Chapter 16: part 7

The next morning, Sehar woke up feeling restless. The events of the previous evening replayed in her mind, especially Raniya’s shocking announcement about Hamza’s marriage. She couldn’t quite place why it had affected her so deeply. To distract herself, she busied herself with chores, but the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.

Around noon, Raniya and her family arrived at the Tahir house for lunch. The house was filled with the usual lively chatter and laughter as the two families mingled, but Sehar couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. She noticed her mother, Farheen, whispering something to Raniya and exchanging smiles. Suspicious, Sehar raised an eyebrow but decided to stay quiet.

As lunch was being prepared, Raniya turned to Farheen and said, “Farheen, why don’t you help Sehar get ready? We’d like to see her looking her best today.”

Sehar, who was cutting vegetables in the kitchen, paused mid-slice. “Get ready? For what?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

Farheen waved a dismissive hand. “Just wear something nice. It’s a special day.”

Confused but not wanting to argue, Sehar relented and went to her room. She chose a stunning white and gold anarkali with delicate embroidery, its soft hues complementing her complexion. As she applied a touch of kohl to her eyes and styled her hair in loose waves, she wondered what all the fuss was about.

When she finally descended the stairs, the room fell silent. Hamza, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up and froze. His breath hitched as he took in Sehar’s appearance. She looked ethereal, the light from the windows casting a soft glow around her. He tried to mask his reaction, but his heart was racing.

Sehar noticed his gaze and raised an eyebrow. “What? Never seen me in an anarkali before?”

Hamza smirked, masking his nervousness. “I’m just wondering how you manage to look both innocent and terrifying at the same time.”

Before she could retort, Raniya cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. She smiled warmly at Sehar and said, “Beta, come sit here with us. We have something important to discuss.”

Sehar’s brow furrowed, but she complied, sitting beside her mother. The air suddenly felt heavy with anticipation.

Raniya turned to Farheen and said, “We’ve been family friends for years, and I’ve always admired the way you’ve raised Sehar. She’s smart, kind, and beautiful—a perfect match for Hamza.”

Sehar’s eyes widened as realization dawned, and she instinctively glanced at Hamza, who looked just as shocked.

Raniya continued, “Farheen, with your blessing, I would like to ask for Sehar’s hand in marriage for my son, Hamza.”

The words hung in the air, leaving everyone stunned. Sehar’s heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind. She quickly excused herself, muttering something about fetching water, and hurried to the kitchen.

Hamza, meanwhile, sat frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Marriage? To Sehar? The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He glanced at his mother, who looked completely at ease, as if she’d just announced what was on the menu for dessert.

In the kitchen, Sehar leaned against the counter, trying to catch her breath. Her mother soon joined her, closing the door behind her.

“Sehar,” Farheen began gently, “what do you think? This is a big decision, but I know Raniya and Hamza well. They’re good people.”

Sehar bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. The idea of marrying Hamza was overwhelming. Their banter, their arguments, the way he made her both furious and happy—it all came rushing back. But wasn’t there something more? Something deeper that she had felt but never acknowledged?

“Ammi,” she said hesitantly, “do you really think this is the right choice?”

Farheen smiled knowingly. “I think you already know the answer, beta. Just listen to your heart.”

Sehar took a deep breath, her thoughts settling. After a moment of silence, she finally nodded. “Yes, Ammi. I’ll marry him.”

Farheen beamed and hugged her daughter tightly before returning to the living room to deliver the news. Sehar stayed behind for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

Back in the living room, Raniya’s face lit up as Farheen shared Sehar’s answer. Hamza, who had been holding his breath, exhaled in relief, though he tried to play it cool.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” he whispered to Sehar when she returned to the room.

Sehar shot him a mock glare but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t make me regret my decision, Hamza.”

He chuckled, leaning slightly closer. “Oh, you’ll regret it, all right. But not for the reasons you think.”

And just like that, the rivalry that had once defined their relationship took a new, unexpected turn. Their marriage was set, and though neither knew exactly what the future held, they both felt a spark of excitement—and maybe even a little hope.

The day of their nikaah had arrived, and the air buzzed with excitement and emotion. The house was adorned with twinkling lights and floral decorations, the fragrance of fresh roses wafting through the air. Sehar sat quietly in her bridal attire, a deep red lehenga with intricate gold embroidery. Her dupatta was draped delicately over her head, and her kohl-lined eyes looked stunning yet nervous. She could hear the faint hum of the nikahkhwan’s recitation as the nikaah ceremony began.

Hamza, dressed in a regal white sherwani with gold accents, sat on the other side of the flower net separating them. His usual smirk was replaced with a more serious expression, though his eyes sparkled with anticipation. When the nikahkhwan finally asked him the pivotal question, Hamza's voice was strong and steady as he said, "Qabool hain."

The question was then directed at Sehar, whose heart pounded in her chest. Her palms felt clammy as she whispered her own "Qabool hain" three times, her voice soft but firm. The moment felt surreal, as if time had stopped.

With the completion of the nikaah, the room erupted in cheers and mubarakbad. Hamza rose to his feet, his tall frame commanding attention as he moved purposefully towards Sehar. The flower net that separated them was gently pushed aside, and the room fell silent, all eyes on the newlyweds.

Hamza stood in front of her, his gaze softening as he took in her beauty. He reached out and gently lifted the red dupatta from her head, revealing her face fully. The gesture was intimate, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room.

He leaned in slightly and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, a gesture so simple yet filled with meaning. Sehar closed her eyes momentarily, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sincerity behind it. When he pulled back, he looked straight into her eyes and asked with a playful smirk, “How are you feeling, Hamza?”

Sehar blinked, confused for a second. “Hamza?” she echoed, tilting her head slightly. “Why are you calling me Hamza?”

Hamza chuckled, his grin widening. “Well, I used to call you Tahir because that was your last name. But now…” He paused for effect, his tone teasing. “Your last name is Hamza. So, I’m calling you Hamza.”

Sehar’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at his words. She looked away, trying to hide her embarrassment, but Hamza caught it instantly.

“Ah, so you do know how to blush,” he teased, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “I was starting to think you were immune to me.”

Sehar turned back to him, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Hamza.”

But her words lacked their usual bite, and Hamza’s grin only widened. “Too late for that,” he quipped. “You married me, remember?”

Before she could retort, they were interrupted by the elders calling them for photographs and congratulations. Hamza offered his hand to her, and though hesitant at first, Sehar took it. The spark between them was undeniable, and though the teasing and banter continued, there was an undercurrent of tenderness and understanding that neither could ignore.

As the celebrations continued, Sehar found herself stealing glances at Hamza. He was charming everyone with his wit and humor, effortlessly transitioning between playful banter with their friends and showing respect to the elders. For the first time, Sehar realized that beneath all the teasing, there was a man she could trust and admire—a man she was now married to.

Hamza, too, couldn’t keep his eyes off Sehar. He loved the way she carried herself with grace, how she interacted so warmly with everyone, and how she managed to look both shy and fiery at the same time. Deep down, he knew he was the luckiest man in the room.

And though their journey together was just beginning, one thing was clear: life with Sehar would never be dull.