Part 13

Hey my dear cuties here is the chapter

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As we stepped into the mall, its polished marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers. The sound of lively chatter and upbeat music filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere. Di gently held my hand, guiding me toward a clothing store tucked neatly between other high-end boutiques.

The store’s entrance was grand yet welcoming, with golden lettering elegantly displaying its name. Inside, racks of intricately designed outfits lined the walls, their rich fabrics shimmering under soft spotlights. Luxurious lehengas, delicate saris, and embroidered salwar kameez sets hung alongside modern gowns, all radiating sophistication. The air was scented faintly with a mix of new fabric and subtle floral fragrance.

“Chalo, bacha,” di said, her eyes scanning the collection with focus. “Aaj tumhare liye kuch special lena hai.” (Let’s go, little one. Today, we’re getting something special for you.)

As we walked toward the counter section, the soft golden light above highlighted the elegant fabrics displayed behind glass cases. Inayah di approached the attendant with her usual confidence and said, “Hume dono ke liye kapde dikhaiye.” (Show us clothes for both of us.)

I hesitated and whispered, “Di, dekhne aapko aa rahe hai, mujhe nahi. Main aapki koi bhi kapde pehen lungi.” (Di, they are coming to see you, not me. I’ll wear anything  from your old clothes.)

Her response was immediate and firm—she gently placed a finger on my lips, her eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned closer and said, “Shhhh.” The intensity of her gaze left no room for argument. That look alone made me clamp my mouth shut, knowing well that if I said anything else, I would surely be doomed.

The staff began showing us options, and after half an hour of trying on various outfits, di finally picked something for me. It was a stunning pastel pink gown with a jacket-like overlay adorned with intricate silver embroidery. The flowing chiffon underneath added a soft, ethereal vibe, and the crystal-encrusted belt at the waist made it look exquisite. "Perfect," she declared with a smile. Then, with equal precision, she chose a bottle-green anarkali for herself. Its rich, deep hue paired with golden embellishments made it look regal and commanding, fitting di’s personality perfectly.

Afterward, she guided me to a jewelry store. The shop was glittering with displays of necklaces, earrings, bangles, and more, all arranged in neat rows within glass showcases. The air smelled faintly of leather and polish, with the subtle hum of soft instrumental music in the background.

As we browsed, di suddenly received a call. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she said, excusing herself politely. I wandered to a nearby display and noticed a pair of bracelets—simple yet elegant, their delicate design embellished with tiny crystals that caught the light perfectly. I could instantly imagine how beautiful they would look on both di and me. I politely asked the staff member nearby, “Can you please tell me the price of these?”

She smiled and replied, “It’s around 50000 rupees.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I said, smiling back.

“Do you want to buy them, ma’am?” she asked.

I shook my head quickly. “No, no, thank you,” I replied.

“It’s okay,” she said kindly, her smile reassuring.

But another staff member, standing nearby, gave me a dismissive look. With a sneer, he said, “Khareedne ki aukat nahi hai aur keemat puch rahe hai.” (You don’t have the means to buy it, yet you’re asking about the price.)

His words hit me like a sting, but I bit my tongue, refusing to react. I simply turned away, pretending I hadn’t heard him. Before I could dwell on the sting of his words, di returned. She immediately noticed my expression and glanced at the staff members. “Kya hua, Sifu?” (What happened, Sifu?)

I shook my head, but the rude staff member’s smirk gave him away. Without hesitation, di’s voice rose sharply. “Is this how you talk to your customers, huh? Don’t you have any manners? Call the manager NOW!” Her tone was cold, firm, and left no room for argument.

The girl who had been kind earlier looked terrified. “I’m really sorry, ma’am,” she stammered. “I didn’t know she was with someone—”

“So what?” di cut her off. “Even if she wasn’t, is this how you treat someone? Does that give you the right to talk in that tone?”

The girl kept apologizing, her voice trembling, but di’s focus was on the rude staff member. “Say sorry to my sister, not to me.”

The man looked embarrassed as he muttered an apology, “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

I quickly interjected, “It’s okay, no need to apologize more.” I turned to di and tugged her sleeve gently. “Di, let’s leave. Didn’t you want to buy something?”

Di’s gaze softened as she nodded. “Yes, I did.” She turned back to the polite staff member and said, “Can you please show me the bracelets—the two sets behind the counter?”

The woman, relieved by di’s calm tone, smiled and replied, “Yes, ma’am, of course.”

Di chose two exquisite jewelry sets. The first included a shimmering diamond pendant necklace paired with matching hoop earrings, a sleek bracelet, and a ring encrusted with tiny, brilliant diamonds. Each piece radiated elegance and sophistication, perfect for formal occasions. The second set featured a sleek diamond choker necklace, perfectly complemented by delicate stud earrings, a slim bracelet, and a matching ring. Its understated luxury made it a timeless choice, effortlessly elevating her regal green outfit. Di looked at me and smiled. “These will look perfect with our dresses,” she said confidently, and I couldn’t help but agree.

It was around 12 PM when I turned to di and said, “Di, ghar chalte hai, baaki tayarian bhi karni hai.” (Let’s go home, we still have other preparations to do.)

She nodded, adjusting her dupatta, and replied, “Haan, bas sandals le lu tere aur apne liye, phir chalte hain.” (Yes, let me just get sandals for both of us, then we’ll leave.)

As we were walking toward the footwear section, my eyes caught sight of a cotton candy stall nearby. My face lit up, and before I realized it, I blurted out, “Di, cotton candy!” My voice was filled with the excitement of a five-year-old discovering treasure.

She laughed, shaking her head, and teased, “Isme chilane ki kya baat hai? Chal, kharid ke deti hoon.” (What’s there to shout about? Come, I’ll buy it for you.)

She bought me a big, fluffy pink cotton candy, and I happily tore into it, savoring the sugary sweetness as though it was the best thing in the world. “Di, yeh toh bachpan jaisa lag raha hai,” (Di, this feels like childhood again,) I said, smiling through the sticky pink fluff.

She chuckled. “Tumhe dekh kar toh waise bhi lagta hai ke tum ab tak badi nahi hui ho.” (Looking at you, it seems like you haven’t grown up yet.)

After I finished my treat, we chose elegant heels for ourselves. Di picked a pair of classic golden stilettos with intricate embellishments that perfectly matched her bottle-green outfit, while I selected a pair of pastel pink block heels with pearl detailing, complementing my dress. Satisfied with our purchase, we exited the stall, carrying our shopping bags.

Just as we stepped out, di’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and answered, “Haan, maa.” A few moments later, she hung up and turned to me. “Maa ne kaha hai kuch mithai le aao.” (Mom said to bring some sweets.)

Giggling, I said, “Toh mujhe bhi mithai khilani padegi!” (Then you’ll have to buy me sweets too!)

She smirked and replied, “Haan, kyun nahi!” (Of course, why not!)

We headed to the sweets shop, a cozy little place filled with the enticing aroma of freshly made mithai. The shelves were lined with colorful boxes, and the display counters showcased an array of traditional sweets. Di began placing our order: golden ghari, kaju katli, and besan ke laddoo.

As she was deciding, I suddenly remembered, “Abeeha ko roshogulla pasand hai!” (Abeeha loves roshogulla!) And then, as if struck by another thought, I added, “Aur Sidra ko gulab jamun!” (And Sidra loves gulab jamun!)

Di smiled at my enthusiasm and asked the attendant to pack both. We also spotted rasmalai cheesecakes, which looked irresistible. Di added them to the list and even bought some extra rasmalai for us to enjoy in the car.

Once everything was packed, we paid the bill and walked back to the car, carrying bags full of sweets. As we sat inside and started driving home, di opened one of the boxes of rasmalai. “Tumhare bacche wale cotton candy mood ke liye yeh rasmalai ka gift,” (For your childlike cotton candy mood, here’s some rasmalai as a gift,) she said with a grin, handing me a spoon.

I took a bite and smiled brightly. “Di, tum duniya ki sabse best sister ho.” (Di, you’re the best sister in the world.)

She laughed softly. “Aur tum duniya ki sabse cute chhoti behen ho.” (And you’re the cutest little sister in the world.)

With sweet laughter and even sweeter bites, we made our way back home, hearts full and hands heavy with bags of treasures.

On the other side

Malik mansion

Author's pov

The Malik Mansion stood tall and proud, a majestic blend of traditional elegance and modern luxury. Sunlight streamed through the enormous arched windows, casting intricate patterns on the polished marble floors. The chandeliers above shimmered like a cascade of diamonds, while the faint aroma of jasmine incense lingered in the air. The house was alive with activity, its halls filled with the soft hum of conversations, the rustle of papers, and the occasional clang of silverware. The energy was palpable—after all, a wedding in the family was no small affair.

In the grand living room, Sabrina Malik, the matriarch of the house, sat gracefully on a plush velvet sofa. Draped in a soft chiffon saree of pastel gold with delicate embroidery, she looked every bit the regal woman she was known to be. A pearl necklace adorned her neck, complementing her neatly tied bun. The side table beside her held an intricately carved telephone, its brass accents gleaming under the light.

After a moment of thought, Sabrina picked up the phone and dialed Haniya, Inayah’s mother. Her movements were deliberate and graceful, her poise unwavering.

“Asalamualaikum,” Sabrina greeted warmly, her voice carrying a tone of respect and affection.

“Walaikumasalam,” came Haniya’s cheerful response from the other end.

Sabrina smiled softly. Though unseen, the warmth in her expression was evident in her voice. “Kaisi hain aap,  (How are you)

“Main achi hoon, aur aap?” (I’m well, and you?) Haniya asked, her tone light and welcoming.

“Alhamdulillah,” Sabrina replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. After a pause, she leaned forward slightly, her voice growing a touch more formal. “Ji, ek rasam hoti hai ki ladki ke ghar uski saas shaadi se pehle kuch tohfe dene aati hai. Hum ye rasam aaj hi karna chahte hain.” (There is a tradition where the groom’s mother visits the bride’s house before the wedding to present some gifts. We would like to perform this ritual today.)

“Ji, zarur, bilkul. Jab aapka man chahe, tab aa jaayein,” (Yes, of course. Come whenever it’s convenient for you.) Haniya replied with genuine hospitality.

Sabrina’s smile deepened. “Ji, hum dopher ke 3 baje tak, inshallah, wahan maujood honge. Aap kuch zyada tayariyan mat kijiyega.” (We will be there by 3 PM, inshallah. Please don’t go through too much trouble preparing for us.)

“Ji, zarur,” Haniya agreed warmly.

“Allah hafiz,” the two women said in unison, ending the call on a note of mutual respect.

Placing the receiver back on the table, Sabrina adjusted her hinab over her head her gaze sweeping across the room. The sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains created a soft, golden glow, illuminating the luxurious furniture and the intricately patterned Persian rugs.

“Haroon beta,” Sabrina called out, her voice calm but commanding.

Haroon, appeared from the hallway. His sharp features and neatly pressed kurta reflected the discipline and grace she valued in her family. “Ji, Badi Maa?” (Yes, Aunt?) he responded with a smile.

“Aap free hain? Toh zara humare family jeweller ke paas chale jaiye aur wahan se jo order pe jewellery banwayi thi woh le aaiye.” (Are you free? If so, please go to our family jeweler and collect the custom jewelry we had ordered.) Her tone left no room for delay.

“Ji, Badi Maa, main ye kaam kar dunga,” (Yes, Aunt, I’ll take care of it.) Haroon replied respectfully before heading out.

Satisfied, Sabrina turned her attention to the faint rustling of papers coming from the dining room. Her husband and brother-in-law were busy finalizing the guest list, their heads bent over a long sheet of names. Beside them, Aaban and Damin, the younger boys of the family, were huddled over the table, offering suggestions with an air of youthful enthusiasm.

Noticing Hadi passing by, Sabrina called out to him softly. “Hadi beta.”

“Ji, Badi Maa?” (Yes, Aunt?) he responded promptly, his warm smile reflecting his eagerness to help.

“Aapko jo mithaiyon ki list maine di thi, woh le aaye?” (Did you bring the sweets from the list I gave you?) she asked, her tone gentle yet firm.

“Ji, Badi Maa, aap bilkul pareshan na ho. Sab tayar hai.” (Yes, Aunt, don’t worry. Everything is ready.) Hadi replied confidently.

A satisfied smile graced Sabrina’s lips. “Alhamdulillah,” she whispered, her heart swelling with gratitude for her family’s unity and dedication.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the grand staircase. Sabrina turned sharply, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Abeeha rushing down like a whirlwind.

“Abeeha!” she called out, her voice a mix of sternness and affection. The young girl froze mid-step, her wide eyes meeting Sabrina’s sharp gaze.

Sabrina reached out, gently pulling Abeeha’s ear. “Kitni dafa kaha hai, aram se chala karo. Chot lag jaayegi toh?” (How many times have I told you to walk carefully? What if you get hurt?)

“Sorry, Badi Mumma,” Abeeha mumbled, pouting adorably.

Sabrina chuckled softly and released her ear. “Chalo, ab batao, itni jaldi mein kya tha?” (Now tell me, what was the hurry?)

Grinning sheepishly, Abeeha said, “Badi Mumma, aapko toh pata hai na? Aapne toh aakhri waqt mein bomb phoda ki hum bhi aapke saath chalenge. Kapde wagaira kuch ready hi nahi hain!” (You know, Aunt, you dropped the bomb at the last minute that we’ll go with you. Nothing is ready!)

Sabrina laughed, a light sound full of affection. “Meri bachi, aapke aur Sidra ke kapde humne kamre mein rakh diye hain. Aap Sidra ko bula lijiye aur kehna, Badi Maa bula rahi hain.” (My dear, your and Sidra’s clothes are already kept in your room. Call Sidra and tell her I am calling her.)

Abeeha leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Sabrina’s cheek before darting off. Sabrina watched her go with a soft smile, her heart swelling with love for her family.

The house hummed with energy and purpose, every corner bustling with the promise of a joyous occasion. As Sabrina oversaw the preparations, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. Alhamdulillah, she thought, her heart brimming with pride and love for the family she had nurtured.

Time skip One hour later

Author’s POV

Sifna and Inayah arrived home to a sight that felt like stepping into a dream. The entire house was adorned with fragrant marigolds and delicate jasmine flowers, their soft petals forming intricate patterns on the walls and staircases. The faint aroma of roses mixed with the freshness of lilies lingered in the air, creating an ambiance that was both festive and serene. The golden glow of the hanging fairy lights added an ethereal charm, making the home look like a piece of paradise.

As they stepped through the grand wooden doors, they were greeted by the sound of bustling activity. Servants hurried past with trays of sweets, decorators adjusted the flower garlands, and faint laughter echoed from the kitchen where the women of the house were preparing snacks.

In the center of the chaos stood Haniya, their mother, dressed in a simple but elegant saree, her dupatta pinned neatly over her shoulder. She was directing everyone with a mixture of authority and care. Her voice carried across the room, firm yet polite. “Bhaiya, yeh phool yahan mat lagao, woh saamne waali railing par lagao,” (Brother, don’t put these flowers here; place them on the railing in the front.) she instructed the florist, her hands gesturing to make her point clear.

The moment she spotted Inayah and Sifna, her gaze softened but her tone remained commanding. “Inayah beta, jao, ab jaldi se tayar ho jao. Baaki ka kaam tumhare papa aur main dekh lenge,” (Inayah dear, go and get ready quickly. Your father and I will handle the rest of the work.) she said, her voice tinged with both urgency and affection.

Inayah gave a small nod, adjusting her dupatta. “Jarahi hoon, mom,” (I’m going, mother,) she replied, her tone slightly weary from the long day. Without waiting for further instructions, she grabbed Sifna’s hand and led her upstairs.

Haniya watched them leave, her eyes narrowing slightly as her expression shifted to one of disdain. Her thoughts betrayed the smile she wore moments ago. Bas ek baar teri shaadi ho jaaye, Inayah, phir dekhna, is manhoos Sifna ke saath kya karti hoon. (Once your wedding is over, Inayah, just wait and see what I do with this cursed Sifna.)

Meanwhile, Inayah and Sifna entered their shared room, a cozy haven amidst the bustling chaos downstairs. The room was dimly lit with warm tones of gold and cream, the faint scent of lavender wafting from a candle on the bedside table. Dropping their bags, they both collapsed onto the plush mattress, the weight of the day finally catching up to them.

“Jaao, jaao, dida,” (Go, go, big sister,) Sifna teased lightly, her voice playful but exhausted. “Jaldi se nahalo, phir main bhi nahaaungi.” (Take a quick bath, and then I’ll go.)

Inayah let out a tired laugh, rolling her eyes. “Haan, ja rahi hoon,” (Yes, I’m going,) she replied, pushing herself off the bed and grabbing her fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.

Left alone, Sifna’s smile faded as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts growing heavy. The distant chatter from downstairs faded into the background as she closed her eyes, whispering softly to herself, “Ya Allah, main nahi jaanti ab kya hone wala hai, lekin sab kuch accha hi rakhna. Ameen.” (Oh Allah, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but please keep everything good. Amen.)

With that, she let out a deep sigh, her lips forming a silent prayer as the chaos outside their room continued. The faint sound of running water from the bathroom and the gentle hum of activity from downstairs filled the air, but for a moment, all she could feel was the weight of her emotions and the hope she clung to for the uncertain days ahead.

Sifna's pov

The soft patter of water echoed in the quiet room as Di emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair cascading like silk ribbons over her shoulders. She looked refreshed, her face glowing softly as she adjusted her towel. Her voice broke the stillness, light and teasing.

"Jaa, Sif. Jaake naha le (Go, Sif. Go take a bath)," she said, her smile warm but mischievous.

"Ji, dida (Yes, sister)," I replied softly, rising from the bed. As I stepped into the bathroom, the warmth of the room embraced me. The steam lingered in the air, swirling gently around me like an invisible veil. I turned on the shower, and as the warm water cascaded over my skin, a sigh escaped my lips. It was as though every worry, every thought weighing on my mind, melted away with the droplets. This was my sanctuary—a brief escape from the chaos of preparation outside.

After what felt like a blissful eternity, I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping myself in a soft, fluffy bathrobe. I could still feel the warmth of the water on my skin as I began drying my hair with a towel. The strands clung stubbornly to the fabric, and I let out a frustrated sigh as Di's voice cut through the room again.

"Jitne lambe tere baal hai, do ghante lag jayenge sukhane mein! (Your hair is so long, it’ll take two hours to dry!) Aaj baith, main dryer se sukha deti hoon (Sit today, I'll dry it with the dryer)," she said, her tone half-serious, half-amused.

I couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Di, tayar aap mujhe aise kar rahi ho jaise aapki nahi, meri saas aa rahi ho (Sister, you’re getting me ready as if your mother-in-law, not mine, is coming)," I teased, throwing her a mock-serious look.

She burst into laughter, her voice filling the room with warmth. "Arey, dulhan ki behen bhi toh khoobsurat dikhni chahiye (Hey, the bride’s sister also has to look beautiful)!" she said, her tone playful yet affectionate.

I sighed in mock defeat, sitting down as she grabbed the hairdryer. The gentle hum of the dryer filled the air as she worked her magic, taming my long hair with precision and care. Once we were done, the faint sound of knocking startled us both.

"Darwaza kaun khatkhataraha hai (Who’s opening the door)?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"I’ll check," I replied, making my way to the door. As I opened it, Ammi stood there, her expression unreadable. She gave me a fleeting glance, her brows furrowing slightly in what seemed like disapproval. Without a word, she pushed past me gently, her eyes already searching the room.

"Inayah, yeh kya hai (Inayah, what is this)? Jaldi tayar ho jao! Bas ek ghante mein aane waale hain woh (Get ready quickly! They’re coming in just one hour)," Ammi said, her voice brisk yet calm. She glanced around the room before leaving as quickly as she had come.

Di and I exchanged a look, her eyes wide with a mix of humor and urgency. "Chalo, shuru ho jao (Come on, let’s start)," she said, pulling out her dress from the neatly stacked pile.

I followed suit, pulling out my own attire—a stunning pastel pink gown with a jacket-like overlay adorned with intricate silver embroidery. The flowing chiffon underneath added a soft, ethereal vibe, while the crystal-encrusted belt at the waist gave it an exquisite, regal touch. It was a dress that made me feel like I’d stepped out of a dream.

We both dressed in silence, the anticipation of the evening adding a touch of nervous energy to the air. Once we were ready, we began styling our hijabs. Di’s skilled hands worked swiftly, crafting elegant folds that framed her face beautifully. She helped me pin mine, her touch gentle yet firm. The mirror reflected two figures—sisters, almost like reflections, yet distinct in their own ways.

"Yeh lo (Here, take this)," Di said, holding out a pair of dazzling bracelets which we bought earlier . My eyes widened as I took in the intricate beauty of the pieces. The first was a delicate bangle shaped like a sleek, encrusted nail, glittering with countless tiny diamonds that caught the light with every movement. The second was slightly wider, adorned with an exquisite pattern of polished circles, framed by a bed of sparkling stones.

"Pehno, aur dekhna, log tareef karte reh jayenge (Wear these, and watch how people won’t stop complimenting you)!" she added with a playful grin.

I slid the  one bracelet onto my wrist,  and the other di slided on her wrist, their cool metal a stark contrast to the warmth of my skin. They felt elegant yet bold, a perfect blend of modernity and tradition. As I admired them, I couldn’t help but smile at how they completed my look, adding a touch of brilliance to my pastel gown.

Di’s laughter filled the room once more as she stepped back to admire our handiwork.

And in that moment, as we stood together, I realized that this wasn’t just preparation for an event. It was a memory, a moment of shared love and laughter that I would carry with me forever.

Sifna’s outfit

Inayah's outfit

Sifna’s footwear

Inayah's footwear

The bracelet pair

Jewellery of inayah

Jewellery of sifnaa

Time skip at 3:00pm

In the khan's villa

Author's pov

It was 3:00 pm, and the air in the Khan’s villa was thick with excitement. The sun cast a warm golden hue through the large windows of the house, illuminating the rooms with a soft, tranquil glow. The grand villa, with its high ceilings and marble floors, seemed to hum with a quiet energy as preparations for the day continued. Staff members moved briskly, arranging flowers, placing fine china, and adjusting the soft, elegant drapery that adorned the windows. The house was immaculate—each detail carefully curated, from the polished antique furniture to the delicate chandeliers hanging above. The scent of fresh jasmine and roses mingled in the air, creating a sense of understated luxury.

Up in the balcony, Sifna was busy capturing the moment on her camera, photographing her beloved Dida as she sat in her usual chair, smiling with grace and poise. The serene environment outside seemed at odds with the buzz inside the house, but Sifna was lost in the simple joy of her task. Her lens captured the rich hues of the sunset sky, the shimmer of the villa’s marble flooring below, and the elegant woman she adored.

Suddenly, her focus shifted as the sound of multiple engines roaring in unison reached her ears. She instinctively turned, narrowing her gaze as she saw several black luxury cars pull up to the villa. The driveway filled quickly, the vehicles sleek and polished, each one more impressive than the last. Her heart skipped a beat as she instinctively reached for Inayah’s hand, pulling her sister  gently into the room.

"Inayah di , yahi raho," Sifna whispered urgently, her voice a mix of excitement and concern. ("Stay here, Inayah di .")

Inayah blinked, confused by Sifna’s sudden reaction. "Kon woh?" she asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity. ("Who?")

Sifna gave her a look that could only be described as a mix of impatience and exasperation. "Aapke sasural wale, yaar! Bhul ki jati ho aap. Aap hone wali dulhan ho," she said, her words laced with teasing affection. ("Your in-laws, you fool! You forget so easily. You're the soon-to-be bride.")

Sifna’s excitement was palpable. "U know, di," she said, her voice brightening with enthusiasm. "At least eight cars are there . Can you believe it?"

Inayah’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Baap re baap," she muttered. "Pura khandan rasam karne ke liye aa gaya hai?" ("Oh my God, the whole family is here for the ceremony?")

The sound of voices in the hallway signaled the arrival of the Malik family, and Inayah’s parents hurried to the entrance, their faces bright with welcoming smiles. They greeted the Malik family warmly, offering gestures of respect as they ushered them inside. The air seemed to shift as the two families came together, their presence filling the house with anticipation and significance.

In the living room, the scene was a perfect blend of elegance and formalities. Inayah’s mother guided the guests inside, while the soft murmur of polite conversation filled the space. But even in the midst of the bustle, two pairs of eyes stood out. Abeeha and Sidra, standing at a distance, couldn’t seem to focus on anything else but one person. Their gaze was fixed on the empty space in the room, their expressions betraying their anxiety.

Abeeha, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned closer to Sidra and whispered, "Yaar, ye ladki kaha reh gayi?" Her voice was barely a murmur, but it carried the weight of her concern. ("Hey, where has that girl gone?")

Sidra’s eyes scanned the room once more before she responded, her voice just as soft. "Pata nahi... Par Sifna ka kuch pata nahin chal raha. She should be here by now." ("I don’t know... But we can’t find Sifna anywhere. She should be here by now.")

The room was alive with quiet chatter, yet there was an unmistakable tension hanging in the air. As Abeeha and Sidra exchanged glances, they both knew that Sifna’s absence wasn’t just a matter of missed timing—it was a reflection of something far deeper, something unspoken, that neither of them could quite place. The scene in the villa, with all its elegance and anticipation, felt almost surreal. The long-awaited union of two families, the careful orchestration of each detail, and yet, in the midst of it all, there was something missing—a moment that hadn’t yet arrived. And that moment was only just beginning to unfold.

Abeeha’s outfit

Sidra’s outfit

Abeeha’s footwear

Sidra’s footwear

So the chapter is over u all are waiting for marriage so be excited for next chapter the time is near. Next chapter they are getting married

And yeah follow my instagram account please i am gonna upload spoilers

Take care of everyone bye..

See you all soon