Author Pov
The moment the car carrying Meher and Zaryab disappeared beyond the gates of Sultan Mansion, another storm erupted inside Khan Mansion.
A loud slap echoed through the bedroom.
"Bas!" Mr. Iltaf Sultan's thunderous voice shook the entire room. "Har ghalat cheez par zid karna theek nahin hota, Aiman!"
His face burned with anger as he glared at his daughter. Veins stood out on his forehead, and disappointment was written all over his face.
Aiman sat on the edge of her bed, her guest dress completely ruined by tears. Her kajal had smudged beneath her swollen red eyes, tissues were scattered all over the room, and her hair had become messy from constantly running her fingers through it. She looked nothing like the confident girl who had walked into Meher's room with a devilish smile only a short while ago. Now she looked shattered—not because Zaryab had gotten married, but because he had married Meher.
"Mujhe Zaryab chahiye, Mama..." she cried between sobs, clutching the bedsheet tightly. "Please... I love him... I can't live without him..."
Mrs. Rida sultan, who had been silently listening until now, finally lost her patience.
"Oh, bas bhi karo!"
Her sharp voice made Aiman flinch. Rida stood up from the sofa, folded her arms across her chest, and looked directly into her daughter's tear-filled eyes.
"Zaryab... Zaryab... Zaryab... Ab sirf usi ka naam reh gaya hai tumhari zubaan par."
She took a step forward.
"Jab hum ne tumhara rishta Zaryab ke saath karna chaha tha, tab kis ne mana kiya tha? Tum ne! Tum hi thi na jo har waqt kehti phirti thi ke tum sirf Majid se shaadi karogi."
Aiman lowered her gaze.
"Tum ne khud sab ke saamne Zaryab ko reject kiya tha. Kyun? Kyun ke tumhein Majid se mohabbat thi."
Rida let out a bitter laugh.
"Aur phir Majid ne kya kiya? Us ne kisi aur se Nikah kar liya. Tumhein chhor diya. Ek baar mud kar bhi nahin dekha."
Those words pierced straight through Aiman's heart. Her fingers curled into tight fists as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
"He betrayed me..." she whispered brokenly.
"Haan," Rida replied without sympathy. "Us ne tumhein dhoka diya. Lekin iska matlab yeh nahin ke tum kisi aur ki zindagi barbaad kar do."
Before she could say another word, Aiman suddenly stood up.
"So what?" she shouted through her tears. "So what if I refused? Agar Meher ki Mama usay majboor kar sakti hain... toh aap log mujhe kyun nahin kar sake?"
The room fell silent.
Even Rida stared at her daughter in disbelief.
Mr. Iltaf slowly closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead as though asking Allah for patience. After several long moments, he finally looked at Aiman again. The anger in his eyes had faded, replaced only by deep disappointment.
"Lo..." he laughed bitterly. "Bas yahi sunna baqi reh gaya tha."
He pointed a finger toward her.
"Tum chahti thi hum tumhein zabardasti kisi se Nikah kar dete? Taa ke aaj tum bhi hum par wohi ilzaam lagati jo Meher apne walidain par laga rahi hai?"
Aiman remained silent.
"Tumhein andaza bhi hai tum kya keh rahi ho?" His voice grew louder. "Tumhari zid ne tumhari zindagi barbaad ki. Hum ne nahin... tum ne."
Every word struck Aiman like another slap.
She shook her head frantically.
"No... No... I love him... I deserve him... I deserve Zaryab..."
"Enough!"
Mr. Iltaf's voice roared across the room.
"Zaryab ab tumhara nahin hai!"
"Woh Meher ka shohar hai."
"Samjhi tum?"
"Unka Nikah ho chuka hai."
"Islam us rishte ko muqaddas banata hai."
"Tum un dono ke darmiyan kabhi nahin aaogi."
He pointed angrily toward the door.
"Aur agar tum ne dobara aisi koi harkat ki... I swear... I'll never forgive you."
For the first time in her life, Aiman saw genuine disappointment in her father's eyes.
He looked exhausted.
Broken.
He took one final look at her before turning away.
"Rida," he said tiredly, "sambhalo apni is khudsar beti... is se pehle ke main apne aap par qaboo kho doon."
Without waiting for another reply, he walked out of the room.
The loud slam of the door echoed behind him.
Silence filled the room.
A painful...
Heavy...
Unbearable silence.
Rida remained standing where she was for several moments before slowly walking toward her daughter. Stopping only a few inches away, she looked directly into Aiman's eyes.
"Tum meri baat dhyan se suno."
Her voice was frighteningly calm.
"Tum Meher aur Zaryab se door rahogi."
Aiman stubbornly looked away.
"I'm talking to you!" Rida snapped.
Unwillingly, Aiman looked back.
"Tum un dono ki zindagi mein dobara dakhal dene ki koshish bhi nahin karogi."
She leaned slightly closer.
"Warna..."
"Mujh se bura koi nahin hoga."
For the first time, Aiman saw something different in her mother's eyes.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
A warning.
A real warning.
Rida took one last deep breath before silently turning around and leaving the room.
Click.
The door closed.
The room became silent once again. Aiman slowly sat back down on the bed. The moment she heard the lock click... Her tears stopped.
Completely.
She slowly wiped her cheeks. Then lifted her eyes toward the mirror. Her own reflection stared back at her.
Broken.
Humiliated.
Rejected.
Slowly...Very slowly...Her lips curled into a dangerous smile.
A smile filled with hatred.
Jealousy.
Obsession.
"Meher..." she whispered venomously.
"I hate you."
"If you hadn't come between us..."
"Zaryab would have been mine."
Her fingers dug painfully into the bed-sheet until her knuckles turned white.
"I won't lose."
"I've already lost Majid."
"I'm not going to lose Zaryab too."
She stood in front of the mirror, staring at herself with burning eyes.
"You think you've won?"
A cold laugh escaped her lips.
"No..."
"This is only the beginning."
Her eyes landed on a wedding photograph lying on the dressing table. Without a second thought, she picked it up. The picture showed Meher dressed as a bride. Hatred flashed across Aiman's face. With trembling hands, she tore the photograph straight down the middle.
Rip.
Then again.
Rip.
Again.
Rip.
Tiny pieces of paper fluttered to the floor like broken dreams. Her breathing became heavier. Her eyes glowed with madness."I swear, Meher..."
"I will snatch Zaryab away from you."
"No matter what I have to do."
"No matter who gets hurt."
"If I can't have him..."
Her smile widened into something frightening.
"...then I won't let you have him either."
Outside the room, dark clouds slowly gathered across the night sky. A flash of lightning split the heavens, followed by a low rumble of thunder. As though even nature had sensed that this wasn't the end of the story...It was only the beginning of a far more dangerous war.
⁂—————————————⁂
Zaryab Rizvi Pov
When I opened his eyes the next morning, I lay still for a moment, momentarily forgetting that I had gotten married the day before. Slowly, the memories of the Nikah and the emotional whirlwind of the previous day returned to him. Before I could gather his thoughts, I became aware of the warmth beside me. Meher was asleep, lying close to me, her peaceful presence making me acutely aware of her nearness.
For a brief second, my mind went completely blank. Instinctively, I turned, intending to create some distance between them. But as I shifted, Meher unconsciously snuggled even closer in her sleep. My heartbeat immediately became uneven. I let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself. This girl, without even realizing it, had completely disrupted his composure. Her soft, rhythmic breathing caused her chest to rise and fall gently, and because she was resting so close against Me, each movement brushed lightly against my own chest, making me even more conscious of her presence.
my heart pounded harder than before.
So what if I couldn't see?
I could still feel.
Very carefully, I turned slightly toward her and slipped one hand beneath her neck, gently adjusting her position so she would be more comfortable. Her body shifted slightly upward with the movement, and before I realized it, she had settled completely into the shelter of my embrace.
With her face resting against My chest, Meher continued sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of how close she had come to me. She remained lost in her dreams, her breathing slow and steady, while I stayed awake, silently listening to the sound of her breaths and the rapid beating of my own heart. I closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the unfamiliar emotions stirring within him, careful not to disturb the peaceful sleep of the woman who had unknowingly found comfort in my arms.
⁂—————————————⁂
Author pov
Meanwhile, I kept my eyes closed, trying to calm the unfamiliar emotions stirring deep within him as I quietly sensed my wife's presence beside me. Almost unconsciously, both of my hands found their way around Meher's slender waist. The instant my palms encircled it, I froze. It felt as though I had just discovered a priceless treasure—something unbelievably delicate resting safely within his grasp.
My heartbeat quickened.
I couldn't see her.
But I could feel her.
Her warmth.
Her nearness.
The softness of her body.
The gentle rise and fall of her breathing against my chest.
Every tiny sensation made my heart race even faster. Without realizing it, I drew her a little closer, carefully cradling her in the safety of his embrace. Meher remained fast asleep, her face tucked against My chest, completely unaware of the storm of emotions she had unknowingly awakened inside me.
For a brief moment, I forgot everything.
All I could feel was the innocent warmth of the woman sleeping peacefully in my arms.
I bit down lightly on my lower lip, trying to steady my wildly beating heart. Holding her so close felt strangely comforting—dangerously comforting. It was as if I had been entrusted with the most precious treasure in the world, one I feared even breathing too heavily might break.
Slowly, I found himself drifting into a strange, almost trance-like state, silently memorizing every sensation that his eyes could never give him.
Then...
Meher stirred in her sleep.
Resting against My chest had made it slightly difficult for her to breathe. She shifted uneasily, letting out a soft, sleepy sigh before slowly opening her eyes.
Her vision remained blurred for a moment. Still trapped between sleep and wakefulness, she blinked lazily, trying to understand where she was. Her gaze landed on the broad chest beneath her. Then slowly travelled upward. To my face.
So close.
For one long, confusing second...
Her sleepy mind refused to process what she was seeing.
I think She had completely forgotten that she had gotten married the previous day. Her brows knitted together in confusion as she stared at the unfamiliar face before her.
"...Who are you?" she murmured softly, her voice still thick with sleep.
The innocent question caught my completely off guard.
my body went still. For a heartbeat, I didn't know whether to laugh at her innocence... or remind her that I was now her husband.
she asked softly, her eyes only half open as she gently cupped My face between her palms.
The unexpected touch startled me, causing my eyes to fly open.
Meher might have awakened, but her mind was still clouded with sleep. She didn't even realize how close she was to me or that she had already made me acutely aware of her presence.
As she looked into my bright eyes, a slight frown appeared on her forehead.
Meanwhile, for a moment... I forgot how to breathe.
A slight frown appeared on her forehead. For a brief moment, she felt as though his eyes were scanning her entire body like an X-ray.
Meanwhile, Zaryab kept his eyes closed, trying to calm the unfamiliar emotions stirring deep within him as he quietly sensed his wife's presence beside him. Almost unconsciously, both of his hands found their way around Meher's slender waist. The instant his palms encircled it, he froze. It felt as though he had just discovered a priceless treasure—something unbelievably delicate resting safely within his grasp.
His heartbeat quickened.
He couldn't see her.
But he could feel her.
Her warmth.
Her nearness.
The softness of her body.
The gentle rise and fall of her breathing against his chest.
Every tiny sensation made his heart race even faster. Without realizing it, he drew her a little closer, carefully cradling her in the safety of his embrace. Meher remained fast asleep, her face tucked against his chest, completely unaware of the storm of emotions she had unknowingly awakened inside him.
For a brief moment, Zaryab forgot everything.
The betrayal.
The painful Nikah.
The harsh words she had spoken.
The cold distance between them.
All he could feel was the innocent warmth of the woman sleeping peacefully in his arms.
He bit down lightly on his lower lip, trying to steady his wildly beating heart. Holding her so close felt strangely comforting—dangerously comforting. It was as if he had been entrusted with the most precious treasure in the world, one he feared even breathing too heavily might break.
Slowly, he found himself drifting into a strange, almost trance-like state, silently memorizing every sensation that his eyes could never give him.
Then...
Meher stirred in her sleep.
Resting against his chest had made it slightly difficult for her to breathe. She shifted uneasily, letting out a soft, sleepy sigh before slowly opening her eyes.
Her vision remained blurred for a moment.
Still trapped between sleep and wakefulness, she blinked lazily, trying to understand where she was.
Her gaze landed on the broad chest beneath her.
Then slowly travelled upward.
A man's face.
So close.
For one long, confusing second...
Her sleepy mind refused to process what she was seeing.
She had completely forgotten that she had gotten married the previous day.
Her brows knitted together in confusion as she stared at the unfamiliar face before her.
"...Who are you?" she murmured softly, her voice still thick with sleep.
The innocent question caught Zaryab completely off guard.
His body went still.
For a heartbeat, he didn't know whether to laugh at her innocence... or remind her that he was now her husband.
A slight frown appeared on her forehead. Still half-asleep, she looked into my face, and for a fleeting moment, an odd feeling washed over her. It almost felt as though my sightless eyes were looking straight through her, scanning every inch of her like an X-ray. The strange sensation sent a wave of embarrassment through her.
Her eyes widened.
Suddenly realizing how close we were, she quickly pulled herself away from me and sat upright on the bed. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as memories of waking up in his embrace made her heart race uncontrollably. In a hurry, she grabbed the dupatta lying nearby and wrapped it securely around herself before standing on trembling feet, unable to bring herself to look at me again.
I slowly sat up as well, running a hand through my slightly messy hair while silently trying to regain control over the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm me just moments ago. Neither of us remembered how we had ended up sleeping so close to one another. we had gone to sleep with miles of emotional distance between us, yet somehow, in the innocence of sleep, that distance had disappeared.
Keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, Meher quietly walked toward the washroom, too flustered to utter a single word. Behind her, I placed a hand over his still-racing heart and let out a faint, almost helpless smile. For the first time in a long while, despite everything that had happened between us, my morning had begun with a warmth I knew I would never forget.
⁂—————————————⁂
Meher Sultan Pov
The moment I stepped inside the washroom, I quietly closed the door behind me.
Click.
The soft sound echoed through the silent room as I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes tightly. For several long moments, I simply stood there, trying to steady my uneven breathing. My heart refused to calm down.
Why...?
Why did I end up so close to him?
Slowly, I lifted a trembling hand to my forehead and let out a shaky breath.
Ya Allah...
How had I fallen asleep in his arms? How had I let myself get that close?
The memory replayed in my mind once again—waking up with my face resting against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the way his arms had unknowingly surrounded me. My cheeks instantly burned crimson.
"No..." I whispered to myself, shaking my head. "What were you doing, Meher? He is just..." My voice trailed off before I could finish the sentence.
My husband.
The realization made my heart beat even faster.
"No..." I muttered again, desperately trying to chase those thoughts away. "I don't care... I can't."
"They lied to me."
"They all lied to me."
The warmth I had felt only moments ago vanished, replaced by the sharp sting of betrayal. My eyes slowly filled with tears. I had promised myself that I would never forgive anyone—not my family, and not the man whose name had now become forever linked with mine. Even if none of this had truly been his fault, my wounded heart refused to believe it. Every time I remembered the truth they had hidden from me, the pain returned all over again.
Taking a deep, unsteady breath, I slowly pushed myself away from the door.
"I have to get ready..."
There was a reception waiting ....
Another day of pretending.
Another day of smiling while my heart silently bled.
Without allowing myself another thought, I walked beneath the shower. Warm water poured over my body, washing away the traces of sleep but failing to wash away the heaviness crushing my heart. I stood beneath the falling water for what felt like forever, allowing the stream to hide the tears that continued to slip down my cheeks.
By the time I stepped out, the washroom was filled with soft clouds of steam. Wrapping a white bathrobe securely around myself, I gently dried my damp hair before opening the washroom door and stepping into the bedroom.
The room was silent.
Empty.
Instinctively, my eyes searched every corner.
He wasn't there.
A strange feeling settled somewhere inside me.
Relief...
Or disappointment...
I couldn't even tell anymore.
Shaking the thought away, I walked toward the wardrobe. After searching through the dresses for a few moments, my fingers stopped on a breathtaking emerald-green gown. The rich satin shimmered beneath the morning sunlight, while delicate embroidery along the neckline added a timeless elegance. It was graceful. Simple. Yet breathtaking.
Quietly, I slipped into the gown before fastening a dazzling diamond necklace around my neck. Matching earrings sparkled beneath my softly curled hair, while a delicate diamond bracelet completed the look. Standing before the dressing table, I began applying my makeup with slow, careful movements—a touch of foundation, soft eyeshadow, a thin stroke of eyeliner, mascara, a gentle blush, and finally a muted rose lipstick.
When I tucked a loose curl behind my ear and slowly lifted my gaze toward the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
She looked beautiful.
Elegant.
Like every newlywed bride should.
Yet her eyes...
Her eyes still carried yesterday's heartbreak.
Just then—
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
My hands froze.
Slowly, I turned toward the bedroom door.
"It... it's open," I said softly.
The handle turned.
The door slowly opened.
And then...
He walked in.
For a single heartbeat...
Time itself seemed to stop.
Zaryab entered wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that hugged his tall, broad frame flawlessly. A crisp white shirt lay beneath the coat, while a deep emerald tie matched the shade of my gown so perfectly that it almost looked as though someone had planned it. His neatly styled hair, sharp jawline, and composed expression gave him an effortless elegance that commanded attention without him ever trying.
His black cane rested lightly in one hand as he stepped inside with quiet confidence, every movement measured, graceful, and dignified.
I forgot to breathe.
My eyes remained fixed on him.
Ya Allah...
How could someone look...
...this handsome?
I had seen him yesterday.
During the Nikah.
During the wedding.
But today...
Seeing him standing only a few feet away felt completely different.
My heart betrayed me.
It skipped one beat.
Then another.
I immediately scolded myself.
Stop it, Meher.
What are you doing?
Have you forgotten everything?
Have you forgotten the lies... the betrayal... the tears you shed because of him?
My fingers tightened around the edge of the dressing table until my knuckles turned white.
No.
I couldn't allow myself to be affected.
Not by his appearance.
Not by his quiet presence.
Not by the strange pull I couldn't explain.
Slowly, I straightened my shoulders and forced my expression back into a calm, emotionless mask, carefully hiding the storm raging inside my heart.
Across the room, Zaryab paused the very moment he sensed my presence.
Although he couldn't see me...
He could smell the delicate fragrance of jasmine lingering in the air.
He could hear the soft rustle of my gown as I shifted ever so slightly.
He could sense my hesitant breathing.
And somehow... Without needing his eyes...
He knew I was standing there.
A faint smile unconsciously tugged at the corner of his lips.
For a few long moments, neither of us spoke.
Silence settled between us, heavy yet strangely peaceful.
He stood only a few steps away, dressed in the elegant black tuxedo that somehow made him look even taller than before. The faint scent of his cologne drifted through the room, mixing with the fragrance of jasmine lingering around me.
Then, very slowly...
He took a step forward.
And another.
The soft tap of his cane echoed against the marble floor, each sound making my heartbeat grow louder inside my chest.
He stopped just an arm's length away from me. Without saying a word, he gently lifted his free hand and stretched it toward me.
His palm remained open, waiting.
His expression was calm, composed, almost unreadable.
"Ready?" he asked softly.
Just one word.
Yet hearing his deep, steady voice made something inside me tremble.
My eyes dropped to the hand waiting patiently for mine.
I stared at it.
My fingers twitched at my sides.
For a brief second, I wanted to refuse.
Without looking at him, I lowered my gaze and answered in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"...Hmm."
I wanted to remind myself of every lie... every tear... every promise I had made to my broken heart.
Don't forget, Meher.
Don't let your heart become weak.
But another part of me whispered that he wasn't forcing me.
He was simply waiting.
Giving me the choice to take his hand.
My breathing grew uneven.
Slowly...
Almost unwillingly...
I lifted my trembling hand.
There was a small distance between our hands.
Only a few inches.
Yet it felt like crossing an entire lifetime.
After a long hesitation, I finally placed my hand in his.
The moment our fingers touched...
A strange warmth spread through my palm.
His hand was warm.
Firm.
Protective.
He didn't grip it tightly. He simply held it with quiet gentleness, as though afraid I might pull away if he held on too firmly.
My heart skipped another beat.
Why...?
Why does this feel so different?
I immediately pushed the thought away.
No.
This changes nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He gave a small nod, as though that single word was enough. Without another question, he carefully adjusted his grip so I would be comfortable, then turned slightly toward the door.
Still holding my hand with quiet respect... He began leading me out of the room. And for reasons I couldn't understand...
Why I didn't pull my hand away.
⁂—————————————⁂
Later that evening, the grand reception of Zaryab and Meher was held at one of the city's most luxurious wedding halls. The magnificent venue shimmered beneath crystal chandeliers, while elegant floral arrangements and golden lights transformed the hall into something out of a fairytale. Guests from influential families, business circles, and close relatives arrived one after another, filling the atmosphere with congratulations and prayers.
Everywhere they went, people couldn't stop admiring the newlyweds.
"MashaAllah, what a beautiful couple."
"They look perfect together."
"May Allah always keep them happy."
The compliments continued endlessly as cameras flashed from every direction. But among the smiling faces stood one person whose heart burned with jealousy.
Aiman.
She stepped onto the reception stage wearing an expensive designer gown, yet no amount of elegance could hide the bitterness reflected in her eyes. The moment her gaze landed on Zaryab standing beside Meher, every ounce of happiness around her seemed to disappear.
Her chest tightened.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Watching Meher glowing in her bridal elegance, receiving admiration from everyone while standing beside the man Aiman now desperately wanted, filled her with unbearable resentment.
The smile on Meher's face—even if faint and forced—felt like a personal defeat to her.
Inside, jealousy burned like wildfire.
No one noticed the hatred hidden behind Aiman's graceful smile.
But in that very moment, she silently promised herself that this story was far from over.
Her radiant beauty told the entire story without saying a word.
They had become one.
Unlike yesterday, there was no discomfort or uneasiness on Meher's face today. Instead, she looked happy... as though she had accepted being with Zaryab.
And why wouldn't she be happy?
After all, she had been blessed with such a handsome and strong man. He might not have been able to see, but he was capable of everything else.
Standing at a distance, Aiman watched Meher while poisonous thoughts filled her mind.
She's looking so happy...
A bitter smile appeared on her lips.
"Looks like someone had quite a 'dose' last night with her blind husband."
Just then, Zaryab stood up with the help of his walking stick and carefully stepped down from the stage. The moment he walked away, Aiman fired another sarcastic remark.
The smile immediately disappeared from Meher's face.
"Aiman ..."
she said through clenched teeth,
"You should learn to speak a little more sweetly. It won't cost you anything."
Aiman folded her arms arrogantly.
"What did I say that's not wrong?"
Then she smirked.
"By the way... what did you get for your munh dikhai (bridal gift)?"
She let out a mocking laugh.
"I'm sure that blind man didn't give you anything."
"After all..."
"How could he? He can't even see your face."
"So what munh dikhai (bridal gift) could he have given you? He can't even see your face, can he?"
Aiman's mocking words pierced Meher's heart like another sharp arrow.
For a moment, Meher simply stared at her.
She couldn't believe how much poison one person could carry in her heart, her eyes, and her words.
Meher took a slow breath before replying calmly,
"No... he couldn't see my face."
She paused, and then a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"But he didn't let me sleep the entire night."
"He completely exhausted me with the intensity of his love."
"This morning, too, we spent time together in our room."
"Honestly, I never once felt that he couldn't see."
"In fact..."
"His boldness only kept making me blush."
Every confident word that left Meher's lips struck Aiman like a bolt of lightning.
Jealousy flared inside her.
Her face darkened with rage.
"Look at yourself..."
she muttered bitterly as she stood up.
"Acting as if your so special."
Burning with envy, Aiman stormed away from her.
Meher made a face at her retreating figure and turned her head—
Only to freeze.
Zaryab was standing very close to her.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Meher's heartbeat nearly stopped.
He didn't hear anything... did he?
No... he couldn't have.
She tried to reassure herself after looking at his expression.
Then she mentally slapped herself.
Why am I forgetting that my husband is blind... not deaf?
⁂—————————————⁂
Zaryab's POV
My entire presence seemed to fall into complete silence after Meher's sharp, fearless words to Aiman. For one brief moment, even I forgot to breathe. A faint smile threatened to appear on my lips before I could stop it.
So...
My little wife isn't as innocent as everyone believes.
The thought amused me far more than it should have.
Ever since our Nikah, she had barely spoken. Every word that left her lips carried pain, anger, or quiet sorrow. She always seemed so delicate... so fragile... as though one harsh breeze could break her completely. I had begun to believe that silence was simply a part of her nature.
But today...
She had proven me wrong.
There had been no hesitation in her voice.
No fear.
No trembling.
No lowered gaze.
There had only been confidence.
Strength.
Fire.
The same girl who had silently endured betrayal from the people she loved had just stood her ground without allowing anyone to trample over her dignity.
A strange warmth spread through my chest.
Almost unconsciously, my fingers tightened around the handle of my cane.
She think I couldn't see her.
I couldn't witness the expression on her face.
But I had heard every single word.
And sometimes...
A person's voice reveals far more than their face ever can.
The corner of my lips slowly lifted into a faint smirk.
Interesting...
Very interesting.
That girl...What was her name again?
Ai...Aiman.
Yes.
Aiman.
If I remembered correctly, she was Meher's cousin.
The same cousin whose voice carried an odd bitterness every time she spoke to Meher.
The same girl who had tried to provoke her.
And judging by the silence that followed...But Her plan had failed.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.
It seemed she had underestimated my little wife.
Even without my eyesight, I could almost picture the expression on her face. She had expected Meher to remain quiet. To endure every taunt she threw at her. Instead, my wife had answered her calmly, directly, and with enough confidence to leave her speechless.
For the first time since yesterday...
A quiet feeling of pride settled inside my heart.
Not because Meher had spoken for me.
But because she had spoken for herself.
She hadn't allowed anyone to humiliate her.
She hadn't sacrificed her self-respect just to keep the peace.
That alone earned my respect.
A soft chuckle almost escaped my lips, but I swallowed it before anyone could notice.
Standing beside me, Hamza leaned closer.
"What happened?" he whispered.
I slowly shook my head.
"Nothing."
He didn't know that inside me...
Everything had changed.
For the first time, I realized there was another side to Meher Sultan.
Behind the silence...
Lived a girl with enough courage to become a storm whenever someone challenged her dignity.
And somehow...
That realization made my heart admire her even more.
I lowered my head slightly, hiding the smile that refused to disappear.
Perhaps...
Allah had truly written someone extraordinary into my destiny. Someone who looked as gentle as moonlight... Yet possessed the strength of a raging storm.
My little wife...
Every passing moment makes my heart fall a little deeper.
⁂—————————————⁂
Author's Note
Assalamualaikum, everyone! 🤍
Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story. It truly means a lot to me. If you're enjoying the journey of Zaryab and Meher, please don't forget to vote, comment, and share your thoughts. Your support motivates me to write more.
🎯 Target: 100 Votes
Let's reach this milestone together! Thank you for being part of this journey.
With love,
Fiza ali khan❤️