a chair for her. "But I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you look."

Hina sat down, her cheeks still flushed from the compliment. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay composed. "It's just Urooj," she said with a laugh, playing with the hem of her dupatta. "She insisted on doing my makeup."

Arshad sat across from her, his gaze lingering on her face. "Well, she did a wonderful job, say her thanks" he said, his voice sincere. "But you're always beautiful, Miss Hina."

The conversation flowed easily as they sipped on their coffees. They talked about their days at the school, the students' antics that never failed to amuse them, and the upcoming annual function that was keeping everyone on their toes. Hina found herself laughing more than she had in weeks. Arshad's charm was undeniable, and she couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her chest.

As the evening grew darker, Arshad reached into his bag and pulled out a small, gift-wrapped box. He placed it on the table in front of Hina with a knowing smile. "This is for you," he said.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "What's this?"

Arshad leaned back, his smile widening. "Just a little something I've been working on," he replied. "A sketch I made of you."

Hina's heart skipped a beat as she carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside was a delicately drawn image of herself, her smile captured so perfectly that it looked as if it could light up the room. But it was the way he had drawn her deep cleavage that made her blush even more. It was subtle, yet unmistakable. She looked up at him, unsure of what to say.

Arshad's eyes searched hers for a reaction. "Do you like it?" he asked, his own heart racing.

Hina nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... beautiful," she managed to say. Their fingers had brushed against each other as she took the frame, and the electricity of the moment was palpable. The softness of his touch sent shivers down her spine, and she felt a sudden urge to pull away. But she couldn't. The intimacy of the gesture was undeniable, and she was torn between the warmth it brought and the guilt that threatened to consume her.

Her eyes remained fixed on the sketch as she traced the lines of her smile with her index finger. It was a side of herself she rarely saw, one that was usually reserved for her students' yearbooks. The deep cleavage, however, was a part she kept hidden under her modest attire. The way Arshad had captured it, with such sensitivity and admiration, made her feel both exposed and desired.

Just when the silence between them was becoming a little too intense, Arshad spoke up again. "I have one more thing for you," he said, his tone casual yet filled with anticipation. He reached into his pocket and placed a small blue box on the table. "This is from me."

Hina's eyes widened even more as she recognized the Calvin Klein logo. It was Eternity, an expensive fragrance she had admired in the mall once. She had mentioned it to Urooj in passing, but never thought she would receive it as a gift. "Arshad, you shouldn't have," she protested, her voice a mix of surprise and pleasure.

He shrugged, his smile never wavering. "It's nothing, Miss Hina. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate your friendship."

Hina picked up the box, her thumb running over the smooth, embossed lettering. "But it's so expensive," she murmured, her heart racing. "It's almost half my salary, isn't it?"

Arshad leaned in, his eyes gleaming. "Consider it a token of my appreciation," he insisted. "You deserve the best, and that's what you are to me."

With trembling hands, Hina opened the box and took out the elegant bottle of Eternity. She removed the cap and dabbed a small amount on her wrist, the scent wafting up to greet her. It was a blend of fresh flowers and warm vanilla, a scent that spoke of elegance and sophistication. She brought her hand to her nose, inhaling deeply, and was immediately transported to a place where all her troubles were forgotten.

"It smells heavenly," she said, unable to hide the delight in her voice. Arshad nodded, watching her intently. He leaned closer and took her hand in his, bringing it to his nose. "It suits you perfectly," he murmured, his breath tickling her skin. The warmth of his touch was like a brand, searing through her defenses.

As the night grew cooler, the aroma of her sweat mixed with the Eternity grew more potent, creating a heady cocktail of scents that seemed to cling to the air around them. It was as if the very essence of Hina was blending with the perfume, making it uniquely hers. Arshad couldn't help but inhale deeply, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's like nothing I've ever smelled before," he said, his voice low and filled with meaning. "It's... intoxicating."

Hina felt a strange mix of emotions. The way Arshad was looking at her, the way he held her hand, it was all so intimate, so unlike the friendship they had shared for years. Yet, she couldn't deny the thrill it brought her, the way her pulse quickened with every word he spoke. She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "Arshad," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "You said it's just a friendship."

He nodded, his grip on her hand tightening almost imperceptibly. "It is, Miss Hina. But I also believe that friendships can grow into something more, don't you think?" His eyes searched hers for an answer, hope and desire warring in their depths.

Hina swallowed hard, torn between the comfort of their familiar friendship and the allure of what could be. "I... I don't know," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't want to lead him on, but she didn't want to lose his friendship either.

Arshad nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. He gently placed the gift back into the bag and took a sip of his coffee, giving her the space she needed. "Let's not think about it now," he said, his voice soothing. "Let's just enjoy the moment."

They talked for another hour, the tension between them slowly dissipating as they shared stories and laughs. When it was time to leave, Arshad took out his phone. "One selfie," he requested, his voice playful. "For old times' sake?"

Hina felt a knot form in her stomach. The idea of a selfie with Arshad was too much. It was a line she wasn't ready to cross, not yet. She gently pulled her hand away. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said, her voice firm yet soft.

Arshad's smile didn't waver, but his eyes held a hint of disappointment. "Okay, no problem," he said, pocketing his phone. "But we should definitely do it next time."

As they stepped out of the coffee shop and into the cool night air, Hina felt a sense of relief wash over her. She didn't know what she was feeling, but she knew she needed time to process it all. The scent of Eternity still lingered on her skin, a constant reminder of the evening's events.

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Arshad," she said as they walked towards her house. "It was really nice to just... talk."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "It was my pleasure, Miss Hina." His voice was gentle, almost tender.

As they approached the bike, Arshad paused and turned to her. "Can I offer you a ride home?" he asked, his eyes hopeful. "It's the least I can do after all the fun we had tonight."

Hina hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to the bike. She had never been on a motorbike before, but the thought of the wind in her hair and the thrill of the ride was tempting. "Okay," she finally said, a hint of excitement in her voice. "But only if you promise to drive safely."

Arshad chuckled, his eyes lighting up. "I always drive safely," he assured her, patting the bike's seat. "But I can't vouch for the other crazies on the road."

Hina took a deep breath and nodded, placing her purse firmly on his back. "Then just drive," she said with a hint of excitement, feeling the adrenaline start to build.

Arshad revved up the engine and the bike roared to life. Hina felt a thrill of fear and exhilaration as she climbed onto the pillion seat. And hold the backseat stand.

"Hold onto me, Madam," Arshad called over the engine's purr. "I don't electrocute, I promise."

Hina couldn't help but laugh, the sound of her voice mixing with the roar of the bike. She hit him lightly on the back. "You're such a joker, Arshad," she shouted over the wind. The bike took off, and she tightened her grip around his waist, her heart racing.

As they sped through the quiet streets, she felt the thrill of the cool air against her skin and the vibrations of the bike beneath her. The Eternity perfume was still lingering on her, and she found herself leaning in closer to Arshad, taking in his own unique scent—a mix of leather and the faint hint of aftershave. It was a comforting scent, one that she had grown to associate with his presence at school.

When they arrived at her house, Hina's heart was racing, not just from the excitement of the ride, but also from the tumult of emotions that had been building inside her all evening. Arshad pulled up to the gate, the bike's engine idling gently. She reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the bike with a grace she didn't know she possessed.

"Thank you for the ride," she called over the engine's purr. "I had a great time."

Arshad nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "My pleasure," he replied, his smile warm. "Goodnight, Miss Hina."

Hina watched as he revved the engine and drove off into the night. She took a deep breath, the scent of Eternity and leather mingling with the cool breeze. The evening had been a whirlwind of emotions, leaving her both thrilled and confused.

Her hand trembled slightly as she unlocked the front door, her thoughts racing. What had she allowed to happen between them? Was it just a friendly dinner, or had it become something more? She stepped into the quiet house, her heels echoing against the tiles, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her children were not home yet.

Urooj and Khalid did not returned from movie. The house felt eerily calm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that swirled inside her. Hina made her way to the kitchen, the scent of Eternity still clinging to her, and poured herself a glass of water, hoping to wash away the confusion.

As she leaned against the kitchen counter, her thoughts drifted back to the evening. Arshad's eyes had held a warmth she had never noticed before, and the way he had drawn her, so intimately, had made her feel... seen. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, not since her husband had passed away.

The house remained silent, the hum of the fridge and the distant sound of a car's engine the only companions to her racing thoughts. Hina took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She knew she had to tell Urooj about the gift, about the way Arshad had made her feel. But how could she explain it without betraying their friendship?

 

[Shakir]

As she was lost in thought, she heard the front door open and close softly. Urooj and Khalid had returned from the movies. The sound of their footsteps grew louder as they approached the kitchen. "Mom, you're home!" exclaimed Urooj, her eyes bright with excitement. "How was your day out with Arshad?"

Hina turned to face her daughter, the guilt of the evening's events weighing heavily on her. She tried to force a smile, but it came out as more of a nervous twitch. "It was... nice," she said, her voice wavering. "We just talked."

Urooj looked at her mother, her eyes sharp with curiosity. She could sense something was off, something she hadn't noticed before. She leaned closer, inhaling deeply. "What's that smell?" she asked, her eyes widening. "It's... different."

Hina's heart skipped a beat. The scent of Eternity. She had hoped it was faint enough to go unnoticed. "Oh, it's just a new perfume," she said, her voice a little too high. "A friend gave it to me."

Urooj's eyes lit up. "Which friend?" she asked, her tone teasing. "Someone special?"

Hina's cheeks flushed as she quickly busied herself with the dishes. "Just an old colleague," she replied, hoping to diffuse the situation. But Urooj wasn't one to let things go so easily.

"Is it the same colleague who have collection of your photos?" she probed, her hand playfully landing on her mother's shoulder. The warmth of Urooj's touch sent a jolt through Hina's body, and she felt a sudden urge to confess.

With a sigh, Hina turned around to face her daughter, her eyes searching for understanding. "Yes, it's Arshad," she admitted, her voice low and cautious.

Urooj's gaze fell to the counter where the portrait lay, the soft lines and shadows of Hina's neckline captured in a way that was both intimate and artistic. "Wow, Mom," she breathed, her eyes widening in surprise. "It's beautiful."

Hina's hand flew to her neck, her heart racing. She hadn't realized Arshad had drawn such a revealing sketch. "It's just a... a portrait," she stuttered, trying to find the right words. "He's an excellent photographer, as you know."

Urooj picked up the portrait, examining it more closely. "It's more than just a portrait, Mom," she said, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and curiosity. "It's like he's captured a moment of you that no one else has ever seen."

Khalid, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally spoke up. "I think it's amazing, Mom," he said, walking over to give her a hug. "You're still so beautiful, even after all these years."

Hina felt a warmth spread through her at her son's words, but she was acutely aware of the shyness that had overtaken her. She had never been one to be the center of attention, especially not in such a personal way. She had always been the strong, reliable one in the family, the one who held everything together after her divorce from Aik. This newfound vulnerability was both thrilling and terrifying.

Urooj, noticing her mother's discomfort, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Hina. "It's okay, Mom," she whispered. "You deserve to be happy."

Her warm embrace was a comfort Hina hadn't realized she needed. As Urooj kissed her cheeks, she felt the weight of the evening's secret lifted slightly. The scent of the popcorn they'd had at the movies clung to her daughter's hair, bringing a small smile to her lips.

"Thank you, beta," Hina murmured, returning the embrace with equal warmth. Khalid's footsteps grew quieter as he approached his room, and she knew he was listening intently to their conversation. She felt a sudden surge of maternal protectiveness, not wanting to burden him with the complexities of her emotional turmoil.

After her children had retired to their own spaces, Hina sat in the quiet living room, the portrait of her still lying on the counter. She stared at it for what felt like an eternity, her mind racing with thoughts of Arshad. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, the hands moving steadily towards midnight. A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows, startling her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting the silence. She pulled it out, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Arshad's name on the screen. He had sent her a text message, and she felt a thrill as she read the words, "Thank you for the best evening of my life, Hina." She replayed the moments of the night in her mind, from the way his eyes had lit up when he saw her to the gentle brush of his hand against hers as they said goodbye.

With trembling fingers, she typed back, "Mine too, Arshad." The words seemed to hang in the air, echoing her own thoughts from earlier. She had felt alive in a way she hadn't in years, and it was all because of him. The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed again. "I noticed you were lost in thought," Arshad's message read. "I hope it was all good." Hina's heart fluttered, and she took a deep breath before responding.

"Just a bit overwhelmed," she confessed. "But in a good way."

Her phone buzzed again, and she read Arshad's next message with a smile. "I rode you back home carefully today and didn't apply the harsh brake," it said. Hina felt a warmth spread through her chest. He had noticed her distraction and had tried to ease her anxiety with his gentle humor.

The silence of the night grew heavier, and she found herself lost in the depth of his words. "I had killed you if you tried to do this," she murmured to herself, remembering the fierce love she had once felt for Aik. But that was a love of the past, a love that had grown cold with time. Now, she was faced with a different kind of love, one that was as surprising as it was intense.

With a sigh, Hina stood up and made her way to the bedroom. She knew that sleep would be elusive, her thoughts swirling with images of Arshad and the possibility of a future with him. As she lay in bed, she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with questions. Could she really take this step? After all, she was a mother of two, a woman of a certain age. But then she thought of the warmth in Arshad's eyes, the gentle way he had held her hand, and she knew that she couldn't ignore what she felt.

Urooj and Khalid had gone to bed, leaving the house in a peaceful silence. Hina could hear the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional sound of a car passing by on the street outside. She picked up her phone, the screen casting a soft glow on her pillow. She typed out a message to Arshad, her heart beating faster with every tap. "Good night," she wrote, adding a smiley face for good measure. She didn't want to appear too eager, but she also didn't want him to think she wasn't interested.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately. "Good night, Hina. Sweet dreams," he replied, along with a heart emoji. She felt a warmth spread through her chest as she read his words. It was a simple message, but it held a world of promise and affection. Hina placed the phone on the nightstand and took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. She had to keep her emotions in check. Her children didn't need to see her in this state.

The next morning, the aroma of sizzling eggs and toast filled the kitchen. Hina was lost in her thoughts, flipping the eggs with more vigor than usual. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, and she felt like she was navigating uncharted waters. The scent of Arshad's cologne still lingered faintly on her clothes, reminding her of the night before.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms snake around her waist. "What are you making, hot lady?" Urooj's playful voice sang out from behind her. Hina's heart leaped in surprise, and she almost dropped the spatula. She turned to find her daughter's cheeky grin and rolled her eyes.

"Eggs and toast," she replied with a forced smile. "Your usual breakfast before college."

"But you're not smiling with your eyes, Mom," Urooj said, her expression growing concerned. "Is everything okay?"

Hina took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Yes, beta, everything's fine," she assured her, turning back to the stove. "Just a little tired from the outing yesterday."

Urooj studied her mother's profile, her gaze lingering on the small smile playing at the corners of Hina's mouth. There was something in the way she moved, something different about the way she carried herself today. It was as if a weight had been lifted, or perhaps something new had been added. "Mom," she said gently, "you can tell me if something's up."

Hina sighed, the eggs momentarily forgotten. She knew she couldn't keep her feelings hidden from her perceptive daughter forever. "It's just... I've never felt this way before," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's scary, but also... exhilarating."

Urooj stepped closer, her eyes filled with understanding. "Love is like that, Mom," she said, placing a comforting hand on Hina's shoulder. "But you deserve to be happy."

Her words resonated within Hina, and she felt a sudden rush of affection for her daughter. "Thank you, Urooj," she murmured, turning to give her a small hug. "But it's complicated."

Urooj nodded, understanding more than Hina could have hoped. "I know," she said softly. "But if he makes you happy, then maybe it's worth it."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, "Just don't go making any baby siblings for me and Khalid. We're quite happy as we are."

The room was filled with the sound of Hina's laughter, a lightness returning to the air that had been absent for too long. "I promise," she said, her eyes sparkling. "No baby siblings for you two."

Urooj grinned, then grew serious. "But really, Mom, if you want to be physical with him, it's your choice." Hina's cheeks flushed, the very thought of her daughter discussing such intimate matters leaving her both flustered and oddly liberated.

"I-I don't know," Hina stammered, flipping the toast with a shaky hand. "It's been so long since I've felt that way."

Urooj's smile softened. "It's okay, Mom. You're still young and beautiful. And it's not like you're jumping into a relationship without knowing what you're getting into."

Hina nodded, her thoughts drifting to the years of friendship she had shared with Arshad. They had always had a connection, but it had never crossed the line into romance. "You're right," she said, turning off the stove. "It's just... I've been a single mother for so long. I don't know how to balance this new part of my life with everything else."

Urooj took the plate of eggs and toast from her mother and placed it on the table. "You've always been able to juggle everything, Mom," she said with confidence. "You're the strongest person I know. If you want to explore this, you should."

Hina looked at her daughter, feeling a mix of pride and anxiety. "I don't know, beta," she said, sitting down opposite her. "I have my job, and you and Khalid are in college now. It's a big step."

Urooj took a bite of her toast, her eyes never leaving her mother's face. "But you can handle it," she insisted. "You're not just a mother; you're also a woman who deserves to live her own life."

Hina nodded thoughtfully. She had always put her children first, especially after her divorce. The idea of carving out a space for her own happiness was both appealing and daunting. "What if it doesn't work out?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if it affects you and Khalid?"

Urooj reached out and took her mother's hand. "Mom," she said firmly, "Khalid and I are adults now. We want you to be happy too." Her eyes searched Hina's face, seeking confirmation. "You've always been there for us. Now it's time for you to think about what makes you happy."

Hina squeezed her daughter's hand, feeling the truth of her words resonate deep within her. She had devoted her life to her children, and now, as they grew more independent, she found herself at a crossroads. Was it time to explore the feelings that had been blooming within her?

 

[Shakir]

With a sigh, she stood up and started clearing the breakfast dishes. "I'll think about it," she said, her voice a mix of hope and hesitation. "But for now, let's get ready for the day."

As Hina walked into the school that morning, the halls were filled with the usual chatter of students and the rustle of papers. She greeted her colleagues with a smile, her heart racing as she thought of seeing Arshad again. But as the day progressed, she realized that he wasn't around. His classroom was empty, his camera bag missing from its usual spot.

Disappointment washed over her, but she pushed it aside to focus on her lessons. The children's faces, eager and curious, brought her back to reality. Yet, the void was palpable, leaving a hollowness in her chest where excitement had once been. She couldn't help but wonder where he was and what he was doing.

After a few hours, during the break, Hina spotted a note on her desk. It was a hastily scribbled message from Arshad, explaining that he had an unexpected photoshoot at a company that morning. His handwriting was messy, but she found it charming, and it was clear that he had wanted to let her know. He promised to return for the afternoon classes.

As she was about to fold the note away, her phone buzzed with a call from Urooj. "Ammi, tomorrow is our college picnic," her daughter exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. "Could you lend me your camera? I want to capture some special moments!"

Hina paused, feeling a pang of regret. "I'm sorry, Urooj," she replied, her eyes lingering on Arshad's note. "My camera seems to have broken down." She had never mentioned her camera to Arshad, so he wouldn't know it was faulty. It was an old model, a relic of her past that she had kept for sentimental reasons. "I'll ask around if anyone else has one you can borrow."

The words had barely left her mouth when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Arshad standing there, his handsome features etched with concern. "Is there a problem with your camera?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded.

"It's an old model," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's been acting up lately." She didn't want to admit the lie she had just told her daughter, especially not to him. But as she spoke, she couldn't help the flush that crept up her neck, betraying her.

Arshad studied her for a moment before a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I might be able to help with that," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I have some experience with cameras. Perhaps I could take a look?"

Hina felt a mix of relief and anxiety at his offer. She hadn't meant to lie to Urooj, but she hadn't wanted to admit that she had been thinking of Arshad all morning. "That's very kind of you," she replied, her voice tight. "But I'm sure it's beyond repair."

Arshad's smile widened, and he leaned closer. "Well, I'd be happy to check it out," he said softly. "After all, a camera is like a bridge to capture moments. It's a tool for memories, and everyone deserves to keep making them." His words resonated with Hina, who hadn't taken a photograph in years. The thought of sharing something she loved with him was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Come to the studio tonight," he continued. "I'll have one of my spare cameras for you to use. It's nothing fancy, but it should work well for a college picnic. And if your camera is indeed broken, I might be able to fix it for you." He winked, and Hina felt her cheeks burn. She agreed, the anticipation of the evening already filling her with a nervous energy.

As the day drew to a close, the school grew quiet. Hina's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the impending rendezvous. She had never been to Arshad's studio, and the idea of stepping into his personal space was both thrilling and intimidating. She knew that she had to keep her feelings in check; she was a teacher, a mother, and a divorcee, after all. But the allure of the unknown was too strong.

When she arrived at the studio that evening, Urooj by her side, she found it to be a small but well-lit space, filled with an array of cameras and lenses that spoke of Arshad's passion for his craft. The walls were adorned with his breathtaking photographs, each telling a story of their own. He greeted them with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw Urooj.

"Hello, princess," he said, extending his hand to her. "Thank you for bringing your mom here." Urooj's cheeks flushed with pleasure as she took his hand. The affectionate nickname took Hina by surprise, but she couldn't help but appreciate the ease with which he interacted with her daughter.

They stepped into the studio, and Urooj's eyes widened with excitement as she took in the surroundings. "It's like a treasure trove!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the empty room. Arshad chuckled, his eyes sparkling with pride. "You can say that again," he said, turning to Hina. "This is where I capture moments that people hold onto for a lifetime."

Hina couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as she watched Urooj admiring the various cameras and accessories. She had always dreamed of being a model, but life had taken a different turn. "Uroo," she began hesitantly, "I know how much you've always wanted to have a professional photoshoot, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she swallowed the words that had once been filled with hope and aspiration.

Urooj looked at her mother with a knowing smile. "It's okay, Ammi," she said gently, placing a hand on Hina's arm. "I understand that we can't always have everything we want." Hina felt a lump form in her throat at the maturity in her daughter's voice. Despite the years that had passed, it seemed like just yesterday that Urooj had been a little girl, twirling around in her mother's arms, asking to be photographed.

"But," Arshad interjected, his voice filled with enthusiasm, "if your mother gives permission, I'd be happy to do a little photoshoot right here, just for fun." He glanced at Hina, hope and excitement dancing in his eyes. "It doesn't have to be anything fancy," he added quickly. "Just a few shots to commemorate the evening."

Hina's heart skipped a beat. She had never allowed herself to indulge in such things, not since her divorce. But seeing the joy in Urooj's eyes and the earnestness in Arshad's, she found herself nodding. "Alright," she said, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked. "But only if you promise it's just for fun."

Arshad grinned, his excitement palpable as he picked up one of the cameras. He began to instruct Urooj on various poses, his movements swift and assured. The way he positioned her, the angles he chose, it was clear he had a vision. Urooj beamed under his attention, her youth and beauty shining through the camera lens. Hina watched from the sidelines, her mind racing with thoughts.

"Mom, come join me," Urooj called out, her voice filled with excitement. Hina looked up, surprised. She hadn't been expecting to be a part of this impromptu photoshoot. With a little nudge from Arshad, she took a tentative step forward. "Don't worry," he assured her, "You'll be great."

Her heart racing, Hina stood next to her daughter, feeling the warmth of Urooj's hand in hers. Arshad instructed them both on how to stand and smile. Despite her nerves, she found herself relaxing under his guidance. His confidence was infectious, and she couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the idea of being photographed by someone who knew how to make people look their best.

"Perfect," Arshad murmured, peering through the camera. "Now, lean in closer." The scent of his cologne, faint but noticeable, filled the space between them as they complied. Urooj giggled, and Hina couldn't help but smile genuinely, feeling a sense of camaraderie that she hadn't experienced in a long time. The camera clicked, capturing the moment.

As Arshad stepped back to look at the image on the screen, he made a few adjustments to Hina's posture. His touch was professional, yet it sent an electric current through her body, making her aware of his proximity in a way she hadn't been in years. She caught Urooj watching them, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Hina's heart skipped a beat, unsure if she should be embarrassed or elated.

"Great," Arshad said, his voice a little too loud in the quiet studio. "Now, let's try a mother-daughter pose." He guided Hina into place, his hands warm and firm on her shoulders. Urooj looked at her mother with a sparkle in her eye, as if she had caught her in a secret. Hina felt her cheeks heat up, but she couldn't bring herself to move away.

He positioned them closer, his fingertips gently pushing Hina's chin up so that her neck was long and elegant. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and she could feel the heat from his hand through the fabric of her blouse. "That's it," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. "Look at the camera and smile."

Urooj watched as Arshad's hands hovered around her mother, his movements precise and purposeful. Hina's eyes remained fixed on the lens, but she could sense Urooj's gaze on them. It was an odd sensation, being the subject of both the camera and her daughter's scrutiny. Yet, she felt a strange comfort in Arshad's touch, a reassurance that she had not felt in a very long time.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Urooj spoke up. "Wait, I have an idea," she said, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Let's take some photos as friends!" Before Hina could react, Urooj had snatched the camera from Arshad's grasp and was already setting it up for the next shot. She looked at Hina with a knowing smile, as if daring her to refuse.

Arshad chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "You're a natural director, Urooj," he said, stepping back and allowing her to take charge. Hina felt a mix of amusement and apprehension as her daughter positioned them both. It was clear that Urooj was up to something, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know what it was.

Urooj instructed them to stand side by side, with Arshad placing his arm around Hina's shoulder. "Now, lean in," she said, her voice filled with the authority of a seasoned photographer. "Look at each other and smile." Hina's heart fluttered as she found herself drawn into Arshad's warm embrace. His arm was firm yet comforting, and she couldn't help but look into his eyes, which held a spark of something she hadn't seen in a very long time.

The camera clicked, capturing the moment. The image on the screen was surprisingly intimate, their faces close, smiles genuine. It was a photo that could easily be mistaken for a couple's portrait. Hina felt a rush of emotions she hadn't expected, a cocktail of excitement and guilt. Was this crossing a line?

With a small laugh, Urooj handed the camera back to Arshad. "You're a good teacher" she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But I think I've found a new hobby." Hina couldn't help the blush that spread across her cheeks. Arshad's arm was still around her, and she could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong.

Reluctantly, she stepped away, her eyes lingering on his. He cleared his throat, looking a bit flustered. "I'll just pack up the camera," he said, turning away to gather his equipment. Hina took the opportunity to compose herself, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

When Arshad returned with the camera in hand, Urooj was already packed and waiting by the door. "Let's go, Ammi," she said, a knowing look in her eye. "We've got an early start tomorrow." Hina nodded, her cheeks still warm from the photoshoot. "Thank you," she said to Arshad, her voice a little shakier than she would have liked.

He handed her the camera. "Here," he said, his voice gruff. "It's all set for tomorrow. And if you need anything else, don't hesitate to call." The unspoken promise hung in the air, and Hina felt a thrill run through her.

 

[Shakir]

The next day, as they left the house for the cinema, Urooj was abuzz with excitement about the 3D movie she had picked out. Hina tried to mirror her daughter's enthusiasm, but her mind was elsewhere. She hadn't been to a movie theater in years, let alone watched a 3D film.

"Mom, you're going to love it," Urooj exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as they approached the grand entrance of the theater.

Hina nodded, trying to shake off her nerves. The last time she'd been to the cinema was before her marriage to Rafique. The thought of seeing a 3D movie was both thrilling and overwhelming. The bright lights and bustling crowd reminded her of a world she'd left behind long ago. As they collected their 3D glasses, she felt a gentle nudge of excitement growing within her.

Arshad led them to their seats, his confidence and ease in the modern world a stark contrast to her own. He placed the glasses on Hina's nose with a soft smile, his hands lingering for a brief moment. She blushed, unaccustomed to such tender gestures from anyone other than her children. The theater grew dim, and the trailers began to play. As the images danced in front of her, Hina found herself lost in the magic of the 3D effects. Her heart raced as the characters reached out from the screen, their world enveloping hers.

Urooj chuckled beside her, noticing her mother's wide-eyed amazement. Hina felt a warmth spread through her as she watched her daughter's joy, the years seemingly slipping away. Then, the feature film started, and she was transported to a land of fantasy.

The plot was simple but charming, a romance set in an enchanted forest. The characters leaped out from the screen in a kaleidoscope of colors that made her heart flutter. Hina had never felt so alive. She was so absorbed in the film that she barely registered when Arshad took her hand. It was a gentle gesture, one that made her feel protected, as if she were a teenager on her first date all over again.

"Would you like a sip of my drink?" Arshad whispered, his breath warm against her ear. Hina nodded, a smile playing on her lips. She reached for the straw with her free hand, the cool liquid quenching her parched throat. She had forgotten how cold drinks could feel in a dark theater, forgotten the simple pleasure of sharing such a mundane thing with someone.

Urooj giggled, noticing the exchange between them. "You guys are so cute," she teased, her voice filled with the lightness of youth. Hina's cheeks burned, but she couldn't help but feel a glow of happiness. The movie continued, its vibrant images and heart-wrenching love story drawing her further into its embrace.

As the film reached its climax, the hero and heroine confessed their love in a passionate embrace. The intensity of the scene caused Hina's hand to tighten around Arshad's. Without realizing it, she had leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his body was comforting, a stark contrast to the cold shoulder she'd grown accustomed to from Rafique over the years.

Arshad tensed for a moment before gently placing his arm around her. The weight of his embrace was like a warm blanket, and Hina felt a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in decades. His hand found hers, and they intertwined their fingers. She stole a glance at him, noticing the soft smile playing on his lips as he watched the movie.

The film's score swelled, and the lovers on screen kissed, their love conquering all. Hina felt a strange longing in her heart, a yearning for the kind of love she had only read about in books. She had loved Rafique once, but their love had withered over the years, leaving behind a barren wasteland of duty and resentment. Looking at Arshad, she realized that she was still capable of feeling something more.

As the credits rolled, Urooj grabbed her phone, eager to capture the moment. "Look at the camera," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Hina and Arshad obliged, their cheeks flushed in the dim light of the theater. The flash blinded them for a second, and when they opened their eyes, Urooj was already posting the photos with a caption that read, "My mom's first date night in 40 years!" Hina felt a mix of embarrassment and joy as she heard the camera's shutter click again.

They stepped out into the evening air, the cool breeze carrying with it the aroma of street food. Urooj suggested they grab dinner at the nearby restaurant she had been raving about. Arshad nodded, his eyes still on Hina, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The restaurant was cozy, with dim lights and the murmur of conversation creating a warm ambiance. As they settled into a booth, Urooj pulled out her phone again, insisting on capturing the moment. Hina felt a tug at her heart, watching her daughter's excitement. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to feel this way, to be a part of something that didn't revolve around her responsibilities.

They ordered a feast of their favorite dishes, the aroma of spices and sizzling meats filling the air. Hina couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a meal like this, savoring each bite without the burden of cooking or cleaning up. Arshad was a delightful conversationalist, his stories about his travels and photography adventures painting vivid images in her mind. He talked with such passion that she found herself eagerly awaiting his next words.

After dinner, as they strolled back home under the starlit sky, Arshad turned to Urooj with a hopeful glint in his eye. "Could I get a picture of the two of us?" he asked.

Urooj beamed and handed him her phone. "Of course!"

Arshad placed an arm around Hina's waist, his touch gentle yet firm. Hina's heart skipped a beat as she leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. She couldn't remember the last time a man had held her so casually yet so intimately. They posed for the camera, smiling into the lens, their eyes reflecting the glow of the streetlights. The click of the camera seemed to capture more than just their images; it captured a moment of possibility, a moment of rebirth.

Urooj took a few more snaps before declaring, "Alright, enough for the paparazzi." She winked at her mother, who couldn't help but laugh, feeling young again. The walk home was filled with light banter and shared glances between Hina and Arshad. It was as if they were two teenagers discovering the world together, each step a silent promise of a future they hadn't dared to dream of.

When they reached the door of Hina's house, Arshad paused, his hand on the doorknob. He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for a hint of what she was feeling. Hina felt her heart racing, unsure of what to expect. In a gesture that seemed to hold the weight of the world, Arshad kissed the back of his hand, a warmth spreading from his touch. He placed his hand over her heart, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," he whispered, his voice a soft caress in the night air. Hina's eyes searched his, finding a depth she hadn't noticed before.

"I had a great time too," she replied, her voice barely a murmur.

As they parted ways with a warm hug, Hina watched as Arshad disappeared into the night, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and anxiety. She closed the door behind her, the silence of the house feeling heavier than usual. She didn't realize how much she had missed the gentle hum of companionship.

Urooj bounced into the living room, her cheeks still flushed from the cool evening breeze. "Mom, isn't Arshad amazing?" she gushed, her voice filled with unbridled excitement.

Hina couldn't help but smile. "Yes, he's quite a charmer," she admitted, her heart still racing from the evening's events.

Urooj rolled her eyes playfully. "I can't believe you're blushing!" she said, before bounding up the stairs to her room.

Alone in the quiet of her own space, Hina felt the weight of the evening's revelations settle on her. She reached up to her chest, where Urooj had playfully cupped her breast. It was a gesture that had been innocent in its intent, but it had stirred something deep within her, a reminder of her own youth and the passion that had once burned bright. The warmth of Arshad's hand still lingered there, a phantom echo of what could be.

Her thoughts drifted back to the tender moment outside the theater. The way Arshad's hand had lingered on her heart, the unspoken promise in his eyes. It had been so long since she had felt desired, so long since anyone had seen her as more than a wife or a mother. The realization made her cheeks burn anew.

Hina lay in bed, the digital clock on the bedside table taunting her with its unchanging glow: 1:00 AM. Her mind raced with a cacophony of emotions and memories. She found herself replaying the evening's events, examining each gesture, each word spoken. It was as if she had woken from a long slumber, and the world was suddenly brimming with color and possibility.

 

[Shakir]

At night around 2 am she heard some sound coming from Khalid's room.

With a start, Hina heard a muffled sound coming from Khalid's room. At first, she dismissed it as the TV or music, but as the moan grew louder, she knew it was something more. Concerned, she tiptoed down the hallway, her heart racing. She paused outside his door, her hand hovering over the knob. The moaning grew more pronounced, and she could hear the unmistakable sounds of distress.

Without a second thought, she pushed the door open to find Urooj and Khalid tangled in a passionate embrace, their bodies moving in rhythm with a fervor that shocked Hina to her core. The sight of her children together in such a way was like a slap in the face, jolting her out of her own romantic reverie. She felt a mix of anger, disgust, and a deep, primal fear for their well-being.

Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. The room was a whirlwind of emotions, and she felt like an intruder in a sacred space. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the scattered clothes and the desperation in their expressions. They were so lost in their own world that they didn't notice her presence. Hina's heart broke for them, knowing the consequences of such a forbidden union.

For a moment, she contemplated retreating, giving them the privacy they hadn't sought. But the raw intensity of their passion held her captive. She realized she had to act, had to save them from themselves. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to break the silence. Instead, she watched silently, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do, what to say.

Khalid's hand squeezed Urooj's breast, his thumb circling her nipple with a practiced ease that sent shivers down her spine. Hina's eyes widened, her heart hammering in her chest as she took in the sight of her son's hands on her daughter's body. Her thoughts swirled in a tornado of disbelief and horror.

Their moans grew louder, and Hina could see the sweat glistening on their skin, the passion between them a living, breathing entity that consumed the room. The sight of Khalid's erect member, a testament to his desire for his own sister, was a stark reality that she could not ignore. It was thick and long, a monstrous intrusion into Urooj's delicate folds, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was indeed the eight inches that the whispers of gossip had suggested.

As if sensing her presence, Urooj's eyes snapped open, and she let out a shriek that pierced the air. "Fuck me, Khalid! Yeah, fuck your mommy's pussy!" she screamed, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and pain that sent chills down Hina's spine. Khalid froze, his eyes widening in terror as he realized his mother was standing in the doorway, a silent witness to their incestuous tryst.

With a trembling hand, Hina held up a single finger to her lips, urging Khalid to silence. For a moment, he stared at her in shock, his body still moving involuntarily inside Urooj. Then, with a nod of understanding, he stilled, his eyes never leaving hers. The room was thick with tension, their ragged breathing the only sound to break the silence.

Hina backed away slowly, her eyes never leaving her children's entwined forms. She retreated to her own room, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just witnessed. How could they? Her thoughts swirled like a tornado, leaving her feeling dizzy and nauseous. But she knew she had to be strong, had to find the right words to address this. So she decided to wait until the morning, when the fog of passion had lifted and their minds were clear.

The next morning dawned with the usual cacophony of the city. Hina waited in the kitchen, her heart heavy with dread as she listened to the sounds of Khalid getting ready for his job. He was a young man now, with responsibilities and a future that didn't include incest. She heard his footsteps growing louder as he approached the kitchen, and she braced herself for what was to come.

"Good morning, Ammi," Khalid said, his voice strained as he avoided eye contact. He poured himself a cup of tea, his hand shaking slightly.

Hina took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Urooj," she called out softly. Her voice seemed to echo through the small apartment, carrying the weight of what she had seen the previous night. Her daughter emerged from her room, her eyes sleepy but wary.

"Yes, Ammi?" Urooj responded, the innocence in her voice a stark contrast to the images that were burned into Hina's mind. She sat down at the kitchen table, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Hina took a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes flicking between her children. "Last night," she began, her voice shaking, "I heard something from Khalid's room."

Urooj's face paled, and she shared a panicked look with her brother. Hina could see the fear in their eyes, the realization of their mistake sinking in.

"What do you mean, Ammi?" Urooj asked, her voice trembling.

Hina took a sip of her now-cold tea, her hand steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I walked in on you and Khalid. What you two were doing..." she trailed off, unable to put the depravity of the scene into words. The silence that followed was like a thick fog, suffocating the room.

"I'm so sorry, Ammi," Khalid murmured, his eyes finally meeting hers. "It's just...it's complicated."

"Complicated?" Hina echoed, her voice laced with incredulity. "What could possibly be complicated about this? This isn't just wrong, it's forbidden!"

Urooj's eyes filled with tears as she stared at the floor. "It just happened," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We didn't mean for it to happen. It's not like we planned it."

"It's not about planning," Hina said, her voice firm despite the ache in her heart. "It's about respect for each other, for me, and for our family. This can never happen again."

Khalid's gaze dropped to the floor, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "I know, Ammi," he murmured, the weight of his words sinking into the tense air.

"We can't just pretend like it never happened," Hina continued, her voice trembling. "This is something we need to address."

Urooj looked up, her eyes meeting Hina's with a desperate plea. "But Ammi," she began, her voice choking on the words, "we love each other. It's not just lust, it's real love. We can't live without each other."

Her words hung in the air like a lead weight, and for a moment, Hina felt a flicker of doubt. Was it possible for siblings to feel that way? She had heard of such things, of course, but always as tragic stories that ended in sorrow. Yet, the love in Urooj's eyes was undeniable, as was the pain etched on Khalid's face.

"Love?" she questioned, her voice barely a whisper. "This isn't love. This is... this is..." she couldn't find the right words to express the tumult of emotions inside her.

Khalid stepped closer, his eyes beseeching. "It is love, Ammi. I swear it. We didn't mean for it to happen like this, but we can't control our feelings. We need each other."

Hina felt a tear slip down her cheek as she looked at her children, the pain in their eyes reflecting the turmoil in her own heart. "Love?" she whispered again, her voice cracking. "What about the consequences? What about the risks? Your lives, your futures... everything could be ruined by this!"

Urooj's eyes searched hers, desperation in her gaze. "We know, Ammi," she said softly. "But we can't help how we feel. We've tried to stay apart, but it's like a magnetic pull. And I know it's not right, but I don't want to live without him. I'll die, Ammi, if you force us to be apart."

Khalid stepped closer, his voice thick with emotion. "We'll leave, we'll go far away," he offered, his eyes never leaving hers. "We won't bring shame to the family. We'll start a new life together."

But before he could finish, Hina's hand shot out, and she slapped him across the face with a force that echoed through the room. The sting of the slap was a stark reminder of reality, a stark counterpoint to the passionate embrace she had witnessed just hours earlier.

"How could you?" she choked out, her voice a mix of anger and heartache. "How could you both do this to me?"

Khalid's hand flew to his cheek, the imprint of her hand stark against his skin. He took a step back, his eyes wide with shock and pain. "Ammi," he began, but she cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"I love you both," Hina said, her voice trembling. "But this isn't love. This is...this is a betrayal of the worst kind." The words tasted bitter in her mouth, but she knew they had to be said.

Khalid took another step back, his hand still cradling his cheek. "What do you want us to do, Ammi?" he asked, his voice cracking. "We'll do anything. Just tell us."

Hina took a deep, shuddering breath. "I want both of you to stay away from each other," she said firmly. "This... this has to end. Right now."

Urooj's eyes filled with despair, and she jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair in her haste. "No, Ammi, please," she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. "We can't."

With a swiftness that belied her age, Hina reached out and grabbed Urooj's wrist, her grip ironclad. She pulled her closer, searching her daughter's eyes for any hint of defiance. "You will," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. "For your own sake, for our family's sake, this has to end."

The knife clattered to the floor, a stark reminder of the desperation that had driven Urooj to such a drastic measure. Hina's eyes never left hers, her gaze a silent plea for understanding. Urooj's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. With a trembling sigh, she nodded, the first step in what would be a long and painful journey.

"We know, Ammi," she whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "We'll keep it a secret, I swear. No one will ever know."

"I really love him," Urooj repeated, her voice cracking with the weight of her confession. "More than anything. I didn't mean for it to happen, but now that it has... I can't live without him."

Hina's grip on Urooj's wrist tightened, the pain in her heart mirrored in her grasp. "Love is a powerful emotion, beta," she said, her voice softer now, the anger replaced by a deep sadness. "But this isn't the love that is meant for siblings. It's a love that can only bring pain and suffering."

Urooj pulled away, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and despair. "But it's real, Ammi," she insisted, her voice rising. "Why can't you see that?"

Hina's grip tightened, her eyes never wavering. "Because I am your mother," she said, her voice firm. "And it's my job to protect you, to guide you. This isn't love, Urooj. This is a sickness that will destroy us all."

Urooj's eyes flashed with anger. "It's not a sickness!" she shouted. "I've loved him since childhood. If it were just lust, it would have happened before. But it wasn't until last week that we...we became physical. And it was beautiful. It was everything I've ever wanted."

Khalid took a tentative step towards them, his eyes pleading. "Ammi, please," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not just me; Urooj feels the same way. We can't help it. It's like we're being torn apart by forces beyond our control."

Hina's eyes narrowed, remembering the words she had heard so clearly the night before. "You were calling my name?" she demanded, her voice icy.

Khalid's face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes dropping to the floor. "It was just... in the heat of the moment," he mumbled.

Hina's eyes searched Urooj's, looking for any sign of regret or embarrassment. But all she saw was a fiery determination, a love that seemed to burn brighter than the sun itself. Her heart broke all over again at the thought of her daughter being in love with her own brother.

"Hina," Khalid said, his voice thick with emotion. "We know it's not ideal, but it's the truth. We've been fighting this for so long, but we can't anymore. We need you to understand, to support us."

Her eyes searched his, looking for the son she knew, the boy who had once held her hand and promised to always protect her. And in that moment, she realized she had to choose. She could either push them away, shunning the love they claimed to have for each other, or she could accept them, flaws and all. With a heavy heart, she made her decision.

"I don't like this," Hina said, her voice low and trembling. "But I love you both too much to let you go down this path alone. If this is truly what you both want, then I will not stand in your way."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her sacrifice. Urooj's eyes lit up with hope, while Khalid's filled with relief. They knew they had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, but in that moment, they didn't care. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

"But," Hina continued, her voice firm despite the tears that threatened to spill over, "you will not disrespect me in such a way again. If you choose this path, you do so without calling me a part of it. Do you understand?"

Khalid nodded, the smirk playing on his lips belying his nerves. "We're sorry, Ammi," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "We'll be careful."

Urooj mirrored his gesture, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you, Ammi," she whispered against Hina's skin.

Their kisses were a silent apology, a declaration of love, and a promise to keep their darkest secret hidden. Hina felt their warm breath against her cheek, the brush of their lips a strange comfort amidst the storm of emotions.

 

[Shakir]

As Khalid left for office, Hina turned to Urooj, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. "Does it hurt you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "When he...penetrates you?"

Urooj looked at her mother, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "It did at first," she admitted, her eyes dropping to the floor. "But we've been careful, and now it feels...right."

Hina nodded slowly, trying to process her daughter's words. She knew that talking about such intimate matters was difficult, especially between a mother and daughter. But she also knew that it was important to be there for Urooj, to provide a safe space for her to share her feelings and experiences. She took a deep breath and reached out to touch Urooj's hand gently. "I'm here for you, beti," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm always here to listen."

Urooj's eyes widened at her mother's understanding, and she felt a weight lift off her chest. "Thank you, Ammi," she whispered, her voice shaking. "But there's something else I need to tell you."

Hina leaned in closer, her heart racing. "What is it, beti?" she prompted gently.

Urooj took a deep breath before speaking. "You know how we've been role-playing...in bed?" she began hesitantly. "Well, sometimes he pretends to be you."

Hina's eyes widened in shock, and she pulled her hand back. "What?!" she exclaimed, unable to hide her discomfort.

Urooj looked down, her cheeks now crimson. "It's just...it's part of the fantasy, Ammi," she tried to explain. "It's not real."

Hina felt a sudden chill run through her body, but she forced herself to remain calm. "But why would he want to...do that?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Urooj looked up, her eyes pleading. "He says it's because he wants to give you the pleasure I
You are missing from my childhood," she whispered. "It's his way of showing that he understands me, that he cares."

Hina felt a knot form in her stomach. She had always tried to be a good mother, but the pain of her failed marriage had taken a toll on her relationship with her children. She had devoted herself to her teaching career, often leaving them with their grandparents. Now, hearing that her daughter's partner was filling that void in such an intimate way, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy mixed with guilt.

Before she could respond, the door to the house creaked open and a knock echoed through the hallway. Urooj's eyes darted to the door, and she jumped to her feet. "It's Arshad," she said, her voice louder now. "He said he found your camera."

Hina stood up, smoothing her wrinkled dress as she followed Urooj to the door. Her heart was racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and anxiety. How would she face Arshad now, knowing what she knew?

When she saw him, she forced a smile. "Arshad, you found it," she said, her voice strained. "Thank you so much for bringing it back."

Arshad stepped into the hallway, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Hina. He held out the camera, its lens cracked and body scratched. "It's damaged," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of accusation. "It must have fallen."

Hina took the camera with trembling hands, feeling a sudden anger rising within her. "How did you find it?" she asked, her voice tight.

"I was taking some photos outside the school," Arshad replied casually, his eyes never leaving hers. "It was lying on the ground."

Hina nodded stiffly, trying to keep her emotions in check. The camera had been a gift from her ex-husband, a symbol of the happiness they once shared. Now, seeing it broken, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. "Thank you for returning it," she said again, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Urooj, sensing the tension in the room, excused herself. "I'll just...uh, go make some tea," she mumbled, retreating to the kitchen.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Arshad turned to Hina, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I know this isn't easy for you."

Hina's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of malice or mockery. Finding none, she took a deep breath. "What do you want, Arshad?" she asked, her voice still tight.

He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. "Actually, I've been thinking about participating in a photography competition," he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "They're looking for unique subjects, and I thought..."

Hina's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying, Arshad?"

"Well," he began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "the competition is looking for photographs that capture the essence of a person's life, their struggles, their happiness. And I thought, who better to model for such a piece than you?"

Hina felt a flush of surprise and uncertainty. "Me?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Arshad nodded eagerly. "Yes, you," he affirmed, his eyes holding hers. "You have a story to tell, Hina. A story of resilience, of a woman who has faced challenges and come out stronger. Your eyes, your smile, the lines on your face - they all speak volumes."

Urooj emerged from the kitchen, her curiosity piqued by the conversation. She had been eavesdropping, unable to ignore the sudden shift in the atmosphere. She looked at Arshad, then at her mother, and felt a strange mix of emotions. Part of her was repulsed by the thought of her mother being photographed by the man who had just confessed to such an intimate role-play, but another part of her was intrigued by the idea.

"Yes, Mama," she said suddenly, her voice stronger than she had anticipated. "You should try it."