ZAIN
Zain's mind started spinning as the lawyer read through the points of his father's will.
"Mr. Muzammil Farooq divided his property into two equal portions. One portion belongs to you, and the other... he appointed you as guardian until the rightful heir comes forward to claim it, or until you choose to transfer it." The lawyer kept explaining, but Zain's thoughts blurred into a haze.
His father....who always insisted he had no one but his mother and him.....had suddenly revealed otherwise.
In a moment, Zain was staring at a reality he could not comprehend. His father had divided his property into two parts, and clearly, the other half didn't belong to his mother.
Then who was so dear to his Baba that he gave them half his wealth? Who?
It wasn't about the property...Zain didn't care for a single penny of it. But the fact that someone else had been placed on the same level as him shook him to his core. A crushing wave struck his chest.
"Who is this person? Who was more important to my father than Maa?"
He asked the lawyer, but the man only shrugged helplessly.
"Your father gave me this letter to hand to you with his will. Perhaps the answer lies inside." The lawyer placed a sealed envelope alongside the copy of the will.
On the envelope, Zain's name was written.....in his father's unmistakable handwriting. Not in a thousand years could he forget it.
Once the lawyer and Mr. Alam had left, Zain sat staring at the letter and the will. Muzammil Farooq had been a renowned banker. Even half of his estate was worth millions. Yet, in Zain's life, his father's entire focus had always been on him and Maa. His whole world had revolved around them. And now, suddenly, there was someone else....someone who stood on the same level.
He knew the answer lay within that envelope. But he could not yet summon the courage to open it. The letter felt like a ticking bomb in his hands, one that could explode at any moment and shatter him into pieces.
At last, he picked it up, leaving the copy of the will behind, and walked toward his mother's room.
Ayesha greeted her son with a smile, but her smile was not returned. Something about his presence felt heavy, different. She saw in his eyes a depth of grief, as though he feared losing someone dear. And deep inside, she already knew who it could be.
He came closer and bent on his knees before her. Now, his grief was mingled with a fragile hope. He searched her eyes desperately.
"Maa, I want to ask you something. If you know the answer, just nod your head."
Ayesha gazed at her son....he was far from himself. She had dreaded this moment for years. Muzammil now lay beneath the soil, beyond questions, beyond explanations. And she was left to face what she had never wished to confront.
"Mom... was there someone else in Dad's life... other than us?"
Her heart ached. Perhaps Zain expected a "no," and she longed to give him one. But the bitter truth was different. There had been someone else. Someone she could no longer hide. Lying would only deepen his wounds. They both needed to face this together.
Unable to meet his eyes, she lowered her gaze and nodded.
That one nod shattered him. All these years, he had been living in a lie, sheltered by illusions woven by his parents.
Ayesha saw something die in his eyes. His trust in them took its last breath. Without another word, he turned and strode out. The automatic door slid shut behind him, leaving her alone with her silent grief. She wondered if he would ever understand what they had endured....or if she would ever be able to make him understand.
Zain collapsed onto his bed, helpless, bewildered, broken.
"Wasn't it enough to lose you, Baba? Wasn't it enough to bury a part of myself with you that day? Why did you do this to me, your son?"
He leaned back, shutting his eyes, but the pain was unbearable. At last, he made a decision. No matter how much it hurt, he had to read the letter. One last time, his father had something to say to him. No matter how lost, disappointed, or betrayed he felt, he still longed to connect with his father...
for the last time.
His hand instinctively touched his pocket to make sure the envelope was still there. Then, with trembling fingers, he pulled it out. His hands resisted him, reluctant to unfold the truth.
Finally, just as he began to open it, Mr. Alam peeked inside.
"Zain, you're getting late. Remember, you have to renew the contract with LTA," he reminded him professionally.
"Mr. Alam... I need a few minutes. Please," Zain said quietly.
Mr. Alam nodded and left him in the privacy he desperately needed.
Zain shut his eyes, steadying himself. After so long, Baba was speaking to him again. His Baba....whom he had loved more than anyone, whom he had relied on after God . Would his father still remain on the pedestal of his heart after he read this letter?
The answer, he already knew, was yes. He loved his Baba, no matter what. That love would never waver.
Taking a deep breath, he finally opened the letter.