Chapter 12: part 3

Sehar and Hamza had agreed to meet at his home to start working on the state-level project. Though the truce was still fresh, it didn’t take long for their banter to resurface.

“Sehar, your handwriting is awful,” Hamza commented as he leaned over the table to look at her notes.

She raised an eyebrow, barely masking her irritation. “Excuse me? It’s perfectly legible. Maybe you just need glasses.”

Hamza smirked. “Or maybe you need to take a basic handwriting course. Ever thought about that?”

Sehar rolled her eyes and snatched her notebook back. “Focus on your part of the project, Sohail. The last thing I need is your unsolicited critique.”

Before Hamza could respond with another jab, they heard Raniya’s voice from the living room.

“Hamza! Sehar! Come out here for a minute!”

Curious, the pair exchanged glances before heading toward the source of the commotion. Raniya stood there, a broad smile on her face, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Guess what!” Raniya began, barely able to contain her joy. “Furqan, the son of my sister Farah, is back from America. And...” She paused dramatically, looking at Zobia, who had just entered the room. “The alliance between him and Zobia has been fixed! They’re coming over tonight to officially ask for her hand in marriage.”

A wave of excitement swept through the house as everyone processed the news. Sehar’s eyes lit up, and without a second thought, she dashed over to Zobia, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Aapi!” Sehar exclaimed, throwing her arms around Zobia. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Furqan bhai is back, and it’s official! Congratulations!”

Zobia laughed, caught off guard by Sehar’s enthusiasm but clearly touched. “Thank you, Sehar. It feels surreal, honestly.”

Sehar pulled back just enough to look at Zobia’s face, her grin mischievous. “Aapi, admit it—you’ve been dreaming about this moment for months, haven’t you? And now Furqan bhai is finally here to sweep you off your feet!”

Zobia blushed furiously, trying to brush off Sehar’s teasing. “Sehar, stop it! You’re making it sound like a Bollywood drama.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Sehar quipped, her voice dripping with humor. “The handsome cousin returns from America, the families unite, and now we have an epic shaadi to plan! I’m living for this!”

Zobia swatted Sehar playfully, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “Behave, or I’ll make you handle all the wedding preparations alone.”

“Challenge accepted,” Sehar said with a dramatic bow, making Zobia laugh again.

Meanwhile, Hamza stood leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn’t help but smile as Sehar’s usual feistiness transformed into warmth and playful teasing with his sister.

“Aapi, I can’t wait to see you all dolled up as a bride,” Sehar continued, holding Zobia’s hands. “But also, can we take a moment to acknowledge how you’ll finally be free of this one?” She jerked her thumb toward Hamza.

Hamza smirked, pushing off the doorframe. “Hey! Why am I being dragged into this?”

“Because, Sohail,” Sehar said, turning to him with a teasing glare, “once Aapi is gone, you’ll have no one to boss you around. Who’s going to make sure you clean your room or eat your vegetables?”

Zobia giggled. “She’s got a point, Hamza.”

Hamza rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “Don’t get too excited, Sehar. You’ll still have to deal with me during project meetings. And trust me, I’m not going easy on you.”

Sehar smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “Bring it on, Sohail. But for now, let’s focus on celebrating Aapi’s big news.”

“Fair enough,” Hamza conceded, walking over to Zobia. “Congratulations, Aapi,” he said softly, patting her head. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Zobia smiled warmly, pulling Hamza into a brief hug. “Thank you, Hamza. And don’t worry—I’ll still be around to keep you in line.”

The three of them shared a laugh, the moment surprisingly lighthearted despite the usual chaos between Sehar and Hamza.

As the evening approached and the house filled with preparations for Furqan’s arrival, Sehar and Zobia worked side by side, choosing outfits and discussing the details of the visit. Hamza observed them quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. Seeing Sehar’s genuine bond with his family made him realize that beneath all her sarcasm and sharp wit, there was a kind-hearted and caring person—a side of her he rarely got to see.

For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the peace, knowing full well that their truce—and their banter—would resume soon enough.

As evening fell, Sehar adorned herself in a vibrant pastel pink Anarkali, the intricate embroidery catching the warm light of the setting sun. Her hair was styled elegantly, with soft curls framing her face. She checked her reflection in the mirror once more before heading downstairs.

As she stepped into the living room, she found Hamza already there, casually lounging on the sofa, his expression a mix of amusement and smugness.

“Well, look at you,” Hamza said, eyeing her outfit. “Trying to impress someone, Sehar?”

Sehar shot him a sharp look, the corners of her lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, please, Sohail. Not everyone dresses like they’re going to a cricket match.” She gestured toward his casual kurta and jeans.

“I’m comfortable,” he replied, leaning back. “Unlike you, who clearly spent hours just to look… average.”

She scoffed, stepping closer. “If this is average, then you wouldn’t survive seeing me at my best.”

Hamza grinned. “That day will never come.”

“Keep dreaming,” Sehar retorted before walking off to find Zobia.

Upstairs, Zobia was in her room, struggling to pin her dupatta in place. Sehar stepped in, smiling warmly.

“Aapi, let me help,” she said, taking the dupatta from Zobia’s hands and expertly securing it.

“Thanks, Sehar,” Zobia said, her voice tinged with nervousness. “I can’t believe this is all happening so quickly.”

Sehar squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Aapi, you’re going to be fine. Furqan bhai seems amazing, and you’re going to be so happy together.”

Zobia smiled, her nerves easing a little. “You always know what to say, Sehar.”

“Of course,” Sehar said playfully. “It’s part of my charm.”

Once Zobia was ready, Sehar helped Raniya in the kitchen, assisting with the final touches for dinner. The aroma of biryani, kebabs, and sweet dishes filled the air, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

As the guests arrived, Sehar escorted Zobia to the living room, where Furqan and his family were already seated. Zobia blushed as Furqan greeted her with a polite smile, and the families exchanged warm pleasantries.

The conversation flowed easily, and it wasn’t long before Farah turned to Raniya with a suggestion that caught everyone off guard.

“Raniya,” Farah began with a smile, “since we’re already becoming one family, I thought I’d mention something. My younger son, Amaan, is also of marriageable age. And since I know your family so well, I couldn’t help but notice how wonderful Sehar is.” She looked at Sehar fondly. “We’d be honored to propose an alliance for her and Amaan.”

The room fell silent.

Sehar’s eyes widened in shock, her gaze darting between her parents, who looked equally surprised, and Zobia, who gave her a reassuring smile. But the most unexpected reaction came from Hamza.

Hamza, who had been leaning against the wall, suddenly stiffened. His jaw tightened, and his usually relaxed demeanor vanished. He didn’t like the idea—not one bit.

Sehar? With someone else? The thought was unbearable.

He forced himself to remain calm, but inside, his emotions churned. He could tolerate her teasing, her banter, and even her occasional barbs, but seeing her with someone else? That was something he couldn’t stomach.

Raniya finally broke the silence with a warm smile. “Farah, that’s a very generous proposal. But this is quite unexpected. We’d need some time to think about it.”

“Of course, of course,” Farah said graciously. “Take all the time you need.”

Sehar, still processing the turn of events, excused herself to the kitchen under the pretense of checking on the dinner. Hamza followed shortly after, finding her standing by the counter, her expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not every day someone proposes a marriage alliance out of nowhere.”

Hamza leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you even want this?”

Sehar sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not about what I want. It’s just… overwhelming.”

He studied her for a moment, his usual teasing absent. “You don’t have to agree to anything you’re not ready for.”

Sehar raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about my decisions?”

“Since now,” he shot back, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

She smirked, her usual sass returning. “Don’t tell me you’re getting possessive, Sohail.”

Hamza frowned, avoiding her gaze. “As if. I just don’t think Amaan is the right match for you.”

“Oh? And who would be, then?” she challenged, stepping closer.

Hamza’s breath hitched, but he quickly recovered, his smirk returning. “Someone who can handle your annoying habits and constant banter. Amaan doesn’t stand a chance.”

Sehar chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Sohail. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner to serve.”

As she walked past him, Hamza’s gaze lingered on her. He couldn’t explain it, but the thought of her being tied to someone else left an ache in his chest. Whatever this was between them, it was far from over.