Days passed, but Haroon's anger did not cool. He refused to speak to Eshal beyond a few cold words at the dinner table. The house had become a palace of silence.
One evening, Zarina phuphi entered Eshal's room with a soft smile. "Beta, I have something to show you."
From her purse, she pulled out an old photograph. It showed two young men — one was Haroon, the other Zayan's father, Ayaz. They stood shoulder to shoulder, wearing college blazers and wide smiles.
"They were once best friends. Like brothers," Zarina said. "Until politics and betrayal tore them apart."
Eshal looked at the photo, stunned. "Then why so much hate now?"
Zarina's eyes grew heavy. "Because love turned into revenge. Ayaz chose politics over loyalty. Haroon never forgave him."
That night, Eshal sat in her room, staring at the photo. Maybe if I show him that history doesn't need to repeat itself… she thought.
The next morning, Zayan appeared outside her house, not for a secret meeting — but in broad daylight.
He wore a white kurta and held a sealed envelope in his hand. Haroon, seeing him from the porch, stormed out.
"What is this nonsense now?" Haroon snapped.
Zayan bowed his head respectfully. "I came not to defy you, Sir… but to officially ask for Eshal's hand again. This is a written proposal from my family."
Haroon snatched the envelope and tore it open. His eyes scanned the words — respectful, formal, and sincere. But sincerity could not erase years of pain.
"You think a letter will change everything?" Haroon growled.
"No," Zayan replied calmly. "But it's a start. One day, you'll see that I love your daughter more than any pride or bloodline."
Haroon didn't reply. He turned around and walked away — but he didn't tear the letter.
That evening, Eshal found the envelope placed on her desk. Inside was a note scribbled in her father's handwriting:
"I have not accepted. But I have not rejected either."
Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn't a yes… but it wasn't a no.