Amaal probably felt him in the hall because her eyes turned to him. Iram’s followed.
“Uhh…” Samar held up the boxes. “Amaal, where did you want these?”
“In the kitchen. I’ll take them,” she came to him quickly and took the boxes. “Behave.” She whispered to him. “Iram, I brought chocolate barfi for everyone.”
She was off with the boxes, turning into a door he assumed led to the kitchen. And he was left alone with Iram for the first time since the blast. They had passed by each other, she had smiled at him with a lot of unsaid things, and he had smiled back. Never thad they stopped in an impossible stalemate like this, needing words.
“How are you feeling now?” Iram asked.
“What happened to me? You were… unwell.”
She had been struggling with postpartum and PTSD. Her gaze went to his arms. And he followed it. “Right. It’s fine.”
“I asked Amaal for any dietary restrictions…”
“There are none.”
She nodded.
The space fell silent.
“Atharva and everyone are outside,” she said.
“Yes. I saw. I’ll be out.” He began to turn.
“Oh, no, you can sit here. I didn’t mean it like that. If you want to lie down or something, the bedroom downstairs is also open.”
Samar saw her attempt to give him an opening. He smiled — “I am fine. It’s been close to a year.”
“Oh… yes.”
“How are you doing now?” He asked.
“Who, me? Oh, I am doing fine. Really, good.” She smiled back, their interaction civil for the first time since she had set foot inside their office.
“That’s good.” Samar nodded. “I’ll go out.”
He turned on his heels and walked out, limping as he descended the threshold step. His equation with Iram was a strange one. He was guilty of things there; his anger was now dead, but he did not know what to make of this relationship. She was Atharva’s wife and Amaal’s friend. In time, he would have to come to some semblance of a relationship with her. He didn’t know what that would be or how that would be.
“Daaxsaab’s in the house!” Adil yelled.
Samar glanced up. The party that was obsessed with Yathaarth’s toddling suddenly focused on him. Samar felt special as well as like a zoo animal. But he laughed it off, holding onto the special.
————————————————————
“You had rajma chawal for lunch also.” Atharva pointed, seeing him polish off the last of his rice. Samar sat back, unable to hide his appetite that had resurrected after months. The garden was fragrant with fresh tandoori food; there were more dishes on the table, but he had seen a good rajma-chawal and only helped himself to that.
“How do you know?” Qureshi frowned.
“He knows everything.” Adil threw a chole into the air and caught it in his mouth.
“How did you do that?” Daniyal piped up.
“Open your mouth and sit back.”
“No!” Iram yelled but the chole was already in the air and pinging off Daniyal’s nose. Before anybody else, Yathaarth began to clap his hands, sitting in her arms.
“That’s not how it’s done.” Atharva picked a chole and cleaned off the gravy.
