Shock

Two hours passed in agonizing anticipation. The doctor conducted tests on Uncle, and now we awaited the results. He remained unconscious.

I informed Abid's secretary about Uncle's condition and called their house. Afiya arrived half an hour later, her face etched with distress. I reassured her, placing my faith in Allah. He wouldn't wrong a good soul; there must be a reason behind this. All we could do was trust and practice patience.

"Shhh... Afiya, don't speak ill. Let's pray and be patient. Uncle will recover," I whispered.

"I am, Appi. Ya Allah, please make my father healthy," she prayed, resting her head on my shoulder.

My parents arrived shortly after. My mother comforted Afiya while my father paced the waiting room anxiously.

I approached him. "Papa, please sit. Don't dwell on negative thoughts. Uncle will be fine, Inshallah," I urged, and he nodded in agreement.

"She's right, Mr. Khan. He's stable now," Dr. Khan, our family physician, assured us. He was well acquainted with Papa's health condition.

"What happened to him?" I inquired, bracing myself for the answer.

Dr. Khan's response left us reeling. "He's been drugged."

"What...??" We exclaimed simultaneously. Drugs? How was that possible? Uncle would never indulge in such activities.

"Yes, we found drugs in his stomach that had to be removed. Thankfully, he's stable now. You brought him in just in time; it could have been dangerous otherwise," Dr. Khan explained solemnly.

"My father drugged? But how?" Afiya's shock mirrored our own. We all knew him well; he detested such substances. It was inconceivable that he would willingly ingest them.

"I've been his personal physician for years. I can attest that he's never touched drugs, let alone smoked. It's clear he didn't ingest them willingly. Do any of you know what he last consumed?"

Dr. Khan's question drew everyone's attention, and I felt their accusing gazes fall upon me.

Of course, I was the last person to see him before this happened. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

"He had green tea," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The green tea was laced with drugs, inhibiting his bodily functions and rendering him numb. It's fortunate you brought him here before it escalated further. You likely saved his life," Dr. Khan affirmed.

Saved his life? But it was my negligence that put him in danger. Guilt consumed me as I dashed out of the hospital, racing back to the office.

Arriving at the now-empty office, I hurried upstairs. Most of the staff had already left for the day.

I headed straight for the security office, pulling up the canteen's camera footage. I fast-forwarded to the crucial moment and there it was: the peon tampering with the green tea.

Anger surged within me. I shouted his name repeatedly, but he was nowhere to be found. Abhi rushed to my side, alarmed.

"What's wrong? Is Mr. Abdullah okay?" he asked anxiously.

"He's stable now, but where is that Peon?" I pointed to the screen, fury evident in my voice. He was like a father to me; how dare someone try to harm him without reason? What could the peon's motive possibly be?

Abhi watched the footage intently. "He's already left. But what was he doing?" he wondered aloud.

"He drugged Mr. Abdullah. The green tea he consumed here was spiked. I need to know why he did it," I seethed. It was unfathomable why someone would want to harm him. The Peon didn't even know him.

"You can't chase him. He's probably already out of town by now," Abhi advised, his tone resigned.

"How did you know?" I asked, astonished.

"He resigned today."

"What??" The shock reverberated through me.

"Yeah... He claimed his mother was gravely ill and had passed away. Said he needed to go to his village," Abhi explained.

"Do you have his Mumbai address?"

"Of course, I have all his details. But I can't guarantee they're genuine."

Damn it...!

Of course, they were likely fake. He must have meticulously planned everything. But why?

Frustration boiled inside me, and I swept the files off the table in a fit of rage.

"Calm down, Areena. Let me handle this. We'll catch him. Don't worry," Abhi reassured me.

I nodded, but uncertainty gnawed at me. What should I do now? My phone interrupted my thoughts, flashing Dad's name on the screen.

"Assalamualaikum. Is everything okay, Dad?" I answered.

"Walaikum Assalam, Areena. Yes, everything's fine. Zain woke up and he wants to see you. Please come quickly," Dad informed me.

Zain...!

Since when did Dad start calling Uncle by his name? Has their relationship evolved further?

"Areena, are you there?" Dad's voice brought me back to reality.

"Yes, Papa, I'm coming," I replied, my mind racing with questions.

I hung up and instructed Abhi not to disclose anything to anyone. I don't trust anyone at the moment. I needed to stay updated on every detail. I wasn't going to let him slip away so easily.

When I arrived at the hospital, everyone was gathered in Uncle's room. Despite his pallor, his characteristic humor remained intact.

"Assalamualaikum, Uncle... How are you feeling now?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. I knew I wasn't to blame, but guilt still gnawed at me. I had to tread carefully.

"Walaikum Assalam, Beta. I'm looking dashing, as you can see. Come, sit beside me," he beckoned, patting the space next to him.

I hurried over and embraced him, tears streaming down my face. I cried unabashedly in his comforting embrace as he stroked my head paternalistically.

"Shhh... I'm here, Areena. Look at me; I'm fine. And it's all thanks to you. Stop crying now," he soothed.

"But it's... all because of me... I'm sorry, Dad... I don't understand... why he did that... But I promise... I'll make him suffer... for what he did..." I choked out between sobs.

"Stop blaming yourself, Areena. It's not your fault. And I know you won't let him get away with it," he reassured me, chuckling softly.

His laughter brought a small smile to my lips. I pulled away from his embrace and settled on the stool beside his bed.

"I think Dad's doing much better now. You all should go and get some rest," Afiya suggested, but I hesitated to leave.

"Mumma, Papa, you should head home. I'll be there later," I pleaded.

"But, Appi, you need rest too," Afiya insisted.

"No, I'm fine, dear. You all should go and rest," I insisted.

"I...!" Afiya started, but Uncle interjected.

"I think Areena is right. She'll stay here. You go and rest, Afiya," he asserted, casting a meaningful glance at Papa, who nodded in agreement.

It seemed like there was more to his statement than met the eye.

"But, Papa, I..." Afiya began.

"She's staying here," Uncle reiterated firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Afiya acquiesced.

"Come, child. We'll drop you home. Actually, even better, why don't you join us for dinner?" Papa suggested, looking at Uncle, who smiled and agreed.

"Sounds wonderful, Afiya. Go with Uncle and Aunt, and don't give them any trouble," Uncle teased.

"Papa... I'm not a child anymore," Afiya protested, her pout adding a touch of humor to the moment.

We all shared a laugh, momentarily forgetting the tension and worry that had gripped us.

As Mom, Dad, and Afiya departed, leaving Uncle and me alone, a heavy silence settled between us. He seemed lost in a world of his own thoughts.

Suddenly, he spoke.

"Do you still love him?" his voice broke the silence, catching me off guard.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. We weren't in a relationship anymore, so I settled for a simple, "No... I mean... I don't know."

He regarded me with a look I couldn't decipher, perhaps wondering how someone could be so oblivious to their own feelings.

"Did you know Abid still loves you?" he continued, causing my heart to race.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, unable to articulate the turmoil within me.

"Relax, Areena. I want you to know that he still loves you," he reassured me, his words stirring up a whirlwind of emotions.

But Uncle, you have no idea...

I wanted to confess everything—the truth about Abid's recent actions, his betrayal with that blonde woman. But I couldn't bear the thought of tarnishing his image in Uncle's eyes. After all, Abid was his son, and he deserved to be seen in the best light.

"He doesn't love me... He..." I struggled to find the right words.

"He does, Areena. Do you know what he's been through these past five years, how much he's suffered?" Uncle's voice was laced with concern, and I listened intently, trying to understand.

"He suffered..."

I gazed at him, sensing the weight of his words, the pain etched in his expression. I wanted him to continue, to unravel the mystery of Abid's suffering.

"I don't know what happened between you two. But that night, when he tried to stop you, someone struck him on the head, and he lost consciousness. His friend John found him and took him home the next morning," Uncle revealed, shocking me to the core.

Someone had attacked him? But why?

A memory surfaced—the anonymous caller who had warned me about Abid. Could he be responsible for this?

"I still remember that night vividly. I didn't leave his side for a moment. And in his delirium, he called out your name countless times. But I couldn't do anything because I didn't even know you at the time. In fact, I heard your name for the first time that night," Uncle continued, his words piercing my heart like a dagger.

"You have no idea, Areena, how much he suffered. For almost half a year, he searched for you tirelessly, but to no avail. I wanted to help him, to support him, but he refused. He never confided in me about what was troubling him, but I could sense his pain," Uncle revealed, his voice tinged with sadness.

He tried to find me.

He searched for me.

He suffered because of me.

The weight of his words crushed me, sending my heart into a frenzy of conflicting emotions.

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of a lifetime of regret and sorrow. His pale face betrayed the depth of his pain, and I could feel the anguish emanating from him.

"He never confides in me. He respects and cares for me, but our bond isn't strong enough for him to share his troubles with me. He's been unraveling before my eyes, and yet I feel powerless to help him. I feel defeated," Uncle confessed, his voice tinged with despair.

"He's never been able to connect with anyone on a deep level. He's a good son, brother, and friend. He'll listen to your problems and go to great lengths to solve them, but he never shares his own. He never forms emotional attachments, especially with women. You can trust him, but he struggles to trust others, and it's not his fault. It's all my fault. He's suffered since childhood because of me," Uncle lamented, his words piercing my heart like arrows.

I struggled to comprehend. Why was Abid suffering because of Uncle? I wanted to ask, but the words refused to form. Sensing my confusion, Uncle continued.

"He's never known love, Areena. He's never received care. My wife was... a bitch. I apologize for speaking ill of her in front of you, but there's no other way to describe her. I regret the day I met her and fell in love with her.

We had an arranged marriage, and I believed in the ideals of respecting and loving one's wife. I thought it was my duty to fulfill her every wish. But she was selfish. All she cared about was money.

After Abid was born, she changed completely. She never treated him like her own child because he hindered her freedom. She never cared for him. We fought incessantly.

When Abid was five, she left us for a wealthier man," Uncle's voice cracked as he recounted the painful memories.

I reached out and touched his arm, tears streaming down my face. His story was heart-wrenching, filled with betrayal and abandonment.

"I threw myself into work to numb the pain of her betrayal. But in doing so, I neglected my children. They were raised by my sister. And when she passed away, Abid suffered the most," Uncle continued, his voice heavy with remorse.

"When I finally realized the extent of Abid's struggles—his fights, smoking, and other troubling behaviors—I understood my mistakes. But it was too late. I tried to reach out to him, but he always pushed me away.

It's all my fault, Areena. It's all my mistakes," Uncle concluded, his words weighted with the burden of regret.

As he sighed, I couldn't help but feel the weight of his pain. His story shattered the illusion that others led better lives. Everyone had their own suffering, their own pain. More tears spilled from my eyes, mingling with his.

"No... Uncle... You were also suffering at that time... Don't say that," I attempted to console him, but my words fell short in the face of his profound anguish.

After a brief but heavy silence, Uncle uttered words I never imagined I would hear from him:

"I want your help to bring my son back, Areena. I want you to marry him."

The shock reverberated through me like an electric current. Surely, I had misheard him. Me, marry him?

"Me...?" I stammered, unable to comprehend what he was suggesting.

"I know it sounds selfish of me to ask this. He broke your heart, treated you poorly, and caused you immense pain. But underneath it all, he's a good person, Areena.

His heart is tethered to yours, and you have the power to make him better. I know he still loves you," Uncle explained, his eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—pain, guilt, disappointment, and above all, hope.

His words left me reeling, my heart pounding with anxiety and confusion. How could I possibly navigate this tangled web of emotions?

Uncle reached out and gently took my hand, drawing my attention back to him. His eyes bore into mine, filled with an intensity I couldn't ignore.

"I'm not forcing you, Areena. It's entirely your choice. I've already spoken to your parents, and they're willing," he reassured me, his words offering a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos in my mind.

Relief washed over me as he confirmed that my parents were unaware of Abid and my past. I couldn't bear the thought of facing them now, burdened with the weight of my history with Abid.

But as I stepped out onto the balcony to catch my breath, the enormity of Uncle's request hit me like a tidal wave. Everything was spinning out of control, and I felt utterly overwhelmed.

Five years ago, the idea of marrying Abid would have filled me with joy—it was the fulfillment of a dream. But now, everything has changed. The past was too fraught with pain and betrayal to be forgotten, let alone forgiven.

Returning to Uncle's room, I found him lying still, his expression unchanged. He was in pain, and I longed to ease his suffering. But at what cost?

"You can come in, Areena," Uncle's voice broke the silence, and I complied, taking my place beside him once more.

An awkward silence enveloped us, broken only by Uncle's voice after a time.

As Uncle recounted the harrowing events of that fateful night, his words weighed heavily on my heart. His pain was palpable, and I sat there, feeling utterly helpless, unsure of how to comfort him.

"When I heard your name that night, I knew you were special to him. He searched for you everywhere.

But one night, he came home devastated, consumed by anger and rage. He was muttering something incomprehensible as he thrashed his room. I tried to calm him, but it was futile.

He began punching the wall, his hand bleeding, yet he seemed numb to the pain. I had to intervene. I slapped him," Uncle confessed, his voice trembling with the weight of his memories.

His words hung in the air, and I could see the turmoil etched on his face. I remained silent, unsure of how to console him as he relived that painful moment.

"I had never raised my hand to him before. Not when he returned from street fights, not when he smoked, not even when he had an accident while racing.

But that night, I had to do something to snap him out of his despair. He collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he cried out, 'She forgot me... She left me.'

The next day, he left for Dubai, and he was reluctant to return. But I knew he was running from himself, burying his emotions beneath his work," Uncle continued, his voice heavy with emotion.

As the nurse arrived with food, interrupting our conversation, Uncle shifted his attention to ensuring that I took care of myself.

"I'm sharing this with you so you can make an informed decision, Areena. It's entirely up to you. I'm not pressuring you.

I know this isn't the ideal setting for such discussions, but when you called me 'Dad' in your moment of distress, I couldn't help but open up to you.

You have a beautiful heart, Areena, and I understand why Abid fell for you. Take your time and make the decision that's right for you.

You will always be my daughter, regardless of your choice," Uncle reassured me, a warm smile gracing his lips as he placed his hand on my head.

I nodded in response, overwhelmed by his kindness and understanding.

"Now, finish your dinner. You also need to take your medicines," I said, returning his smile, grateful for his unwavering support.