Author's Note 🤍
Hi everyone!
First of all, I'm really sorry for uploading this chapter late. Things have been a little busy lately, and I couldn't find enough time to write and edit properly.
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Author pov
Night had wrapped the house in a soft, dreamy silence.
Meher sat comfortably on the bed with her legs crossed, a novel resting in her hands as she became completely absorbed in its pages. The warm glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her delicate features, making her look even more graceful. Every now and then, she absentmindedly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before turning another page, utterly lost in the fictional world before her.
Across the room, Zaryab sat on the sofa with his laptop balanced on his knee, his fingers occasionally moving across the keyboard as he worked through important files. Or at least, that was what it appeared to be. Every so often, despite himself, his gaze drifted toward his wife, lingering for a brief moment before returning to the screen.
The bedroom remained wrapped in peaceful silence, interrupted only by the soft clicking of laptop keys and the gentle rustle of turning pages. Then, all of a sudden, Meher's fingers froze midway through turning another page. Her head lifted instinctively as the steady patter of raindrops against the balcony doors reached her ears, growing louder with every passing second.
A soft smile touched her lips.
"Rain..." she whispered, almost to herself.
Like a child discovering her favorite miracle, Meher's eyes sparkled with excitement. Without wasting another second, she tossed the novel onto the bed, hurried toward the balcony, and slid the glass door open.
A cool breeze instantly rushed inside, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of rain-soaked earth. A bright smile bloomed across her face as she stepped out into the balcony without a moment's hesitation. Cool raindrops immediately kissed her skin, soaking her hair and clothes within seconds.
A soft, carefree laugh escaped her lips—light, musical, and filled with pure joy. Tilting her face toward the dark sky, she closed her eyes, spreading her arms as though she wanted to embrace the rain itself. The cool droplets cascaded over her face, tracing delicate paths down her cheeks before disappearing beneath the folds of her saree.
Her heart felt impossibly light. Unable to contain her happiness any longer, she began twirling beneath the rain, laughing like a little girl reliving one of her happiest childhood memories. Her saree swayed gracefully with every spin, while the tiny bells of her anklets chimed softly beneath the soothing rhythm of the falling rain. The moonlight filtering through the clouds wrapped around her like silver silk, making her appear almost unreal—like a beautiful dream the night itself had lovingly brought to life.
Meanwhile Zaryab looked up from his laptop, startled. "Meher-"
But she was already gone.
His fingers froze over the keyboard.
For a moment, he simply watched her from where he sat he clearly see her. Something about the sight of Meher laughing in the rain, so unguarded, so alive, tugged at something deep inside him.
After a while, Zaryab quietly closed the laptop and rose from the sofa. Drawn by the sound of her carefree laughter, he made his way toward the balcony.
Reaching the doorway, he stopped without making a sound, one hand resting lightly against the wooden frame. He didn't step forward. He simply stood there, watching her in silence. Meher was completely unaware of his presence.
Lost in the rain, she laughed as she twirled beneath the dark sky, her happiness so pure and unguarded that it stole every thought from his mind. For a long moment, he did nothing but admire her, silently grateful for the rare sight of her smiling so freely, as though the rain had washed away every burden she had been carrying.
She was too lost in the rain, in the wind, in the joy of the moment.
Zaryab's gaze stayed on her, and his breath slowly turned uneven.
Her clothes were completely drenched now, the rain tracing every line of her silhouette, making him look away for half a second - and then look back again. His throat went dry. His jaw tightened.
God.
He shouldn't be looking at her like that.
But he couldn't stop.
There was something dangerously beautiful about her tonight. Something soft and innocent... and at the same time, utterly undoing.
He stepped closer, drawn toward her as if the rain itself was pulling him in.
Meher stretched her arms out and spun once more, laughing under the sky. The next moment, she stilled.
A sudden warmth rose behind her.
Before she could react, she felt him.
Zaryab stood right behind her, so close that her back brushed against his chest.
Meher's breath caught.
For one suspended second, neither of them moved.
Zaryab closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to steady the storm she had awakened inside him. The rain fell around them, loud and wild, but somehow the silence between them felt louder.
Meher turned slowly.
When she saw him standing there, rain dripping from his hair, his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her heartbeat stumble, her lips parted.
"Z–Zaryab..." she whispered.
He didn't answer right away.
He only looked at her, and in that look was something she had never fully seen before - something deep, aching, and almost impossible to name.
A shy smile trembled onto her lips.
"Dance with me," she said softly.
He stared at her as though he wasn't sure he had heard her right.
Meher raised her hand toward him, her bangles glimmering beneath the rain. "Please?"
That one word broke whatever resistance he had left.
Slowly, he placed his hand in hers.
He drew her closer.
At first, their movements were hesitant, unsure, as if both of them were trying to understand what was happening between them. But then Meher smiled - that soft, radiant smile - and suddenly the world seemed to disappear.
The rain became their music.
Zaryab's hand settled at her waist, steady and warm, while her fingers rested on his shoulder. He spun her gently, then pulled her back toward him, and Meher laughed breathlessly, looking up at him through rain-soaked lashes.
His control was slipping with every second.
Every smile. Every touch. Every breath she took against him.
Meher could feel it too - the way the air had changed, the way every small movement now carried unbearable meaning. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and her hands trembled where they rested against him.
Without a word, Zaryab Rizvi slowly lowered himself onto one knee before his wife. Looking up at her with quiet tenderness, as though she were the most precious blessing in his life.
There was no pride, no hesitation—only love reflected in his eyes as he silently reminded her that, despite the world calling him powerful, before her he was simply a husband who would always choose her. He looked up at her, rainwater glistening on his face, his expression filled with reverence and restraint and something far more dangerous beneath it.
His hands rested lightly at her waist.
He gently lowered his head and placed a soft, lingering kiss on the bare skin of her stomach, just above the neatly pleated folds of her saree.
Meher gasped.
Her eyes fluttered shut instantly.
A strange shiver ran through her whole body, and she clutched his shoulder for balance. The touch was not rough, not hurried - only enough to leave her trembling in ways she didn't know how to handle.
"Zaryab..." his name fell from her lips like a plea.
He looked affected by that one whisper alone.
He lingered for a heartbeat before pressing another gentle kiss just above the pleats of her saree. His touch was unhurried, filled with quiet affection rather than haste. Meher's breath caught softly as warmth spread through her, and she instinctively closed her eyes, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his shoulders. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The world beyond them faded into silence, leaving only the sound of the rain and the steady rhythm of two hearts learning to trust one another.
His lips left a trail of feather-light kisses from her waist upward, each touch filled with tenderness rather than urgency. Meher's breath caught in her throat as her eyes tightly closed, her heartbeat echoing loudly in the silence between them.
Then he pressed another soft kiss against her stomach. With one hand, he gently moved her pallu aside, clearing his path as his lips slowly trailed upward to her breasts. But before he could go any further, Meher couldn't take the overwhelming sensation anymore.
Meher stepped back instinctively until her back touched the wall.
She was breathing deeply now, her chest rising and falling, her lashes lowered, her whole body shaken by a feeling she couldn't explain.
When he rose again, slowly, his face came close to hers.
Too close.
he paused. Then Zaryab stared at her for a moment as if committing her to memory.
She looked breathtaking.
Rain-drenched.
Flushed.
Breathless.
And His.
That last thought hit him so suddenly that he clenched his fists.
Zaryab's forehead rested briefly against her shoulder as though he was fighting himself.
And Meher... Meher could barely think. His gaze lingered on her flushed face, silently asking for permission without a single word. For one suspended heartbeat, neither of them moved. Their eyes remained locked, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.
Almost unconsciously, they leaned closer, drawn toward each other as though the rest of the world had disappeared. Their lips were only a whisper apart, and it seemed they were both about to close the distance and share their very first kiss. But once again, she turned her face away.
He stepped forward again, unable to stay away.
His lips brushed her neck - soft, lingering, careful enough to ask and dangerous enough to leave her weak. Meher's fingers tightened around the damp fabric of her saree. A quiet sound escaped her lips as his lips moved to her collarbone, then paused there as if even he was struggling with how far he wanted to go.
Then With the lightest touch, he brushed the edge of her pallu where it rested upon her shoulder, carefully letting the delicate fabric slip just enough to reveal the graceful curve of her collarbone.
Her pallu slipped from her shoulder and fell to the floor.
Both of them froze for a second.
The rain kept falling. Their breaths kept shaking.
Zaryab's lips traced the sharp line of her collarbone, his breath hot against her pale skin. He lingered there, a slow, deliberate press of his mouth that made her arch her back, her skin flushing a deep rose.
"Did you miss me?" he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tangling in the thick hair at the nape of his neck.
"No..."," she gasped, though she pulled him closer, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Zaryab chuckled, the vibration humming against her skin. He shifted his focus, trailing a path of wet, searing kisses down the center of her chest. He bypassed the lace of her bra, his tongue swirling around the edge of the fabric, tasting the salt and sweetness of her skin. "May I?"
"Yes," she pleaded, her voice breaking into a whimper. He didn't hesitate. He hooked his fingers under the lace, tugging the garment away to reveal her breasts. They were heavy and full, the nipples already peaked and dark, straining toward him. Zaryab groaned, the sound primal and hungry, as he dove into the soft, fragrant valley between them. "You smell like vanilla and heat," he muttered, his voice muffled against her cleavage.
"And you smell like trouble," she replied, her hips twitching instinctively against his lower body. He sucked a strip of skin from the dip of her chest, creating a dark, blooming mark. He felt her heart hammering against his cheek, a frantic, irregular rhythm that mirrored the thudding in his own veins.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, glancing up with darkened, dilated eyes. "How fast your heart is racing for me?"
"It's because of you," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. , his tongue flicking across one turgid nipple. He circled the tip, teasing the sensitive peak, before drawing the entire bud into his mouth. He sucked hard, the wet, sh-licking sound of his mouth on her skin filling the quiet room.
"Oh god," she moaned, her head hitting the pillow with a thud.
Meher was losing herself in the overwhelming sensation, her thoughts slipping away as every heartbeat echoed louder than the last. They were so lost in each other that the sudden crack of thunder tore through the night like a warning.
Meher let out a startled cry.
Both of them jerked back to their senses.
Reality rushed in all at once.
Her eyes widened in shock, then embarrassment. Her cheeks burned hotter than before as she realized how close they had been, how completely she had let herself drift into him.
Without meeting his eyes, she quickly bent down and picked up her pallo with shaking hands.
Zaryab turned away at once, his back facing her, his breathing still rough. One hand dragged through his wet hair, his jaw tight with frustration - not at her, never at her, but at himself, at the intensity of everything he felt whenever it came to her.
Meher clutched the pallu to herself, unable to steady her heartbeat.
"Meher..." he said quietly, his voice low and strained.
But she was gone.
Meher Sultan Pov
The deafening crack of thunder shattered the spell around us, and my eyes flew open in shock. For one horrifying moment, I simply stood there, staring at him as my breath came in short, uneven gasps. Then reality crashed over me all at once.
Ya Allah... what had I almost done? Heat rushed to my face as shame consumed every part of me. My trembling hands immediately reached for my pallu, hurriedly pulling it back over my shoulder and across my chest, as though I could hide not only myself but also the emotions I had completely failed to control.
Unable to bear another second, I turned around and ran inside the room. I didn't dare look back. My heart pounded violently against my chest as I rushed straight into the washroom and slammed the door shut behind me. Leaning against it, I covered my face with both trembling hands as silent tears escaped through my fingers. "Ya Allah..." I sobbed softly. "What is happening to me? I was supposed to hate him... so why does my heart keep forgetting?"
I couldn't even bring myself to look at him. My vision blurred as tears gathered in my eyes. What is wrong with me?
Why did I let him come so close?
Why... why didn't I stop him sooner? A tear slipped silently down my cheek, and I hated myself in that moment. I had promised myself that I would keep my distance. I had promised that I would never let my heart forget the betrayal that had brought me into this marriage.
Then why... why did his nearness make me forget everything? Why did the warmth of his presence make my heart lose all reason?
"No..." I whispered, my voice trembling. "This can't happen." I shook my head over and over again, desperately trying to drive those feelings away. "I can't... I can't like his touch. I can't..." Another tear escaped before I could stop it.
Wiping my tears away forcefully, I ran straight into the shower.
My trembling fingers turned the water on, and within seconds, the cold stream poured over me. I slowly slid down onto the freezing marble floor, pulling my knees tightly against my chest as I wrapped my arms around them.
My whole body trembled, but I couldn't tell whether it was because of the icy water or the storm raging inside my heart. Desperately, I began rubbing my arms over and over again, as though I could erase the memory of being so close to him. I scrubbed my skin until it turned red, trying to convince myself that if I rubbed hard enough, every confusing feeling would disappear. But it didn't. Nothing changed.
His warmth... the way my heart had betrayed me... it all remained. "Why?" I whispered brokenly, my voice shaking beneath the sound of the falling water. "Why can't I forget?" Fresh tears mixed with the water streaming down my face as I buried my face against my knees and cried until my chest hurt.
My sobs echoed through the empty washroom. "I hate this..." I whispered. "I hate myself." I had promised myself that I would never let my heart soften toward him, yet every time he came close, all my promises seemed to fall apart.
"Ya Allah... what's happening to me?" I cried softly.
"I was supposed to hate him... so why does my heart refuse to listen?" I didn't know how long I remained there.
Eventually, when there were no tears left to cry, I forced myself to stand. My legs felt weak, my eyes burned, and my heart felt unbearably heavy. I quietly stepped out of the washroom and looked around the bedroom.
It was empty. He was gone. For some reason, the sight of the empty room made an unfamiliar ache settle inside my chest. I quickly looked away, refusing to dwell on it.
Walking into the closet, I changed into fresh clothes before returning to the bedroom. Without bothering to dry my hair completely, I crawled beneath the blanket and curled onto my side. I felt so cold. Not the kind of cold that came from the rain or the shower, but the kind that settled deep inside the heart. Pulling the blanket closer around myself, I shut my eyes tightly, hoping sleep would silence the chaos inside me. But no matter how hard I tried, my heart refused to forget.
Zaryab Rizvi pov
I remained standing on the balcony long after Meher had run inside. The rain continued to pour, soaking me completely, but I didn't move. I couldn't. My eyes remained fixed on the closed balcony door, and all I could think about was the look on her face before she fled. Those tears... Ya Allah... She had been crying. A painful ache settled deep inside my chest, and only one question echoed mercilessly in my mind. What have I done?
I had promised myself that I would never let her cry. I had promised that I would never become another reason for her pain. Yet tonight... I had failed. Closing my eyes, I let the rain wash over me, but it couldn't drown out the guilt clawing at my heart. I should have stopped. The moment I realized she was overwhelmed... I should have stepped back. I should have given her the space she needed. Instead, I had allowed my own feelings to overpower my judgement.
For the first time in years... I was disappointed in myself. I drew a slow, shaky breath before clenching my fists so tightly that my knuckles turned white. "No..." I whispered bitterly into the empty night. "This isn't who I want to be. I will never let my feelings become a burden for her."
I rested my forehead against the cool stone pillar of the balcony and squeezed my eyes shut. Right now... she was probably crying because of everything that had happened. And that thought was unbearable. I could still picture the tears shimmering in her eyes before she ran away, and every memory felt like a knife twisting deeper into my heart.
"I'm sorry, Meher," I whispered into the rain, my voice breaking. "I never wanted you to feel frightened... or guilty. I only wanted you to feel safe with me."
For several long moments, I simply stood there, letting the silence and the rain punish me more than any words ever could. Eventually, I forced myself to take a deep breath and regain control. Whatever happened... I couldn't allow this to happen again. If loving her truly meant protecting her heart, then I would protect it... even from myself.
With one final glance toward the closed balcony door, I quietly turned and walked back toward our bedroom, carrying the weight of my guilt with every step.
Taking a long, unsteady breath, I forced myself to regain control before quietly stepping back into our bedroom. The moment my eyes landed on Meher, every other thought disappeared. She was curled beneath the duvet, her small frame trembling despite being wrapped tightly in the blanket. Another shiver ran through her body, and my heart clenched painfully.
"Ya Allah..." I whispered, guilt crashing over me all over again.
Without wasting another second, I walked to her bedside and gently rested the back of my hand against her forehead. The heat radiating from her skin made my chest tighten. She was burning with fever.
"This is my fault," I murmured bitterly. "If I had brought you inside sooner... if I hadn't been so lost in my own emotions... you wouldn't be suffering like this."
I immediately soaked a clean cloth in cold water and carefully placed it on her forehead. Her brows relaxed ever so slightly, but she continued to shiver in her sleep. I adjusted the blanket around her, making sure it covered her properly before pulling a chair beside the bed.
The hours passed in complete silence.
Every few minutes, I changed the damp cloth, checked her temperature, and brushed the strands of hair away from her face. Sometimes she stirred restlessly, whispering words I couldn't quite understand, and every single time my heart skipped a beat. I wished I could take away every bit of her discomfort, even if it meant bearing it myself.
Only after a long while did the fever finally begin to subside. I let out a quiet sigh of relief, thanking Allah under my breath.
"Shukar Alhamdulillah..."
Only then did I realize that my own clothes were still completely soaked from the rain.
Not wanting to wake her, I quietly gathered a fresh change of clothes and slipped into the dressing room. A few minutes later, I returned wearing dry nightclothes and walked back to her bedside.
She was sleeping more peacefully now.
The sight eased the fear gripping my heart.
I sat down beside her once again, unable to bring myself to leave. The room was silent except for the gentle rhythm of her breathing. I simply watched her, memorizing every peaceful expression on her face, silently praying that she would wake up healthy.
As the first rays of dawn slowly filtered through the curtains, I looked at Meher one last time. A faint, relieved smile found its way to my lips as I watched her sleeping peacefully.
"You'll be alright now," I whispered softly, barely above a breath. But despite the relief in my heart, I couldn't bring myself to stay. I wasn't ready to face her—not after everything that had happened last night, not after seeing the fear, confusion, and tears in her eyes. I didn't know what she would think when she woke up.I didn't know if she would even want to look at me. The thought alone made my chest ache.
Taking one last lingering glance at my sleeping wife, I quietly rose from the chair and walked toward the door. Without making the slightest sound, I slipped out of the bedroom and made my way to the study room. Perhaps burying myself in work would distract me from the guilt weighing so heavily on my heart, because at that moment... I simply didn't have the courage to face the woman whose heart I feared I had hurt the most.
Meher Sultan Pov
The warm rays of the morning sun brushed gently across my face, slowly pulling me out of sleep. I blinked several times, trying to adjust to the brightness filtering through the curtains. As I shifted slightly, I felt something cool resting against my forehead. Frowning, I reached up and pulled it away.
A damp towel.
For a few seconds, I simply stared at the damp towel in my hands. I didn't need to ask who had placed it there. Only one person would have spent the entire night taking care of me. My heart tightened at the thought as my eyes slowly wandered around the room, searching for him. But the room was silent and empty. He was gone..
Fragments of last night came rushing back all at once—the rain, the balcony, the way I had run away from him, the tears, the guilt... everything. Embarrassment washed over me again. As I sat up, something on the bedside table caught my attention. A bowl of water, a folded cloth resting inside it, and medicine. He had stayed with me all night.
The realization made my chest ache.
"...Why?" I whispered to myself.
Why did he care so much? Why did he always make it so difficult for me to stay angry with him?
Pushing those thoughts aside, I walked into the washroom. After taking a shower, I changed into a simple pastel kurti with matching palazzos. I applied only a little makeup, tied my hair neatly, and took one last look in the mirror before stepping out of the room.
The mansion was unusually quiet. Instinctively, my eyes searched for him as I glanced around the hallway, the living room, and even the staircase. But he was nowhere to be seen. A strange wave of disappointment settled inside my heart before I quickly shook it away, silently scolding myself for looking for him in the first place.
Why am I looking for him?
Scolding myself inwardly, I made my way to the kitchen. The chefs had already prepared breakfast, so I quietly arranged everything on the dining table before taking my usual seat.
Silence surrounded me.
Minutes later, the familiar sound of a walking stick echoed through the hall.
Tap...
Tap...
Tap...
My heartbeat quickened on its own.
He had arrived.
Zaryab entered the dining hall wearing his usual dark glasses, his walking stick moving confidently across the floor.
Normally, the moment he entered, I would stand, gently take his hand, guide him to his chair, serve breakfast onto his plate, and only then sit down myself.
Today...
I remained seated.
I didn't move.
Neither did he say anything.
He quietly found his chair and sat down without looking in my direction.
Without speaking.
Without acknowledging me.
It felt as though we were both deliberately avoiding each other.
The silence between us felt heavier than any argument.
Lowering my gaze, I pretended to focus on my breakfast.
Suddenly...
Clink!
My spoon slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the floor. Letting out a quiet sigh, I bent down to pick it up, but just as my fingers reached toward it, I froze. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes landed on Zaryab's hand. It had stopped barely an inch away from the sharp edge of the dining table, as though he knew exactly where it was without needing to search for it.Perfectly.
Without even grazing it.
There wasn't the slightest hesitation in his movement. It was almost as though he already knew exactly where the sharp edge of the table was. I stared at him for a long moment, unable to look away as a strange feeling slowly crept into my heart. No... that's impossible, I told myself, quickly dismissing the thought.
He's blind.
I quickly picked up the spoon and straightened, trying to push the unsettling thought away. But it refused to leave.
Why does it feel... like he can see me?
The question echoed over and over inside my mind.
I became so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice my hand brushing against the steaming cup of tea beside my plate.
Lost in the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind, I failed to notice that my hand had accidentally brushed against the steaming cup of tea resting beside my plate. The cup wobbled dangerously on the edge of the table before tipping over completely. Everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.
Before I could pull my hand away, the boiling tea spilled across my skin, the scorching liquid burning the back of my hand and wrist. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, making me instinctively jerk my hand back.
"Ah!" A painful cry escaped my lips as tears instantly welled in my eyes from the sudden burn. The cup shattered against the floor, hot tea splashing across the marble tiles, while my heart pounded wildly from the unexpected pain.
Within a heartbeat, a chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"Meher!" His voice was filled with panic.
Before I could even process what had happened, strong hands grasped my arm and gently but firmly pulled me to my feet.
"What were you thinking?" he scolded, his usually calm voice now laced with worry. "How many times have I told you to pay attention?"
I stood there in stunned silence as he hurriedly led me toward the kitchen.
My feet followed him almost automatically. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned on the tap and carefully placed my injured hand beneath the cool stream of running water.
The cold water flowed continuously over my burned hand, soothing the angry redness on my skin. But strangely, I barely felt the sting anymore. Another pain had already taken over my heart, drowning out every other sensation. My eyes never left Zaryab's face as I watched him carefully holding my hand beneath the running water.
Every movement he made...
Every confident step he had taken...
Every instinctive reaction...
Everything about him suddenly felt different. The suspicion that had been quietly growing inside me since morning refused to stay buried any longer. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, my heart kept whispering the same terrifying question, making it impossible to think of anything else.
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"...Zaryab..."
He turned toward me.
My heartbeat thundered inside my chest.
"you Can..."
I swallowed hard.
"...see?"
The moment those words left my lips, the color drained from Zaryab's face. His entire body went completely still, as if time itself had frozen around us. Even the hand gently holding mine beneath the running water became motionless.
For one endless moment, neither of us breathed. The sound of the running tap echoed through the silent kitchen, yet somehow it was the silence between us that felt deafening. It grew heavier with every passing second, speaking louder than any explanation either of us could have given.
I searched his face for an answer, while he remained frozen before me, and in that moment, I knew my question had shaken him far more than I had ever expected.
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❤️