Apparently, most of you think I've robbed you, toh mera answer yeh hai ki...

Kaha se yeh cuddling stage ke dialogues lag rahe hain? 😶

As a writer Kya kya samjhana parhta hai, yaar.🙂 🔫

•••

"Tumhari haldi mein toh kisi ki himmat hui nahi thi tumhe haldi lagaye, aaj yeh himmat kisne karli?" Dawar jokingly remarked, noticing the haldi stain on Hayder's cheeks.

(In your wedding, no one had the courage to apply turmeric to you. Who mustered this courage today.)

"Meri biwi ke alawa aur kon kar sakta Hai yeh himmat," Hayder replied with a smile, taking Dawar by surprise, who hadn't expected Hyra's name in the banter.

(Who else can have this courage beside my wife?)

Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, Hayder tried to remove the paste, but it dried off, and Hayder found it difficult to remove haldi from the handkerchief.

Dawar's initial shock turned into a warm smile as he realized the depth of his friend and sister's happiness.

"Main face wash karke aya," Hayder excused himself, attempting to remove the dried haldi.

(I'll just come.)

Dawar chuckled, "Chalo, isko aqal toh ayi," and turned to walk to his friend. Just then, Laraib entered, causing Dawar's expression to harden momentarily. However, his mood lifted when he saw Nazish accompanying her. He walked to them.

(Okay, at least he got some sense.)

"Assalam-Alaikum, aunty," Dawar greeted Nazish warmly,

"Walekum-Assalam!" She responded with equal affection, placing her hand in his bowed head.

As they walked together, Nazish inquired if they were late. "Hum zyada late ho gaye kya?"

(Are we too late?)

"Rasm toh ho chuki hai, lekin mummy apka intezar kar rahi hain," Dawar informed her, focusing on the ongoing festivities. Despite his initial anger, he maintained composure.

(The ceremony is over, but Mom is waiting for you.)

"Tumhare uncle ki wajah se late ho gaye, koi zaroori meeting agayi unki. Fir maine socha main aur Laraib driver ke sath hi ajate hain."

(We got delayed because of your uncle; he had an important meeting. Then I thought Laraib and I should come together with the driver.)

Laraib followed silently. The air hung with unspoken tension, but both tried to navigate through the social event with a semblance of normalcy.

Dawar left them with Rabia. Not once did he spare any glance at Laraib.

•••

In the vibrant lounge adorned with marigold garlands, the lively rhythm of laughter and melodies filled the air. The room swayed with the energy of joyous women, singing and dancing in celebration.

Hyra was seated beside Kubra when Uswa came there.

"Kya yaha baithi rahogi? Chalo aao dance karte hain."

(Will you sit here? Come, let's dance.)

"Nahi nahi nahi!" Hyra quickly refused, shaking her head rapidly.

(No no no.)

But Kubra also pushed her. "Jao na."

(Go on.)

Hesitation marked Hyra's expression, yet the encouragement of the others compelled her to join.

"Achha theek hai." Tying her dupatta around her waist. She went to the middle of the lounge.

(Alright.)

As the beat intensified, she moved gracefully,

Sajnaa Ji Vaari Vaari Jaau Ji Mein...
Sajnaa Ji Vaari Vaari Jaau Ji Mein...
Tu Hi To Mera Sansaar Hai
Aisa Mera Pyaar Hai ..
Aisa Mera Pyaar Hai ..

Her every step synced with the rhythm of the music. Unbeknownst to her, Hayder stood on the periphery, captivated by the sight of his wife lost in the infectious joy of the celebration.

After washing his face, Hayder left his room quietly, avoiding the function happening in the lounge where only ladies were present now. All the gents have left for downstairs.

As he crossed the hallway, he unintentionally raised his head because he heard Hyra's name.

The room echoed with laughter and jubilation, and as Hyra danced, she embodied the spirit of the occasion, oblivious to the watchful gaze of her husband. The colours, the laughter, and the dance intertwined, creating a scene of pure jubilation and unity.

Charno Mein Jo Na Jagah Paau Ji main...
Charno Mein Jo Na Jagah Paau Ji main...
To Mera Jeena Hi Bekaar Hai
Aisa Mera Pyaar Hai...
Aisa Mera Pyaar Hai...

Initially captivated by her graceful movements, a wave of discomfort washed over Hayder, and he clenched his fist, disliking what he saw.

No male guests were present, only close family members, and no photographers were hired for today's function. After the haldi rituals concluded, the men descended to the lawn, but some still made their way upstairs with excuses. Hayder's eyes caught a guy looking at Hyra.

Hayder felt a knot tightening in his stomach as he observed the stranger's lingering gaze on Hyra. The rhythmic beats of the music continued, but tension filled the air.

With a stern expression, he approached the guy. "Excuse me! Mardo ka intezam niche hai, yaha sirf ladies hain."

(The arrangement for men is downstairs; only ladies are here.)

The intruding guest, caught off guard, became embarrassed. "I'm sorry, main bas mummy ko dhoondne aya tha."

(I'm sorry; I just came to find Mom.)

"Tumhari mummy yaha kho toh nahi jayengi. Phone haina, niche jao aur unhe call karlo." Hayder's voice was stern, scaring the guy, who quickly left.

(Your mom won't get lost here. You have your phone; go downstairs and call her.)

Hayder's eyes followed him until he descended the stairs. Then, he looked back at Hyra. Uswa had dragged Kubra too now, but Kubra wasn't dancing, she was standing in the middle, clapping happily, appreciating Hyra and Uswa.

Hayder noticed a girl standing nearby. He called her. "Unhe bula do," he pointed at Hyra and asked the girl, who nodded and went to call Hyra.

(Call her.)

Hyra looked in his direction, where he nodded and left.

"Main abhi ayi," Hyra excused herself to Uswa and quickly departed.

(I'll just come.)

•••

Hayder sat on the edge of his bed, the soft sounds of the haldi celebration drifting through the closed door. As he waited, he couldn't shake the image of someone looking at Hyra from his mind. The delicate balance between the beauty of the moment and the unease within him lingered in the air.

The door creaked open, and Hyra entered the room, her vibrant haldi-stained dress contrasting with the sombre expression on Hayder's face.

"Kya hua?" Hyra's eyes questioned.

(What happened?)

"Tum bahar dance nahi karogi." He stood up and ordered.

(You won't dance outside.)

Hyra's eyes widened in shock. "Ji?" She wasn't expecting this.

(What?)

"Sunai nahi diya? Tum dance nahi karogi."

(Didn't you hear? You won't dance.)

"Kyu? Uswa bhi toh kar rahi hai." Clicking her fingers, Hyra asked, not understanding why he is refusing her.

(Why? Even Uswa is dancing.)

"Toh Uswa ko konsa maine 10 marks de diye dance ke." Frustratedly, Hayder groaned. Hyra's every sentence and action seemed incomplete without Uswa.

(So, did I give Uswa 10 marks for the dance?)

"Main Uswa ko kisi cheez ke liye mana nahi kar sakta. Woh sirf cousin hai meri. Tum meri biwi ho, tum pe mera pura haq hai aur mujhe nahi pasand meri biwi ka yun dance karna."

(I can't stop Uswa from doing anything. She's just my cousin. You're my wife; I have complete rights over you, and I don't like my wife dancing like this.)

"Theek hai. Aur kuch?" Looking down, Hyra asked. She was clearly upset.

(Okay. Anything else?)

Sighing, Hayder walked to her, holding her chin, making her look at him. "Dekho, Hyra, shadi ka ghar hai, bhale se alag alag intizam hai gents aur ladies ka lekin fir bhi kon kab uppar ajaye pata nahi. Achha nahi lagta yeh sab. Mehman chale jayenge toh tumhe jitna dance karna hoga tum kar lena. Abhi nahi." His voice softened, afraid she might cry if he was too stern.

(Look, Hyra, it's a wedding house; there are separate arrangements for men and ladies, but still, who knows when someone might come upstairs. I don't like all this. When the guests leave, you can dance as much as you want. Not now.)

Hyra didn't say anything, looking down again.

Hayder wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into a hug. "Achha jitna dil kare tum dance karlo. Main bahar darwaze pe kharha rehta hoon ki koi na aye lounge mein. Lekin fir tum shikayat na karna ki log mujhe joru ka ghulam bulate hain."

(Alright, dance as much as you want. I'll be standing outside the door, making sure no one enters the lounge. But then don't complain that people call me a devoted husband.)

"Kya?" Hyra pulled away from the hug, looking at him seriously, thinking he was serious. His dimpled smile made her realize he was joking.

(What?)

"Koi zaroorat nahi hai. Main nahi karungi dance." Pushing his arm away, Hyra told him..

(No need for that. I won't dance.)

"Yeh ki na achhi biwiyo wali baat." Hayder tapped her forehead.

(That's what good wives do.)

"Aur achhe shohar kya karte hain?" Rolling her eyes, Hyra asked.

(And what do good husbands do?)

"Apni biwi ki izzat ki hifazat." Without missing a beat, Hayder answered. His expression was soft as he looked at her.

(Protect their wives' honor.)

Hyra wasn't expecting this, but he always acted in an unexpected way.

"Main... main ja rahi hoon, bahar sab pata nahi kya soch rahe honge." Blushing, she stammered an excuse.

(I... I'm leaving. I don't know what everyone must be thinking outside.)

As Hyra turned to leave, the anticipation of the gathering outside tugging at her, she reached the doorway. However, a subtle force drew her back. She returns to Hayder, The soft tinkling of her anklets accompanied each step, creating an enchanting melody in the room. Standing on her toes, Hyra delicately approached Hayder. With a gentle touch, she planted a fleeting kiss below his cheek, a silent expression of affection that spoke louder than words. Without uttering another syllable, she hurriedly left, leaving a trace of sweet warmth in the room.

•••

In the midst of vibrant haldi ceremony, Sami juggled a food plate while crooning a lively song. "Jhoome jo pathan, meri jaan..."

As he made his way to his seat, a tune echoed from his pocket. Perplexed, Sami fished out the phone, realising it's Kubra's phone, which she had entrusted him with for capturing moments.

"Hello!" Sami answered the call.

"Kon bol raha hai?" A voice on the other end inquired.

(Who's speaking?)

"Main sami, Aap kon bol rahe hain?" Sami, equally bewildered, fired back with the same question, prompting a standoff.

(I'm Sami. Who are you?)

"Oh, chotu tum." The man from other side said with a tone of relief.

(Oh, kiddo, it's you.)

"Excuse me, main chotu nahi, aur aap kon." This unwittingly irked Sami.

(Excuse me, I'm not kiddo, and who are you?)

"Sarim bol raha hoon." Finally, the man revealed his identity.

(I am Sarim.)

This revelation hit Sami like a ton of bricks. Caught off guard, Sami bit his tongue, "Sarim bhai, Assalam-Alaikum!" His tone become respectful.

"Walekum-Assalam, Kubra kaha hai?"

(Where is Kubra?)

"Humare yaha shadi se pehle larka larki baat nahi karte." Instead of answering Sarim's question, Sami warned him.

(In our family, groom and bride aren't allowed to talk before the wedding.)

So what he is young, he is a boy with pride.

"What?" Sarim was shocked.

•••

"Laraib ki taraf se main maafi mangti hoon, darasal, thori jazbati hai..." With embarrassed look, Nazish apologise to Rabia.

(I apologize on behalf of Laraib; actually, she's a bit emotional...)

"Bhabhi, aap maafi na mange, miya biwi mein chote mote jhagre hote rehte hain." With a calm demeanour, Rabia waved it off.

(Bhabhi, please don't apologize; there are small arguments between husband and wife.)

"Haan lekin, Laraib, tumhe ghar nahi chorhna chahiye." But Rabia advices to Laraib, who didn't say anything.

(But Laraib, you shouldn't leave the house.)

"Maine bhi issey samjhaya. Laraib bhi sharminda hai unse jo kiya." Nazish nodded.

(I also explained this to her. Laraib is also regretful for what she did.)

Dawar looked at Laraib, her posture conveyed her reluctance, and this frustrated Dawar, he couldn't contain his anger. Before he could say anything disrespectful, he thought of better to leave.

Leaving an uneasy atmosphere behind.

Laraib wanted to leave too, but stayed back. Listening to her mother coax Rabia, and suggesting Laraib should live here until the marriage function.

"Ab aap mujhe sharminda kar rahi hain. Yeh ghar bhi toh Laraib ka hai." Rabia smiled at Laraib. Rabia wanted Laraib to live here until the delivery.

(Now you are embarrassing me, this is Laraib's home too.)

•••

Tired from the haldi event, Hyra tied her hair in a loose bun and reached for her nightdress in the cupboard when Hayder silently approached her, gently undoing her hair.

She turned, exasperated, "kya hai?"

(What's the matter?)

Hayder smiled, taking her clothes and placing them back in the cupboard. He held her hand, leading her to the centre of the room.

"Kya hua?" Puzzled, Hyra asked again.

(What happened?)

"Maine kaha tha na function end hone ke baad tumhara jitna dil karega tum dance kar lena." Hayder reminded her, this further confused Hyra.

(I told you, after the function ends, dance as much as you want.)

He played a soft song in his phone.

Hmm.. hmm...
Dehleez pe mere dil ki
Jo rakhe hain tune kadam
Tere naam pe meri zindagi
Likh di mere humdum

Placing her hand on his shoulder, delicately moving to the tune.

"Apko dance ata hai?" In shock, Hyra asked.

(You know how to dance?)

"Abhi tum mere barey mein bohot kuch nahi janti. Gusse se agey dekhogi toh janogi na."

(You don't know much about me yet. You never see beyond anger.)

"Gusse ke alawa apne kuch dikhaya bhi toh nahi." Hyra mumbled.

(You haven't shown anything else apart from anger.)

"Kya kaha tumne?" Hayder narrowed his eyes, making Hyra quickly shook her head.

(What did you say?)

Haan seekha maine jeena jeena kaise jeena
Haan seekha maine jeena mere humdum
Na seekha kabhi jeena jeena kaise jeena
Na seekha jeena tere bina humdum

A sudden flashback crossed Hyra's mind, transporting her to a cozy conversation with Uswa. In the memory, they delved into speculations about the potential husbands for Mirza men. Dawar was envisioned as a caring spouse, while Shahzaib as fun loving. However, when Rafey's name was mention, Uswa swiftly changed the topic.

"Waise Hayder bhai kaise husband honge?" Uswa's curiosity sparked.

(What kind of a husband Hayder bhai will be?)

"Hayder bhai ki bhi shadi hogi?" Hyra queried, as if contemplating this was the most unusual thing.

(Will Hayder bhai also get married?)

"Honi toh chahiye. Bechare kya zindagi bhar kuware rahenge?" Uswa mused.

(He should. Poor guy, will he stay unmarried all his life?)

Reflecting deeply, Hyra opined, "Mujhe toh lagta hai woh apni biwi ko bhi bohot datenge... humare liye better rahega, kam se kam hum unki nazar mein nahi rahenge phir."

(I think he'll scold his wife a lot... it would be better for us, at least we won't be in his eyes then.)

Uswa chuckled, "Unka romance bhi daatna hi hoga."

(His romance will be scolding too.)

Hyra joined the laughter, but then, after a brief silence, cringed her nose, and said, "Main Hayder bhai ko romance karte hue nahi soch sakti." Uswa burst into even harder laughter.

(I cannot imagine Hayder bhai being romantic.)

"Yaar, woh sakht coconut exterior ke andar soft part bhi hoga." Uswa said.

(There might be a soft part inside that tough coconut exterior.)

As the flashback waned, Hayder, sensing Hyra lost in thought, inquired, "Kya soch rahi ho?"

(What are you thinking?)

Quickly, Hyra shook her head. "Kuch nahi."

(Nothing.)

Seeking solace, she nestled in his arms, resting her head on his chest. In that moment, she realized her assumptions about Hayder were wrong; beneath his anger, he was a remarkably loving person. If one looks beyond his anger, Hayder is a loving person-a person who deserves love.

•••

In Kubra's room, the air buzzed with excitement as wedding preparations unfolded. Zara sat beside her, helping sort through clothes for tomorrow's function.

"Tum khush ho?" Zara asked to Kubra.

(Are you happy?)

Shyly, Kubra nods her head. "Bohot."

(Very much.)

"Masha'Allah!" Zara quickly said, even Zara have noticed Kubra's glowing face, and it was all because of Sarim Randhawa.

"Allah tumhe hamesha khush rakhe." Zara prayed for her.

(May Allah always keep you happy.)

With a twinkle in her eyes, Kubra leaned in, almost bursting with a secret, "Waise pata hai... maine Hayder bhai aur baba ki baatein suni thi. Bohot jald baba tumhare rishte ki baat karenge fuppi se."

(By the way, you know... I heard Hayder bhai and baba conversation. Baba will talk to Aunt soon for your proposal.)

Zara's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of shock and confusion crossing her face. "Kya? Kyu?" Her tone betrayed an unexpected unease.

(What? Why?)

Kubra, taken aback by Zara's unexpected reaction, asked, "Kya matlab hai kyu?"

(What do you mean why?)

Zara took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, "Nahi bas, yeh... kafi unexpected tha, I mean..."

(No, it's just... this was quite unexpected, I mean...)

Kubra was confused, "Zara, ab toh tumhare papers ho gaye na? Ab kya unexpected hai?"

(Come on, your exams are done now, right? What's unexpected now?)

"Nahi bas... woh...." Zara looked away from Kubra, not knowing what to say. One day, the truth will be out, but Zara doesn't have the courage to be the one who told Kubra the truth.

(No, but... that...)

Zara managed a weak smile, "Main yaha tumhari shadi enjoy karne ayi hoon, mujhe abhi inn sab jhanjhat mein na dalo."

(I'm here to enjoy your wedding; don't involve me in all these problems.)

"Mere bhai se shadi karna jhanjhat hai tumhare liye?" Kubra mocked anger and asked.

(Is marrying my brother a problem for you?)

Zara, feeling the weight of her unspoken truth, replied with a forced laugh, "chorho na, kin baaton mein parh gayi. Waise tumhari saas kitna pyara lehenga layi hain." She points at the gifts which Azma Randhawa brought today.

(Forget it. By the way, your mother-in-law has chosen a beautiful lehenga.)

Kubra, sensing something amiss, decided not to press further. "Aunty ki choice kafi achhi hai."

(Aunty has a good taste.)

"Aur aunty ke bete ki?" Zara teased. This made Kubra blush.

(And what about Aunty's son?)

As the two continued with the wedding preparations, a lingering tension remained in the air, the unspoken truths waiting for the right moment to surface.

"Kya tum abhi bhi Rafey ke barey mein sochti ho?" Zara, who was putting the accessories away, her eyes fall on the ring in her finger, suddenly asked.

(Do you still think about Rafey?)

"Rafey?" Kubra paused, surprised by the sudden mention of Rafey. Just as she was about to respond, Sami entered the room, holding Kubra's phone.

"Kubra api, apka phone, mere paas tha," Sami informed, extending the phone toward Kubra.

(Kubra api, your phone was with me.)

"Thanks, Sami," Kubra acknowledged, taking the phone and placing it on the side table, dismissing him.

Once Sami left, Kubra turned back to Zara with a curious expression. "Tum achanak se Rafey ke barey mein kyu puch rahi ho?"

(Why are you suddenly asking about Rafey?)

"Nahi bas... aise hi... I mean; tum pasand karti thi na Rafey ko. Kitna asan tha usko bhoolke Sarim ke liye haan kehna?"

(No, just like that... I mean, you liked Rafey, right? How easy it was for you to forget Rafey and say yes to Sarim?)

Zara's sentence made Kubra's heart skipped a beat.

Kubra hesitated for a moment, then said. "Asan nahi tha. Tum toh janti ho Rafey mera ideal tha. Mujhe jo bhi khoobiyan apne partner mein chahiye thi woh sab Rafey mein thi aur..."

(It wasn't easy. You know Rafey was my ideal. All the qualities I wanted in a partner were in Rafey, and...)

"Kya tum abhi bhi Rafey se mohabbat karti ho?"

(Do you still love Rafey?)

"Nahi! Nahi, Zara. Aisa mat bolo." Quickly, Kubra refused.

(No! No, Zara. Don't say that.)

Kubra's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions. She sighed, "Rafey ke liye main jo bhi mehsoos karti thi, jo bhi meri feelings thi, woh sab sirf waqti jazbaat the aur kuch nahi. Sarim mera haal hai, future hai."

(Whatever feelings I had for Rafey, they were just temporary sentiments and nothing more. Sarim is my present and future.)

"Pata hai, Zara, jabse meri engagement hui hai Sarim se, tabse mere zehen mein ek baar bhi Rafey ka khayal nahi aya. Sarim hain hi aise, apni baaton se itna safe aur comfortable feel karwate hain. Mujhe toh yakeen hi nahi hota main itni lucky kaise ho gayi."

(You know, Zara, since my engagement with Sarim, Rafey's thought hasn't crossed my mind even once. Sarim is like that, making me feel so safe and comfortable with his words. I can't believe how lucky I am.)

Zara, sensing the depth of Kubra's emotions, softened her tone. "I'm sorry, Kubra, mera maksad tumhe hurt karne ka nahi tha, main toh bas..."

(I'm sorry, Kubra, I didn't mean to hurt you; I was just...)

"Chorho," Kubra smiled at Zara, "Achha tum kal kya pehen rahi ho?"

(Forget it.)

(So, what are you wearing tomorrow?)

The two friends continued with the wedding preparations, leaving the ghosts of the past behind, focusing on the joyous celebration that awaited them.

•••

Dawar entered the room, his footsteps echoing in the quiet space. Laraib, sitting on the bed, glanced up as he walked in. Her attempt to speak faltered, and she nervously closed her lips, watching him move towards the bed.

Without making eye contact, Dawar picked up a pillow, his movements deliberate. The room seemed heavy with unspoken words. Laraib stood up, wanting to say something, but she hesitated as Dawar headed towards the door.

As he reached for the doorknob, Laraib couldn't hold back any longer. Her voice trembled as she asked, "Kaha ja rahe hain aap?"

(Where are you going?)

Dawar turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. "Tumhe akele rehna pasand haina, Laraib. Main bas yehi kar raha hoon."

(You like being alone, right, Laraib? I'm just doing the same.)

He opened the door, and before Laraib could respond, he left, leaving behind a silence that echoed her unspoken feelings. Tears welled up in Laraib's eyes as she stood alone in the room, grappling with the weight of their strained marriage.

•••

Sarim stood in his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. The weight of Kubra's words lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the joyous wedding preparations. His heart pounded, and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he tried to comprehend what he had just overheard.

The words echoed in his mind. "Rafey mera ideal tha. Mujhe jo bhi khoobiyan apne partner mein chahiye thi woh sab Rafey mein thi."

(Rafey was my ideal. All the qualities I wanted in a partner were in Rafey.)

Kubra liked Rafey. That simple revelation struck him like a sudden storm, leaving him disoriented and hurt. He had always believed in the purity of their connection, in the happiness they found in each other's company. Now, doubt crept in, overshadowing the assurance he once felt.

Sarim replayed the conversation in his mind, desperately searching for any indication of Kubra's feelings towards him. His mother's arrival had disrupted the call, leaving him with an incomplete understanding of the situation. Was Kubra not happy with him? Did she still have feelings for Rafey?

•••

The next day dawned with a vibrant atmosphere at the Mirza residence. The lawn adorned with colorful drapes and marigold flowers, echoing laughter and joy as preparations for Kubra's mehendi ceremony were in full swing. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of henna as women gathered around, applying intricate designs on their hands.

Gori ke hatho me mehandi lagao
Ubtan se ang ang mehkao
Chanda jaise mathe pe jhumar sajao
Hirowale motiwale kangana pehnao

Kubra, dressed in a stunning green lehenga, sat at the center of the festivities. Her hands were adorned with intricate mehendi patterns, symbolizing the love and happiness that surrounded her. The women in the family danced and sang traditional songs, celebrating the upcoming union.

Hyra, too, joined in the festivities, her heart lighter than before. She wore a cheerful expression as she applied mehendi on her own hands, the design reflecting the newfound happiness in her life.

As the day unfolded, the mehendi ceremony continued without any unexpected events. The Mirza family and their guests reveled in the joyous occasion, sharing laughter and creating beautiful memories.

Later in the evening, after the mehendi ceremony had concluded, the Mirza residence settled into a quieter atmosphere. Hyra, her hands adorned with mehendi, which she have just washed, approached Hayder when they were in their room.

"Kya aap apna naam dhoond sakte hain?" With a playful smile, she asked, extending her hands towards him.

(Can you find your name?)

Hayder, who was checking something on his phone, looked at her with smile, and put his phone away, taking her hands gently and examined the intricate patterns. He traced the lines of mehendi, his fingers moving delicately over her palm. Hyra watched him with a soft smile.

After a thoughtful pause, Hayder identified the carefully hidden letters forming his initial. "Mil gaya," he said, a victory smile playing on his lips.

(Found it.)

"Itni jaldi?" Hyra was shocked he found it so easily.

(So quickly?)

"Mera naam haina, tumhare hatho mein milna toh tha hi."

(My name was meant to be in your hands.)

•••

The wedding day arrived. Colors of celebration adorned every corner, but the focus was on Kubra, resplendent in a breathtaking red lehenga. The intricate gold embroidery and sequins shimmered, adding to the ethereal beauty of the bride. Her jewelry, a mix of traditional and modern, complemented the regality of her attire. Kubra's eyes sparkled with happiness, her bridal look a perfect reflection of the joyous occasion.

As the nikkah ceremony unfolded. The applause and cheers from the gathered family and friends filled the air.

However, as the newlyweds sat together, Sarim's mind wandered to a conversation he had accidentally overheard. Kubra's words on the phone lingered in his thoughts, creating an internal struggle that clouded the joy of the moment. He put on a smile, but underneath, a sense of suffocation gnawed at him.

The rukhsati ceremony approached, and Kubra, now Sarim's wife, tearfully embraced Hayder, who was trying to be strong, held back his tears, but his eyes conveyed the depth of emotion.

"Ro mat." Kissing her head, Hayder told her in low voice.

(Don't cry.)

"Aise mat ro, make up kharab ho jayega toh Sarim kya sochega... chudail?" Shahzaib attempted to lighten the mood.

(Don't cry like this; your makeup will get ruined. What will Sarim think... witch?)

In the midst of tears, Kubra managed to laugh, giving a tight hug to Shahzaib, who, to everyone's surprise, broke down like a baby. Hugging her tightly.

As Kubra bid farewell to her family, the atmosphere was a mix of joy and sorrow. Sarim, however, grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the happiness of the occasion and the weight of the conversation that lingered in his mind. The wedding celebrations continued, but for Sarim, the journey into married life felt like stepping into uncharted territory, clouded by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

•••

"Aaj tum humare sath hi baitho, uske baad toh tumhe fursat milegi nahi." At Sarim's home, his friends and cousins playfully pulled his leg, not letting him go to his room. While Sarim wanted to go to his room as soon as possible, he wanted to talk to Kubra about what he heard the day before yesterday.

(Today, sit with us, and then you won't get any free time afterward.)

Eventually, Azma Randhawa intervened, dispersing the teasing crowd to their rooms.

With a sigh of relief, Sarim went to his room, eager to talk to Kubra. However, as he entered, he found her peacefully sleeping in her bridal attire. Disappointment clouded his expression.

Sarim sighed, the weight of conflicting emotions pressing upon him. He stood near the bed, gazing at Kubra's peaceful slumber, her bridal attire casting a delicate glow around her. The room echoed with the hushed quietness of the night.

He debated whether to wake her, to have the conversation that gnawed at him, or to let her rest. As he contemplated, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Sarim decided to wait, not wanting to disturb Kubra's sleep. He settled into a chair.

As the night wore on, Sarim watched over Kubra. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on her face. He couldn't help but admire the grace with which she slept, seemingly untouched by the turmoil within him.

In the quiet of the room, Sarim's mind revisited the past – the school days, Kubra had always been his crush, which soon turned into love, and the prayers that led Kubra into his life. However, the echo of her words about Rafey being her ideal resonated in his thoughts, clouding the euphoria of the moment.

As the night deepened, Sarim was caught between the joy of having her in his room as his wife and the weight of her past words.

•••

I don't wanna drag this story much, I wanted to end this in 30 chapters, lekin nahi hua, but still, I wanna complete this story in less chapters, that's why sab kuch jaldi jaldi ho raha hai.

-Ufaq