Hiraeth

09

SITARA didn't have the courage to look them in the eye anymore. Her head hung low in shame. Asad had eventually managed to deprive her of that one thing that she had possessed with so much contentment, her self respect. 

She sat in silence, mindlessly helping Ayla with her homework as her heart was somewhere else, inconsolable and crestfallen. 

"Uhh no." Ayla gasped petrified, dropping the yellow crayon from her hand and looked up at her. 

Sitara raised her eyebrows, wordlessly inquiring.

"I ruined the sun." She mumbled, looking at the huge patch of bright yellow colour that had been etched outside the confined lines of the drawing.

She managed to feign a small smile at her, telling her that it was alright and they could always fix it again. 

"Yeah we will have to review those papers with our legal team first." Rehaan's voice over a call echoed in the verandah and she reached out for the dupatta that she had hung on the crest of the garden chair.

Ayla looked up, raising her at arms to be picked but slowly retraced them back, noticing the hurt on his right hand. He seemed to notice his daughter's dismay and advanced his hand forward, ruffling her soft hair as the look of fondness never left his face.

"Does it hurt, Papa?" Ayla had innocently asked when he hung up but Sitara couldn't help but feel immensely suffocated. 

"No, love." 

"Can I show this to Abeer, Mummy?" She turned at her, who had been somewhat lost in her own thoughts and made Rehaan look at her as well.

"Baby, he'll end up tearing it." Sitara reasoned, being well aware of her two year old's destructive nature when it came to delicate things. 

Ayla had shrugged her shoulders, denoting that she wouldn't mind so. She loved getting a reaction out of him even if it meant sacrificing her labour of love. 

"Careful." She straightened the hem of her summer frock as she got down on her toes, ready to run inside the house. 

"Where is Abeer?" She raised her gaze, looking at him as he had asked. She noticed that he had clenched his fist slightly, probably to ward off the pain that had come with gripping Ayla's hands for a while and her heart sank.

"He's with mom." She replied, looking away from his bruised hand as he had noticed her fervent gaze upon it.

She wanted to apologise to him for all the happenings but somewhere deep down, all of her was submerged in a grave sense of embarrassment and shame. She didn't want to discuss those things with him again, highlight the crux of her terrible old life in front of his eyes again. She wanted to forget it like a nightmare, like she had always tried for many such instances but she knew that he'd always remember.

And it would never let her look into his eyes again.

"Sitara?" She gulped, hearing him call out her name this time as he sat on the vacant chair across her where his daughter had sat. The way he would call her name out would make her do nothing except look at him. 

"You're alright?" The hue of his face indicated that he was equally overwhelmed. All of that wasn't new for her, but for them it was. She was sure that he hadn't ever seen any man behave so. 

She nodded, holding onto her left arm with her free hand a little too tightly, squeezing it out of nervousness which had been causing her pale skin to turn into a shade on pink. Her light brown orbs darted everywhere else, except looking at him as she could feel his gaze studying her face.