"Qubool hai"

I closed my eyes at the finality of the two words, a tear slipping out of my heavily mascaraed eye, my heart constricting in my chest. It was done.

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"If you need anything beta, just let me know! I'm not a typical mother-in-law, I'm your friend... you can come up to me with anything, anything at all..."

I gave her a tightlipped smile, pushing down the lump in my throat, fingering the red coverlet under my oval-shaped fingernails.  "You look so pretty Bhaabi," Ayesha muttered, her small hands wrapped around the wooden bedpost, her eyes wide in awe.

"She really does, Salaar has some good taste, the dress looks wonderful on her..." If only she knew. "I don't know where he got this dress from, I kept asking him but that boy wouldn't let a single word out of his mouth."

"He bought it for his bride, I'm sure he spent a lot on it," my teeth sunk into my bottom lip to stop the giggle that was bound to escape my mouth. Salaar? Spending money? On me? Ha. That would truly be a first.

"Okay okay... I'm sure you're tired beta, we'll send in your groom," please, I think I'd go crazy if I had to smile one more time. Ayesha rushed out of the room, eyes wide, her steps filled with a new spring. Auntie fixed my dress, her hands fluttering over the spread-out material, coming to clasp mine. "I don't want to say this because this is a typical mother-in-law sentence but my son's happiness means a lot to me. After that girl..." her face twisted in disgust. "Anyway, that's in the past. I just want the two of you to be happy," guilt gnawed at me as I peered into her cautiously optimistic eyes.

"Oh, Abba told me you'd gone to bed..." I stared at the rose-covered side table, my face stained with red, not wanting to meet his eyes. He'd certainly taken his time.

"Couldn't wait to meet your wife? I know, I know... I'm leaving," the bed creaked from her weight as she walked away, patting his shoulder on the way. My eyes swept upward to see her pause in the doorway.

Salaar stood by her side, his form blurred by the dim lighting in the room. "Take care of my daughter Salaar, she's a rare one."

"Oh I know..." he muttered, his eyes narrowed as he turned to close the door behind her. "No need to remind me."

My mouth curved up into a smile. "Pot calling the kettle black?"

"Again, no need to remind me," I sat back, leaning against the headboard, trying to ease the backache. "Here," he muttered, tossing a pillow towards me, his gaze on the bunched fabric around my legs. Memories rushed in from all sides and I toyed with the material, smoothing it out, blinking the tears away, trying to forget. I could feel his gaze on me, the heaviness of his appraisal seeping through my skin, right into my bones. The last thing I wanted was his pity or his sympathy.

"I'm hungry. They wouldn't let me eat during the whole show and tell," my feet hit the cold mosaic floor with a dull thud and I gathered my clothing up in one hand, letting the heavily embellished dupatta ripple to the ground.

Salaar rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "There's some stuff in the fridge, want me to get it for you?"

"I'll get it. Where is the kitchen?"

"Wouldn't you want to change first?"

"You can go first," I answered, taking the artificial jewelry off and tossing it on the dressing table, watching how his eyes followed the movement. "Uh, the kitchen is on the ground floor? On the left?" He nodded, already on his way to the bathroom.

I slipped out of the room and headed into the hall, my eyes going over the decorations gently swaying in the wind. The modest three-bedroom house was decorated to the nines, the scent of marigolds wafting through the warm night air. Footsteps sounded towards the right and I plastered myself against the wall, trying to be inconspicuous.

Low tired voices bubbled towards me, filled with the satisfaction of an event successfully organized. Picking up my lengha, I tiptoed towards the kitchen, passing the tarnished mirror hung over the newly polished chestnut-colored chest of drawers.

"Do you think this one will last?" Uncle rumbled, locking the main doors with a noticeable click.

"It has to, Salaar made this decision on his own," Auntie answered with a loud sigh.

"Do you think he'll forget her now?"

"He has to. Rania's an intelligent girl, with a job, independent..."

Uncle snorted in amusement. "Her parents couldn't wait to get rid of her."

"Every parent wants to see their child get settled, we wanted that for ours," her footsteps leading her away from my hiding spot. He followed her to their room, closing the door gently behind them, their voices muffled by the barrier.

This was bound to happen. They were bound to feel that way. My family didn't leave them with any other choice. Shaking off those thoughts,  I moved out of the shadows, shuffling towards the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator, I pulled out the leftover biryani and ladled it onto my plate. It was still slightly warm so I decided to skip on heating it up in the microwave.

"Did you get lost?" Salaar asked stepping out of the bathroom as I bolted the door behind me. "Nevermind, it's not like we live in a palace. Isn't that cold?" he muttered pointing at my plate, throwing his towel on the floor.

I cringed at his action, plonking myself back on the bed. "It's fine."

"How are we doing this?"

"Doing what?" his eyes skittered over the bed and I glared at him. "I am not sharing."

"Fine, I'll take the couch. What's our plan for tomorrow?" Salaar picked up the pillow and carried it towards the low lying couch, his eyes fixed on the wall behind me. Empty.

"What do you mean?"

"Are we going to your parent's place?"

As if they cared. "Yeah, just drop me off in the morning."

"Wouldn't they ask to see me?" they would. They'd make a huge fuss, but I was beyond caring at this point.

I shrugged,"You're overthinking this."

"You're clearly not thinking at all."

"Excuse me?"

"This was your idea"

"And I've executed this perfectly, thank you very much."

"Rania."

"Salaar."

"Why did we get married?"

"Remind me."

He sighed, "Forget it. It's done now."

"If that's what you want."

"That's what I want," he confirmed, picking my now empty plate and I turned away to grab my clothes. I let out a relieved sigh as he left the room to give me some privacy, tears gathering at the corner of my eyes. This was what I wanted. This was what we had both wanted. It didn't matter what Auntie and Uncle thought or what my family wanted, it was done. We were bound together, for better or worse.

The night was deathly quiet. Eerie. Even the crickets had gone to sleep. My hand drifted towards my phone, checking the time. Not being able to sleep at night was so very painful—even worse in a completely new place. Somewhere, I heard the clock strike the hour and I stared at the ceiling. Perhaps first nights in new places were always spent sleeplessly like this. I tried once again to fall asleep, trying to ignore the enormity of what had happened. Images flitted across my mind like a bad movie trailer, horrifying, and traumatic and I squeezed my eyes shut trying to forget. After lying there motionless for a long time, I finally took the pill in my purse and drifted away, sleep taking me into her loving arms.

The room was completely dark, courtesy of the heavy curtains pulled across the large windows. What was that sound?

Someone was knocking on the door.

Turning to look at the wooden door, I peeped out from under the quilt, my mind still asleep.

Someone was trying to wake me up.

Wait. No. Waking us up.

My eyes popped open as he padded towards the door, hair tousled, face marked with pillow lines. Salaar wrenched the door open, rubbing his eyes, his body blocking me from whoever was on the other side.

"Ammi?"

"Beta, it's 10. I've made breakfast. I'm sure Rania's hungry? She didn't eat anything yesterday."

"Subah bakhair Ammi, we'll be down in a few minutes."

"Don't be late and Salaar, ask her to dress up a little? She's a bride, not even a day old. Ask her to wear what you got her," he got me something? Well that was a surprise. "You two should enjoy this time! After you're done with breakfast, take her to her parent's place."

He nodded and closed the door, leaning against the frame, his eyes on me. I sat up, making sure to pull up my quilt right up to my chin, meeting his gaze with a wary one of my own. "We've got our orders for today."

"It's only for today, we're free to do whatever from Monday."

"Are your plans confirmed?"

"I leave in the morning. You'll handle her?"

"Don't worry about it. You've done your part, it's my turn now."

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How are we feeling about this? How'd you find Salaar and Rania?

Let me know!