Chapter 3:The Line We Crossed
1695 Words
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Ayesha didn’t sleep that night.
The text from `M` was still burned into her phone.
`You think you can take what’s mine?`
She read it 12 times. Deleted it. Then recovered it from trash just to read it again.
At 5 AM she gave up and went to the window. The Karachi skyline was dark, with only a few lights still on.
A knock.
“Ayesha?”
Zayan’s voice.
She opened the door. He was in a black t-shirt and sweatpants. Hair messy. No tie. No CEO mask. Just... a man who also couldn’t sleep.
“You saw it,” he said. Not a question.
Ayesha nodded. “How did she get my number?”
Zayan’s jaw clenched. “That’s what I’m finding out. She won’t touch you. Not while you’re under my roof.”
“Under your contract,” Ayesha corrected quietly.
Zayan stepped closer. “Is that all this is to you? A contract?”
The question hung between them.
Ayesha didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Zayan exhaled. “Go back to sleep. I’ll have Nida drive you to the hospital tomorrow. For Hamza.”
He turned to leave.
“Zayan,” Ayesha called.
He stopped but didn’t turn.
“Thank you. For last night. At the gala.”
For a second he stood still. Then: “Don’t thank me for doing what I’m supposed to do.”
The door closed softly.
---
*MALIK INDUSTRIES - 10 AM*
Hamza’s surgery was in 2 days. Ayesha spent the morning at the hospital. When she came back to the office, Nida was waiting.
“Mrs. Malik, Mr. Malik wants you in his office. Now.”
Ayesha’s stomach dropped.
Zayan’s office was on the top floor. Glass walls. View of the whole city.
He was on a call when she entered. Arguing.
“No. I don’t care what the board says. She’s my wife. That means she comes to the Dubai trip with me.”
He hung up and looked at her.
“Pack a bag,” he said. “We’re flying to Dubai tonight. 3 days.”
Ayesha blinked. “What? Why?”
“Client meeting. And because Mahira is in Karachi. You’re safer with me.”
“Safer?” Ayesha repeated. “Or you just don’t want me alone?”
Zayan walked around his desk. He stopped 2 feet from her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. Wood and something clean.
“Both,” he admitted. His voice dropped. “Does that bother you?”
Ayesha shook her head. It shouldn’t have, but it didn’t.
“Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll pack.”
---
*PRIVATE JET - 11 PM*
The jet was bigger than her apartment. Cream leather seats. Soft lighting.
Ayesha sat by the window, hugging a blanket. She was in a simple navy dress. Hair down.
Zayan sat across from her, working on his laptop. For an hour neither spoke.
Finally Ayesha asked, “Have you done this before? Fake marriages?”
Zayan looked up. “No.”
“Then why are you so good at pretending?”
He closed his laptop. “I’m not pretending.”
Ayesha frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Zayan said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “When I called you my wife in the lobby. When I held your hand at the gala. When I told Mahira not to talk to you... that wasn’t in the contract.”
Ayesha’s breath caught.
“Zayan—”
“Don’t,” he cut her off. “Don’t make this complicated, Ayesha. We have rules.”
“But you’re breaking them,” she whispered.
Zayan met her eyes. Dark, tired, honest. “I know.”
The plane hit turbulence. Ayesha gasped and grabbed the armrest.
Before she could think, Zayan was there. His hand covering hers. Warm. Steady.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you.”
The turbulence stopped. But he didn’t let go.
Neither did she.
---
*DUBAI - BURJ AL MALIK HOTEL - 3 AM*
Two suites. Side by side. That was the plan.
The concierge handed Zayan two key cards.
Zayan looked at Ayesha. Then at the keys.
“One suite,” he said suddenly.
The concierge blinked. “Sir?”
“One suite. Two bedrooms. That’s all we need.”
Ayesha didn’t argue. She couldn’t.
The suite was insane. Marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, a view of the Burj Khalifa.
Two bedrooms. One bed each.
Zayan dropped his bag in one room. Ayesha took the other.
For a long time, they stayed in their separate rooms.
At 4 AM, Ayesha heard it. A sound from Zayan’s room.
She knocked. No answer.
She opened the door.
Zayan was sitting on the floor, back against the bed. Head in his hands.
“Zayan?”
He looked up. His eyes were red. Not from anger. From exhaustion.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Pretend,” he said. “Pretend I don’t notice you. Pretend I don’t care if Mahira scares you. Pretend I don’t want to—”
He stopped himself.
Ayesha crossed the room and sat on the floor next to him. Not touching. But close.
“Want to what?” she asked softly.
Zayan turned to her. “You deserve better than a contract, Ayesha. You deserve someone who chooses you. Not because of money. Not because of the board.”
Ayesha’s heart was pounding. “And do you? Choose me?”
Zayan stared at her. For a long time.
Then he reached out. His thumb brushed her cheek.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered. “But yes. I think I do.”
The air between them shifted.
Ayesha closed her eyes. She could feel his breath.
“Zayan,” she breathed.
He leaned in.
Their lips met.
Soft at first. Questioning.
Then deeper. Like 6 months of restraint was breaking.
Zayan’s hand came up to cup her face. Ayesha’s hands fisted in his shirt.
It wasn’t in the contract.
It wasn’t part of the deal.
But God, it felt real.
They pulled apart, both breathing hard.
Zayan rested his forehead against hers. “This ruins everything,” he said.
“I know,” Ayesha whispered.
“Do you regret it?”
Ayesha opened her eyes. “No.”
Zayan closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “We should stop. Before this gets worse.”
“Okay,” Ayesha said. But neither of them moved.
Finally Zayan stood up. He offered her his hand.
“Bed,” he said. “Separate beds.”
Ayesha took his hand and let him pull her up.
They stood there for a second.
Then Zayan dropped her hand and walked to his room.
“Goodnight, Ayesha.”
“Goodnight, Zayan.”
---
*DUBAI CLIENT MEETING - NEXT DAY*
They acted normal. Professional.
But every time their eyes met across the conference table, both of them remembered the floor. The kiss.
After the meeting, a client’s wife came up to them. “You two are so cute together. How long have you been married?”
“6 months,” Zayan answered smoothly. His hand found Ayesha’s lower back.
“6 days,” Ayesha corrected without thinking.
The woman laughed. “Newlyweds.”
Zayan didn’t correct her.
In the car back to the hotel, silence.
“Ayesha,” Zayan said finally.
“Hmm?”
“If I kissed you again, would you stop me?”
Ayesha looked at him. “No.”
Zayan closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel harder.
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*HOTEL SUITE - 10 PM*
Ayesha was in the shower when she heard it. Glass breaking.
She ran out, towel around her, hair dripping.
Zayan was standing in the living room. A wine glass shattered on the floor. And in his hand... her phone.
With Mahira’s text on the screen.
“She’s escalating,” Zayan said, voice deadly calm. “She sent this 10 minutes ago.”
New text: `I’m in Dubai too. We should meet. Just us girls. :)`
Ayesha felt cold. “She’s here?”
“Yes.” Zayan threw the phone on the couch. He looked furious. Not at her. At the situation.
He crossed the room in 3 steps and pulled her into a hug.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t for cameras.
“Don’t be scared,” he murmured into her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Ayesha, still in just a towel, wrapped her arms around him. “I’m not scared when you’re here.”
Zayan pulled back slightly. Looked down at her. At the water dripping from her hair. At the way she was looking at him.
The line was so thin.
“Go get dressed,” he said hoarsely. “We’re leaving. Now. Back to Karachi.”
“Why?”
“Because if I stay in this room with you for one more minute, I’m not going to be able to keep my promise. About separate beds. About 6 months. About any of it.”
Ayesha nodded. She understood.
As she walked to her room, Zayan called after her.
“Ayesha.”
She turned.
“I chose you,” he said. “Even if it ruins everything.”
---
*BACK IN KARACHI - MALIK MANSION - 4 AM*
They didn’t talk on the flight.
At the mansion, Zayan walked her to her door.
“Security is doubled,” he said. “Nida will be with you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
They stood there.
“Goodnight,” Ayesha said.
Zayan nodded. He turned to go to his room.
Then stopped.
Turned back.
And kissed her.
Not soft this time. Not questioning.
Real. Desperate. Like he’d been holding it in since Dubai.
When he pulled away, he looked wrecked.
“Go to bed, Ayesha,” he whispered. “Before I make this a lot harder for both of us.”
He walked away before she could answer.
Ayesha touched her lips. Her heart was racing.
6 months, she thought.
How were they supposed to survive 6 months like this?
---
*END OF CHAPTER 3*
- Writer
