Author's Note 🤍
Hi everyone! I know the recent chapters have been a little shorter than my previous ones, and I just wanted to explain why. My exams are coming up soon, so I want to finish this story as quickly as possible before I get too busy with my studies. Don't worry, though—this isn't a very long story, and there are still many beautiful, emotional, and romantic moments waiting for Meher and Zaryab.
Thank you all so much for your constant love, support, votes, and lovely comments. They truly motivate me to keep writing and mean more to me than you know. Please continue supporting this story until the very end. I love you all! 🤍
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Meher's Sultan POV
The next morning, the gentle rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, softly brushing against my face until my eyes slowly fluttered open. For a few peaceful moments, I simply lay there, enjoying the unfamiliar warmth surrounding me. Then it hit me—I wasn't alone. My gaze drifted downward, and I found myself resting comfortably against Zaryab's chest, his arm securely wrapped around my waist even in his sleep, holding me as though he was afraid I might disappear. A soft, unconscious smile curved my lips. Somehow, all the anger I had carried in my heart the previous night had vanished. The hurt, the frustration, the confusion... for this one quiet moment, none of it mattered. Carefully, I lifted my head to look at him. He was still sleeping peacefully, his face completely relaxed. Without the usual cold, unreadable expression he always wore, he looked younger... softer... almost innocent. Ya Allah... he was so handsome. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks while his slow, steady breathing made his chest rise and fall beneath me. I couldn't stop staring. My heart fluttered strangely inside my chest. A part of me wanted to smile... another part wanted to hide because I had been caught admiring my own husband.
Just as I was about to snuggle back into his embrace, a mischievous little idea popped into my head. Why not trouble Mr. Calm and Composed a little? The thought instantly brightened my mood. Biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing, I slowly slipped out of his embrace. Then, instead of moving carefully, I deliberately pulled away with a little more force than necessary.
It worked perfectly. Zaryab stirred almost immediately. His brows furrowed as he slowly woke up, instinctively reaching toward the empty space beside him. "Meher?" His voice was husky with sleep.
He pushed himself up slightly, confusion evident in his tone. "What happened?" I quickly turned my face away so he wouldn't catch the smile threatening to betray me. Pretending to be upset, I remained completely silent. "Meher?" he called again, sounding genuinely puzzled.
I still didn't answer. Climbing out of bed, I quietly walked toward the bathroom. "Did something happen?" he asked once more, his voice carrying a hint of concern. Without even glancing back, I entered the bathroom and softly closed the door behind me.
The moment the door clicked shut, I leaned my back against it and immediately covered my mouth, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling inside me. And standing behind the closed bathroom door, I couldn't help but smile to myself, secretly delighted that, for the very first time, I had managed to leave the ever-composed Mr. Zaryab Rizvi completely confused.
Sunday.
Today is Sunday Which means....
No office.
No meetings.
No endless stream of people waiting outside his study.
The entire mansion seemed quieter than usual, wrapped in the peaceful calm of a lazy morning.
Which meant... Mr. Zaryab Rizvi wasn't going anywhere today. A mischievous smile found its way onto my lips. Perfect. If he wasn't going to the office... Then today, I was definitely going to trouble him. After freshening up, I stepped beneath the warm shower, letting the water wash away the last traces of sleep.
A little while later, I wrapped myself in a soft white bathrobe that reached just below my knees before stepping out of the bathroom, gently drying my damp hair with a towel. I paused for a second.
Then laughed softly at myself. *What am I even thinking?* *He can't see me.* The thought should have made me feel completely comfortable. Yet... For reasons I couldn't explain... A tiny ache settled somewhere inside my heart. If only... No. Stop it, Meher. You're thinking too much again. I shook my head firmly, chasing the thought away. "Focus," I muttered to myself. "You have an important mission today." "Annoy your husband." I folded my arms thoughtfully.
"But... how?" For the next five minutes, I wandered around the room, deep in thought. Hide his cane? No... That would be cruel. Steal his phone? Too childish. Ignore him? Hmm... Maybe. After thinking and thinking... I still had absolutely no idea. I sighed dramatically. "So much planning..." "And not a single good idea." Giving up for the moment, I walked toward the wardrobe.
My eyes wandered over dozens of beautiful outfits before stopping on a delicate pink saree. A smile slowly appeared. "I haven't worn a saree since the wedding..." Mama had insisted I learn. *"Every girl should know how to wear one herself,"* she had always said with a smile. Thanks to her... I did. I took the saree out carefully before changing into the matching blouse and petticoat. Just as I picked up the long pink drape...
A memory flashed through my mind. ***
Flashback
We were children. The entire family had gathered in the garden. Me. Anam, Aiman, Faris And... Zaryab. We had been playing Truth or Dare. Faris spun the bottle. Round and round it went before finally stopping... Right in front of Zaryab.
"Oho..." Faris grinned mischievously. "Truth or Dare?"
"Truth." Zaryab answered without hesitation.
Faris's smile grew wider. He had clearly noticed something... Or rather... Someone.
Because every few minutes, I had caught Zaryab looking in my direction. Whenever I looked up... His gaze was already there.
Quiet.
Calm.
Watching.
I had quickly looked away every single time, pretending to focus on the game. Then Faris asked the question that made both Anam and me freeze. "What do you want most in your future wife after marriage?" "
Faris bhai!" Anam gasped. "What kind of question is that?" He only laughed.
Zaryab, however, remained completely composed. Not embarrassed.
Not flustered.
He answered as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. "I'd like to see her wearing a saree." The words made my cheeks grow warm. Unable to stop myself, I looked toward him. And the moment our eyes met... My breath caught. He was already looking directly at me. There was something in his gaze... Something I had never understood. ***
Flashback End
The memory disappeared as quickly as it had come. I blinked several times. My smile slowly faded. A new question settled inside my heart.
What had happened after that? How had he lost his eyesight?
How had Uncle and Aunty died?
No one ever spoke about it. Whenever his past came up... Everyone became quiet. I wanted to know. I wanted to understand.
But... How could I ask him? No. That would only reopen old wounds.
Then... Dad. Dad had been Uncle's closest friend. If anyone knew the truth... It would be him. "I'll ask Dad," I whispered to myself. "Maybe..."
"He'll tell me." Taking a deep breath, I wear skirt around myself before stepping out of the dressing area.
Zaryab was sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, seemingly lost in thought. His posture was relaxed, yet there was something distant about him. I slowly walked toward him until I stood directly in front of him.
Almost immediately... He sensed my presence. \
His head lifted.
Though his eyes couldn't see me, they instinctively turned toward where I stood. For a brief moment... I simply looked at him. His eyes were beautiful.
Unusually beautiful.
Deep.
Gentle.
Yet... There was no light in them. A quiet sadness settled inside my chest. Before I could stop myself, I found myself wondering what those eyes must have looked like before darkness claimed them.
His calm voice interrupted my thoughts. "Did you need something?" I blinked, realizing I had been staring at him.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Quickly composing myself, I cleared my throat.
"I... wanted to wear a saree." He waited patiently. "I know how to wear it," I admitted, "but I didn't know how to drape it properly today."
*Liar, Meher,* my conscience immediately scolded.
He remained silent for a few moments. Then slowly stood. The small distance between us disappeared. Without a word... He simply extended his hand. Wordlessly asking for the saree's loose end. I hesitated.
Then carefully placed the fabric into his hand. Unable to hold back my curiosity any longer, I asked softly, " you didn't ... know how to drape a saree?" A faint smile touched his lips.
He simply nodded.
My eyes widened. Without another word, he adjusted the pleats with practiced, careful movements. Every fold was arranged neatly, each step carried out with quiet confidence born from familiarity rather than sight. I stood perfectly still, watching him in amazement.
When he finally stepped back, I looked into the mirror. The saree fell gracefully, every pleat perfectly in place. A surprised smile escaped me. "It looks... beautiful." "It suits you," he replied simply. For a brief moment, neither of us spoke. Then, as though nothing unusual had happened, he quietly excused himself and walked toward the bathroom to get ready.
I watched the closed door for a second before smiling to myself.
Maybe... Troubling Mr. Zaryab Rizvi wasn't going to be as easy as I'd imagined. Chuckling softly, I turned toward the dressing table, finished my light makeup, and adjusted the final pin in my hair.
A few minutes later, I made my way downstairs. The aroma of freshly prepared breakfast filled the air long before I reached the kitchen. Inside, several chefs and servants were already busy preparing an elaborate Sunday breakfast, the room alive with the sounds of sizzling pans, clinking utensils, and cheerful conversation. Smiling politely, I stepped inside, ready to begin another day as Mrs Rizvi.
Zaryab Rizvi Pov
Confused.
That was the only word that could describe how I felt.
One moment, my little wife had been sleeping peacefully in my arms... And the next... She had pulled away from me so suddenly, refusing to answer a single one of my questions before disappearing into the bathroom.
I remained sitting on the edge of the bed, replaying those few seconds over and over in my mind. *Did I do something wrong?* The thought refused to leave me. Had I unknowingly made her uncomfortable? Perhaps I had held her too close while she slept.
Perhaps she hadn't liked waking up in my embrace. A heaviness settled inside my chest. I lowered my head and sighed quietly. "Idiot..." I muttered to myself. "You should have been more careful." No matter how much I wanted to keep her close... I never wanted her to feel trapped. If she was uncomfortable because of me... Then I had already failed as a husband. Lost in those thoughts, I barely noticed the bathroom door opening.
The soft sound of footsteps reached my ears. I instinctively looked up. And for one suspended heartbeat... The world around me disappeared. Meher stood only a few feet away. Her damp hair rested over her shoulders, tiny droplets of water slipping from the dark strands as they disappeared into the soft folds of the white bathrobe she wore.
Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, surrounding her in a warm golden glow that made her look almost unreal. She looked... Beautiful. No. Beautiful wasn't enough. She looked like someone come from a dream. For a dangerous moment, I simply stared.
Then reality struck me. Control yourself, Zaryab. No one could know the truth. Not yet. Before she could notice the direction of my gaze, I calmly looked away and rubbed the back of my neck, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Did you need something?" There was a brief silence.
Then she spoke softly. "I... wanted to wear a saree." I turned my attention back toward her. She hesitated before continuing. "I don't think I can drape it properly." The smallest smile threatened to appear on her lips. Liar. I had seen the mischief dancing in her eyes. She was trying to trouble me.
My naughty little wife.
Pretending not to notice, I stood up and quietly extended my hand. She placed the end of the saree into my hand without another word. "you didn't... know how to drape a saree?" she asked with genuine curiosity. I simply nodded. Years ago, i saw my father helping my mother to draped saree. Back then, I had admired their love.
Today... I silently thanked her. Carefully, I arranged each pleat with slow, practiced movements. I concentrated on the fabric, giving myself something to focus on besides the girl standing so close to me. Every now and then, our fingers brushed lightly as I adjusted the saree, and each accidental touch made it harder to keep my thoughts composed.
Finally... I stepped back. Meher turned toward the mirror. The soft pink saree draped around her gracefully, making her look effortlessly elegant. She stood there for a moment, quietly admiring the reflection. A small smile appeared on her face. "It looks beautiful," she whispered. "It suits you," I replied before I could stop myself.
For a second... She looked at me in surprise. Realizing I had said more than intended, I cleared my throat. "I'll... get ready." Without waiting for another word, I walked straight into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
The moment the door clicked shut, I leaned both hands against the sink and closed my eyes. "Ya Allah..." A helpless laugh escaped my lips. "What are you doing to me, Meher?" I took a long, steady breath, trying to calm the emotions she stirred so effortlessly within me.
After collecting myself, I changed into my usual attire and left the room. The bedroom was empty. A faint smile crossed my face. Knowing her... She was probably already downstairs. I made my way to the dining hall and took my usual seat at the head of the table. The mansion slowly came alive as servants carried breakfast dishes into the room.
A few moments later... The familiar fragrance of jasmine reached me before anything else. Then I heard the soft rustle of a bangles. My lips curved into the smallest smile. She had arrived. Meher entered alongside the servants carrying breakfast. After helping arrange a few dishes on the table, she quietly pulled out the chair beside mine and sat down without a word. Without looking directly at her, I couldn't help noticing one thing. The room somehow felt complete again. And so did I.
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The evening had settled peacefully over Rizvi Mansion. The golden rays of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows of my study, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. A file lay open before me, but my mind wasn't on the numbers printed across its pages. It was on her. Ever since morning, I had caught myself smiling for no reason.
The way she had tried to trouble me...
The way she had secretly watched me...
The way she had looked in that pink saree... Ya Allah... That woman had no idea what she was doing to my heart. A small smile tugged at my lips as I leaned back in my chair.
Just then... My phone vibrated on the desk. I glanced at the screen. The smile on my face disappeared instantly. The call was from one of my trusted men. Without wasting another second, I answered. "Yes." The voice on the other end spoke quickly. Every passing second caused the expression on my face to harden. "I'll be there."
The call ended. For a moment, I remained standing silently, staring at the phone in my hand. Looks like... Work couldn't wait. Taking a deep breath, I slipped the phone into my pocket then My fingers closed around the familiar pair of dark glasses, and with a quiet sigh, I slid them over my eyes. Reaching to the side, I picked up my walking stick, the cool metal settling comfortably in my hand. For a brief second, I simply stared at it, my heart feeling heavier than ever. How many more days? How much longer was I going to hide behind this disguise?
I had never wanted to lie to Meher.
Never.
From the very beginning, I had promised myself that I would tell her everything on our wedding night. I wanted to tell her that the man the entire world believed to be blind... could actually see again. I wanted to tell her about the successful surgery, the long months of recovery, and why I had chosen to keep my restored eyesight hidden from everyone. I had wanted our marriage to begin without secrets, because she deserved nothing less than complete honesty.
But everything changed the moment I saw the pain and anger in her eyes on the day of our Nikah. She had looked so betrayed, as though everyone she had trusted had stolen her right to choose her own future. If I had confessed the truth that very night, would she have believed me? Or would she have looked at me with the same hurt in her eyes and said that I had deceived her too? The thought alone made my chest tighten painfully. No... I couldn't risk it.
Not now. Not when she had only just begun lowering the walls around her heart. Every day she smiled a little more. Every day she trusted me a little more. Every day she unknowingly came one step closer to me. If I revealed everything now, what if all that fragile trust shattered? What if she thought every moment we had shared was built on another lie? What if she walked away from me before giving me a chance to explain?
No...
I couldn't bear that.
The thought of waking up in an empty room again... of never hearing her laughter echo through these halls... of never feeling her presence beside me... terrified me more than I cared to admit. Somewhere along the way, this mansion had stopped being just a house. It had become a home because she was in it. And without her... it would only become another empty building filled with silence.
Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I let out a slow, weary breath.
"Forgive me, Meher," I whispered into the quiet evening. "I never wanted to deceive you. I'm only asking Allah for a little more time... just until your heart trusts mine completely."
I knew that day would come. I would tell her everything—not because I had been forced to, but because she deserved the truth from the man who loved her. Until then, I would carry the burden of this secret alone, even if it weighed heavily on my conscience every single day.
Taking one final deep breath, I tightened my grip around the walking stick before stepping out of study room, carrying with me both the disguise the world believed... and the truth known only to me.
As I stepped into the main hall, my eyes instinctively searched for only one person. There she was. Meher. She was sitting comfortably on the large cream-colored sofa, completely absorbed in whatever drama was playing on the television.
One of the housemaids had just placed a bowl of fresh fruit beside her, but she seemed far more interested in arguing with the characters on the screen than eating. A faint smile appeared on my lips. She really had filled this mansion with life. The sound of my footsteps made her look up.
The moment our eyes met, she muted the television and sat a little straighter. I walked toward her. Stopping only a few steps away, I spoke gently. "Meher." She looked at me expectantly. "I have to go out for a little while." A tiny crease appeared between her brows. "I have some work that can't be delayed." She remained silent, waiting for me to continue. "I'll be back soon." I offered her a reassuring smile. "Until then..." "Take care of yourself." "And don't skip any meal." She opened her mouth slightly, as if she wanted to say something..
But before she could speak, I turned away. If I stayed any longer... I wasn't sure I'd be able to leave. I walked toward the main entrance without looking back. Behind me... The mansion became unusually quiet.
As I stepped outside and the cool evening breeze brushed against my face, I couldn't shake the strange feeling settling inside my chest. Why did it suddenly feel difficult to leave home? Only a few weeks ago... Leaving for work had been routine.
Now... Every time I walked away... It felt as though I was leaving a part of myself behind. A helpless smile crossed my lips. "My little wife..." I whispered to myself. "I'll be back before you know it."
Author pov
Inside the mansion... Meher continued sitting on the sofa. Her eyes remained fixed on the television. But she wasn't watching it anymore. The voices from the screen faded into meaningless noise. Her thoughts lingered on the man who had just walked out the door.
Without realizing it, her fingers tightened around the edge of the cushion beside her. She hadn't wanted him to leave. Not today. Not this evening. She had wanted him to stay.
To sit beside her.
To watch television together.
To share tea.
Even if they spent the entire evening in comfortable silence. But she hadn't said a word. Instead... She had simply watched him walk away. And somehow... The mansion suddenly felt much quieter than it had only moments ago.
The moment Zaryab left Rizvi Mansion, an unusual silence settled over the house. At first, Meher tried to ignore it. She remained in the living room, flipping through television channels one after another, hoping something would capture her attention. One drama... then another... then a cooking show... then the news... Nothing interested her.
With every passing minute, the mansion felt emptier. She let out a small sigh and hugged a cushion to her chest. "What is wrong with me?" she murmured to herself. "He has only gone out for work..." "So why does this place suddenly feel so quiet?" She immediately shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. "I don't miss him." "No..." "I was perfectly fine before he came into my life." Yet somehow... The silence around her argued otherwise.
After wandering aimlessly through the mansion for a while, boredom finally won. Yawning softly, she climbed the staircase and returned to their bedroom. "I'll just take a short nap." She lay down on the bed, closing her eyes. Within minutes... Sleep claimed her. ... Time slipped away unnoticed.
When Meher finally opened her eyes again, the room was completely dark. She blinked several times before reaching for her phone on the bedside table. 9:00 p.m. Her eyes widened. "I slept that long?" She quickly pushed the blanket aside and climbed out of bed. After washing her face, she quietly walked downstairs.
The mansion looked almost deserted. Most of the servants had already finished their duties for the day and retired to the servants' quarters.
The grand hall, which was usually filled with movement during the daytime, now stood wrapped in peaceful silence. Meher slowly walked toward the large sofa and sat down. Leaning back, she rested her head against the soft headrest and stared absentmindedly at the ceiling. A strange loneliness settled inside her heart. She didn't like it. Not one bit. Just then... A familiar sound echoed outside.
Beep.
Beep
The horn of a car.
Meher instantly sat upright. Her heart reacted before her mind did. He's back... Without realizing it, relief washed over her. Followed by happiness. A smile almost found its way onto her lips before she quickly tried to hide it. "I was... just bored." She whispered the excuse to herself. "That's all." But deep inside... She knew that wasn't the whole truth.
Meanwhile... Outside the mansion, Zaryab stood beside his car for a long moment before slipping his hand into his pocket. His fingers closed around the familiar pair of dark glasses. With a quiet sigh, he placed them over his eyes. Then he reached for the walking stick resting inside the car.
The cool metal settled comfortably in his hand. For a brief second... He simply stared at it. then Taking one final steady breath, he tightened his grip around the walking cane before walking toward the mansion....
The massive wooden doors of Rizvi Mansion slowly opened, and Zaryab stepped inside. His dark glasses concealed his eyes, while his walking cane tapped softly against the polished marble floor with each measured step.
The exhausting day had left a faint weariness on his face, yet the moment he entered the grand hall, he came to an abrupt halt. Meher was standing there. As if... She had been waiting for him.
For a brief second, neither of them spoke. The soft glow of the chandelier illuminated her face, and without realizing it, a gentle smile touched Zaryab's lips. She waited for me... The thought alone erased half of his exhaustion.
Without giving herself time to think, Meher hurried toward him. The moment she reached him, she slipped her hand into his, wrapping her delicate fingers around his large, warm hand. "Come," she mumbled, gently tugging him toward the sitting area. Zaryab allowed himself to be led without protest, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
As they walked, Meher finally let her complaint escape. "You said you'd come back soon." Her tone wasn't angry. It wasn't cold. It sounded more like the innocent complaint of someone who had been waiting far too long. "It's nine o'clock, Mr. Zaryab Rizvi," she continued, glancing at the clock before looking back at him. "Is this what you call 'coming back soon'?" She pouted slightly, still holding his hand as she guided him farther inside the mansion. "I got so bored." "The whole mansion became silent." "Even the servants disappeared." Her words tumbled out one after another without pause, making it obvious that she had been holding them in for quite some time.
Zaryab listened quietly. His smile only deepened. So... She had missed me. The realization warmed his heart in a way no business success ever could. When she finally stopped speaking, he turned his face slightly toward her voice. "
I'm sorry," he said softly. "There was some important work that couldn't be delayed." A hint of guilt crept into his calm voice. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late."
Meher huffed, folding one hand across her chest while the other still held his. "You should have called." "I would've known you were fine." Her words slipped out before she could stop them.
The moment she realized what she had admitted, her eyes widened slightly. "I... I mean..." She quickly looked away, embarrassed. "I was just saying." Zaryab's smile grew impossibly softer. He understood what she hadn't been able to say. She had been worried.
Lifting his free hand, he gently rested it over hers. "I'm sorry," he repeated sincerely. "But I promise..." His deep voice carried a quiet warmth that wrapped around her heart. "I'll come home earlier from now on." The words were simple. Yet they made something inside Meher flutter.
She quickly looked away to hide the smile threatening to appear on her lips. "Hmph..." "I'll believe it when I see it." She muttered, pretending to remain annoyed. A quiet chuckle escaped Zaryab.
"That's fair." For the first time since leaving that morning... Rizvi Mansion no longer felt empty. It felt like home again.
As they reached the foot of the grand staircase, Meher slowly released Zaryab's hand. Her fingers lingered around his for the briefest moment before she stepped back. "You should go and freshen up," she said softly, trying to sound casual. "I'll heat the food. I'm starving."
A faint smile appeared on Zaryab's lips. "Alright." He gave a small nod before adjusting his grip on the walking cane. Holding it with practiced ease, he began climbing the staircase one careful step at a time. His movements were calm, confident, and so natural that anyone watching would believe he had spent his entire life navigating the world this way.
Meher stood there for a moment, quietly watching him disappear upstairs. For some reason... A strange ache settled inside her heart. She couldn't explain why. Shaking the unnecessary thought away, she turned and made her way toward the kitchen.
The mansion was unusually quiet. Only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the wall clock broke the silence. Opening the oven, Meher carefully placed the prepared dishes inside to warm them. While the food heated, she busied herself arranging the dining table. One by one, she placed the dinner plates. Crystal glasses. Cutlery. Serving bowls. A folded napkin beside each plate. She adjusted everything until it looked perfect.
Just as she placed the last serving spoon onto the table... She heard it.
Tap...
Tap...
Tap...
The familiar sound of a walking cane echoed softly through the silent mansion. Meher instinctively turned toward the staircase. There he was. Zaryab was slowly making his way downstairs, dressed in a simple black shirt and matching trousers. His dark glasses rested neatly over his eyes, while one hand held the polished walking stick with effortless precision.
Without thinking twice, Meher walked toward him. The moment she reached the last step, she gently slipped her hand into his. "I'll take you," she murmured. Zaryab's fingers instinctively curled around hers. "Thank you." His deep voice carried quiet warmth.
Together, they walked toward the dining table. Once they reached it, Meher gently guided him to his chair before helping him sit comfortably. She served rice onto his plate. Then curry. Followed by freshly baked naan.
Only after making sure everything was in front of him did she take the chair beside him. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It had slowly become... comforting.
The only sounds filling the room were the soft clinking of cutlery against porcelain plates. As Meher ate, her gaze drifted toward him. He held his spoon with practiced elegance, eating calmly and neatly without spilling a single grain of rice. Every movement looked effortless.
Natural.
Perfectly measured.
For one brief moment... A strange thought crossed her mind. He looks... ...as if he can actually see. Her eyes remained fixed on him. The way he reached for his glass. The way he picked up his spoon. The way he sat with such quiet confidence. For a heartbeat... She almost believed it.
A tiny spark of hope flickered somewhere deep inside her chest. Why... whenever he look at me i feel like ha an really see me... The thought filled her heart with unexpected happiness. But almost instantly... Her own mind scolded her. Don't be foolish, Meher. He's blind. Everyone knows that. You're imagining things. She lowered her eyes, giving her head a small shake before forcing herself to focus on her dinner. It was only my imagination.
Nothing more.
Across the table... Zaryab noticed everything. He had seen the way her eyes lingered on him. The brief hope that had illuminated her face. And then... The disappointment when she convinced herself otherwise. A quiet sigh escaped him inwardly. he had almost figured it out.
Almost.
His fingers tightened slightly around the spoon. How much longer could he keep this hidden from her? The secret weighed heavier on his heart with each passing day. But not yet... Not until she trusted him enough to hear the truth. So he remained silent. Eating peacefully beside the woman who unknowingly occupied every corner of his heart... While carrying the burden of the one secret he feared might one day take her away from him.
⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕
And just like that, another night settled over Rizvi Mansion. Behind its magnificent walls, silence concealed far more than words ever could. It was a night filled with unspoken secrets, hidden truths, lingering doubts, and emotions neither Meher nor Zaryab had the courage to confess. Yet amidst all the uncertainty, one thing quietly remained alive in both their hearts—a fragile hope that perhaps tomorrow would bring answers, healing, and a future they could one day share together.
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.
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With love,
Fiza ali khan❤️