Here you go the target is not complete but we are close to it so I am posting because few readers were very sweet and supporting, But next chapter will be after the target is completed so I have kept the target same.
700+ comments And 1k votes.
And those who wish to read the next chapter it's already published on stck.me website you can check the link in my profile.
The morning came, and I wished it hadn't. Aairah was leaving today, and the thought alone made my stomach churn. My heart felt as if someone was squeezing it, suffocating me in an invisible grip.
I ran my hand through my damp hair, frustrated. The air felt heavier, the walls of my room suffocating. I glanced at the clockâ9 AM.
I had just returned from my workout, my T-shirt clinging to my sweaty skin, my breaths still uneven.
But as I stepped inside the room, a strange panic seized me. My gaze swept around, searching. The bed was neatly made, her bag was still in the corner, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Did she leave already?
The thought sent a sharp pang through my chest. My pulse quickened as unease gripped me. No. She wouldn't just leave without telling meâright?
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. And just then, the door of the washroom creaked open. My tense shoulders relaxed instantly.
Aairah stepped out, dressed in a deep blue suit, her presence making my world pause.
I forgot how to breathe.
Her wet hair rested on one shoulder, dark and glistening, a few rebellious strands clinging to her cheek. She rubbed her fingers through her damp locks, unaware of the chaos she was causing in my chest.
As she walked towards the dressing table, she absentmindedly threw her hair to the other side. Droplets of water scattered in the air, one landing softly on my face.
My breath hitched.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, savoring that tiny, insignificant touch. But when I opened them again, I found myself helplessly drawn to her.
She hadn't noticed me yet, too lost in fixing her bangles, adjusting the folds of her dupatta. But when she finally turned, our eyes met.
She stilled.
Her wide eyes locked onto mine, surprise flickering across her delicate features. Aairah hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, her gaze softening as she noticed the drop of water on my cheek.
"Sorry, mujhe nahi pata tha aap khade hain," she murmured, her voice as gentle as a whisper in the wind.
(Sorry I didn't know you were standing here)
Before I could respond, she lifted the corner of her dupatta, stepping even closer. The scent of her shampooâa mix of jasmine and something uniquely herâwrapped around me as she raised her hand, ready to wipe the water off my face.
But before the fabric could touch my skin, I caught her wrist gently.
She frowned, looking up at me in confusion.
"Rehne dein," I said, my voice quieter than before. "My face is already sweaty. Aap ka dupatta kharab ho jayega."
(let it be, my face is already sweaty your scarf will get dirty)
For a second, neither of us moved. The warmth of her wrist under my fingers sent a shiver through me. But then, realizing what I was doing, I quickly let go.
She nodded, stepping back. But as she moved away, I instinctively moved forward.
She gasped softly, her feet hesitating as I closed the space between us. I wasn't even thinkingâI was just following the invisible pull that always drew me to her.
She took a step back.
I took another forward.
Her back hit the wall.
Aairah's breathing turned shallow as I lifted my arm, my fingers reaching upwards. Her lashes fluttered, her gaze flickering from my face to the hand hovering beside her.
"Hayaan," she whispered, barely audible. "Aap... kya kar rahe hain?"
(What are you doing?)
Her fingers twisted nervously around the edge of her dupatta, her cheeks slowly turning crimson.
I smiled.
"Relax," I murmured, my voice teasing. "Kuch nahi kar raha. Sirf towel le raha hoon."
(I am not doing anything just taking the towel)
I plucked the towel hanging beside the cupboard, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric. Aairah's eyes squeezed shut, her breath hitching, as if bracing herself.
I chuckled softly, shaking my head.
Her innocence... her nervousness... everything about her made it impossible to look away.
Stepping back, I turned towards the washroom, but as soon as I reached the door, reality came crashing back.
She was still leaving.
The momentary distraction faded, replaced by the unbearable weight in my chest. I gripped the doorknob tighter, hesitating.
I wanted to say somethingâanythingâthat would make her stay.
But I didn't because I know she won't stop .
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, letting the sound of running water drown out the ache in my heart.
Because no matter what I wanted, no matter how much I wished for time to stop...
I stepped out of the washroom, running a hand through my damp hair, feeling the coolness of the water still lingering on my skin. My blue shirt clung slightly to my shoulders, the fabric soft against my freshly showered body, the gray pants fitting just right.
I hadn't noticed it at first.
Not until my eyes found her.
Aairah.
Standing in front of the mirror, fully ready, looking like a vision that shouldn't belong to this world.
My breath caught in my throat.
Her brown hair, long and silky, cascaded down her back, falling effortlessly till her tailbone. A soft, natural wave ran through the strands, making them look even more mesmerizing.
The dim morning light from the window caught in them, adding a golden sheen, making me wonder how something so simple could be so utterly beautiful.
She lifted her hand to adjust her earringsâdelicate silver ones that jingled softly, the sound barely audible yet somehow wrapping around me.
Her nose ring shimmered against her skin, perfectly complementing her features, adding an edge to her soft beauty.
The light makeup she wore was subtle, but it only enhanced what was already perfect. The soft pink on her lips, the faint kohl lining her deep eyes, the touch of blush gracing her cheeksâit was all just right.
Too right.
Too perfect.
I felt something shift inside me.
She still hadn't noticed me, too focused on fixing the thin gold bangle on her wrist. And in that moment, I let myself just look at her, taking in every detail, every soft breath she took.
And then it hit me.
We were matching.
My blue shirt. Her blue suit.
My gray pants. The silver of her jewelry.
As if the universe itself had decided we should look like we belonged together today.
A bitter thought clawed at my chestâwas it mocking me? Dressing us in harmony just to remind me that I was going to lose her today?
I exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the ache that came with that realization. But then, a whisper of a memory came to meâsomething I had overheard before, something that made my brows pull together.
Last night's conversation echoed in my mind like a cruel whisper, I overheard her and noor talking.
"Mujhe samajh nahi aata, Aairah itni insecure kyun hai?"
(I don't understand why Aairah is so insecure)
She didn't think she was beautiful.
She didn't see what I saw.
She wasn't just enough. She was everything.
Perfect in a way that made my heart ache. Perfect in a way that made me want to protect her from her own insecurities, from her own doubts.
If anyone lacked something, it was me.
I took a step forward, my shoes making a soft sound against the floor. She stiffened slightly, finally sensing my presence. Her hands froze mid-movement as she lifted her gaze to meet mine through the mirror.
Her breath hitched.
Our eyes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded.
And now, standing in front of her, watching her struggle to clasp the delicate gold chain around her neck, I felt that ache settle deeper.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to fasten the hook, frustration making her brows furrow, her lips pressing together in irritation.
I sighed.
"Mein kardun?"
(Should I)
She stilled, her hands dropping.
For a moment, she didn't look at me.
Then, slowly, she turned, her deep brown eyes flickering up to mine. There was hesitation, uncertaintyâbut she didn't refuse.
Without a word, she extended the chain toward me, surrendering to my offer in silence.
My heart pounded as I stepped closer.
I reached forward, gently gathering her long, silky hair and moving it to one shoulder. The strands slid through my fingers like water, their scentâher scentâwrapping around me.
Soft jasmine. A hint of something warm, something purely her.
My fingers barely grazed her skin, but the moment they touched the nape of her neck, she shivered.
A breath hitched in her throat.
The reaction sent a jolt through me, making my pulse spike. I forced myself to focus, to hook the delicate clasp of her chain, but my eyes liftedâfinding hers in the mirror.
And suddenly, I forgot how to breathe.
She was already looking at me.
Her gaze was wide, unguarded, filled with something fragile. Something raw.
The tension between us was thick, suffocating.
I could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
I wasn't sure if I wanted her to.
Because at this moment, words weren't needed.
I should have stepped back the second I fastened the chain.
I should have let go.
But I didn't.
My fingers lingered at the base of her neck, the warmth of her skin searing into mine. I wasn't touching herânot really. But it felt like I was.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
"Aairah."
Her name left my lips softer than a whisper, but she reacted as if I had shouted it.
Her lashes fluttered, her fingers tightening around the edge of the dressing table, her breathing uneven.
Something shifted in her eyes. Something dangerous.
I didn't know what would happen if I lifted my hand just a little higher, if I let my fingers trace the delicate curve of her neck, if I leaned in just a little closer.
But I wanted to.
God, I wanted to.
And for the first time, I saw it in her eyesâshe wanted it too.
A deep, shaky breath escaped her lips, and I felt it against my skin, even from this slight distance.
Aairah turned around slowly, facing me fully now. "Aap... ready ho gaye?" she asked softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
(Are you ready)
I took another step closer.
Her breath wavered.
My gaze didn't leave hers, not even for a second. She looked unsure, maybe a little nervous, her fingers still playing with her bangle.
I tilted my head slightly, my voice quieter this time.
"Ap kitni perfect hain"
(You are so perfect)
Her eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. She parted her lips to say something, but no words came out. Her cheeks tinged the softest shade of pink, and she looked down, as if she couldn't handle the intensity of my stare.
I took another step closer.
We weren't touching, but the air between us felt charged, thick with something neither of us dared to name.
She let out a soft, unsteady breath, still looking away.
I lifted my hand, slowly, hesitantly, until my fingers hovered near her jaw. She sucked in a breath, her lashes fluttering, but she didn't move away.
With the gentlest touch, I traced my knuckles along the side of her face, tucking that loose strand of hair fully behind her ear. My fingers brushed the delicate silver of her earrings, the warmth of her skin seeping into mine.
She shivered.
"Aairah," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
She finally looked up.
And for the first time, I saw something vulnerable in her eyes. A silent question. A silent plea.
The knock on the door had shattered everything.
She had flinched. I had stepped back. And just like that, the moment was gone.
She turned toward the door, her face carefully blank, smoothing the front of her dress as if she hadn't just looked at me like that. As if I hadn't just felt something shift so deeply inside me that it left my chest aching.
I ran a hand through my damp hair, forcing myself to breathe. I needed to pull myself together.
But then, she hesitated.
Her eyes flickered toward my chest, brows knitting in concern.
"Hayaan... aapki shirt ka button?" she murmured, pointing toward the missing button near my collar.
( your shirt's button?)
I glanced down, only now realizing it was broken. I sighed, shaking my head.
"Main change kar leta hoon."
(I will get changed)
I turned toward the wardrobe, but before I could take a step, I felt itâ
A soft, hesitant touch.
Her fingers wrapped around my wrist.
Warm. Gentle.
I froze.
"Mein kardu?" she asked quietly. "Agar aap chahein toh... main laga deti hoon button."
("Shall I do it?" she asked quietly. "If you want... I can sew the button on.")
My breath caught.
She was offering to fix itâlike I had done for her.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do something so small yet so intimate for me.
I turned to face her fully, my chest tightening. There was no teasing in her eyes, no hesitationâjust quiet sincerity. A soft, uncertain offer that she wasn't sure I would accept.
A slow smile curved my lips, something warm unfurling in my chest.
"Pura haq hai apka," I whispered. "Jo chahein kar sakti hain aap."
(You have full right," "You can do whatever you want.)
Her cheeks flushed the lightest shade of pink. She quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, flustered, before stepping toward the nearest drawer.
She pulled out a needle, a thread, and a button, exhaling deeply before walking back toward me.
And then, she hesitated.
I was taller than her. She struggled for a second, shifting on her feet, trying to decide how to reach the right height.
"Ek second," I murmured, slipping off my shoes. She watched me, confusion flickering across her face.
"Mere pairon ke upar khadi ho jaayein," I said softly.
"Stand on my feet."
Her brows lifted in surprise. "Mein aise-"
(Me like this-)
"Aise asani hogi aapko," I assured her, extending my hand toward her.
(It will be easier for you this way.)
She hesitated for a brief moment, then, with delicate fingers, unfastened her embroidered flats and slipped them off.
Her bare feet hovered just above the ground, uncertain, before she placed her palm lightly in mine. A shiver of hesitation ran through her before she finally let go and placed her feet over mine.
The warmth of her skin, the hesitant press of her weight against meâit sent a pulse through my chest.
Then, without a word, she lifted herself onto her tippy toes.
The moment she did, my hands moved instinctively, wrapping around her waist.
To steady her.
To hold her close.
To keep her near.
We were so close now. Close enough to feel the warmth of each other's breaths, the rise and fall of our chests syncing in an unspoken rhythm.
She stiffened at my touch.
For a single breath, I thought she would pull away. That she would step back, put distance between us again, remind me that none of this meant anything.
But she didn't.
Instead, after a heartbeat, she relaxed.
Just a little. Just enough.
She shifted her focus back to the button, carefully threading the needle, while my focus remained entirelyâhelplesslyâon her.
Her scent wrapped around me, soft jasmine mixed with something warmer, something purely her.
I felt the warmth of her skin beneath my hands, the subtle rise and fall of her breath, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she began sewing the button in place.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.
"Aapke haath kanp rahe hain," I murmured.
(Your hands are shivering)
She hesitated for only a second before whispering back, "Kyunki aap mujhe aise dekh rahe hain... main nervous ho rahi hoon."
(Because you are staring at me like this, I am getting nervous)
A slow, knowing smile tugged at my lips.
"Toh phir aap bataayein..." I leaned in slightly, my voice low, teasing. "Main kahan dekhoon?"
(Then you tell me where should I look?)
She sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers pausing mid-stitch.
She raised her head, her lips parting slightly, our faces suddenly too close.
Her deep brown eyes met mine, filled with something unreadableâsomething fragile. Something dangerous.
She didn't answer.
Didn't tell me to look away.
Didn't step back.
Instead, she moved even closer.
And thenâ
She cut the thread with her teeth.
A simple action. Innocent. But the way her breath fanned against my chest? The way her lips barely brushed the fabric of my shirt?
My jaw clenched, my grip unconsciously firming at her waist.
She felt it. I knew she did.
Because for a single, electrifying second, she didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Neither did I.
I couldn't help it. I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"Agar aap aise mere qareeb hongi..." My fingers flexed slightly at her waist, my touch deliberate. "Toh meri nazrein aur kidhar jaayengi, Aairah?"
("If you will be this close to me..." "Then where else will my eyes go, Aairah?")
Her breath hitched.
She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the fabric of my shirt.
But she didn't move away.
Didn't push me back.
For a moment, it felt like she wouldn't.
And thenâshe did.
She took a step back, breaking the spell, her breath unsteady.
Before I could say anything, before I could stop her, she spoke first.
"Neeche chale... sabko batana bhi hai ke main Kashmir ja rahi hoon."
(let's go down I have to tell everyone that I am going Kashmir)
She didn't wait for my response.
Didn't give me another glance.
She turned, walked toward the door, and leftâ
Taking the warmth of the moment with her.
Leaving me standing there, my heart aching in a way I didn't know how to fix.
I took slow steps toward the living room, my heart feeling heavier with each passing second. The soft murmur of conversation filled the space, my in-laws and parents engrossed in a discussion I couldn't quite catch.
My mother-in-law moved gracefully, serving breakfast with the help of the servants, her usual warmth slightly subdued by the weight of last night's events.
The air was thick with unspoken words, the silence between sentences stretching longer than usual.
Mahira entered behind me, her expression unreadable, her bags packed, and little Ada's tiny fingers curled around hers.
The sight sent a pang through my chest, a silent reminder of the changes unraveling before us.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and stepped forward.
"Assalam alaikum," I greeted, my voice softer than intended. The hum of conversation halted as all eyes turned toward me.
A moment of stillness passed before their expressions softened, smiles gracing their faces.
"Ao, naashta kar putar," Dado said, extending her hand toward me with affection. I walked toward her, her wrinkled fingers enclosing mine, offering a familiar comfort I wasn't sure I deserved in that moment.
My mother- in-law's eyes twinkled with admiration as she took in my appearance.
"Areh, meri jaan, kitni khoobsurat lag rahi hai. Kahin ja rahi ho kya subah-subah?" Her voice carried curiosity, and a hint of concern laced her words.
("Oh, my love, you look so beautiful. Are you going somewhere this early in the morning?")
My fingers tightened slightly around Dado's hand, my pulse quickening. How was I supposed to tell them? My throat felt dry as hesitation gripped me, making my words falter before they could even form.
"Kya hua? Kuch masla hai kya? Sab khairiyat hai na?" My father-in-law's deep, steady voice broke through the silence, his observant eyes scanning my face.
(What happened? Is there some problem? Everything is okay, right?)
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, forcing a small smile to mask my nervousness.
"Sab sahi hai... woh... main bas aap sabko batana chahti thi ke main Ami aur Baba ke saath Kashmir ja rahi hoon... kuch dino ke liye."
(Everything is fine... it's just that... I wanted to let you all know that I'm going to Kashmir with Mom and Dad... for a few days.)
As the words left my lips, the air around me seemed to shift. I braced myself, waiting for their reaction, my heart hammering against my ribs.
A moment of silence followed my words as everyone processed what I had just said. My mother's face lit up with happiness, but my mother-in-law's brows furrowed in surprise.
"Tumne pehle kyun nahi bataya, beta?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm. "Itni achanak kyun ja rahi ho? sab theek hai na"
(Why didn't you tell me earlier, dear?, Why are you going so suddenly? Everything is alright, right?)
I lowered my gaze, guilt settling heavy in my chest. "Woh... Mama, mujhe batana chahiye tha, aapse poochna chahiye tha," I admitted, my voice laced with remorse.
(Well... Mom, I should have told you, I should have asked you.)
"Lekin yeh sab last-minute plan hua. Ami aur Baba force karhe thay, aur ab jab woh yahan aaye hain, toh mein ne socha unke saath jaati hoon unke saath waqt guzarna chahti hoon." I hesitated before adding, "Mujhe pata hai, mujhe is waqt sabke saath hona chahiye... lekin meiâ"
(But this all happened as a last-minute plan. Mom and Dad insisted, and now that they are here, I thought I should go with them and spend time with them." "I know, I should be with everyone right now... but Iâ)
Before I could complete my sentence, my mother-in-law cupped my face affectionately, her warmth washing away some of my hesitation.
"Arrey beta, main sirf yeh keh rahi thi ke mujhe pehle se pata nahi tha," she said with a soft chuckle. "Tumhe ijazat lene ki zaroorat nahi hai. Yeh tumhara bhi ghar hai, aur tumhe apne maayke jaane ka pura haq hai."
(Oh dear, I was just saying that I didn't know beforehand,. You don't need permission. This is your home too, and you have every right to go to your parents' place.)
Her words melted away the last bit of nervousness inside me. I blinked, my eyes stinging slightly, and smiled gratefully.
"Waise bhi, kaafi arsa ho gaya hai tumhare ghar jaaye," she continued, brushing my hair back. "Humesha humne tumhe roka, lekin is baar jao, araam se waqt guzaar ke aana. Yahan ki fikar mat karo, sab sahi hai."
(Anyway, it's been quite a while since you went to your parents' place, We've always stopped you, but this time go, relax, and spend time there. Don't worry about things here, everything is fine.)
I felt an overwhelming surge of emotions as I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug.
"Shukriya, Mama," I whispered against her shoulder, feeling truly grateful for her kindness.
(Thankyou mama)
Before the moment could turn too emotional, Dada Jee let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head.
"Arrey, Mahira bhi ja rahi hai, Aairah bhi... ghar toh khali ho jaayega bhai," he grumbled, feigning disappointment.
"Mahira is leaving and Aairah is going too the house will be so empty)
Mahira and I exchanged a glance before breaking into laughter. "Dada jee," I coaxed, playfully holding his arm.
"Mei kuch dinon mein wapas aa jaungi, aur waha se bhi roz call karungi, theek hai?"
(I'll come back in a few days, and I'll call every day from there, okay?)
He sighed heavily, as if debating whether to forgive me, then gave a small nod. "Theek hai, lekin roz call karna mat bhoolna."
(Fine but don't forget to call everyday)
"Mahi tum rukjao phir kuch din meri naatin ke sath wakt kab nikal gaya pata he nai chala" He said taking ada in his arms.
(Mahi, you stay for a while. Then, I lost track of time spending those few days with my granddaughters.)
" dadu apko toh mein kerahi hoon chalen mere sath ghoom phir kar ajyen or apko bas Ada ke sath khelna hai mera tou kuch na jaye haina" Mahira said playfully, Dada jee shook his head.
(Grandpa, I'm saying you to come with me! Come, let's go and have fun. And you just have to play with Ada, you don't care about me)
I smiled at their banter, before my attention shifted towards the staircase.
My smile faltered slightly when I saw Hayaan descending the stairs, his gaze dark and unreadable, his aura exuding pure authority.
Hayaan walked over to the gathering, his expression unreadable but his posture composed. Despite the serious aura surrounding him, he greeted everyone with respect, his voice steady and formal.
"Assalamualaikum," he said, nodding at each elder respectfully before taking a seat at the breakfast table I sighed at him they way he was sitting robotically
Robotic Sikandar
Before anyone could respond, Hala and Sufiyaan followed right behind him.
"Wa Alaikum Assalam," Dado responded warmly, though she gave him a knowing look, as if sensing something was off.
Hala and Sufiyaan too greeted everyone before sitting on the table, I too sat beside Sufiyaan opposite Hayaan.
"Uff, yeh subah subah itni tension wali hawa kyun chal rahi hai? sufiyan chai laado mere liye, warna meri jaan nikal jayegi!" she said, dramatically placing a hand on her forehead looking at her husband.
(Ugh, why is there such a tense atmosphere this early in the morning? Sufiyan, bring me some tea, or else I'll lose my mind!)
Sufiyaan scoffed. "Haan, bas tumhari chai ki kami thi yahan," he muttered under his breath.
(Yes, the only thing missing here was your tea.)
"Han ab jao shohar ho na mere kidmat karni chahiye?" she mocked him with a teasy smile.
(Yes, now go, you're my husband, you should serve me!)
"Ulta hai madam wou shayad apka kam hai" He mocked her back she glared at him, hitting his foot he hissed.
(That's the opposite, madam. That might be your job.)
Sufiyaan's eyes landed at me and at the bags he frowned asked me "Bhabhi aap kahan jarahi hain?"
(Bhabhi are you going somewhere?)
"Haan mein kashmir" I replied glancing at Hayaan who raised his eyes and looked at me then back at food.
(Yeah I am going Kashmir)
As if on cue, Sufiyaan leaned in and whispered, "Bhabhi, aap aise kaise ja sakti hain humein danger zone mein daal kar?"
(Bhabhi, how can you go like this, putting us in the danger zone?)
I turned my head slightly, confused. "Kya matlab?"
(What do you mean?)
Sufiyaan discreetly pointed at Hayaan, who had now taken a seat at the breakfast table, his face expressionless, his demeanor unnervingly quiet.
"Dekha? kis tarah khamosh baithe hai. Aap ja rahi hain, matlab hum sab pe aaj talaq case chalega," he muttered dramatically.
(See? How quietly everyone is sitting. You're leaving, which means today a divorce case will be filed against all of us.)
I bit my lip to hold back my laugh. "Bas kuch din ki baat hai," I whispered back.
(It's just a matter of a few days.)
Sufiyaan sighed heavily. "Agar hum zinda bache tab tak."
(if we're still alive by that time)
Mahira chuckled, setting Ada's bag down beside her. "Sufiyaan, bhai ap na filmon ki tarah har cheez dramatic bana dete ho, he is just quietly eating his food " she teased.
(you take every matter in a dramatic way like a movie)
"Filmon jaisa?" Sufiyaan scoffed. "Tum logo ko samajh nahi aa raha! Yeh dekho Hayaan bhai ko! Kitni serious vibes de rahe hain! Agar aap chali gayi, bhabhi, toh hum pe zulm hoga!" He placed a hand on his heart.
( like movies? don't you guys get it? look at Hayaan, he's being so serious, if you're gone, sister-in-law, we'll be tortured)
Hala snorted. "Tumse chup rehna nahi hoga."
(you can't stay silent at all)
Just as they were enjoying their whispering banter, a sudden shift in the air made the laughter die down.
The sound of measured footsteps filled the room, and thenâ
Zeeshan entered.
The moment he stepped in, the warmth in the room flickered like a candle against the wind. The air thickened with an unspoken tension.
My parents, who had been enjoying the light-hearted moment, suddenly grew quiet, I felt their questioning gazes on me, confusion evident in their eyes.
I inhaled sharply and blinked at them in reassurance, silently telling them to stay calm.
Zeeshan's eyes scanned the room before settling on me. There was something unreadable in his gazeâsomething that made my pulse quicken.
Dado, sensing the shift in atmosphere, cleared her throat. "Zeeshan, beta, naashta karoge?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
(zeeshan, will you have breakfast?)
Zeeshan gave a small nod, his expression impassive. "Ji, Dado," he replied, his tone polite but distant.
(Yes, dado)
I clenched my hands in my lap. This was supposed to be a normal morning. But with Zeeshan's arrival, I knewâthings had just taken another turn.
Zeeshan's gaze swept across the room, lingering on each family member before settling on me. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying a heavy burden. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed back his chair and stood up.
The room fell silent as he cleared his throat. His voice was raw, heavy with emotion.
"I... I want to apologize," he said, his tone cracking slightly. "For everything. For all the mistakes I made. I know I hurt you all, and I have no excuse for it. I'm ashamed of myself, and I can't bear this distance anymore. Please... please don't be like this with me. It's hurting."
he wiped his face and turned toward everyone once more. "Main waqai sharminda hoon," he said, his voice sincere.
( I am really ashamed)
"Mujhe realize ho gaya hai ke maine sirf Noor se nahi, balki aap sab se ghalti ki hai. Main samajhta tha ke jo main kar raha hoon, woh sahi hai, lekin mujhe samajhne mein dair ho gayi. Aur ab jab aap sab mujhse duur duur hain, tab samajh aaya ke main kitna galat tha."
( I have realised, not only with noor, but I have also wronged all of you. I thought i was doing the right thing, but it took me too long to realise that it was not. And now that all of you are distant from me, it made me realise how wrong I have been.)
He looked around desperately. "Agar aap sab mujhse naraz rahenge toh main kaise theek ho sakta hoon? Aap sab meri family hain, aur main bina family ke kuch bhi nahi hoon."
("If you all stay upset with me, how can I be okay? You all are my family, and I am nothing without my family.")
His voice wavered, and to my surprise, his eyes filled with tears. He quickly looked down, trying to compose himself, but the brokenness in his voice was undeniable.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as I turned my gaze toward Hayaan. His hands were clenched into fists, resting on his thighs, his jaw tight. He didn't even look at Zeeshan, but I could tell he was struggling.
My heart ached for both of them.
I stood up, looking at everyone. "At least give him a chance," I said, my voice firm yet gentle.
"Galti sabse hoti hai. Lekin usne kisi ka qatal nahi kiya, na chori ki hai, na hi kisi se batameezi. Agar chahta toh Noor ke saath bura kar sakta tha, par usne nahi kiya. Usne usse nikaah kiya hai, izzat bana kar laaye hai. Agar hum usse maaf nahi karenge, toh hum aur usme kya farq reh jayega? Usne galti ki hai, aur wo sharminda hai. Lekin agar hum usko maafi na dekar usi tarah treat karenge, toh hum bhi toh galat karenge, na?"
(Mistakes happen to everyone. But he hasn't killed anyone, nor has he stolen anything, nor disrespected anyone. If he wanted, he could have wronged Noor, but he didn't. Instead, he married her and brought her home with respect. If we don't forgive him, then what difference will be left between us and him? He made a mistake, and he is ashamed of it. But if we refuse to forgive him and treat him the same way, wouldn't we also be doing wrong?)
A few family members exchanged glances, my words slowly settling in.
"Bhabhi sahi keh rahi hai," Hala spoke up. "Aur Noor bohot achi larki hai. Humein usse accept bhi karna chahiye. Chahe hum maane ya na maane, ab wo Zeeshan ki wife hai."
(Bhabhi is right, "And Noor is a very good girl. We should accept her as well. Whether we admit it or not, she is now Zeeshan's wife.)
Her words carried weight, and I saw the stiffness in Zeeshan's shoulders ease just a little.
I saw Dado's eyes soften. Sufiyaan, who had been standing with his arms crossed, scoffed, "Bohot late realization hua hai Zee."
"Bhai, agar aap log aisay naraz rahenge toh main depression mein chala jaunga," Zeeshan dramatically placed a hand on his forehead.
(Bhai, if you all stay upset like this, I'll fall into depression,
"Aap log toh waqai mujhe bhool gaye. Kal mujhe khana bhi extra thanda dia gaya tha!"
(You all have really forgotten me. Yesterday, I was even given extra cold food!)
Hala rolled her eyes. "Acha ji? Aur Noor ke bareme kya haan?
(Really and what about Noor)
Zeeshan nodded immediately. "Haan, aur mujhe afsos hai. Noor waqai bohot achi larki hai. Main uske saath ghalat tha, lekin ab main uska khayal rakhunga, promise."
(Yes, and I regret it. Noor is truly a wonderful girl. I was wrong with her, but now I will take care of her, I promise.)
He turned to dad. "Baba, aapko mujhse sabse zyada naraz hona chahiye, lekin ek baar mujhe maaf karke dekhiye, main waqai badal gaya hoon!"
(Baba, you should be the most upset with me, but just try forgiving me onceâI have truly changed!)
His father sighed, shaking his head, before gesturing toward him. "Aa ja."
(Come here)
Zeeshan, like an overgrown child, immediately hugged him tightly. The family finally gave in, each one of them embracing him one by one.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest.
When Zeeshan reached Hala, she crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. "Abhi bach gaye," she said playfully. "Lekin agli baar aisa kuch kiya, toh aisi treatment dungi ke seedha ho jaoge!"
(You got away this time,". "But if you do something like this again, I'll give you such a treatment that you'll straighten up!)
Zeeshan grinned. "Haan, samajh gaya, bhabhi jee," he said, suddenly throwing his arms around her.
.(Yes, I understand, Bhabhi jee (sister-in-law)
Hala's eyes widened in surprise before she sighed dramatically and patted his shoulder. "Theek hai, bas, aur kitna hug karoge? "
( "Alright, that's enough. How long are you going to keep hugging me?)
Sufiyaan, who had been watching with an amused smirk, rolled his eyes and shoved Zeeshan away. "Bas ho gaya. Let her go before she actually kills you."
That's enough. Let her go before she actually kills you.)
Hala glared at him. "Tum kyun disturb kar"
(Why are you disturbingâ)
Arrey, main bechara acha shohar hone ka farz nibha raha hoon tumhari madad kar raha hoon!" Sufiyaan said, feigning innocence.
(Hey, I'm just fulfilling my duty as a good shohar (husband) by helping you out!)
Everyone chuckled, and even I felt a little lighter seeing the mood lift. But my gaze instinctively went to Hayaan. He hadn't moved or said a word. His expression remained unreadable, his eyes locked on his plate.
Before I could dwell on it, Zeeshan turned to me, his face softening. Without warning, he hugged me tightly.
I laughed, patting his back. "Zeeshan!"
"Bhabhi, I'm really sorry. And... Thank you for being here. You're the best person ever, app nai hoti tou kuch sai nai hota " he whispered.
(if you weren't here, nothing would feel right)
I rubbed his back comfortingly, but before I could respond, we heard someone clearing their throat.
Hayaan.
Zeeshan and I immediately broke the hug and turned to look at him. He stood up from his chair, his expression still unreadable.
Zeeshan chuckled under his breath and leaned in toward me. "Bhale hi mujhse gussa hain, par jealous toh ho rahe hain," he teased.
(Even if he's mad at me, he's definitely jealous)
Zeeshan, catching my gaze, sighed. "Bhai ab bhi gussa hai, na?"
(Bhai is still angry, isn't he?)
I nodded. "Bohot."
(A lot.)
Zeeshan groaned. "Bhabhi, main abhi bhi zinda rehna chahta hoon. Yeh kaise manayenge?"
(Bhabhi, I still want to stay alive. How do I convince him?)
"Tumhe mehnat karni padegi," I said seriously. "Woh waqai tumse bohot naaraz hai."
(,You'll have to put in the effort, He's really upset with you.)
Zeeshan ran a hand through his hair. "Acha, yeh batao, volcano akele handle kaise karun? Aap ja kyun rahi hain? Kam az kam meri shield toh idhar rakho!"
(Okay, tell meâhow do I handle this volcano alone? Why are you leaving? At least leave my shield here!)
I laughed. "Tumhe apna maafi ka plan khud banana hoga."
(You'll have to come up with your own apology plan.)
Zeeshan placed his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Bhabhi, ek din aur ruk jao na! Bhai bohot darawani nazar se dekh rahe hain!"
Bhabhi, stay just one more day! Bhai is looking at me like he's ready to murder me!"
I glanced toward Hayaan, who had just stood up from his chair. His expression was unreadable, but his silence was louder than anything else.
"Main aapke car mein wait kar raha hoon," he said, his tone clipped. Without another word, he turned and walked out, not even sparing Zeeshan a glance.
(I'll wait for you in the car,)
I shook my head at him. "Woh bohot naaraaz hain. Tumhe mehnat karni padegi unko manane mein," I advised.
(He's really upset. You'll have to work hard to make it up to him,).
I exhaled, watching him leave. Zeeshan nudged me. "Mujhe ab aur bhi zyada darr lag raha hai."
(Now I am even more scared)
I smiled slightly. "Tumhe kaam bohot hai, Zeeshan. Ab tumhe prove karna padega ke tum badal gaye ho."
(You have a lot of work to do, Zeeshan. Now you have to prove that you've changed.)
He nodded, determination flickering in his eyes.
"Karoonga, bhabhi. Par pehle yeh volcano control karna padega."
I will, Bhabhi. But first, I need to handle this volcano."
Zeeshan let out a long sigh. "Bas, bhabhi. Ab toh pakka meri maut likhi ja chuki hai."
(That's it, Bhabhi. My death is officially confirmed.)
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Ab tumhe hi sab kuch theek karna hoga."
(Now it's up to you to fix everything.)
"Karunga, bhabhi, karunga," Zeeshan sighed. "Lekin volcano se bachne ki dua zaroor karna."
"I will, Bhabhi, I will," Zeeshan sighed. "But please pray that I survive this volcano."
I laughed as I picked up my hand bag. "Good luck with that."
As I made my way out, I couldn't help but steal one last glance at Noor. Standing at the balcony, her eyes met mine, and I felt a pang in my chest. I quickly walked toward her room, feeling the weight of the moment.
I bid her goodbye, and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Ap mujhe in Sab ke beech akele chod kar jarahi hain!" she said, her words carrying the weight of unspoken emotions.
(You're leaving me alone among all of them!)
I tried to comfort her the best I could. "Nai Noor, sab tumhara khayal karenge. Aur Hala bhi tou hai tumhare sath. Aur mein janti hoon tum bohot strong ho, sab handle kar logi." As I spoke, I cupped her face gently, pressing a soft kiss on her head before turning to leave.
(No, Noor, everyone will take care of you. And Hala is there with you too. Plus, I know you're very strongâyou'll handle everything just fine.)
The moment I stepped outside, I saw him.
Hayaan. Leaning against the car, his shades hiding his eyes, arms crossed, and the posture that made my heart skip a beat. My breath caught in my throat.
Why did he have to look so effortlessly perfect?
I approached him, a mix of hesitation and determination rising within me.
"Hayaan, ap zesshan se kab tak gussa rahenge? Usko ab ehsas bhi hai. Mein janti hoon, mujhe ap dono bhaiyon ke beech bolna ka haq nai hai, par ap khud bhi takleef mein hain." My words came out softer than I intended, a quiet plea for him to understand.
(Hayaan, how long will you stay angry with Zeeshan? He realizes his mistake now. I know I don't have the right to speak between the two of you, but you're also in pain.)
He leaned in, his voice low and almost intimate. "Apko mujhse judi har cheez ka haq maine diya hai. Ap kuch bhi keh sakti hain." The way he said it, so softly yet with such intensity, it sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
(I have given you the right to everything that is connected to me. You can say anything.)
Then, with a hint of finality, he continued, "Aur rahi Zeezhan ki baat, usse mein baat karunga. Is mamle ko maine handle karne ka soch liya hai." I could tell there was something more behind his words, something deep in his mind that he wasn't sharing.
(And as for Zeeshan, I will talk to him. I have decided to handle this matter myself.)
Before I could ask, my parents arrived.
"Chalen?" Hayaan asked, his voice pulling me back to reality.
(Shall we)
I couldn't help but voice my concern. "Apko kya zaroorat hai chalne ki? 4 se 6 ghante ap drive karenge, thak jayenge, Hayaan." My worry for him was evident, but his response was reassuring.
(Why do you need to come ? You'll drive for 4 to 6 hours and get tired, Hayaan.)
"Aairah, mein handle kar lunga, but apko driver ke sath akele jane dena, yeh mujhe gawara nahi. Ab ap bethiye," he said, his tone gentle but firm, as he opened the back door for me.
(Aairah, I'll handle it, but I can't bear the thought of you going alone with the driver. Now, please sit down.)
I hesitated for a moment, then slid into the seat comfortably, grateful for his care. He did the same for my mother, and my father sat beside him in the front.
Hayaan gave a subtle signal to the guards, and I saw their car begin to follow us as we drove away. There was something undeniably protective in his presence, something that felt both reassuring and... complicated.
The car ride had been nothing short of exhaustingâfor me, at least.
Hayaan and Baba were deep in a discussion about political affairs, debating policies and economic impacts as if they were solving the world's problems in this very car.
I rolled my eyes, half their words flying over my head. How could they go on and on about this?
Meanwhile, Ami had decided that now was the perfect time for a long chat in Pashto, our mother tongue. I listened, laughing softly at her stories, enjoying the warmth of our conversation. It felt comforting, like home.
But despite being engrossed in our talk, I could feel his gaze on me.
Every now and then, when I looked up at the rearview mirror, I caught him staring. His intense eyes held something unreadable, something that made my heartbeat quicken.
It had been three hours since he started driving, and I noticed him shifting slightly, rolling his shoulders, his neck tilting from side to side as if trying to ease the stiffness.
I frowned in concern but said nothing.
As I was still lost in thought, I glanced at him againâonly to find his gaze already on me.
The way he looked at me, unwavering and deep, sent an odd shiver down my spine. My cheeks flushed, my breath hitched slightly, and I quickly averted my gaze, suddenly too aware of myself.
Ami nudged me playfully. "Chup kyun ho gayi?" she asked in Pashto.
(Why did you get quite?)
"W-wasay hi," I mumbled, shaking my head.
(Just like that-)
Before I could recover from my flustered state, Baba let out a sigh. "Aairah beta, thoda thak gaya hoon, seat change kar lo. Tum aage baith jao."
(Aairah beta, I'm a bit tired, change seats. You sit in the front.)
I nodded, as the car stopped unbuckling my seatbelt and I got out.
As I settled into the passenger seat, I felt Hayaan's gaze flicker toward me for the briefest moment before he focused back on the road.
For a few moments, silence stretched between us. The hum of the car engine and the low murmur of Ami and Baba talking in the back were the only sounds filling the space.
After a while, I glanced at him and hesitated before asking, "Aapko bhook nahi lagi? Kuch doon aapko?"
(Aren't you hungry? Should I give you something)
His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, but he bit his lips and said "Khana toh chahta hoon," he replied, briefly looking at me, "but you can see my hands are busy."
(I want to eat but you can see my hands are busy)
I bit my lip "Tou ruk jaiye na, thodi dair rest bhi kar lijiye."
(Then stop for a while, take some rest.)
He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Nahi, itna door ab rukna acha nahi lagega.
(No, it won't feel right to stop now after coming this far.)
I hesitated, glancing at him before looking down at the tiffin box in my lap. My fingers fidgeted with the lid before I finally opened it, revealing the home-cooked meal my mother-in-law had lovingly packed.
Taking a soft chapati, I tore a piece, dipping it into the curry before holding it out toward him. My hands were steady, but my heart wasn't.
He glanced at me, a flicker of surprise in his deep eyes before he leaned slightly and took the bite.
His lips brushed against my fingers, a touch so fleeting yet so electrifying that I felt a shiver run down my spine. My breath hitched, but I controlled my emotions, looking away as if nothing had happened.
Silence wrapped around us as I continued feeding him, each bite making me more conscious of our proximity. The air inside the car felt thick, heavy with something unspoken.
After a few more bites, he finally shook his head slightly. "Bas," he murmured. "Itna kaafi hai."
(Stop, this is enough)
I nodded, placing the tiffin back and leaning against my seat. I hadn't even realized how exhausted I was until my eyes fluttered shut, the rhythmic movement of the car lulling me into a deep sleep.
A soft knock on the window stirred me awake.
Blinking, I slowly opened my eyes, momentarily disoriented. My surroundings had changedâthe tall trees, the familiar house standing before me... we had arrived.
Realization settled in my heart with a dull ache. He was leaving.
I turned my head to find him already outside, opening the door for me.
Stepping out, I looked up at him, my lips parting, but I couldn't find the words.
"Aajao, beta, andar aake rest kar lo," Baba urged, placing a hand on his shoulder.
(Come beta and take some rest inside)
"Haan, itni lambi drive ki hai tumne, thodi dair araam kar lo," Ami insisted.But he shook his head, a small, polite smile on his face.
(Yes, you've driven such a long distance, take some rest,)
"Shukriya, Ami. Magar safar lamba hai, mujhe nikalna chahiye. Raat ho jayegi."
"(Thank you, Ami. But the journey is long, I should leave now. It will get late.)
They tried again, but his decision was final.
As they stepped back inside, I lingered, turning to him. He looked at me, his gaze unreadable.
"Ap rukenge nai?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.
(Won't you stay?"
His brow raised slightly. "App chahti hai ke main rukun?"
(Do you want me to stay?)
His question caught me off guard. I parted my lips but found myself at a loss. At one point, I wanted him to stayâI wanted his presence, the warmth he unknowingly carried. But another part of me needed space. A moment to think, to clear my mind.
My fingers played with the edge of my dupatta, my nervousness evident.
He took a slow step closer, lifting the dupatta from my hands and placing it gently over my head. His touch lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against my forehead.
"You don't have to say anything," he murmured. "Main samajhta hoon."
(I can understand)
His voice was soft, yet it carried an understanding that made my heart ache.
Then, before I could react, his warm hand rested on the nape of my neck, his thumb grazing my skin so lightly it sent a wave of shivers through me.
I closed my eyes involuntarily, my breath caught in my throat.
And then, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead.
"Apna khayal rakhna," he whispered against my skin.
(Take care of yourself)
He pulled back, his gaze searching mine for a moment before he took a step away.
"Khuda Hafiz," he said gently, before turning toward the car.
I only managed a nod, stepping back as he gestured for me to go inside.
For some reason, my feet felt heavier as I walked in, the ache in my chest growing stronger. But the moment I stepped inside, I turned back, running toward the balcony.
I looked down just in time to see him settling into the back seat, while a guard took the driver's position.
It hit me thenâhe wasn't just my husband or my in-laws' son anymore.
He was the Chief Minister now. A leader, a protector, a man with responsibilities far beyond what I had imagined.
And yet, for those brief moments, he had still been just Hayaan.
A sigh escaped my lips, my vision blurring slightly.
I watched until his car disappeared from sight.
And only then did I allow the weight of my emotions to settle in.
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