VivaPines was tucked away in Lower Jhika Gali—AirBnB-style apartments ranging from one-bedroom to three-bedroom units. When I reached there, a strange mixture of shock and disbelief washed over me. Too quickly? This soon? How?
What strange creatures human beings are: we complain when things go against us, yet when something finally falls in our favor, we stand stunned—unsure whether to accept it or question it. I was both happy and confused, caught between excitement and a nameless fear. I didn’t know how to react.
The challenge wasn’t reaching VivaPines—it was dealing with Talha. If I went with him, how on earth would I excuse myself once we arrived? At first, I planned to slip away from GPO and vanish quietly. But guilt pricked my conscience. Talha could be frustrating, yes, but he had a golden heart. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that.
As we walked out of the PC Bhurban premises searching for a cab, I mustered all the confidence I could and told him, straight-faced, “I have some very important work in Murree. You’ll have to return to PC alone.”
His face tightened with irritation. I could see the storm in his expression. But after a few moments—just like always—he sighed and agreed.
We headed toward Murree, the sun already dipping behind the mountains. In these heights, daylight dies early. The old yellow taxi we found rattled more loudly than it moved, its engine groaning as if it were dragging the entire valley behind it. A freezing breeze slipped through the broken edge of the left window, brushing my face—but even that cold sting wasn’t enough to cool the warmth pulsing in my chest.
A warmth that came from anticipation. From fear. From hope.
From the card in my pocket.