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Sufiyaan, that idiot, had given me the most impossible dare. Of all the things he could have asked for, he'd decided on this: kiss her anywhere in front of everyone, ask her to write her name on my palm, and compliment her.
It sounded simple in theory, but the idea of doing it with all eyes on us made my palms sweat. Alone, it wouldn't have been an issueâI could have easily done it. But in front of everyone?
I dragged my gaze across the hall, searching for her, and my eyes finally landed on her. She was seated on the floor with a cushion placed around her, laughing at something Dadi was saying to her.
The sound of her laughter reached me faintly, melodious and carefree. Her hands were busy, one extended out to the mehendi artist while two others worked meticulously on her feet.
The golden anklets around her ankles shimmered in the light, complementing her delicate frame. She looked... radiant.
"Duniya ki sabse haseen larki," I murmured to myself, the words slipping out before I could stop them. My feet moved of their own accord, pulling me toward her like I was caught in some invisible pull.
My eyes refused to leave her. Her hair, slightly disheveled by the breeze from the fan, kept falling into her face.
She kept tucking it back behind her ear, the repetitive motion somehow entrancing. The soft glow of her makeup accentuated her features perfectly, and the gold nose ring she wore caught the light, shining subtly. It suited her so well, adding an extra allure to her beauty.
But it wasn't just the makeup or the jewelryâit was her. The ease with which she blended into the chaos around her, the warmth in her smile, and the way she carried herself.
And there I was, standing frozen, stuck between admiration and sheer nervousness, wondering how on earth I was supposed to go through with this dare.
I clenched my fists, shaking off the hesitation. Just do it, Hayaan. It's now or never.
"Mein beth jaun idhar?" I asked softly, my voice almost hesitant. She snapped her head toward me, clearly surprised by my sudden approach.
The other women, including Dadi, turned to look at me as well, but I didn't bother acknowledging them. My focus was solely on her.
Before she could respond, Dadi chuckled mischievously. "Areh, beth ja, puttar. Teri hi biwi hai," she teased, grabbing my wrist and pulling me down beside her.
I sat down next to Aairah, who immediately stiffened at the sudden closeness. Her posture grew rigid, and she avoided looking directly at me, her gaze flickering awkwardly toward the mehendi artist working on her hand.
I could feel the faint tension between us, but I stayed quiet for a moment, watching as the intricate patterns of mehendi swirled across her hand. Her henna-darkened fingers were trembling slightly, though she tried her best to appear composed.
Dadi's eyes twinkled as she watched us from the corner of her gaze, clearly enjoying whatever she thought was happening between us.
"Ap yahan kya kar rahe hain?" she whispered, turning slightly to face me, her voice low and cautious.
I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I lifted my hand and gently tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes widened in surprise at the gesture, and for a moment, she seemed completely caught off guard.
"Aap bahut khoobsurat lag rahi hain, Aairah," I told her softly, my voice steadyâneither too loud nor too low. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to respond but couldn't find the words.
Without thinking much, I slowly placed my hand on the nape of her neck, my thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. The softness of her skin under my touch sent a spark through me, but what really held me captive was the way she gasped softly, her wide, expressive eyes locked onto mine in utter shock.
"Hayaan?" She whispered startled, makingmy heart skip the beat but I didn't said anything, stare at her, she wandered her eyes around.
I felt the weight of everyone's stares around us, the murmur of whispers growing louder. My nerves started to spike, but when I glanced at my grandmother, her smile reassured me.
Dadi's eyes were twinkling with a mix of amusement and surprise, as though she'd been waiting for this moment all along.
I turned my gaze back to Aairah. Her eyes fluttered like a doll's, her expressions shifting between confusion, nervousness, and something else I couldn't quite place. I got so lost in her eyes that, for a brief moment, I forgot the crowd around us. Everything else blurred awayâthere was only her.
I leaned closer, and she immediately glanced around nervously. "Hayaan, sab dekh rahe hain," she whispered, her voice shaky and her cheeks turning a deep shade of scarlet.
Her flustered state made me smile, and I replied softly, "Toh dekhne do."
"Sab kya sochenge?" She asked in whisper.
"Yehi hai ek shohar apni Begum ko nihaar raha hai" I responded , She raised her brows, slightly amused and unsure.
I leaned even closer, my resolve solid. Ignoring the curious and shocked stares. I pressed my lips to her forehead, the touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
She shut her eyes tightly, and her fingers gripped my collar like a lifeline. I felt my heart skip a beat, a strange but comforting warmth spreading through me.
My lips rested there for a few seconds and When I moved back, expecting her to release me, she didn't. Instead, she pulled me closer, hiding her face in my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
I froze, a shiver running down my spine as I clenched my fist to keep myself composed. My heart was racing now, and I wasn't sure if it was from her closeness or the reality of so many people watching us.
I glanced around, catching sight of everyone's stunned faces. Most of the guests were staring in disbelief, their conversations momentarily forgotten.
My eyes landed on Sufiyaan, who looked as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His jaw hung open slightly, and his expression was pricelessâequal parts shock and annoyance.
But none of it mattered. At that moment, all I cared about was the girl in my arms, clinging to me like I was her anchor in a storm. And for the first time, I felt like I didn't want to let go.
Zeeshan was about to whistle, and I shot him a warning look, silently asking him to handle the situation. He caught on quickly, straightened up, and threw an awkward smile toward the giggling and whispering ladies nearby.
"Dulha main hoon idhar, mujhe bhi notice kar lo!" Zeeshan shouted, expertly diverting everyone's attention to himself.
The room erupted in laughter as people turned toward him, thankfully easing the weight of the stares on me and Aairah.
Chalo, kuch kaam ka toh hai, I thought, giving him a grateful nod.
I leaned in slightly, my voice low and soft as I whispered, "Begum?" I tried to move back, give her space, but she surprised me by pulling me closer again.
My heart skipped a beat as I hesitated for a moment before sliding my arm around her back, my fingers brushing gently against her hair.
"Hayaan, mujhe bohot sharam aa rahi hai," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her face flushed red like a ripe cherry.
"Main kaise sabko face karungi ab?" she asked, biting her lips nervously, her wide, innocent eyes staring up at me.
The sight of her so flustered and adorable made it incredibly difficult to resist the urge to kiss her again. But I knew betterâshe was already embarrassed, and I didn't want to push her further or cause a scene.
Slowly, I moved back, gently coaxing her fingers to release my collar. Her hands were trembling, and I instinctively held one of them, my thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin.
"Apko kisi ko bhi face karne ki zaroorat nahi hai," I reassured her in a low voice. "Aur main yahin baitha rahunga jab tak ap chahengi, theek hai?" My tone was calm, steady, meant to comfort her. She took a shaky breath and nodded, her lips curling into a shy smile as she tightened her grip on my hand.
Then, a thought struck me. Smiling mischievously, I held out my palm toward her.
"Main chahta hoon ke aap bhi apna naam mere haath pe likhein," I said, the request laced with playful seriousness. She blinked at me in surprise, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
"Hayaan, apki tabiyat toh theek hai na? Ab bohot ajeeb cheezein kar rahe hain," she remarked, frowning slightly.
I couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. Running a hand through my hair, I teased.
"Ajeeb kya hai isme? Jab ap apne haath pe mera naam likhwa sakti hain, toh main kyun nahi?"
What had started as a silly dare now felt like something I genuinely wanted. There was a strange satisfaction in the idea of carrying her name on my palm, a small yet significant symbol of her presence in my life.
Dadi chimed in enthusiastically, backing me up. "Sahi keh raha hai woh! Chal, likh de naam, meri lado," she said, handing Aairah the mehendi cone.
Aairah hesitated, still looking unsure, but I gave her a small, encouraging smile and blinked at her reassuringly. Slowly, a shy but excited smile crept onto her face. She took the cone, holding it delicately between her fingers.
Carefully, with intense concentration, she began to write her name in Urdu on the center of my palm. Her brows furrowed slightly in focus, her lips pursed as she made sure every stroke was perfect.
I didn't even glance at the design. My eyes were fixed on her, completely absorbed in the way her face lit up with quiet determination, the way her lashes fluttered every time she glanced at me nervously. In that moment, nothing else matteredâjust her.
And as she finished, her name written beautifully on my palm, I realized something that both excited and terrified me: I wasn't just doing this because of a dare anymore. I wanted this, and I wanted her.
"Bhabhi, make a heart too!" Zeeshan shouted from behind, causing Aairah to jump in surprise for a moment.
But after a brief hesitation, she turned to him and nodded, as if accepting the playful challenge. I turned my head to glare at him, and I saw the mischievous smile plastered on his face.
"Bhai, ap itne romantic thay, mujh tou aj pata chala," Zeeshan teased, his tone playful as he mockingly admired my 'romantic side.'
"Mujh band kar, or dafa ho idhar se, je teri mehendi hai na," I warned, my eyes narrowing at him. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, though, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
"Han, magar sari limelight tou apne le li," Zeeshan shot back, laughing, completely unfazed by my glare. I clenched my jaw but didn't respond, knowing well he wouldn't take me seriously.
I turned my attention back to Aairah, who was still sitting there, her hand slowly drying as she looked a little weary.
Hala and Sufiyaan had joined us now, with Sufiyaan sitting beside her. He seemed to be doing his job, talking to her while she continued dealing with the mehendi artists.
Aairah's face looked tired, the heavy jewelry starting to weigh on her, and I noticed her removing her earrings. She let out a soft breath of relief before looking around for a place to put them.
I didn't hesitate. Reaching out, I offered my palm to her. She looked at me in surprise, clearly unsure of what I was doing, but after a moment, she handed me her earrings. Without a word, I gently placed them in my pocket.
She smiled, a small but grateful gesture, and I could feel the warmth of her appreciation even in that simple action. I couldn't help but rub my neck, suddenly feeling nervous under her gaze.
"Bhai, apki bari hai, bolo ab," Zeeshan's overly dramatic whisper broke through my thoughts as he jabbed me in the shoulder. His constant teasing was nothing new, but tonight, his persistence was particularly irritating.
I elbowed him hard in the stomach, earning a hiss of pain, which only made him laugh even louder.
Typical Zeeshan. Never knows when to back off.
I caught Aairah bhabhi chuckling softly at our antics, and Hayaan bhai staring at her, but my focus quickly shifted back to Hala.
She was sitting just a few feet away, her hands adorned with fresh mehendi, the intricate designs making her movements all the more mesmerizing. Her smileâsmall, effortlessâhad this strange way of making my chest tighten, like I couldn't breathe properly.
"Hala, I need to talk to you," I blurted out, my voice betraying the nerves that had been building up all evening. Why did I feel like I was about to face an interrogation?
Both Zeeshan and Hayaan bhai exchanged glances, clearly amused. Great. Just what I neededâan audience.
Hala turned to me, her expression unreadable except for the slight tilt of her eyebrow.
"Haan tou, bolo na, kaam khule hain, mere mehendi nai lagi hui," she replied, her tone drenched in sarcasm. Her confidence always left me fumbling for words, and tonight was no different.
I sighed, frustrated already. "Areh, dheere nai bol sakti tum? Sab bethe hain yahan, pagal aurat!" I shot back, though my voice lacked the bite I was going for.
Why was it so hard to talk to her?
She didn't miss a beat. "Itna tou dheere bol rahi hoon, aur kitna dheere bolu? Jahil aadmi!" Her sharp gaze pierced right through me, making me momentarily regret saying anything at all.
Before I could come up with a reply, Zeeshan's muffled laughter broke through the tension. He was practically shaking with suppressed giggles, which only annoyed me more.
"Kya problem hai is bande ko?" I muttered under my breath, glaring at him.
Hala's playful retorts and Zeeshan's uncontrollable amusement made the whole situation impossible to navigate. But then I caught her glancing at her mehendi and got an idea.
"Tumhari mehendi bohot achi lagrahi hai," I said, my tone softer this time, trying to shift the mood.
Her reaction wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for. She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise before flashing me a fake smile.
"Acha tou tum bhi lagwalo phir," she quipped, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"Main? Mehendi?" I leaned back on my seat, smirking. "Tumhe lagta hai main yeh sab karne wala hoon?"
She tilted her head, that infuriating smirk never leaving her face. "Haan toh kya? Tumhare haathon mein bhi toh rang aa sakta hai. Shayad achha lage!"
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "Mujhe rangon ki zarurat nahi. Mera asli charm kaafi hai."
"Charm? Kaunsa charm? Mujhe toh abhi tak nazar nahi aya," she shot back, resting her chin on her hand like she was enjoying this far too much.
"Ajeeb baat hai," I said, pretending to be offended. "Tumse toh compliments bhi nahi diya jata."
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Compliments toh unko milte hain jo deserve karte hain."
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. "Toh tumhare kehne ka matlab hai ke main deserve nahi karta?"
"Main toh bas sach bol rahi hoon. Tum ek ordinary larke ho mere liye." Her words stung, but the mischievous glint in her eyes told me she was just trying to get under my skin.
"Ordinary?" I repeated, laughing incredulously. "Tumne mujhe pehle kabhi dhyan se dekha bhi hai?
"Dekha toh hai..." she began, pausing for dramatic effect. "Bas kuch khaas nahi laga."
"Phir dhyan se dekh lo. Shayad tumhari nazar ka masla hai." I whispered leaning even closer, closing the gap between us.
Her breath hitched slightly, her eyes wide but even though she quickly masked it with her usual bravado.
"Main bohot achhi tarah dekh sakti hoon. Tumhare charm ke naam pe mujhe sirf overconfidence nazar aa raha hai."
"Overconfidence?" I repeated, laughing. "Aur tumhare sarcasm ke peeche mujhe sirf blush nazar aa raha hai."
Her jaw dropped slightly, and she immediately straightened up, folding her arms.
"Blush? Main aur tumhare liye? Sapne dekhna band karo," she shot back, her voice faltering just enough to make me grin.
"Sapne?" I said, leaning back with a triumphant look. "Tumhare saath ho raha har moment reality hai, darling."
She glared at me, but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave her away. "Tumhara charm toh mujhe kabhi nazar nahi aaya, lekin tumhara drama zarur full on hai."
"Jo bhi bolo," I replied, crossing my arms. "Tumhari baaton se hi pata chal raha hai tum impressed ho."
"Impressed?!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with laughter. "Tumhe apne sapnon se bahar aana padega."
Zeeshan, who had been quietly observing, couldn't resist chiming in.
"Bhabhi, ab apka jawab do. Sirf ap hi is bande ko sabak sikha sakti ho!" he said, tapping Hala's arm.She chuckled, clearly enjoying my misery.
"Tu dafa ho yahan se," I snapped, pushing him away before he could make things worse.
"Meri Mehendi hai mein kyun jaun bhai" He taunted., I glared at her thrn Turning back to Hala, I saw her talking to dado
"Dadi, apke kehne pe maine mehendi lagwa li," she announced with a dramatic sigh, holding up her hands to show the intricate patterns. Her tone was light, but I could see the exhaustion creeping in.
"Ab main thoda rest karloon?"Dadi smiled warmly at her, nodding her approval.
"Bilkul, beta. jaa aram kar or Mehendi ka rang jitna gehra hoga, utna hi tumhare shohar tumse pyaar karenge," she teased, winking at her.
Hala rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.
As she excused herself and made her way toward her room, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of nervousness and anticipation bubbling inside me. Her every movement carried a certain confidence that was equal parts intimidating and fascinating. Even her sarcasm had a charm that kept me coming back for more, despite knowing she could roast me alive in front of everyone.
Zeeshan leaned over and nudged me hard enough to almost knock me off the couch.
"Oye, hero," he whispered conspiratorially, "ab toh chance le lo. Aise aur kitni baari milegi? don't forget your dare" I shot him a glare, trying to mask my unease.
"Chup kar. Tujhe toh bas mazaak chahiye," I muttered, adjusting my collar and trying not to let my nerves show.
But as much as I tried to brush off his words, they stayed with me. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should take this opportunity to say something. Anything. But every time I even thought about it, I felt my courage evaporate.
For someone who could handle boardroom negotiations and family feuds, I sure was terrible at dealing with her.
Finally, I decided to stop overthinking it. With a deep breath, I stood up, my heart pounding louder than I cared to admit.
"Main... bas dekh kar aata hoon ke Hala theek hai ya nahi," I mumbled to no one in particular, avoiding eye contact with Zeeshan's knowing smirk and Bhai showing thumbs up.
As I walked toward her room, I could feel a hundred different scenarios playing out in my mind. What would I even say? Would she laugh in my face? Or worse, would she ignore me completely?
When I reached her door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly. "Hala? Tum theek ho?"
There was a pause, and then her voice came through, muffled but clear enough. "Sufiyaan? Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" I swallowed hard, suddenly second-guessing every decision that had led me to this moment.
"Woh... main bas dekhna chahta tha ke tumhe koi cheez chahiye toh nahi," I said, cursing myself internally for how lame that sounded.
The door opened a crack, and she peeked out, one eyebrow raised.
"Tum suddenly itne considerate kabse ban gaye?" Her tone was teasing, but her expression softened when she saw my genuinely awkward stance.
"Kya baat hai, Sufiyaan? Tumhe toh ab tak mujhe sirf tang karte the," she said, opening the door fully and crossing her arms.
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy caught passing notes.
"Hala, tumhare haath bohot sundar lag rahe hain mehendi mein," I said softly, the words spilling out before I could second-guess myself.
She blinked, clearly surprised, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something other than sarcasm in her eyes. But then her lips curved into a smirk, and I knew she wasn't going to let me off that easily.
"Tumhe mehendi ke designs ke baare mein kabse itna interest hone laga, Sufiyaan?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the warmth creeping up my neck betrayed me.
"Jab se tumhare haath pe dekha," I admitted, my voice quieter this time.
Her eyes widened slightly, just for a moment, before she quickly recovered. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed as she tilted her head, studying me with that same curious expression she always wore when she thought I was up to something.
. "Achha? Yeh nayi baat hai. Pehle toh tum sirf mazaak udaate theab flirting bhi shuru kardi tumne."She accused, I let out a soft laugh, scratching the back of my neck.
"Haan, toh mazaak toh humesha chalta rahega. Lekin kabhi kabhi sach bhi bol deta hoon," I said, my eyes meeting hers and holding them this time.
Her teasing demeanor faltered for a second, and I noticed the faintest hint of color rising to her cheeks. She quickly turned her face away, pretending to examine her mehendi.
"sach keh rahe ho ya phir phir se koi drama yar tang kar rahe ho?" she asked, her voice quieter than before.
I stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking.
"Tumhe lagta hai main hamesha drama karta hoon?" I asked, my tone softer now, less playful.She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine for a moment.
"Haan," she said, but there was no bite in her tone. It felt more like a challenge, one I wasn't about to back away from.
I smiled, taking another step closer. "Aur agar is baar sach keh raha hoon? Agar main yeh keh raha hoon ke tum bohot khubsoorat lag rahi ho... sirf mehendi ki wajah se nahi, par is moment mein?"
Her breath hitched, and I saw her lips part slightly as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, her gaze softened, and for the first time, I saw something in her eyes that wasn't sarcasm or mischiefâit was uncertainty.
"Hala," I said, my voice barely above a whisper now.
."I know this wedding was forceful but the more I have spent my time with you and I have realised that maybe I have started liking you, and I don't want to deny this feeling anymore I might pretend that I hate you but it's not the truth, Tum mujhe pasand aane lagi ho can we forget the contract.
she didn't respond and froze her eyes wide in shock and her face pale.
"Hala," I repeated, this time with more confidence, my heart hammering in my chest as I watched her expression shift between confusion and disbelief.
"Yeh kya Mazak hai" She snapped at me with a glare"
"I mean every word I just said. I know how this all startedâit wasn't ideal. We were forced into something neither of us wanted. But things are different now, at least for me. The more time I've spent with you, the more I've realized that I don't hate you. I never did. Maybe I was just too stubborn to admit it to myself, but the truth is... tum mujhe pasand ho ab."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to interrupt, but she stayed silent, her wide eyes locked onto mine. The flicker of vulnerability on her face pushed me to continue.
"I'm tired of pretending, Hala. I know I can be annoying, sarcastic, even unbearable sometimes," I added with a slight smile, hoping to ease the tension.
"But beneath all that, there's a part of me that really wants to make this work. I don't want this marriage to just be a 'contract.' I want it to be real. Can we try? Start freshâwithout the resentment, without the conditions. Just... give us a chance."
For a moment, she didn't say anything. She just stared at me, her shocked expression softening into something I couldn't quite place. Her lips quivered as she tried to speak, but no words came out. I held my breath, afraid I'd said too much, too soon.
Finally, she managed to whisper, "Tum... pagal ho gaye ho. Yeh sab kya keh rahe ho?" Her voice was unsteady, but it wasn't angry. It was uncertain, maybe even scary.
"Yes, maybe I'm crazy," I replied, leaning closer to her, desperate for her to understand.
"Crazy for you, Hala. Crazy for the way you argue with me, for how you make fun of me, for that spark in your eyes when you're proving me wrong. You make me feel things I didn't think I was capable of feeling, and I can't ignore it anymore."
She shook her head slightly, as if trying to process my words.
"Sufiyaan... tumhe pata bhi hai tum kya bol rahe ho? Hum dono... humare beech jo bhi tha, it was nothing butâ"
"A contract," I interrupted, my voice firm.
"I know. But that's just on paper, Hala. What's between usâit's more than that. You can deny it all you want, but I've seen it in your eyes too. This isn't just one-sided."
Her silence was deafening. I could see the battle waging in her mindâthe hesitation, the fear, the doubt. But beneath it all, there was something else.
"Hala," I said softly, reaching out to gently hold her arms. She flinched but didn't pull away.
"I'm not asking for a guarantee. I'm just asking for a chance. Let's stop fighting what's already there. Let's figure it out together."
She looked down at her hands, her lashes brushing against her cheek as she blinked rapidly. Then, finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible.
"Nahi, Sufiyaan," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if she were speaking to herself more than to me.
"Mein aisa kuch nahi kar sakti. Mein yeh chance nahi le sakti." The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final. The distance between us felt unbearable, like a vast ocean that no words could cross. Her lips trembled as she continued.
"You don't even know me properly. Mein tumhare liye kuch feel nahi karti. I don't trust you, nor do I trust anyone. And a relationship... it doesn't work without trust."
Her eyes, those beautiful eyes that had once sparkled with laughter and mischief, now held nothing but painâraw, unfiltered pain.
Tears gathered at the corners, and though she tried to blink them away, one escaped, trailing down her cheek like a silent confession.
It was as if the weight of all her past heartbreaks, all the walls she had built to protect herself, had come crashing down with those simple words.
"I'm sorry, but I can't," she said, each syllable a gentle but firm rejection that broke me piece by piece.
"Don't make this more complicated for us, Sufiyaan. Jaisa chal raha hai, waise hi rehne do."
She took a small step back, as if trying to distance herself from not just me, but from everything I had just poured out to her. And with that simple movement, it felt like she was breaking something inside me too.
I could see it in her eyesâshe was broken. Every word she said, every movement, spoke of a heart that had been shattered so many times before that she no longer knew how to trust, how to open up.
She had built those walls to protect herself from the pain of disappointment, and no matter how much I wanted to tear them down, I couldn't.
Her body language screamed of rejection, and it felt like she was retreating into herself, shutting me out completely.
She shook her head, as if trying to convince herself that this was the right thing to do. She couldn't even look at me anymore, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground.
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of my chest. I stared at her, trying to process what she was saying, but it felt like the ground beneath me was crumbling.
"Nahi, Hala," I said
. "You don't mean it. I can see it in your eyes. Whatever pain you're carrying, whatever's holding you backâlet me in. Let me help you."
"Share with you? humare beech koi aisa rishta hai kya haan?" She mocked me and it hit me hard.
"but ban sakta hai" I said hopefully taking a step near her Her mocking expression faltered for a second, replaced by a hint of surprise. She took a small step back. but her voice was less sharp this time.
"Ban sakta hai?" she echoed, almost like she didn't believe me.
"Han" I nodded firmly, my heart racing. "Agar tum chaho toh... ek rishta ban sakta hai. Aisa jo tumhe har baat share karne ka haq de aur mujhe tumhare paas rehne ka."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to gauge if I was serious or just saying this on a whim.
"Aur agar main na chahoon toh?" she asked, her tone cautious but not entirely dismissive.
"Phir main intezaar karunga," I said softly, taking another step closer.
"Tab tak, jab tak tum khud yeh rishta banana na chaho." There was silence between us now, the air thick with unspoken emotions. She looked at me, her gaze searching for somethingâmaybe sincerity, maybe hope.
She shook her head vehemently, taking another step back, as if putting physical distance between us would make her words easier to say.
"Sufiyaan don't force me into this I don't want this, my answer is clear, I don't want anything in this marriage it is and will always be a forced marriage that my father did so stop please.
Her voice cracked, and I could see the walls she had built around her heartâstrong, unyielding, and laced with fear. But beneath them, I saw the broken pieces she was desperately trying to protect.
"Hala, you don't have to trust me completely right now," I said, my own eyes stinging as I stepped closer. "But trust me enough to take one step. That's all I'm asking forâa start."
"No, Sufiyaan," she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked away. "Mujhe laga tha ke main yeh sab handle kar sakti hoon. Lekin jitna hum iss rishte ko badalne ki koshish karenge, utna hi mushkil hoga. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to hurt myself.
"Hala," I said softly, reaching out to cup her face, but she flinched and stepped away again, shaking her head.
"Don't," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the word aloud would make it hurt less.
"Don't make this harder for me. Tumhare liye yeh shayad simple hoga, but for me... it's not. I'm sorry, Sufiyaan. Main yeh chance nahi le sakti."
Her voice broke on the last word, and with that, she turned away, going inside the washroom, her shoulders trembling.
I stood there, frozen, unable to do anything but watch her walk away, taking every ounce of hope I had with her.
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