When Fate Brought Us to Wuyun: Chapter

 

Chapter Two: Laila's Unfinished Painting

Thousands of miles away, in Lahore, Laila sat before an unfinished canvas.

The painting showed a woman standing beneath a stormy sky.

The woman's face was unfinished.

Laila had been staring at it for almost an hour.

She finally dipped her brush into dark blue paint.

Then stopped.

"Why can't I finish you?"

She whispered.

Perhaps because she knew exactly what the woman was feeling.

Laila had married Rashid at twenty-five.

It had been a love marriage.

She had believed that choosing each other would be enough.

She had been wrong.

After marriage, she moved into her husband's family home.

At first, she tried desperately to fit in.

She changed her routines.

Her clothes.

Her habits.

Even the way she spoke.

Every compromise was made with the same silent hope:

One day Rashid will notice.

Then their daughter was born.

Laila had looked into the tiny face and thought,

Now everything will be different.

Instead, the expectations became heavier.

Her mother-in-law complained that she was too soft with the baby.

Another relative said she was not managing the house properly.

Someone always had an opinion.

And Rashid?

He remained silent.

One night, after everyone had gone to bed, Laila finally confronted him.

"Why don't you ever say anything?"

Rashid looked confused.

"About what?"

"About me."

"What about you?"

Laila laughed bitterly.

"Exactly."

She walked away before he could answer.

That night, she looked at her sleeping daughter and made a decision.

She would start painting again.

Not because painting would solve everything.

But because she needed one part of herself that belonged only to her.

At thirty, she picked up the brush again.

And slowly, the woman inside the unfinished painting began to look like her.