The Words That Stayed Unsaid
The Takur house was unusually quiet that afternoon.
Najma sat in the small prayer room, knees folded beneath her, eyes closed. The soft scent of incense filled the air, wrapping around her like a familiar shield. This room had always been her refuge—where thoughts slowed and emotions settled.
But today, her mind refused to rest.
Rangeer's words replayed again and again.
You're stepping back.
She opened her eyes slowly.
Some truths were easier to accept than to explain.
Footsteps approached. Twinkle appeared at the doorway, her expression uncertain.
"Najma… can we talk?"
Najma nodded, rising to her feet. "Of course."
They moved to the balcony, where the city hummed below them. For a moment, neither spoke.
Twinkle broke the silence first.
"You've been distant."
Najma leaned against the railing. "I'm still here."
"That's not what I mean," Twinkle said, frustration creeping into her voice. "You're here—but not really."
Najma turned to her. "Twinkle, have I ever stood in your way?"
Twinkle's breath caught.
"No," she admitted. "Never."
"Then trust me when I say," Najma continued softly, "that I know when to let go."
Twinkle frowned. "Let go of what?"
Najma didn't answer.
Some answers were not meant to be spoken.
That evening, the Sign family arrived unexpectedly.
Ranveer entered with his usual composure, but his eyes searched instinctively—and found Najma near the far end of the room.
She was laughing softly at something Saraswati said.
The sound surprised him.
She rarely laughed.
He moved closer.
"You look lighter today," he remarked.
She met his gaze. "Appearances can be deceiving."
"Is that a warning?"
"Maybe," she replied.
Their exchange was interrupted by Kapoor's voice.
"We've come to discuss something important."
The room stilled.
Grandmother Krishi spoke next.
"The families have agreed. It's time to consider formalizing this alliance."
Najma's fingers curled slightly.
Twinkle's eyes widened.
Ranveer remained silent.
"The engagement," Krishi continued, "will be announced soon."
The word echoed.
Najma inhaled slowly, steadying herself.
Twinkle looked between Najma and Ranveer—confusion clouding her face.
"But… isn't it too soon?" she asked.
Krishi smiled thinly. "For some things, delay only complicates destiny."
Ranveer's gaze locked onto Najma.
"You haven't said anything," he said quietly.
Najma lifted her chin. "Because this isn't about what I want."
"And what do you want?" he pressed.
She held his gaze, unwavering.
"I want peace," she said. "For my family."
Silence fell again.
Ranveer nodded slowly.
Then he did something no one expected.
"I agree," he said.
Twinkle gasped.
Najma's heart skipped—then steadied.
She had chosen this path long ago.
Later that night, Najma stood alone on the terrace.
The city lights blurred through the tears she refused to let fall.
A presence joined her.
"You don't look like someone who just agreed to marry," Ranveer said quietly.
She didn't turn. "Appearances."
He leaned beside her. "This marriage—"
"—will be practical," she finished. "Respectful."
"And nothing more?"
She finally faced him. "That depends on how much space you allow me."
He studied her face, searching.
"I don't understand you," he admitted.
"That's alright," she replied softly. "Understanding comes later."
Below them, the city pulsed—unaware that two lives had just been bound by words never truly spoken.
And somewhere, deep within Najma, the past stirred—waiting for the moment it would no longer remain silent.