Rayyan's hope consistently crumbled as he heard her response. Maha glanced back at him, her words soft, "Ap k bare mai aise khayalat ate hi nahi, bhai." With that, she turned to leave, unaware of the emotional storm she left behind in his heart.

(I can never think of you like that)

Maha rushed down the stairs, entering her room with a forceful slam of the door. Leaning against it, she placed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart race. Closing her eyes, she breathed heavily, struggling to calm herself. The proximity of Rayyan always left her breathless, a sensation she vehemently denied. He was her bhaijaan, 11 years her senior – that was the boundary.

Despite her attempts to dismiss any romantic thoughts, her heart betrayed her, fluttering at his closeness. Her affections lay elsewhere, on arsh, her khala's son. Unlike Rayyan, arsh possessed a calm nature, and she found solace in that.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and settled on her bed. Whispers to Allah escaped her lips, seeking divine assistance to rid her heart of thoughts she wished not to entertain. "Allah mere dil se inka khayyal nikalne mai meri madad karen. Mai inke bare mai aisa nhi sochna chahti lkin khud hi ajata h"

(Help me forgetting him ya Allah,  I dont wanna think about him like that but I cant help it)

Looking up, as if directly addressing Allah, she laid on her bed and closed her eyes, hoping for peaceful sleep to greet her, she had to up early!

_____

The morning at Khan Villa unfolded with its customary vibrancy on a Sunday. In the kitchen, Maha, Hadia, and Dua diligently worked to prepare breakfast for the family, upholding their Sunday tradition to provide their ammi with a well-deserved respite. However, amidst the lively banter and the clatter of kitchen utensils, a subtle undercurrent of unease lingered, notably affecting Dua.

Dua's usually animated demeanor appeared subdued, her gaze distant as she mechanically beat the eggs. The source of her inner turmoil was evident to Maha, who suspected that Arshad's obliviousness to the sacred bond of marriage might be at the heart of it all. Despite divine teachings emphasizing kindness towards one's spouse, Arshad seemed to miss the sanctity of their relationship.

Maha couldn't help but sigh, empathizing with her sister-in-law's unspoken struggles. She watched as Dua fervently beat the eggs, each motion carrying a hint of unexpressed frustration. Gently placing her hand on Dua's shoulder, Maha softly spoke, "Bhabhi, anda beat hogaya hai," causing Dua to startle and return from her distant thoughts. Shaking her head, Dua poured the beaten eggs onto the frying pan, the intensity of her actions reflecting the emotional storm within.

(The eggs are already beaten enough bhabhi)

In that shared kitchen moment, the unspoken understanding between Maha and Dua resonated with the complexities of emotions, unexpressed concerns, and the silent strength that bound them together. As Maha also immersed herself in her tasks, the kitchen held not only the aroma of breakfast but an atmosphere charged with the depth of unspoken feelings.
_

_____

Mahad was engrossed in a phone call when the door dramatically swung open, revealing the unwelcome figure of Zoya Khan, a girl he absolutely loathed.

Rolling his eyes, he greeted whoever was on the call with a casual "Salam." Turning his attention to Zoya, he couldn't resist a touch of sarcasm. "Kahiye madam, kuch kaam tha apko is peasant se?" he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. Zoya's glare, more potent than the combined glares of Arshad and Rayyan, only intensified as she bore holes into him, adding an unexpected layer of humor to the situation.

(yes madam, any work do you have with this peasant)

" Mahad, kitne dafa kaha hai mene k mere kamre mai se shirts na lia karo meri to q bar bar karte ho aisa"

(mahad, how many times do I have to tell you to not borrow by shirts)

Zoya, attempting a low voice that resembled Rayyan's, snarkily retorted, "Oh, what! Tumhari shirts... TUMHARI nahi, mere bache wo meri shirts hain. Jo jab bhi dhulne jati hain wapas ati hi nahi hain." Her attempt to mimic Rayyan's authoritative tone added a comical touch to the ongoing banter but he wasn't less as he spoke in her tone

(oh what! Yours? YOURS? not yours child, these are mine that never come back to me after I place them in laundry)

Mahad retaliated furiously, expressing the common frustration shared by Rayyan, Mahad, and Mahid – the perpetual disappearance of their shirts after a trip to the laundry. It seemed like Zoya, more akin to a man than a woman in her shirt-wearing preferences, had a knack for adopting their clothes into her wardrobe.

Feeling the frustration mounting, Zoya couldn't contain herself and yelled out Rayyan's name. The prospect of facing Rayyan's disapproval made Mahad yelp, realizing that a confrontation with Rayyan at this hour was less than ideal.

"Arey arey Zoii, aise kya karti hai? Hum ek hi to hain, lele jitni shirts leni hain, balke ruk, meri puri almari leja," Mahad grumbled, a mix of irritation and playful banter evident in his words. The exasperation shared among the nemesis over their shirts vanished momentarily, replaced by the lighthearted exchange unfolding in the Khan household.

(arey Arey zoii, what are you doing.. we are one take as many shirts as you want, even take my Almirah)

Mahad stepped towards Zoya, almost pleading with her not to call Rayyan. "Hmm, that's most likely it," Zoya responded, a smirk playing on her lips. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she left the room after snatching the shirts laid out on the single chair.

Mahad took a deep breath to regain composure, suppressing the annoyance that had flared up. With a sigh, he began preparing himself for breakfast, the lingering tension momentarily forgotten as he embraced the familiar chaos that accompanied his daily routines.

All of them gathered in the dining room, indulging in the breakfast skillfully prepared by their princesses. A hushed atmosphere hung in the air until Azan Khan, fondly known as Dada jaan, broke the silence.

"Aqib, jo kal tumhe maine poocha tha, kya tumne Rayyan se poocha?" Dada jaan inquired, directing his question to his son. Rayyan's gaze shifted to his father, a hint of confusion etched on his face, while Aqib shook his head.

(Aqib, did you ask rayyan what I told you to?)

"Nahi, abba jaan. Kal raat Rayyan ghar late aya, aur hum sab so chuke the," Aqib responded, providing an explanation for the missed conversation. The dining room momentarily held its breath, the weight of an unspoken question lingering in the air.

(no baba, Rayyan came home late at night, we were asleep)

Rayyan, facing his Dada jaan, uttered, "Kya baat hai, Dada jaan. Ap khud pooch lete mujh se." There was a palpable tension in the room, a sense of anticipation.

(Whats the matter dada jaan, you should've asked me yourself)

Dada jaan, with his honey-like sweet voice, responded, "Hmm. Jab tum 25 saal ke the, tumne kaha tha k kuch time bad karunga shadi, mujhe nahi pata tha k tumhara kuch itne saal ban jaenge, Rayyan." The weight of unfulfilled promises and the passage of time hung heavily in the air, making Rayyan's sigh resonate with unspoken complexities.

(When you were 25, you said you will marry soon, I never knew your soon was these many years)

"Dada jaan, abhi dil nahi hai," Rayyan confessed, and his ammi glared at him, her disapproval echoing through the room. "Kya dil nahi hai. Shadi k lie bhi koi aisa kehta hai bhala? Abbu ji, ap hi kaho isse. Maine or ammi ne kab se iske lie larki dhoondi hui hai. Ap wo bechari bhi to sari zindagi iska intezar nahi karegi na," Rayyan's reluctance clashed with the urgency felt by his parents, creating a tension that left everyone on edge, their emotions biting at the very core of familial expectations.

(dada jaan, Im not in mood) 

(what not in mood, who says this for marriage, abbu ji, you say to him. Me and ammi has already selected a girl for him, and now she's also not gonna wait)

Rehana Begum, still giving Rayyan the classic mom glare, couldn't resist a sly smile as she turned to address her father-in-law, Dada jaan. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, someone's heart was doing somersaults, wondering why it felt a bit achy but not really sure why.

"Sahi baat hai, Rayyan bhai, karli jie shadi. Apke bad hi to ana hai hamara number," mahid quipped with a wink towards hadia, as if issuing a ticket number for the family drama queue. The unexpected touch of humor transformed the atmosphere, turning the conversation into a quirky blend of familial expectations and a dash of playful banter.

(Yes rayyan bhai, please marry so we can have our number next)

Mahid, his eyes fixed on Hadia, spoke with a playful tone that caught her off guard. She almost choked on her paratha, glaring at him, but he just shrugged his shoulders and smirked, innocence playing on his face. His attention then shifted to Arshad, who was already giving him a fierce glare.

Rayyan glanced at Maha, noticing her nonchalant attitude, sighed, and turned to his Dada jaan, saying, "Jo manzur ho apko, Dada jaan." He reluctantly agreed to get married, prompting a cascade of reactions in the room.

(Whatever you say dada jaan)

Expressions like "arey wah shaadi," "shopping," and "hamari bhi hogi yani shaadi" echoed in the background, each carrying a mix of surprise, excitement, and a hint of mischief. The prospect of Rayyan's marriage had injected a spark into the morning, making the atmosphere vibrant with a blend of emotions and anticipations.
----------
The nautanki gang sat in the lawn, engrossed in discussions about Rayyan's upcoming marriage. In the midst of their chatter, Maha's phone rang, and a soft smile lit up her face as she glanced at the caller ID. Politely excusing herself, she retreated to her room to take the call.

As she answered, a familiar voice delivered unexpected news, "Maha, bhai ki mangni ho gayi," said Hassan, Arsh's brother. The joyous news lingered in the air, but little did they know it would bring forth an unexpected storm of emotions.

(Maha, bhai is engaged)

Standing there, Maha was struck silent, her eyes betraying a mix of surprise and unshed tears. She cut the call abruptly, her fingers trembling as she dialed Arsh's number. Arsh picked up in his usual chirpy manner, oblivious to the storm that awaited him on the other end.

"Hi Maha, kya haal hai?" he asked, his laughter adding a cruel contrast to what was about to unfold. Her voice, cracked and vulnerable, sought answers to the sudden change in their story. "Ye kya mazak hai, Arsh?" she questioned, desperately seeking a reassurance that was slipping away.

(How are you maha)
(What kind of joke is that?)

Arsh's response was cold and callous, "Jana, don't tell me you thought I still love you." His words cut through her like a knife, and she, in a voice shattered by his unexpected betrayal, tried to justify her past actions.

"I stopped loving you the moment you misbehaved with my mother, and I harbor resentment for that, Maha," he declared, leaving Maha to listen with bated breath as his words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their shattered connection.

"Arsh us waqt khala ne mujh par ilzam lagaya tha, she pointed her finger at my character," she pleaded, hoping he would understand. But Arsh's tone only intensified, "Bhar mai jao tum or bhar mai jae tumhari ammi arsh. Maine nahi socha tha tum aise niklo ge. Chalo acha hai abhi se pata chal gaya mujhe tumhari aukat ka," she declared callously, severing whatever remained of their shared history.

(Arsh your mother pointed her finger at my character)
(You know what, go to hell both you and your brother, I never knew you will turn out to be like that and I am glad I know that now)

Sitting on the bed, Maha felt the weight of his words crush her spirit. She promised herself not to cry, to stand strong, but a lone tear betrayed her silent resilience. The room echoed with the silence of shattered dreams and unspoken pain.

Hadia, witnessing her sister's anguish, rushed to Rayyan. Bursting into his room, her eyes pleaded for help as she urgently informed him about Maha's tears. Rayyan, a storm of emotions brewing within, made his way to her room. The sight of Maha, tears streaming down her face, brought a pang to his heart. He couldn't fathom the depth of her pain, but he vowed to be there for her, a silent guardian amidst the storm of emotions that had engulfed their world.