4.

The evening was calm, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the house, one I couldn't quite place. Chachi was bustling about in the living room, more animated than usual, while Ahmed Taya and Salman Chachu sat together, deep in discussion. Feras was seated a little apart, his usual composed and aloof self, silently observing the conversation.

I was on my way to the kitchen to fetch Ayub some tea when their words caught my attention. I paused mid-step, staying just out of sight behind the partially closed door.

"I think it's time we start planning," Ahmed Taya said, his voice measured. "Feras is old enough, and it's only right that we settle things sooner rather than later."

Marriage? My heart gave a strange, painful lurch.

Salman Chachu nodded. "I agree. A wedding in the family would be a good way to bring some joy back into this house. Things have been tense for far too long."

I could hear Chachi's voice next, full of enthusiasm. "Exactly, bhaijaan! And what better match than Feras and Seher? It's perfect... she's beautiful, smart, and she's his cousin, so we don't have to look outside the family." (Brother)

The words felt like a slap, and I had to grip the edge of the wall to steady myself. Feras and Seher? The idea was logical, I supposed. They were both from prominent families, they shared the same social circle, and Chachi clearly adored her daughter. But... why did it hurt so much to hear it?

"I don't see why not," Ahmed Taya said thoughtfully. "Feras, what do you think?"

There was a pause, and I held my breath, waiting for his response.

"It's your decision," Feras said finally, his tone neutral. "If you think it's best, I have no objections."

His indifference stung more than I expected.

Chachi's delighted laugh filled the room. "Then it's settled! I'll start speaking to Seher about it. She'll be thriled!"

I couldn't bear to hear any more. The cup of tea in my hand shook as I turned and quickly made my way to the kitchen, my chest tightening with every step.

In the sanctuary of the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, letting out a shaky breath. My mind was racing, the words from the living room playing on a loop in my head. Feras and Seher. It's perfect.

Why was I so affected? I'd always known Feras was out of reach, that he belonged in a world far removed from mine. He was cold, distant, and barely acknowledged my existence. And yet, somewhere in the depths of my heart, I'd held on to the faintest sliver of hope, a hope I hadn't even allowed myself to fully acknowledge until now.

"Anam?" Ayub's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I quickly turned to face her, plastering a smile on my face. "Yes, Ayub? Do you need something?"

She frowned, looking at me with concern. "Apa, you've been gone for a while. Is everything okay?"

I nodded quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Everything's fine. Here, let me bring you your tea."

She watched me carefully, but she didn't press further. I handed her the cup and sent her back to our room, assuring her I'd join her soon.

Once she was gone, I sank onto one of the kitchen chairs, resting my head in my hands. Ya Allah, I prayed silently, please give me the strength to accept what is written for me.

.....

The next few days were torturous. Every time I crossed paths with Seher, Chachi, or even Feras, the conversation I'd overheard lingered in the back of my mind like a haunting melody. Chachi's enthusiasm, Seher's smug glances, and Feras's indifferance all seemed magnified now, like glaring lights on a stage.

I tried my best to maintain a façade of normalcy, throwing myself into household tasks and my studies. But no matter how busy I kept myself, the ache in my chest refused to fade.

One evening, as I was folding laundry in the living room, Seher walked in, her phone clutched in her hand. She sat on the couch across from me, her movements deliberate and slow, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"You've been awfuly quiet lately, Anam," she said, her tone light but laced with condescension. "Not that you're ever very talkative."

I looked up from the clothes, offering her a small smile. "I've just been busy with exams," I replied politely, trying to keep my voice even.

"Hmm." She tilted her head, studying me. "Well, I suppose that's good. It's not like you have much else to look forward to, right?"

I froze, her words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. Seher had always been dismissive of me and Ayub, but there was an edge to her tone now, as if she were testing the waters, looking for a reaction.

"I'm happy with what Allah has written for me," I said quietly, returning my attention to the clothes.

She laughed softly, the sound dripping with mockery. "Of course you are. Though I do wonder what it's like, living in someone else's house, dependent on their charity."

I clenched my fists, the fabric in my hands crumpling under the pressure. I wanted to retort, to remind her that this was my taya's house too, that my father's legacy was intertwined with theirs. But before I could gather the courage, the sound of footsteps made me look up.

Feras had entered the room, his tall frame casting a shadow over us. He glanced between me and Seher, his expression unreadable.

"Seher," he said, his voice calm but firm. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Just talking to Anam, bhai," she said innocently, a sweet smile plastered on her face.

Feras's gaze lingered on her for a moment before shifting to me. "Anam," he said, his tone softer now. "Ahmed Taya is asking for tea. Can you bring it to his room?"

I nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to leave. Gathering the folded clothes, I made my way to the kitchen, my heart racing.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, I found myself on the prayer mat again, pouring my heart out to Allah.

"Ya Allah," I whispered, my voice trembling. "If this pain is a test, grant me the strength to endure it. And if it is not meant for me, remove this longing from my heart."

Tears blurred my vision as I bowed in sujood, seeking solace in my faith. It was the only place where I felt truly at peace, where I could lay bare all the fears and doubts I kept hidden from the world.

The next morning, as I was helping Ayub pack her bag for university, Chachi's voice called out from the hallway.

"Anam! Come here!"

I exchanged a glance with Ayub, who frowned in concern. "I'll handle this," I assured her, squeezing her hand before leaving the room.

When I reached the living room, I saw Chachi seated with Ahmed Taya and Salman Chachu, a tray of tea and snacks on the table before them. Feras was there too, standing near the window, his arms crossed as he stared out at the garden.

"Anam," Chachi said with a tight smile. "We're discussing some important family matters. Go and fetch Seher for us, will you?"

Her words stung, a reminder that I was never truly part of these discussions, despite being family.

"Yes, Chachi," I replied quietly, turning to leave.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but glance at Feras. His expression was as impassive as ever, but there was something in his posture... a stifness, a tension... that made me wonder if he was truly as indifferent as he seemed.