Morning light slipped quietly through the curtains, soft and golden. Aarib stirred slightly in his sleep.
For a second, he didn’t understand why he felt warm. Why something felt so close. Then reality settled.His face was nestled on Roshaane’s neck, his arm loosely resting across her waist. The night brought him much closer to him tgst he could feel her fragrance,  her sift skin on his cheek. Her scent lingered faintly around him.

Clean. Soft. Familiar.

His eyes opened slowly. Slowly he mived his head a biit back to look at her. She was still asleep.
Peaceful. Strands of her hair rested across her cheek. Her lashes curved delicately against her skin. The morning light made her features look almost unreal fragile but glowing. His heartbeat shifted. Not loud. But deeper. His gaze moved slowly taking in every detail as if seeing her for the first time, unintentionally.

The small crease near her brows. The faint pink of her lips. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing and then his eyes stopped at her neck. Her crystalline neck that made his eyes stick to it. The gold chain she always wore shimmered faintly against her skin. His fingers reacted before his mind did.

Slowly, unconsciously, his hand lifted. Just to touch. Just to feel. His fingertips brushed lightly against her neck, caressed at her throat line and she stirred. A soft movement. A faint murmur in her sleep. As if burned, he pulled his hand back immediately. His heart began racing now.

What am I doing?

He shifted quickly, turning to the other side of the bed, putting distance between them. He stared at the wall, breathing unevenly. He tried to understand himself. This wasn’t confusion anymore. This wasn’t obligation.

Then what was it?

He ran a hand through his hair and quietly slipped out of bed without disturbing her. After freshening up, he stepped into the living room.
Aarham and Mehak were already awake, seated with tea in their hands.

“Good morning,” Mehak greeted warmly.

“Morning,” he replied, taking a seat beside them.

Aarham studied him for a second but said nothing about the visible restlessness in his eyes.

“We were thinking,” Aarham began casually, “should we leave today or tomorrow?”

Aarib looked up immediately.
“So soon?”

Aarham gave a faint smile. "Mom and Dad will start asking questions. We’ve been away longer than planned.”
Aarib knew what he meant.

Mr. and Mrs. Jahan Ahmad wouldn’t suspect something without reason but prolonged absence invited curiosity.

“I can call and explain,” Aarib offered.

Aarham shook his head gently. “It’s better this way.”

Aarib nodded slowly. He didn’t push further.
Just as silence settled, footsteps echoed softly from the hallway. Roshaane emerged, freshly dressed, her hair opened, a soft smile on her face and a comb in her hand.
“Mind helping me comb,” she said pouting, and mehak giggled walked to her.

“Careful,” she reminded gently, adjusting her sling properly and then made her sit on one of the sofa and start combing her hair.

Aarib’s eyes lifted instinctively and then quickly lowered. He avoided looking at her directly. But his gaze betrayed him. Again and again it drifted.
To her neck.

To the gold chain catching the morning light.

His fingers remembered the brief touch.
The softness.
The warmth.
The urge to touch it again.

He clenched his jaw slightly. Fisting his hand.
Without a word, he stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

“I’ll make breakfast,” he announced.

In the kitchen, he busied himself with unnecessary intensity.

Cutting. Pouring. Heating.

Trying to distract his thoughts.

From the living room, he could hear Roshaane talking to Aarham,her laughter light, her tone playful.

But every now and then..
He felt it.

Her gaze.
On him.

Even without looking, he knew.
And when he finally dared to glance out, he caught her watching him. Softly. Knowingly. And this time, He looked away first.

-------

Maliha woke up with a strange lightness in her chest. For the first time in months, her thoughts didn’t feel heavy the moment she opened her eyes. The sunlight filtering through her curtains felt warmer. Softer. She lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.

So much had happened in the past months.
First, her heart had broken. Not suddenly but slowly. Painfully. Letting go of Aarib hadn’t been one decision. It had been a hundred silent sacrifices she convinced herself were necessary.
Then she had left the city.

Escaped, she used to call it.
Escaped the streets that reminded her of him. Escaped the café they once sat in. Escaped the house that echoed with memories.
Italy had been her refuge.

A place to breathe. To cry without being seen. To rebuild without questions. And there, in that unfamiliar land, she had found Haseeb.
Not love.
Just comfort.

He had entered her life like calm rain, steady, patient, never demanding. A friend who listened. A companion who made her laugh when she had forgotten how.

He didn’t try to replace Aarib.
He simply stood beside her while she stitched herself back together and slowly she came back to life. But then…His confession.

The day he told her he loved her.
The day he looked at her not as a friend but as someone he wanted a future with. That day, another war had begun inside her.
Because healing from one love is hard.
But standing at the door of another?

Terrifying.

She had thought she was ready. She had thought she had moved on. But the moment he confessed, her mind had split into questions.

She sat up slowly, pushing the blanket aside.
That night’s conversation with Aarib replayed briefly in her mind.
His words.
His pain.
His indifference.
And strangely, it didn’t shatter her.
It hurt.
Yes.

But it didn’t break her.
Because somewhere deep inside, she had already accepted it.
Aarib was no longer hers.

The morning was bright.
Alive.

She stepped out of her room after changing into a loose shirt and soft trousers, her hair half tied, half falling freely over her shoulders. As she entered the living room, she stopped in surprise.

“Assalam-o-Alaikum… You guys are here? This is really a surprise.”
She walked forward warmly and hugged Mr. and Mrs. Isham one by one.

“We missed you,” Sana Isham said softly, holding her hands for a moment longer.

“I missed you too,” Maliha replied honestly.

“It’s good to see you looking better,” Mr. Isham added as everyone settled down.

Tea was served. Polite conversation floated around the room. Then Mr. Isham cleared his throat.

“I’ve come here with a purpose,” he began, placing his cup carefully back on the table.
Something in his tone made Maliha’s heartbeat slow.

“I’m here with a proposal.” His eyes shifted toward her.

Her face drained of color instantly.
She knew.

“What proposal?” Mr. Farooqi asked, curious but calm.

“I’m here with my son’s proposal for Maliha.”

Silence.
Complete silence.

Rehman was the first to react. “Really?” His face lit up with excitement.

Mrs. Saba Farooqi looked stunned. “That’s… really?” A hopeful smile slowly touched her lips.

But before anyone could continue, Maliha stood up.

“My answer is no.”

Her voice was steady, but firm.She turned to leave.

“Why?” Mr. Isham’s calm voice stopped her.
She didn’t turn around.

“Age difference? Or something else?” he asked gently.

She turned sharply this time.

“I’m older than him. Six years. Don’t you see it? Doesn’t it matter?” she argued, her tone defensive.

“It doesn’t matter to us,” Mr. Isham replied calmly.

“And it doesn’t matter to Haseeb as well.”
He paused.

“Anything else?”
She swallowed.

“I’m not ready for this marriage thing.”

Sana Isham leaned slightly forward. “We can help you make up your mind.”

For a second, Maliha was speechless.
The room felt smaller.

“I’m… not… interested,” she said finally, each word clipped and controlled.

And she walked out. Behind her, silence lingered only for a moment. Before soft murmurs began.
Rehman was already smiling. Mrs. Farooqi looked emotional. The elders exchanged hopeful glances. As if her refusal wasn’t a full stop, but just hesitation before a yes.

-----

It was evening. The house felt suffocating after spending the entire day inside her room. Maliha stepped out into the lawn, hoping the cool breeze would quiet the storm inside her. But just as she reached the steps, her feet halted.

Voices.

Mr. and Mrs. Isham were sitting in the lawn, enjoying the evening air. A phone lay on the table between them,on speaker. And she knew that voice instantly.

Haseeb.

“Where are you guys? You just left without telling me where you’re heading?” His tone carried mild frustration.

“Ask your father. It was his plan,” Sana Isham replied lightly.

“What plan?” Haseeb asked, confused.

There was a pause.

Then Mr. Isham spoke, calm and direct.

“We’re on search of your bride.”
Silence on the other side.

“What bride?” Haseeb sounded genuinely lost.

“We’ve brought your proposal to Maliha’s home,” Mr. Isham continued. “After all, I can’t watch my son losing himself every day.”

Maliha’s breath caught.

“What?” Haseeb’s voice rose. “You’ve gone to her home? No. You can’t do this.”
Shock. Panic.

“Why not?” Mr. Isham countered. “Should we let you drown yourself in files and court cases? Should we watch you grow distant from us?”
There was silence from Haseeb.

Heavy silence.

“Dad… it’s not like that,” he said finally, but his defense sounded weak even to himself.

“You both need each other,” Mr. Isham pressed gently. “She doesn’t see it yet, but you do. Only you can handle her. Only you can bring her happiness back because your happiness is tied to hers.”

Maliha’s fingers curled into her palms. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. On the other side of the phone, Haseeb exhaled slowly.

“I don’t want to force her into anything,” he said, his voice steady now. “That’s exactly why I don’t want you to force her. Please. Don’t push her into something she doesn’t want.”
His words were clear.

Protective.
Firm.

And then the call disconnected. The lawn fell quiet again. Mr. and Mrs. Isham exchanged a look, but neither noticed the figure standing just beyond the shadowed doorway. Maliha stepped back slowly. Her thoughts were no longer angry.
They were tangled.

He didn’t want to force her.
He didn’t want to trap her.

He was willing to step back, even now. And that realization shook her more than the proposal itself. Without making a sound, she turned and walked back to her room.
------

The night felt unbearably heavy. The clock ticked past each second, yet her mind refused to slow down. Thoughts overlapped, collided, and tangled until she couldn’t tell one from another.

What should she do?
Which path was hers?

It was almost eleven when a soft knock echoed on her door. She quickly wiped her face. “Come in.”

Mr. Farooqi entered quietly.

“Still awake?” he asked gently.

She nodded, offering a small, tired smile as he walked over and sat beside her on the bed.

“Thoughts?” he asked.

She nodded again.

He studied her for a moment before speaking.

“Don’t think I’m forcing you,” he began softly. “I’m saying this as a friend… and as a father who wants his daughter’s happiness.”

She kept her gaze lowered, fingers twisting in her lap.

“I want you to move on now,” he said carefully.
Her eyes lifted to meet his.

“Is it that easy, Dad?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he admitted honestly. “It’s not.”
He paused.

“You took six months. You can take more. But what’s the point… when I know I’ll still find you standing at this same place even after years?”
Her lips trembled.

Silent sobs escaped her.

“It was your decision to let him go,” her father continued gently. “Then why these tears? Why this loneliness?”
She had no answer.

Because the truth was, letting go didn’t mean healing.

“You deserve to be happy,” he said firmly.
She closed her eyes.

“If you don’t take a step forward, you won’t come out of this broken state. I know forgetting isn’t easy… but it’s not impossible either.”
His voice wasn’t harsh.

It was steady.
Grounded.

“Take your time,” he added. “But think about Haseeb this time not as a friend. Think about him as a companion.”

The word lingered in the air.
Companion.

“I can’t love again,” she sobbed suddenly. “I just… can’t.”

She leaned forward, resting her head against her father’s shoulder like a child seeking shelter.
He wrapped his arm around her instantly.

“Let time decide that,” he murmured, kissing her head. “For now, just think. Think about the happiness waiting for you. Think about the love that might be waiting too.”

She cried quietly in his embrace.Not loudly.Not dramatically. But with the exhaustion of someone who had been strong for too longAnd her father simply held her.

"Stop escaping of everything. Try to fight, to accept to love again." Her father said caressed her hair.

Not pushing.
Not demanding.
Just hoping she would find the courage to choose life again.

------

Two days passed. Aarham and Mehak had returned home, satisfied that Roshaane was recovering well. Her fractured arm was healing steadily, though it still made simple tasks frustrating.

That evening, Aarib was at the restaurant while Roshaane and Zainab had turned the living room into their little battlefield, a ludo board spread between them, laughter echoing through the house. Crispy fries and pizza boxes lay open on the table.

“Any progress with your husband?” Zainab asked, chewing a fry mischievously.

Roshaane rolled the dice, pretending to focus. “He’s been avoiding looking at me for the last two days. Isn’t that strange?”

Zainab paused mid-bite, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully.

“What could be the reason?” she muttered dramatically.

“I don’t know,” Roshaane sighed. “I’ve tried talking normally. But it’s like he’s struggling with something.”

“Maybe he’s tangled in your beauty,” Zainab winked.

“Shut up,” Roshaane shot back, her cheeks instantly turning pink.

Zainab laughed. “Fine, fine. So… any plans of going to Pakistan?”

“Not yet. Let me heal properly first,” Roshaane replied. “Then I’ll talk to Aarib about it.”

Before Zainab could respond, the door opened.
Hikmat and Aarib entered together. Aarib placed the grocery bags on the table, and instinctively, his eyes lifted. They met hers. And there it was again that sparkle. That warmth. The way her eyes lit up simply because he had walked in.
His heart reacted before he could stop it.

It beat faster.

Because now… he could read it.

Her eyes held something clear. Something soft. Something meant only for him.

“We brought dinner,” Hikmat announced cheerfully — only to notice the pizza boxes.

“You girls already ate?” he raised a brow.

“Don’t worry, Hikmat bhai,” Roshaane smiled sweetly. “We have a big appetite.”

Aarib’s lips curved slightly before he quickly looked away and carried the fruits into the kitchen. They all ate together anyway, laughing and chatting. Plans of a picnic were discussed since wedding preparations in Hikmat’s family were about to begin.

Soon, Hikmat and Zainab left. The house quieted.
Aarib began cleaning the dining table and kitchen while Roshaane remained seated, her gaze following him everywhere. He could feel it.
That constant stare.

“Crazy girl,” he murmured under his breath, hiding a smile.

His heart felt… light.

“How long are you going to take?” her voice suddenly came from behind him.

He froze.

She was standing very close. Too close. Her chin lightly brushed his shoulder. His movement stopped instantly. His heart jumped violently.
He turned slightly, and suddenly their faces were inches apart. Her left hand rested lightly on his arm for balance.

“I… was just asking,” she stammered, realizing the closeness. She stepped back quickly, her face flushed, eyes avoiding his.

He clenched his fists to stop himself from pulling her back.

“I’m done,” he said abruptly, turning away.

He switched off the lights and walked toward the bedroom.

She followed silently, internally scolding herself.
Inside the room, he went to change while she stood in front of the mirror, pouting.

“How am I supposed to do this?” she muttered, removing the small clip from her hair.

She tried gathering her hair with her left hand. It slipped. She tried again. Failed again. Aarib stepped out of the washroom and paused at the sight. She was arguing with her own reflection, making frustrated faces. He smiled despite himself.

“Enough playing,” he said, walking toward her.

“I’m not playing,” she protested, trying again.

“It looks like it,” he replied, gently taking the comb from her hand and replacing it with a brush.

“When will my arm heal?” she sighed.

He didn’t answer.
He just began brushing her hair slowly.
Carefully.

His fingers grazed the back of her neck.
Her breath hitched.

His own heartbeat felt strange, heavier, louder.
He gathered her hair into a ponytail, his knuckles brushing her skin again. She gripped the fabric of her shirt tightly. Silence wrapped around them.
Only the sound of their uneven breathing filled the room. When he finished securing the ponytail, he should have stepped back. But he didn’t.

His fingers lingered.

Almost unconsciously, they traced the gold chain resting against her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed tightly. His fingertips moved lightly along the chain… and then along her skin. The touch was soft. But it carried everything unsaid between them.

“A… Aarib…” her voice trembled.

Reality snapped back.

He pulled his hand away immediately. She stood up at once. Both of them stepped apart, turning in opposite directions. Neither met the other’s eyes.
The moment that had just passed between them was deeper than words. It wasn’t playful teasing. It wasn’t accidental closeness.

It was awareness.
Of each other.
Of their hearts.

And now, the silence between them wasn’t awkward, It was charged.
And neither of them knew who would dare to break it first.

A/N:: Assalam-o-Alaikum, my lovely readers!

​How are you all doing? I’m back with another update!

​I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter. Aarib and Roshaane are finally growing closer, and I know you’ve all been waiting to see Aarib feel that spark for her, the way a husband truly should. It’s a slow burn, but so worth it!
​Now, let’s talk about Maliha and Haseeb...

What do you think is going through Maliha’s mind? What are you expecting from their story next? I have a massive surprise in store for you all any guesses on what it could be?

​I’ll be waiting for your theories and thoughts in the comment section! Please don't forget to Vote and Share to show your support.

​Note: The next update might take 2–3 days as things are a bit hectic on my end. I’ll try my best to get it to you sooner if I find some free time!

​With love,
Your Author