Chapter 5: part 4

The day of their nikaah had arrived—a moment that Zaina had often envisioned but never imagined would be with the man she had loved silently for so long. The air was filled with a serene yet joyous energy. The house was adorned with white flowers that created a soft partition between the bride and groom, symbolizing both their modesty and the sacredness of their union.

Zaina sat quietly, her heart pounding in anticipation. Her red bridal dress sparkled under the soft lights, and her face was hidden behind a delicate red veil. Her hands, adorned with intricate mehendi designs, trembled slightly as she clasped them together.

The molvi sahib began the ceremony, his voice solemn and steady. “Zaina bint Ishaq Saiyed, do you accept this nikaah?”

Her father’s name being mentioned brought a wave of emotion, her heart swelling with both love and longing. She composed herself and replied in a soft yet firm voice, “Qubool hai.”

The molvi sahib repeated the question two more times, and each time, Zaina’s voice grew steadier, her confidence blooming with each “Qubool hai.”

On the other side of the partition, Sheheryar’s heart raced as his turn came. He sat tall, exuding his usual composure, but within him was a storm of emotions. The molvi sahib asked him the same question:

“Sheheryar bin Usman Saiyed, do you accept this nikaah?”

“Qubool hai,” he said, his deep voice calm and resolute.

“Qubool hai,” he repeated, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Qubool hai,” he declared for the third time, his lips curving into a soft smile as he finished.

The nikaah was complete. With a steady breath, Sheheryar rose from his seat and approached the white floral partition. He gently parted the curtain, revealing Zaina on the other side. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the sight of her—his bride, his Aina.

Carefully, almost reverently, he lifted the red veil covering her face. The moment his eyes met hers, he couldn’t help but whisper, “MashaAllah.”

Zaina’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes met his intense gaze. He looked at her as though she was the most precious thing in the world, and she felt her cheeks heat under his unwavering stare.

Sheheryar leaned in, closing the distance between them, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing a silent promise of love and protection. “Nikaah Mubarak,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Zaina’s lips quirked into a small, shy smile, and a soft giggle escaped her. “Aapko bhi,” she replied, her voice like music to his ears.

Without thinking, Sheheryar pulled her into an embrace. It was hesitant at first, but as Zaina leaned into him, it became firmer, more secure. For both of them, this was new—a warmth they had never experienced before. Zaina had only ever hugged her brother, and Sheheryar had only hugged his sister. This was different, intimate, and magical.

Sheheryar rested his chin gently on her head, His arms wrapped protectively around her, and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. “You’re everything I’ve ever prayed for,” he murmured softly, his words meant only for her.

Zaina, overwhelmed by the depth of his affection, let out a soft whisper, “And you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.”

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, a cocoon of love and tranquility enveloping them. It was as though time had paused, allowing them to savor the beginning of their journey together.

When they finally pulled apart, their family members surrounded them with smiles and blessings. Shamim, Zaina’s mother, couldn’t hold back her tears of joy, and Zohaib, ever the tease, chimed in, “Wah, Sheheryar Bhai! Ek hug aur forehead kiss aur humari Baji ab blush queen ban gayi!”

Zaina’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she swatted at Zohaib in mock annoyance, only to almost bump into a nearby table.

But before she could stumble, Sheheryar’s hand shot out, steadying her. His touch was firm yet gentle, his eyes filled with both amusement and care. “Careful,” he said softly, his lips quirking into a small smile.

Zaina looked up at him, her heart fluttering at his protectiveness. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Always,” he replied, his tone carrying a promise that echoed louder than his words.

As the evening unfolded, their nikaah became a cherished memory etched in their hearts—a day of love, faith, and the blessings of family. It was the perfect beginning to their life together, one that they had prayed for and dreamed of in their own unique ways.

The evening carried a unique charm as Zaina and Sheheryar sat in the living room with their family. Both had changed out of their wedding attire into simpler clothes, embracing the comfort of their home. Since Zaina had not yet completed her education, it had been decided that there would be no rukhsati for now. Still, the joy of their nikaah was evident in everyone’s faces.

Zaina was sitting beside Fatimah, chatting animatedly about how beautiful the day had been. Her bubbly tone filled the room, but suddenly, she froze mid-sentence. Sheheryar had slyly reached out and held her hand under the fold of her dupatta.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned slightly to look at him. His face was calm, but his lips were quirked into an unmistakable smirk. She gave a small tug to free her hand, but his grip only tightened, his fingers lacing through hers as if claiming her silently.

“Zaina, what happened? Why’d you stop talking?” Fatimah asked, her brows furrowing.

“N-nothing,” Zaina stammered, her voice a little higher than usual as she attempted to mask her nervousness. To cover their intertwined hands, she adjusted her dupatta subtly, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.

Sheheryar leaned slightly closer and whispered so only she could hear, “Nice save, Aina.” His smirk grew as he saw her struggle to keep her composure.

Zaina’s heart raced, but she managed to play along, even as her hand tingled from his warm, firm grip.

After dinner, everyone retired to their respective rooms. Zaina entered her bedroom and began her nightly routine, still trying to process the events of the day. She sat on her vanity stool, applying lotion to her hands, her dupatta now loosely draped over her shoulders.

As she was lost in her thoughts, the door to her room creaked open. Her head shot up, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Sheheryar step inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Sheheryar!” she whispered in a mixture of surprise and shyness.

Without a word, he walked over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. It was different from the gentle hugs they had shared earlier. This one was filled with longing and unspoken emotions.

Her initial surprise melted away as she slowly wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back. She felt the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, and it brought a sense of calmness she hadn’t known she needed.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes softened as they landed on her hair. For the first time, her hair wasn’t hidden beneath her scarf. It cascaded down her back in soft, wavy strands, glinting under the soft light of the room.

He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing through the silky strands. “MashaAllah,” he whispered, his voice full of awe and tenderness.

Zaina blushed under his gaze, feeling shy yet cherished. “What are you doing here, Sheheryar?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his hand gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see you like this? To have the right to look at you this way?”

Her blush deepened, and she lowered her gaze, but he tilted her chin up gently, making her meet his eyes.

“You’re mine now, Zaina. My Aina,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life cherishing every moment with you.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, and she whispered, “And I’ll spend mine making you proud, Sheheryar.”

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering as if sealing a silent promise. The warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his actions filled her heart with a love so profound that it left her speechless.