The day was finally here. The day the eldest son of Pasha family was supposed to get married.

It was still early in the morning, and Mahnoor was sitting on the floor of her bedroom.

The house had not fully woken up yet, but faint sounds were already drifting through the haveli. Doors opening and closing. Servants moving around downstairs. The distant hum of voices preparing for the long day ahead.

Today.

After months of preparations, celebrations, shopping trips, guest lists, invitations, and endless discussions, the day had finally arrived.

The day Zarim would become Farha's husband.

The thought made her chest tighten.

"This is it," she thought.

His words from the other day rang in her ear.

"Abhi bhi naraz ho?"

She wanted to say yes.

Yes, she was still upset with him.

Still hurt.

Still angry.

He had dismissed her so easily that night, like she didn't mean anything at all.

Like the feelings she had gathered and protected for years were nothing more than a childish misunderstanding. She remembered the humiliation of standing before him, her heart exposed, only to have it crushed by words she could never forget.

Then she remembered that she had no right to show her resentment. No right to feel this way. Those rights belonged to Farha now.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.

But she also knew she had to let go.

Let go of everything she had ever built piece by piece.

The future she had imagined whenever she allowed herself to be foolish enough to dream.

She had to let go of all of it.

She had to let go of her heart.

A shaky breath escaped her.

For so many years, loving Zarim had felt as natural as breathing. She couldn't even remember when it had started. Perhaps it had always been there.

Growing silently, patiently. Without her realizing how deeply it had rooted itself inside her.

And now she was expected to pull it out and move on as though nothing had happened.

As though it were easy.

As though her heart would simply obey.

Mahnoor closed her eyes for a moment before slowly pushing herself to her feet.

The walls of her room suddenly felt suffocating.

She needed air. Needed something to stop the ache spreading through her chest.

She walked up to the balcony.

There were heavy black clouds all over the sky. The wind whipped her hair as she looked straight ahead.

The cool breeze brushed against her skin, carrying with it the scent of wet earth and approaching rain.

She simply stood there watching the world wake up around her.

Then something caught her eye. Someone was walking in the lawn.

When she looked closer, she realized it was Zarim.

His hands were tucked into his pockets as he walked across the lawn, seemingly lost in thought.

Just then he looked up.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.

The distance between them was vast.

Yet somehow that brief glance carried everything neither of them had managed to say.

The hurt.

The confusion.

The unanswered questions.

The feelings left buried beneath pride and silence.

"Kya chahti ho tum mujhse, Mahnoor?" he thought.

And standing on the balcony, with her heart breaking quietly inside her chest, she found herself thinking

"Kash aap meri mohabbat samajh pate."

If only you had understood.

If only you had looked a little closer.

If only you had realized before it was too late.

The wind picked up around her.

A strand of hair fell across her face.

That was when she looked away first.

Because he had already made his choice.

And she had no place in it.

Mahnoor turned around and disappeared into her room.

The moment the balcony door closed behind her, the strength she had been holding onto began to crumble.

Her eyes burned, her throat tightened.

"I let go of you, Zarim Pasha.", A lone tear slipped from her eye.

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

The nikkah was going to happen after Asr prayer. And everyone had begun getting ready.

The haveli, which had been bustling since dawn, was now in complete chaos.

Women hurried from room to room carrying jewelry boxes, makeup pouches, and half-ironed dupattas. Children ran through the hallways despite repeated warnings to stay out of the way.

Meanwhile, Zarim stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of his white kurta. Over it, he wore a tailored black coat that gave him a refined and elegant appearance. His hair was neatly styled, and the silver watch on his wrist gleamed under the room's light.

To anyone looking at him, he appeared every bit the groom, composed, dignified, and ready for his nikkah.

Yet the expression reflected in the mirror told a different story.

A strange restlessness lingered in his eyes. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life.

So why did it feel as though something was missing?

The weather outside wasn't any better; heavy clouds still hung over the sky, refusing to clear. The arrangements for food and seating, which had been planned for the garden, were shifted indoors in the hope that the nikkah ceremony could still be held outside if the rain held back. Workers moved quickly under instructions being shouted from every direction, trying to save what they could of the carefully planned setup.

Inside the house, voices echoed through every corridor.

"Phool yahan nahi, wahan lagao!"

"Nahi nahi, stage ki lights check karo dobara!"

"Guests aa rahe hain!"

The chaos should have felt festive.

But strangely, it didn't.

A knock interrupted him.

"Zarim beta?"

It was Shahna.

"Ji ammi, main bas aa raha hoon," he replied quickly, forcing calm into his voice.

Shahna entered, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. For a moment, she just looked at him..like she was trying to memorize him, or maybe reassure herself that everything was finally falling into place.

"Mashallah," she said softly. "Mera beta kitna acha lag raha hai."

Zarim gave a small, polite smile.

"Ammi..."

"Hmm?"

"Sab theek hai na?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Shahna paused.

The question sounded simple, but her expression shifted ever so slightly.

"Sab theek hi toh hai," she replied after a beat. Then she stepped closer and fixed the collar of his kurta gently, like she used to when he was a child. "Aaj tumhari zindagi ka naya safar shuru ho raha hai. Allah se dua karo ke sab behtar ho."

Zarim nodded slowly.

But even as she left, the weight in his chest didn't move.

"Tum thik ho Mahnoor?" Eda asked from where she was sitting inside her room.

"Mujhe kya hoga?" she said as she pinned her dupatta to her shoulder. She was wearing a pale blue churidar with beautiful beading all over it. Her hairs were again in braid and her makeup simple. Urooj like, usually offered her to do it for her, but she refused.

She walked up to the window

The sky had only grown darker now, thick clouds covering almost everything in sight. The wind had picked up, shaking the trees in the lawn, making the entire haveli feel restless.

Like it was waiting for something.