Chapter 4: part 3

As the breakfast table emptied and the quiet of the room settled, Zaina continued clearing the plates, her movements tense and hurried. Sheheryar remained seated, his eyes fixed on her as though trying to decipher the whirlwind of emotions on her face. The clinking of plates filled the silence until he finally spoke.

“Do you know the girl?” he asked, his voice calm yet probing.

Her hands stilled briefly, but she didn’t turn to face him. “Why would I?” she replied, her tone clipped and defensive. She resumed her task, trying to mask the tremor in her fingers.

Her curt response made his jaw tighten, but he wasn’t ready to let the moment pass. As she turned to leave, balancing the stack of plates in her hands, he called out softly, “Aina.”

The plates nearly slipped from her grasp as she froze mid-step. That name. The name he had always used for her, one that no one else dared to say. It was his alone, a precious tether between them.

Slowly, she turned around, her wide, hopeful eyes meeting his steady, smoldering gaze. Her heart thundered in her chest as he stood up, taking a step closer to her.

“Aina,” he repeated, his voice a touch lower, almost reverent. “I’ve been holding this in for years, convincing myself it wasn’t the right time. Telling myself you deserve someone better—someone who doesn’t bring silence into your noisy world.”

Zaina blinked, her breath caught in her throat as his words reached her.

“But,” he continued, his voice trembling slightly, “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t sit at this table and pretend I don’t watch you every morning, that my heart doesn’t skip a beat when you laugh, or that I don’t feel a pang of jealousy when someone else gets a second more of your attention than I do.”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. The plates she held felt impossibly heavy as her heart warred between disbelief and joy.

“I can’t pretend that I’m fine watching someone else take the place that I’ve dreamt of for years,” he confessed, stepping closer, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. “Because, Aina, I don’t just like you. I don’t just care for you. I love you. Completely. Helplessly. In a way that makes everything else pale in comparison.”

Her breath hitched, and she felt her cheeks flush. He reached out, gently taking the plates from her trembling hands and setting them aside.

“You call me Bhai, and I’ve respected that because I thought it was what you wanted. But every time you say it, it feels like a dagger in my chest because I can’t imagine being anything less to you than…everything,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve loved you in silence, Zaina. I’ve loved you with every part of me, and I’ll wait a lifetime if I have to. I just need to know—do I stand a chance?”

Zaina’s eyes glistened, her emotions swirling wildly. She could barely hold his gaze, overwhelmed by the weight of his confession. Her heart felt like it might burst, but somehow, she managed to find her voice.

“So…” she began softly, her lips curving into a shy smile, “tell your Ammi to send the rishta.”

For a moment, Sheheryar stared at her, stunned, as though the words hadn’t quite registered. Then, the realization hit him like a wave. A smile—genuine, bright, and so unlike his usual reserved self—broke across his face.

“You mean it?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief and uncontainable joy.

But before he could say anything more, Zaina turned abruptly, her face burning with embarrassment. “I have work to do,” she mumbled hurriedly and dashed out of the room.

Sheheryar stood rooted to the spot, his grin so wide it hurt. “She said yes,” he whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair as a laugh escaped his lips.

In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Not the upcoming alliance meeting, not the uncertainties of life—just the fact that Zaina, his Aina, had given him hope. And it was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

As the evening descended, the living room of the Saiyed household buzzed with quiet anticipation. Sheheryar sat stiffly on the plush sofa, his jaw tight and his hands clenched into fists. His heart warred between frustration and dread, though his expression betrayed nothing. On the surface, he appeared calm and composed, but inside, he was suffocating. He had made up his mind—after this meeting, he would put an end to it. He had no interest in this alliance.

Just as his thoughts spiraled, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Zaina entered carrying a tray laden with snacks and tea. Her movements were careful, her grip firm despite the slight tremble in her hands. Sheheryar’s gaze immediately shifted to her, his eyes softening despite the storm brewing within him.

Zaina could feel the weight of his stare, and as much as she tried to avoid it, her gaze flickered to meet his. Their eyes locked, and the air seemed to shift. For a moment, everything else faded away. Sheheryar smirked, the corner of his lips curling with a mix of mischief and reassurance, while Zaina’s cheeks flushed a deep red.

She quickly averted her gaze and placed the tray on the table. Her hands trembled slightly as she set down the cups, and she could feel his eyes following her every move. She straightened quickly and excused herself, her heart racing as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Moments later, the doorbell rang, and the guests were ushered in. The family was affluent, their demeanor oozing confidence and privilege. Sheheryar greeted them politely, masking his unease behind a practiced smile.

Then came the daughter. She walked in, dressed in a form-fitting, revealing outfit that drew attention. Her makeup was immaculate, and she carried herself with an air of superiority. Zaina, who had hesitated near the doorway to observe the scene, felt her heart sink.

From her position, Zaina could see how effortlessly glamorous the girl was. A pang of insecurity hit her, sharp and unrelenting. She glanced down at her own modest attire—the loose kurti and dupatta she had chosen with care earlier that day—and couldn’t help but feel inadequate.

“She’s so perfect,” Zaina thought bitterly, her hands fidgeting with the ends of her dupatta. “What chance do I even stand?”

Her chest tightened as doubt gnawed at her. The girl seemed like everything Zaina wasn’t—bold, confident, and worldly. Sheheryar deserved someone like her, didn’t he? Someone who could match his sophistication and presence.

Unable to bear the growing knot in her stomach, Zaina quietly slipped away. She retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tried to push the thoughts away, but they refused to leave.

As the chatter from the living room filtered through the walls, Zaina pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head on them. She felt like crying but held the tears back.

What she didn’t know was that in the living room, Sheheryar’s thoughts were entirely elsewhere. While the girl and her family tried to engage him in conversation, his mind was locked on the image of Zaina. Her nervous glance, her flushed cheeks, and the way she carried herself with quiet grace—all of it consumed him.

He barely heard what the guests were saying, his responses curt and distracted. Every fiber of his being wanted to stand up and walk out, to go straight to Zaina and tell her she was the only one he’d ever choose.

But he stayed seated, biding his time. He had a plan, and by the end of the night, he’d make it clear to everyone—he had already chosen his partner.

As the guests' cars pulled away and everyone gathered outside to bid farewell, Sheheryar remained rooted in the living room. His demeanor was calm, but his heart raced in anticipation. The sound of the front door closing behind the last guest broke his reverie, and his mother’s voice followed.

“Sheheryar, why didn’t you come outside to bid farewell?” his mother asked, walking into the room.

He stood from the couch, his expression firm yet thoughtful. “Ammi, I need to tell you something,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight of emotion.

Everyone slowly filtered back into the living room, curious about his sudden announcement. His mother looked at him with mild concern. “What is it, beta?”

Sheheryar took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “I want to marry Zaina.”

A wave of silence swept over the room. Everyone stared at him, processing his words. His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but then, to everyone’s surprise, she let out an excited squeal and pulled Sheheryar into a tight hug.

“Oh, I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed, her happiness palpable.

The rest of the family exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of how to react. His younger sister, Fatimah, however, smiled knowingly, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Ammi, you’re happy?” Sheheryar asked, slightly taken aback by her enthusiastic reaction.

“Happy? I’ve been praying for this for years!” his mother declared, beaming. “I always wanted Zaina as my daughter-in-law. But you never said anything, and she always called you Bhai. I thought it would ruin the bond if I brought it up.”

Sheheryar felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if Zaina felt the same way. I couldn’t impose my feelings on her.”

Fatimah chuckled. “Bhai, if you had paid a little more attention, you’d have noticed. Zaina’s feelings for you aren’t a secret—at least not to me.”

The family erupted in joy as the realization settled in. Even his Taya Abbu and Tayi Ammi, who were initially surprised, joined in the celebration. But there was still one crucial step left.

“We need Zaina’s answer,” Shamim said, her eyes glinting with determination. “I’ll go speak to her now.”

Everyone watched eagerly as Shamim climbed the stairs and knocked gently on Zaina’s door.

“Ammi?” Zaina opened the door, her brows knitting in confusion. “What happened?”

Shamim stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. “Beta, there’s something I need to ask you.”

Zaina sat on the edge of her bed, her heart beginning to race at her mother’s serious tone. “What is it, Ammi?”

Shamim smiled warmly and took her daughter’s hands in hers. “Sheheryar has asked for your hand in marriage.”

Zaina froze, her eyes widening in shock. Her mind reeled as she processed the words. “W-What?”

Shamim squeezed her hands gently. “He loves you, beta, and he wants to marry you. But the decision is yours. Do you want this?”

Zaina blinked rapidly, her emotions swirling in a mix of disbelief and joy. Her heart swelled as she thought about Sheheryar—the man she had secretly loved for years. The man she had prayed to Allah for, asking Him to make him her naseeb.

“Yes, Ammi,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I want this.”

Shamim’s face lit up with joy. She kissed her daughter’s forehead and hugged her tightly. “Allah has truly blessed us,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

Moments later, Shamim returned to the living room, her expression radiant. “She said yes!” she announced, her voice brimming with happiness.

Cheers and laughter filled the room as everyone celebrated the good news. Sheheryar couldn’t hide his grin, his heart soaring. For the first time in years, he felt complete.

Fatimah clapped her hands together, teasing her brother. “Looks like someone’s going to stop being Mr. Reserved now!”

Zaina, peeking down from the staircase, watched the celebration unfold. Her cheeks flushed as her gaze met Sheheryar’s. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, silently promising her a future filled with love and respect.

And in that moment, surrounded by their joyful family, their story began anew—written by their faith, their prayers, and the blessings of Allah.