Here goes the chapter because from today Ramdan is starting updates will be posted only when the target is full complete- And the target is the same 1k votes and 800+ comments -
As I rested my head against Sufiyaan's shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, a quiet war waged inside me.
As we sat there, my thoughts wandered idly. If he were beside me, we would have endless conversations, and we would spend our lives together just like this.
The night was beautifulâcalm and still, with the scent of jasmine lingering in the airâbut my heart was anything but.
I could feel his warmth, the way his fingers intertwined with mine, grounding me, silently telling me that I was safe. But even safety couldn't chase away the storm inside me.
I wanted to speak. To tell him everything. To let him see the parts of me I kept hidden behind smiles and deflections. But fear kept my lips sealed.
Then, as if sensing my hesitation, he gently placed my hand over his heart.
"Hala, tum jo chaaho keh sakti ho. I won't judge you." (Hala, you can say whatever you want. I won't judge you.)
His voice was a soft reassurance, laced with a sincerity that made my chest ache.
I hesitated, my fingers curling slightly in his hold.
"Mujhe pata hai..." (I know...) I whispered, my voice barely audible over the night breeze. "But I feel like you might think I'm weak. That I'm stuck on things I should have let go of long ago."
Sufiyaan turned his head toward me, his gaze unwavering, deep, searching. Before I could look away, his hand came up, cradling my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that nearly unraveled me.
"Bilkul nahi. Tum mere liye tab bhi fiery thi, ab bhi ho, aur hamesha raho gi." (Not at all. To me, you were fiery back then, you still are, and you always will be.)
His words struck something deep inside meâsomething fragile, something I had spent years convincing myself didn't exist anymore. I wanted to believe him, to let myself fall into the safety of his words, but doubt had its claws in me.
I looked away, my gaze lost in the darkness stretching beyond the rooftop. The mountains stood tall and silent, as if they had all the answers I sought but refused to share them.
And then, before I could stop myself, the question left my lips.
"Sufiyaan, jaise mohabbat tum mujhse karte ho... hamesha karoge na? Kabhi chhodo ge toh nahi mujhe?"
(Sufiyaan, the way you love me... will you always love me? You won't ever leave me, right?)
The silence that followed made my heart stutter. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer.
But then he tilted my face back toward him, forcing me to meet his eyesâeyes that held nothing but raw, unshakable devotion.
"Meri dil ki dhadkan aur saans band ho jaayegi agar maine kabhi aisa kiya toh, Hala. Aur bina saans ke koi jee sakta hai kya? Toh main tumhare bina kaise jeeunga, haan?"
(My heartbeat and breath will stop if I ever do that, Hala. And can anyone live without breath? Then how would I live without you, hmm?)
A wobbly smile tugged at my lips, but I knew my eyes betrayed me. They always did.
I inhaled sharply, trying to steady the tremble in my voice, but the truth was too heavy to keep inside any longer.
"Koi kisi ke bina nahi marta, Sufiyaan... Yeh toh maine seekh liya hai. Jaise mohabbat tum mujhse karte ho... shayad waise hi maine bhi kabhi kisi se ki thi."
(No one dies without someone, Sufiyaan... I've learned that much. The way you love me... maybe once, I also loved someone the same way.)
His fingers tightened around mine, the warmth of his grip unable to stop the cold creeping into my chest.
I felt his silence, his quiet unease. He didn't like where this was going.
Neither did I.
"Jiske liye mera dil kabhi dhadakta tha... usi ne mujhe sabse gehra zakham diya."
(The one my heart once beat for... was the one who gave me the deepest wound.)
My voice wavered, but I pushed forward. If I stopped now, I'd never be able to say it.
So I told him everything.
How the person I had once loved had betrayed me in the cruelest way possible. How the one I had trusted most had shattered me without a second thought.
How he had cheated on me. How my own best friend had been the one he chose to betray me with. How the people I had considered my safe place had turned into my biggest nightmare.
I told him about the nights spent drowning in my own tears, the days spent pretending I was fine while something inside me crumbled. How, for the longest time, I had wondered if I had been the problem. If I hadn't been enough. If something in me had been so fundamentally flawed that it had driven him away.
And how, even now, despite the time that had passed, despite the walls I had built around myself, I still carried the scars.
By the time I finished, my vision was blurred with tears, my breath hitching as the weight of my own words crushed me.
I didn't even realize I was clutching onto Sufiyaan until I felt his arms wrap around meâwarm, steady, unwavering. I buried myself into his chest, my tears soaking into his shirt as silent sobs shook my body.
And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to break.
My heart clenched so painfully I could barely breathe.
That bastard. That so-called friend.
They didn't just break her heart. They shattered a pure soul.
My jaw tightened, and I clenched my fists so hard that my knuckles turned white. My veins pulsed with rage, the thought of them walking around, breathing, laughingâ**livingâ**while she had suffered alone made my blood boil.
I wanted to find them. I wanted to break them.
I wish to make him rip apart.
To make them feel every ounce of the pain they had inflicted on her.
But right now, my anger wasn't what she needed. She needed me.
I forced myself to take a breath, suppressing the storm inside me as I held her closer, my hand running over her hair gently.
"Hala..." My voice was barely a whisper, filled with nothing but warmth.
She sniffled against my chest, her fingers clutching my shirt like she was holding on for dear life.
"Mujhe kabhi laga nahi tha ke yeh sab kisi ko bata paungi... but tumhare saath..."
(I never thought I would be able to tell anyone all this... but with you...)
She hesitated before continuing, "Tumhare saath safe mehsoos hota hai, Sufiyaan."
(With you, I feel safe, Sufiyaan.)
Something inside me cracked at those words.
I closed my eyes for a second, swallowing past the lump in my throat, before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"Tum hamesha safe raho gi, Hala. Jab tak main hoon, koi tumhe dukh nahi de sakta."
(You will always be safe, Hala. As long as I am here, no one can hurt you.)
She lifted her head slightly, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine. I raised my hand to wipe her tears away, my fingers lingering on her face longer than necessary.
"Aur tumhe ek baat bataun?" I said, attempting to lighten the moment.
And shall I tell you something?)
She sniffled, frowning slightly. "Kya?" (What?)
I smirked. "Tum jab roti ho na, tab bhi khoobsurat lagti ho." (Even when you cry, you look beautiful.)
A watery chuckle escaped her lips as she smacked my chest lightly. "Bohat filmy ho, Sufiyaan."
(You're very filmy, Sufiyaan.)
I grinned, shrugging. "Kya karein, mohabbat bhi filmy hi hai."
(What can I do? Love itself is filmy.)
She shook her head, a small smile finally forming on her lips. And in that moment, I promised myselfâI would replace every tear she had shed with endless laughter, every wound with love, and every fear with security.
As I held her close, feeling her small sniffles against my chest, I thought she had finished. That she had shared all the pain, let it all out. But then, she took a shuddering breath, and I felt her body tense again.
There was more.
I waited, not pushing her, just holding her in the warmth of my arms. After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke, her voice trembling
.
"Jab sab kuch samne aaya... jab mujhe pata chala ke sirf uss ladke ne nahi, balki meri sabse kareebi dost ne bhi mujhe dhoka diya..."
(When everything came to light... when I found out that not just that boy, but even my closest friend had betrayed me...)
She paused, clenching the fabric of my shirt tightly in her fists.
"Mujhe laga tha ke kam se kam meri family mere saath hogi. Mere maa-baap, mere bhai... woh toh mere apne the na?"
(I thought at least my family would be with me. My parents, my brother... they were my own, right?)
She let out a shaky, bitter laugh that sent a chill down my spine.
"Par unhone bhi mujhe hi doshi thehraya, Sufiyaan." (But even they blamed me, Sufiyaan.)
I froze.
"Unka kehna tha ke shayad mujh mein hi koi kami thi. Ke agar usne mujhe chhoda, toh zaroor maine kuch galat kiya hoga."
(They said maybe there was something lacking in me. That if he left me, then surely I must have done something wrong.)
Her words made my blood run cold. My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I forced myself to stay calmâfor her.
"Meri maa ne kaha... ke ladkiyon ka dukh chupane mein hi bhala hota hai. Mere abbu ne kaha ke izzat pe daag lag gaya hai, aur mujhe is ghar se door chale jaana chahiye. (My mother said... that it's better for girls to hide their pain. My father said that my honor was stained, and I should leave this house.)
Her breath hitched.
I could feel the raw hurt in her voice. The heartbreak of being betrayed was one thing, but to be abandoned by the very people who were supposed to protect her? That was another kind of pain.
She let out a slow exhale. "Aur bas... mujhe bhej diya gaya. Ek nayi jagah, naye logon ke beech. Jahan koi mujhe jaanta bhi nahi tha, jahan mujhe sirf khud ko sambhalna tha, bina kisi sahare ke."
(And then... they sent me away. To a new place, among new people. Where no one knew me, where I had to take care of myself alone, without any support.)
She looked up at me then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Tabhi shayad mujhe duniya pe bharosa uth gaya, Sufiyaan. Tabhi shayad mujhe pyaar jhoot lagta hai."
(Maybe that's why I lost faith in the world, Sufiyaan. Maybe that's why love feels like a lie to me.)
My jaw was locked, my entire body rigid with barely controlled rage. They sent her away? Instead of standing by her, they threw her out like she was the one who did something wrong?
I wanted to go to them. I wanted to look into their eyes and ask themâhow could they? How could they throw away their own daughter, their own blood, just because the world pointed fingers?
I swallowed the anger, pushing it down because right now wasn't the time for my rageâit was time for her healing.
I reached out and cupped her face, my thumb brushing away the lone tear that had slipped down her cheek.
"Hala, suno..."
(Hala, listen...)
My voice was hoarse, thick with emotions. "Tum galat nahi thi. Tum kabhi galat nahi thi. Galat woh log the jo tumse pyar karne ka daawa karte the, par ek pal mein tumhe akela chhod diya."
(You weren't wrong. You were never wrong. The ones who claimed to love you were wrongâthey abandoned you in a moment.)
Her lower lip trembled, and I knew she was holding back more tears.
I exhaled deeply before speaking again. "Aur pyaar jhoot nahi hota, Hala. Galat insaan jhoothe hote hain. Tumne bas galat insaan se mohabbat kar li thi... Lekin ab tumhare paas sahi insaan hai."
(And love isn't a lie, Hala. The wrong people are liars. You just loved the wrong person... But now, you have the right one.)
She looked at me, something fragile in her expression. "Aur woh kaun hai?"
(And who is that?)
I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Main."
(Me.)
She blinked, her lips parting slightly as if she wasn't expecting my answer.
"Tumhare saath khud se bhi zyada wafadar rehne wala insaan."
(The person who will be more loyal to you than even himself.)
I continued, my voice full of conviction. "Jo tumhe sirf pyaar nahi karega, balki tumhare saare zakham apna samajhkar bharne ki koshish karega."
(Who won't just love you, but will try to heal all your wounds as if they were his own.)
A tear finally slipped down her cheek, but this time, there was something different in her eyes. Not just painâsomething else.
Maybe... hope.
I pulled her into me again, wrapping my arms around her tightly, as if shielding her from every wound the world had given her.
"Tum akeli nahi ho, Hala. Ab kabhi nahi."
(You are not alone, Now never)
And I meant every single word.
As I held her close, feeling her breathe against my chest, a thought crossed my mind.
In Zeeshan's wedding, I had noticed it tooâhow distant she was from her own family. How she barely acknowledged them, how she kept her interactions short, almost like she was forcing herself to be civil.
And now, knowing what they had done to her... it all made sense.
I gently pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes. "Hala... is that why? Is that why you don't interact with them much? Even in Zeeshan's wedding?"
She stiffened slightly. I could see the way her throat bobbed, the way her fingers twitched in her lap.
For a moment, she didn't answer.
Then, she exhaled, her gaze shifting away from mine as she played with the ring on her finger. "Mujhe nahi pata..." she muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
(I don't know)
I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. "Sach bolo, Hala."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Bas... main nahi chahti thi ke woh sochein ke sab kuch theek hai. Ke jo unhone kiya uska koi asar nahi pada mujhpe."
(I just... I don't want them to think that everything is fine.) (That what they did had no effect on me.)
She paused, and then let out a bitter chuckle. "Ya phir shayad main bas unn rishton se door rehna chahti hoon jinhone mujhe majboor samjha, mujhe galat kaha... jinhone mujhe paraya samajh liya."
(Or maybe... I just want to stay away from the relationships that saw me as weak, that called me wrong... the ones that treated me like an outsider.)
My chest tightened.
She had every right to feel this way. How could she be expected to behave normally with people who had abandoned her when she needed them the most? Who had thrown her away instead of standing by her?
"Aur jab unhone dekha ke main unse alag ho gayi hoon, ke main waisi nahi rahi jo ek waqt pe unki khushi ke liye sab kuch sun leti thi... toh unhone sirf mujhe doshi thehraya- Ke main badal gayi hoon. Ke main ziddi ho gayi hoon
. (And when they saw that I had distanced myself from them, that I was no longer the same person who used to listen to everything just to keep them happy... they simply blamed me.That I had changed. That I had become stubborn.)
I could hear the slight frustration in her voice, the lingering hurt, the anger buried under years of silence.
I placed my hand over hers, making her look at me again. "Aur tumhe kya lagta hai, Hala?"
(And what do you think, Hala?)
She frowned. "Matlab?" (What do you mean?)
I held her gaze firmly. "Kya tum waqai badal gayi ho?"
(Have you really changed?)
She hesitated for a second before answering.
"Haan." (Yes.)
. "Main badal gayi hoon. Pehle main unki baatein sun leti thi, chup reh jaati thi... ab nahi.
(I have changed. I used to listen to them, stay quiet... not anymore.)
Ab mujhe apni izzat aur apni jagah pyari hai. Ab main un logon ke liye nahi badhakti jo mujhe apna nahi samajhte."
(Now, I value my self-respect and my place. Now, I don't fight for the people who don't consider me their own.)
A small, proud smile tugged at my lips. "Aur yeh buri baat kab se ho gayi?"
(And since when did that become a bad thing?)
She blinked, as if taken aback by my response.
I let out a breath, shaking my head slightly. "Hala, tum badli nahi ho. Tum bas ab apni value jaanti ho.
(Hala, you haven't changed. You've just learned your own worth.)
"Tumhe ab yeh pata hai ke tumhari jagah sirf tab tak nahi hai jab tak log tumse apni marzi ka kaam le sakte hain. Tumne sirf khud ko prioritize karna seekha hai."
(You now know that your place isn't only valid as long as people can use you for their own needs. You've simply learned to prioritize yourself.)
She stared at me for a long moment, as if letting my words sink in.
And then, she smiled. A small, soft, grateful smile.
It wasn't much, but I knew... this was a start.
The silence between us was no longer heavy with painâit was filled with something else now. Something new. Something delicate and precious.
Hala was still looking at me, her deep eyes reflecting the fairy lights around us. But this time, there was no hesitation, no fear. Just warmth. Just... love.
Her fingers slightly curled over mine, as if testing the waters, as if silently telling me something she wasn't able to say out loud.
And then, in a voice so soft that the wind almost carried it away, she whispered, "Sufiyaan... mujhe laga tha ke main phir kabhi pyaar nahi kar sakti."
(Sufiyaan... I thought I could never love again.)
My breath hitched.
She took a deep breath, her gaze not wavering from mine. "Lekin phir tum aaye."
(But then you came.)
Something inside me stirred. My heart pounded loudly in my chest, a rhythmic sound that only intensified as she continued.
"Mujhe nahi pata yeh kab hua... kaise hua.Bas itna jaanti hoon ke jab bhi tum paas hote ho, mujhe apni tanhaayi mehsoos nahi hoti. Jab tum mujhe dekhte ho, mujhe lagta hai jaise main waqai kisi ki apni hoon."
(I don't know when it happened... or how it happened. All I know is that whenever you're near, I don't feel alone. When you look at me, I feel like I truly belong to someone.)
She swallowed, her eyes glistening. "Tum meri hifazat sirf ek zimmedaari samajh ke nahi karte, tum mujhe ek insaan samajh ke karte ho. Mujhe samajhna chahte ho, mujhe mehsoos karna chahte ho... aur yeh sab mere liye naye hai."
(You don't protect me just as a responsibility, you protect me because you see me as a person. You want to understand me, you want to feel what I feel... and all of this is new to me.)
She paused, inhaling deeply before whispering, "Main tumse mohabbat karne lagi hoon, Sufiyaan."
(I've started to love you, Sufiyaan.)
For a second, my entire world stilled.
And then, a slow, overwhelming warmth spread through my chest.
She loved me.
The girl I had spent so long yearning for, the woman I had desperately wanted to make mine... she had finally given me her heart.
I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her words settle inside me. And when I opened them again, she was still there, watching me with that same breathtaking expression.
I couldn't resist anymore.
I lifted my hand, gently cupping the side of her face. My thumb brushed against her cheek, and she leaned into my touch as if she had been waiting for it.
Slowly, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against her forehead, lingering there, wanting her to feel the depth of my emotions.
When I pulled away, I moved down, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. I felt the way she shivered slightly, the way her grip on my hand tightened.
My gaze finally settled on her lipsâthose beautiful red lips that had been driving me crazy all night.
Desire stirred inside me, but I pushed it back. This wasn't just about wanting her. This was about loving her.
I looked into her eyes, giving her the chance to stop me. "Hala...?"
She didn't say anything. Instead, she blinked slowly, her cheeks burning with a shy blush.
Her silent permission was all I needed.
I leaned in, closing the distance between us, my lips brushing against hers softly, testing, waiting.
And then, she kissed me back.
A slow, gentle meeting of lips, filled with every unsaid word, every stolen glance, every hidden feeling we had been carrying inside us.
Her fingers clutched my shirt as I pulled her closer, deepening the kiss just slightly, savoring the warmth, the sweetness of her. She tasted like everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever longed for.
And in that moment, I knewâshe was mine. And I was hers. Completely.
As we pulled away from the kiss, she shyly hid her face in my chest, her warm breath tickling my neck. I smirked, holding her tighter, feeling an unexplainable satisfaction in my heart. She was here, in my arms, truly mine.
The night air was cool, but with her warmth against me, I felt nothing but comfort. The soft fairy lights cast a golden glow around us as we sat on the floor, wrapped up in each other.
I let out a dramatic sigh, breaking the silence. "Mujhe ek baat pasand nahi aayi, Hala."
(I didn't like one thing)
She looked up at me, confused. "Kya?"
(what?)
I pouted like a child. "Yeh jo baat hai na ke main tumhara pehla pyaar nahi hoon, mujhe bilkul pasand nahi."
(That one thing that I am not your first love I didn't like it)
She blinked at me before laughing softly, shaking her head. "Sufiyaan, tum..."
She giggled, tapping my nose playfully. "Tum bilkul ek chhote bachhe ki tarah behave kar rahe ho."
(You are behaving like a child)
I gasped, placing a hand on my chest dramatically. "Acha? Toh ab tum mujhe bacha keh rahi ho?"
(Oh now you are calling me a child?
She bit her lip to stop from laughing. "Haan, ek cute sa, possessive sa bachha."
(Yeah a cute and possessive kid)
I narrowed my eyes at her, but before I could respond, she cupped my face, her fingers tracing my jaw lightly. Her eyes softened as she whispered.
"Tum pehle nahi ho Sufiyaan, lekin..."
She paused, letting the moment stretch before continuing, "Tum zaroor mere aakhri ho."
(You are not my first Sufiyaan but you are definitely my last)
I stared at her, my heart thudding loudly against my chest. Her last.
There was something in the way she said it that made my entire world stop.
She leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aur ek baat bolun?"
(Should I say something more)
I swallowed, my grip around her tightening. "Bolo."
(Say)
A small, teasing smile played on her lips. "Meri pehli kiss toh tumhare saath hui hai."
(My first kiss is with you)
I blinked. Once. Twice. And then, the meaning of her words fully sank in.
A huge grin broke out on my face. "Sach?"
(Really?)
She nodded, laughing at my expression. "Sach."
"Tou batao na, kaisa laga? Humari kiss?" I wiggled my eyebrows teasingly.
(So tell me, how did you find our kiss?)
She shook her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Bohat buri, maza nahi aya."
(Really bad, I didn't enjoy it.)
I gasped dramatically, clutching my chest. "Ouch, that hurts."
Then, without missing a beat, I grinned and pulled her closer. "Acha phir, ek aur karni chahiye. This time, it would be better. Come."
(Alright then, we should do it again. This time, it'll be better. Come.)
Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as she stared at me.
She let out a laugh, pushing my face away. "Tum bohat irritating ho."
I smirked. "Aur tum meri ho."
She shook her head, resting it back against my chest, her fingers playing with mine. We sat there, in comfortable silence, our laughter still lingering in the air, our hearts beating in sync.
The stars above shined brightly, the wind whispered around us, and somewhere in between our soft conversations and teasing banter, we didn't even realize when we fell asleep in each other's arms.
At dawn, my eyes fluttered open. I turned to look at herâshe was sleeping peacefully beside me, her breathing soft and steady. A small smile tugged at my lips as I leaned closer, my lips just inches from her ear.
"Wake up, gorgeous. Let's head home," I whispered.
She mumbled something incoherent before shifting slightly. "Take me, please," she murmured sleepily, her voice barely above a whisper.
I chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "As you wish."
Carefully, I slid my arms under her and lifted her into my embrace. She nestled closer against my chest, her warmth seeping into me. Holding her securely, I walked back home, feeling a strange sense of peaceâlike I was exactly where I was meant to be.
I was sitting with Dada Jee, laughing as he told one of his old stories, the kind that made everyone around him smile. Being with him, with all of them, felt... different. Warmer. Kinder. I never expected to feel so comfortable here, in this house, with this family. But somehow, they had accepted me so easily, treating me like one of their own.
And I realized somethingâI couldn't blame them for what he did. It wasn't their fault. They had nothing to do with it. They were genuinely good people, and no matter how much I wanted to hold on to my anger, I couldn't direct it at them.
But Zeeshan? That was a different story.
My attention went to dada jee back again.
"You know, Noor beta," he began, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia, "Zeeshan bohot ziddi hai, lekin uska dil saaf hai. Tumhari dadi bhi kabhi aise hi the."
(Zeeshan is very stubborn, but he has a pure heart. Your grandmother was once just like this too.)
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Aap bhi Zeeshan jaise the?" I teased, trying to imagine an impulsive, stubborn version of Dada Jee.
(were you like Zeshaan)
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nahi, bilkul ulta. Main toh bohot sharmeela tha, chup rehne wala. Aur tumhari Dado? Hai Allah! Woh ek tufaan thi.
(No, completely the opposite. I was very shy, always quiet. And your Dado? Oh God! He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. She was a storm.)
I couldn't help but laugh at the way his face lit up. "Sach? Dado rowdy thi?" (Really? Dado was rowdy?)
"Bohot. Jab pehli baar dekha tha usko, tabhi samajh gaya tha ke woh meri zindagi hila ke rakh degi. Aur bilkul wahi kiya usne."
(A lot. The first time I saw her, I knew she would turn my life upside down. And that's exactly what she did.)
I leaned in, eager to hear more. "Phir? Aapne unse kaise shaadi ki?"
(Then? How did you marry her?)
He sighed, shaking his head as if reliving the memory. "Main toh kabhi keh hi nahi paata. Sab log kehte the ke main shareef tha, tameezdaar tha, lekin asal mein... main bas darpok tha. Apni feelings express karna nahi aata tha. Aur tumhari Dado? Usne kabhi kisi se permission nahi li."
(I could never say it. Everyone used to say I was decent, well-mannered, but the truth is... I was just a coward. I didn't know how to express my feelings. And your Dado? She never asked anyone for permission.)
I laughed again, picturing a young, shy Dada Jee and a bold, fearless Dado.
"Ek din," he continued, "woh mere samne aayi, hath kamar pe rakh kar boli, 'Agar tumne mujhse abhi shaadi nahi ki, toh kisi aur se kar lungi!'"
(One day, she came up to me, put her hands on her hips, and said, 'If you don't marry me right now, I'll marry someone else!')
My mouth fell open. "Dado ne khud propose kiya tha?" (Dado proposed herself?)
"Bilkul!" (Absolutely!) He chuckled.
"Aur mujhe toh aur koi option hi nahi diya. Kaha, 'Ya toh meri shadi ki mithai khilao, ya apni shadi ki mujhe khila dena.' Bas, us din mujhe samajh aaya ke kabhi kabhi pyar chupane ka nahi, kehne ka hota hai."
(And she didn't give me any other option. She said, 'Either treat me to sweets for my wedding or let me eat sweets at yours.' That day, I understood that love isn't always about hidingâit's about expressing.)
"Something about his words struck a nerve inside me. Love wasn't always about waiting for the right moment. Sometimes, it was about grabbing it, about being brave enough to admit what was in your heart.
My mind drifted to Zeeshan, to the way he kept trying, kept pushing, even when I refused to give in. I quickly shook the thought away. No. He didn't deserve an easy way out. He needed to fight for it.
And yet, as I looked at Dada Jee's warm, knowing smile, I couldn't help but wonderâwas I holding on to my anger because I wanted to, or because I was scared of what would happen if I let it go?
I didn't have an answer.
Dadi entered the room, wiping her hands on the edge of her dupatta. "Kya ho raha hai yahan?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Dada Jee with playful suspicion.
(what's happening here?)
Dada Jee leaned back in his chair, smiling.
"Bas, Noor se apni mohabbat ki kahani suna raha hoon."
(Just telling Noor the story of our love.)
Dadi scoffed, sitting down beside me. "Haye Allah! Mohabbat? Yeh sharmeele insaan ki mohabbat sunne layak nahi hai..
(Oh God! Love? This shy man's love story isn't even worth listening to.)
She turned to me, shaking her head. "Beta, tumhe sach sunna hai toh mujhse suno."
(Dear, if you want to hear the truth, listen to me.)
I laughed, glancing between them. "Sach?" I asked, intrigued.
(The truth?)
"Haan!" Dadi huffed, giving Dada Jee a mock glare. "Yeh kehte hain na ke mujhe dekhte hi pyar ho gaya? Jhoot! Yeh toh dar ke mare mujhse baat bhi nahi karte the."
(Yes! He says he fell in love with me at first sight? Lies! He was too scared to even talk to me.)
Dada Jee chuckled, shaking his head. "Dar nahi, izzat karta tha."
(Not scaredâjust respected you.)
Dadi waved a dismissive hand. "Haan, haan, bohot izzat karta tha. Itni izzat ke do saal tak ek shabd bhi nahi bola!"
(Oh yes, so much respect that he didn't say a single word for two years!)
I gasped. "Do saal?"
(Two years?)
Dada Jee sighed dramatically. "Kya karta? Tumhari Dado toh har waqt sabko daant-ti rehti thi. Mujhe laga, kahin haan bol diya toh mujhe bhi daantna shuru kar degi!"
(What could I do? Your Dado was always scolding people. I thought if I said yes, she'd start scolding me too!)
Dadi smacked his arm lightly. "Chup kar jayen! Main daant-ti nahi thi, bas samjha rahi hoti thi."
(Oh, be quiet! I wasn't scolding, I was just explaining things.)
"Bas samjha rahi hoti thi?" Dada Jee raised an eyebrow. "Mujhse bola tha na, 'Abhi shaadi nahi ki toh kisi aur se kar lungi!' Yeh samjhana tha?"
(Just explaining things? You told me, 'If you don't marry me now, I'll marry someone else!' Was that just explaining?)
Dadi crossed her arms, lifting her chin proudly. "Aur kya karti? Agar apki shakal dekh kar intezar karti, toh aaj tak meri shaadi nahi hoti!"
(And what else was I supposed to do? If I had waited for you and your hesitant face, I'd still be unmarried today!)
I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself. Their banter was the most entertaining thing I had ever seen. The way they bickered, teased, and still looked at each other with so much loveâit was beautiful.
Dada Jee sighed dramatically. "Bas, yeh hai meri kahani. Ek rowdy ladki ne ek shareef ladke ko zabardasti shaadi ke liye mana liya."
(And that's my story. A rowdy girl forced a well-mannered boy into marriage.)
Dadi smirked. "Aur wohi rowdy ladki aaj bhi apke bina ek din nahi reh sakti.
(And that same rowdy girl can't spend a single day without you now.)
Dada Jee's teasing expression softened for a moment as he looked at her, and I felt something warm settle in my chest. Love like thisâit was rare. The kind that lasted through the years, through the fights, through every stubborn moment.
I wanted to say something, but before I could, Dadi turned to me with a knowing look. "Waise, Noor, tu bhi mujhe mere jawani ki yaad dila rahi hai."
(By the way, Noor, you remind me of my younger days.)
I blinked. "Main? Kyun?"
(Me? Why?)
Dadi smirked. "Kyunki jis tarah tu Zeeshan se ladti hai na, mujhe pakka yakeen hai ke ek din woh bhi meri tarah tujhe majboor kar dega apni baat maan-ne par."
(Because the way you fight with Zeeshan, I'm certain that one day, just like me, he'll make you give in to him.)
I coughed, my cheeks heating up. "Dadi!"
Dada Jee laughed heartily while Dadi just gave me a wink.
I shook my head, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down, I couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips.
I knew he was trying. Every time our eyes met, there was something unspoken in his gazeâa silent plea, a quiet apology.
He wanted me to forgive him, to give him a chance. But no, I wasn't going to make it that easy for him.
Main usko asani se maaf nahi karungi. (I won't forgive him so easily.)
He needed to understand what he had done. He needed to feel the weight of it, to truly earn my forgiveness.
And yet, despite everything... despite the betrayal, the hurt, the anger burning inside meâI still couldn't rip him out of my heart.
I hated myself for that.
No matter how much I tried to ignore it, push it away, deny itâI knew. There was something about him, something that still had a hold over me, and it made me furious. How could I still have feelings for someone who had hurt me? Someone I should despise?
Shaking off the thoughts, I made my way to my room, hoping to get a moment to breathe. But as soon as I stepped inside, I froze.
My breath hitched as my eyes landed on him.
Zeeshan stood in front of the mirror, shirtless, struggling to wrap a bandage around his wound. His broad back flexed as he winced, his fingers fumbling with the cloth, frustration evident in the way his muscles tensed.
My heart lurched in a way I despised.
Why do I care? I scolded myself, fingers tightening at my sides. He deserved this... didn't he?
My heart pounded, an involuntary reaction I despised. Heat crept up my neck as I struggled to tear my gaze away from him. What the hell is he doing?
Just as I was about to scream, I noticed him wince, hissing in pain. He was struggling to dress his woundâthe very wound I had given him. His fingers fumbled with the bandage, his jaw clenched, frustration evident in his face.
I should've looked away. I should've turned around and walked out, ignored him like he didn't exist. But for some reason, I couldn't move.
He exhaled sharply, his body stiffening as he tried again, only to flinch when the fabric pressed against his skin.
Something twisted inside me. Guilt? No. He deserved this. Right?
Then why did it feel so hard to watch?
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remember why I was angry, why I couldn't soften toward him. But my heartâmy stupid, foolish heartâwas already betraying me.
Just as I convinced myself to turn around and leave, his voice broke the silence.
"Tum chaho toh madad kar sakti ho," he muttered, his tone laced with exhaustion, yet carrying that familiar teasing edge.
("If you want, you can help," he muttered, his tone exhausted yet teasing.)
I stiffened. "Tumse jo hua hai, uske baad bhi tum mujhse madad expect kar rahe ho?"
("After everything you've done, you still expect me to help you?")
A breathy chuckle left his lips. "Tumne hi toh maara hai. Tumhari responsibility banti hai.
("You're the one who hit me. It's your responsibility.")
I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "Mujhe farq nahi padta."
("I don't care.")
He turned slightly, his dark, knowing eyes locking onto mine. "Lag toh raha hai farq padta hai."
("It seems like you do care.")
My heartbeat stuttered. I hated that he could read me so easily.
I scoffed, masking the unwanted rush of guilt bubbling inside me. "Main doctor nahi hoon."
("I'm not a doctor.")
His lips curled into a lazy smirk. "Bas thodi der ke liye insaan ban jao."
("Just be human for a little while.")
I clenched my jaw. The audacity of this man. Even injured, even after everything he had done, he still had that arrogance in him. He still knew exactly how to get under my skin.
I should've left him there. I should've turned away. But something about the way he was struggling, the way his fingers trembled slightly as he tried to tie the bandageâit stopped me.
With an irritated sigh, I walked over and snatched the bandage from his hands. "Baitho," I ordered.
("Sit down.")
He quirked a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Jab tum order deti ho, toh ajeeb sa sukoon milta hai."
("When you give orders, it feels strangely peaceful.")
I rolled my eyes. "Chup karo."
("Shut up.")
His smirk deepened, but he sat down. I kneeled on the bed beside him, forcing myself to ignore the warmth radiating from his skin as I pressed the bandage against his wound. He inhaled sharply, muscles twitching beneath my touch.
I should have been satisfied seeing him in pain. After all, I had done this to him. He deserved it.
Then why did my hands tremble slightly as I wrapped the bandage?
"Zyada tight bandh rahi ho, Noor," he murmured, his voice lower now, rough with pain.
("You're tying it too tight, Noor.")
I yanked the bandage a little harder just to prove a point. "Acha? Aur tight bandh doon?"
("Oh really? Should I tie it even tighter?")
He let out a short chuckle, but it faded quickly as I leaned in closer to adjust the wrap.
The air shifted between us.
I could feel the heat of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath. My own heartbeat betrayed me, hammering against my ribs. His scentâfamiliar, intoxicatingâwrapped around me, making it impossible to focus.
Zeeshan's gaze flickered down to my face, watching me closely. "Tum jitna bhi gussa kar lo, Noor," he said softly, "tumhe farq padta hai."
("No matter how much you act angry, Noor, you do care.")
I froze, my fingers stilling against his skin.
My breath caught in my throat as I lifted my eyes to meet his. His expression was unreadableâserious, intense, like he was searching for something in me.
I swallowed hard, trying to will my pulse back to normal. "Tumse farq nahi padta," I lied, forcing my hands to continue wrapping the bandage.
("I don't care about you.")
His lips tilted up slightly, as if he saw right through me. "Sach?"
("Really?")
I tightened the last knot on his bandage and moved to step away, desperate to put some distance between us. But before I could react, strong hands gripped my waist, and in one swift motion, I was pulled forwardâlanding right onto his lap.
A shocked gasp escaped my lips as my hands instinctively flew to his shoulders to steady myself. My heart thundered in my chest, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him in disbelief.
"Zeeshanâ" I started, my voice breathless, but he just smirked, holding me in place effortlessly.
"Tumne meri madad ki, Noor. Ab itni bhi jaldi kya hai bhaagne ki?" His voice was low, teasing, but there was something deeper in itâsomething that made my pulse quicken.
("You helped me, Noor. What's the hurry to run away now?")
I clenched my jaw, trying to regain control of the situation. "Chhodo mujhe," I hissed, attempting to move off him, but his grip on my waist tightened just enough to keep me there.
("Let me go.")
"Chhod dunga," he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine. "Lekin pehle bandage theek se bando. Tumne sirf pain diya hai, ab thoda dyaan bhi rakh lo."
("I will. But first, fix the bandage properly. You only gave me pain, now at least take some care too.")
I narrowed my eyes, pressing my palms against his chest to push away, but the warmth of his skin beneath my hands made me freeze. Focus, Noor!
Swallowing down my frustration and the unwelcome heat creeping up my neck, I huffed.
"Theek se baitho."
("Sit properly.")
His lips twitched, but he obeyed. I grabbed the bandage again, adjusting it properly, my hands moving with more force than necessary just to prove a point. He flinched slightly but said nothing.
Just as I was about to finish, a few strands of my hair fell forward, brushing against my face, tickling my cheek. I shook my head in irritation, trying to move them away, but before I could, Zeeshan reached up.
My breath hitched as his fingers gently tucked the strands behind my ear.
His touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down my spine. I went completely still.
"There," he murmured, his fingers lingering for a second too long before trailing back down.
I forced myself to ignore the way my skin tingled where he had touched me. He doesn't affect me. He doesn't affect me.
But my racing heartbeat betrayed me.
I quickly finished tying the bandage and finally pushed against his chest, harder this time. "Ab chhodo."
("Now let go.")
A slow smirk spread across his lips, but he finally let go of my waist. The moment he did, I stood up abruptly, stepping away as if his touch had burned me.
He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes watching me with that same unreadable intensity. "Itni jaldi bhaag rahi ho, Noor?"
("Running away so quickly, Noor?")
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Mujhe koi shauq nahi tha madad karne ka."
("I had no desire to help you.")
His smirk deepened. "Agar nahi tha, toh yahan ruki kyun?"
("If you didn't, then why did you stay?")
I had no answer for that.
Instead, I turned sharply and stormed towards the door. But just as I reached it, his voice stopped me.
"Noor."
I shouldn't have turned around.
But I did.
His expression softened. "Ek din... tum khud maano gi ke tumhe farq padta hai..
("One day... you'll admit that you care.")
I clenched my fists. "Woh din kabhi nahi aayega."
("That day will never come.")
Then, before he could see the truth in my eyes, I walked away.
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