Chapter 14: part 5

The next morning, the house was bustling with excitement for Zobia’s haldi ceremony. The courtyard was transformed into a festive paradise with yellow and white marigold garlands hanging from every corner, and the aroma of fresh flowers mixed with the tangy scent of turmeric filled the air.

Sehar stepped out of her room, draped in a stunning yellow lehenga with intricate gold embroidery that shimmered in the sunlight. Her hair was styled in loose waves, with a delicate gajra adorning her braid. She looked radiant, the very embodiment of joy, but there was a sharpness in her eyes as she scanned the room, looking for a certain someone.

Hamza.

He was nowhere to be seen.

Usually, he was the first to throw a teasing comment her way or make some snide remark, but today, he seemed to have vanished. It annoyed her more than she was willing to admit.

“Where is that idiot?” she muttered under her breath, her gaze sweeping over the crowd of relatives and friends.

“Who are you looking for?” Zobia asked, a teasing smile on her face as she caught Sehar craning her neck.

“No one!” Sehar replied hastily, her cheeks flushing. “I was just… uh… making sure everything is in place.”

Zobia raised an eyebrow but said nothing, choosing to laugh softly instead.

Meanwhile, Hamza was standing near the back of the house, purposefully keeping his distance. He had decided to test something today: what would happen if he ignored Sehar entirely? After last night’s terrace encounter, he wanted to see how she’d react if he didn’t engage with her usual banter.

As Sehar helped with the ceremony, applying turmeric on Zobia’s cheeks and laughing along with the other girls, she kept sneaking glances around the courtyard. When she finally spotted Hamza, leaning casually against a pillar with his arms crossed, her annoyance reached its peak.

He hadn’t looked her way once. Not even a teasing smirk or a sarcastic comment.

“Why is he so quiet?” she wondered, her irritation growing.

When the ceremony ended, and everyone sat down for snacks and chai, Sehar decided she had had enough. She walked over to Hamza, who was still standing aloof, sipping tea with a smug expression that only made her angrier.

“Hamza Sohail,” she said sharply, crossing her arms.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression indifferent. “Hmm?”

“What is wrong with you today?” she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” she said, her voice lowering as people began to glance in their direction. “You’ve been acting… weird. Ignoring me all day.”

He shrugged, taking another sip of his tea. “Didn’t realize you needed my attention so badly, Sehar.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she felt her cheeks heat up at his words. “I do not need your attention.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’ve been keeping tabs on me all day,” he said, smirking now.

Sehar felt like stomping her foot in frustration. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, here you are, talking to me,” he replied smoothly, finally looking her in the eye.

She faltered for a moment, her words caught in her throat. He wasn’t supposed to turn the tables on her like this.

“I was just… making sure you weren’t ruining the haldi ceremony,” she said defensively.

“Of course,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re just being the responsible one, as always.”

Sehar glared at him, her fists clenching. “Fine. Ignore me all you want. See if I care.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Hamza grinning to himself. He had to admit, it was fun seeing her so riled up. But beneath the teasing, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat whenever she was around.

For the rest of the day, Sehar found herself thinking about him more than she wanted to. His aloofness, his smirk, the way he looked so effortlessly charming in his white kurta with a yellow shawl—it all irritated and intrigued her at the same time.

“Why does he always get under my skin?” she muttered to herself as she helped Farheen with the preparations for the evening.

But deep down, she knew that it wasn’t just irritation. It was something else entirely—something she wasn’t ready to admit yet.

As for Hamza, he enjoyed watching her fume and overthink. But even he knew that ignoring Sehar for too long would be impossible. She had a way of pulling him in, whether he liked it or not.

It was a calm and quiet night, the festivities of the day having died down as everyone settled into their rooms. Sehar, however, was wide awake. She lay in her bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone when she came across Hamza’s Instagram post.

It was a picture of him in the white kurta he had worn during the haldi ceremony, the soft golden lights in the background enhancing his already sharp features. The caption read, “An evening well spent.”

Sehar couldn’t stop herself from opening the comments, where a certain name caught her eye.

Rabia: Handsome! ❤️

And then came the reply that made Sehar see red.

Hamza Sohail: Thanks, Rabia ❤️

Her blood boiled. Who is this Rabia? And why is he replying to her like that? she thought, furiously scrolling through Rabia’s profile, where she saw more than a few pictures of her and Hamza together.

Without a second thought, she grabbed her phone and texted him.

Sehar: Come to the terrace. Urgent.

Hamza, who was lounging in his room and enjoying his rare moment of peace, frowned at the message. Urgent? From Sehar? His first thought was that something might have gone wrong with Zobia’s wedding preparations. Panicked, he grabbed his shawl and headed for the terrace.

When he arrived, he found Sehar pacing back and forth, her hair falling in waves around her face, her yellow dupatta loosely draped over her shoulders.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “Is everything okay?”

She turned to face him, her expression a mix of frustration and fury. “Who is Rabia?”

Hamza blinked, confused. “What?”

“You heard me,” she snapped, taking a step closer. “Who. Is. Rabia?”

“She’s a friend,” he replied cautiously, still unsure where this was going. “Why?”

“Why is she calling you handsome on Instagram? And why are you replying with hearts?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly.

Hamza stared at her, trying to make sense of her sudden interrogation. “What does that have to do with anything? It’s just a comment.”

“It’s not just a comment!” Sehar shot back, crossing her arms. “You’re openly flirting with her!”

Hamza’s confusion gave way to amusement as a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Wait a second. Are you jealous?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she quickly masked her embarrassment with anger. “I am not jealous! I just think it’s… inappropriate.”

He stepped closer, his smirk growing. “Inappropriate? For a friend to compliment me? Or for me to respond?”

Sehar opened her mouth to reply but found herself at a loss for words. His teasing tone, his proximity—it was all too much.

“Well?” he prompted, clearly enjoying her flustered state.

“I…” she started, but the words got stuck in her throat. She hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t even planned to, but before she could stop herself, the truth slipped out.

“Because I like you!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Hamza froze, his smirk fading as her confession sank in. “What did you just say?”

Sehar’s eyes widened as the weight of her own words hit her. She hadn’t meant to admit it, especially not like this. But there was no taking it back now.

“I…” she stammered, her cheeks burning. “I said… I like you.”

Hamza’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even considered that her fiery attitude toward him could be hiding something deeper.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were the distant hum of the night and the faint rustling of leaves.

“You like me?” he finally asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Sehar groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Forget I said anything, okay? Just… forget it!”

But Hamza wasn’t about to let it go. He gently pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

“Sehar,” he said, his voice steadier now, “why would I forget something like that?”

“Because it’s stupid,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. “You’re annoying, and you drive me crazy, and half the time I want to throw something at your head. But I can’t help it, okay?”

A slow smile spread across Hamza’s face, his earlier amusement replaced by something softer, something genuine. “Well, that’s convenient.”

She frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Because I like you too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes snapped to his, searching for any sign of teasing, but there was none. For the first time, Hamza was completely serious.

“You… you do?” she asked, her voice shaky.

He nodded, his smile growing. “Yeah. You drive me crazy too, you know. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other as the weight of their mutual confessions settled between them.

“Well,” Sehar finally said, her voice returning to its usual sharpness, “you could’ve told me sooner. Would’ve saved me a lot of frustration.”

Hamza chuckled, his usual smirk returning. “Where’s the fun in that?”

And just like that, their banter resumed, but this time, it was different—softer, filled with the promise of something new, something real.