“Haseeb, come fast. Your mother collapsed.”
The voice note ended.

Haseeb stared at his phone screen, his heartbeat dropping and then rising violently. He was still in his office. For a second, everything around him blurred. He replayed the message. His father’s voice wasn’t normal. It was shaken.

Panicked.

He dialed immediately.
No answer.

“Dad… pick up,” he muttered, already standing up, knocking a file off his desk.

He tried again. Still nothing. His chest tightened.
He hadn’t spoken to them properly in three days. Work had been overwhelming. New cases, back-to-back hearings.
Or maybe…

Maybe he had buried himself in work on purpose.
To avoid thinking. To avoid her.
Maliha.

Even now, in this panic, her face flickered in his mind. Her refusal. Her tears. Her silence.
He shook his head. Not now.
He dialed again. No answer. He dialed reham and Mr farooqi number but they didn't answered as well, panicked him more. Without wasting another second, he opened his laptop with trembling hands and searched for the earliest flight to Istanbul.

5:00 AM.

Four hours from now. He booked it immediately.
Then he remembered,

Visa.

He cursed under his breath. Though he lived in Italy with a valid residence permit, Turkey still required an e-visa. His fingers moved quickly as he opened the official e-visa portal. Fill details.
His hands weren’t steady.

“Come on… come on…” he whispered.
He clicked submit.

For a few seconds, the screen loaded.
Those seconds felt endless.
Then...

Approved.

The confirmation email arrived instantly.
He exhaled deeply, almost collapsing into the chair in relief. But there was no time to breathe.
He grabbed his bag, rushed out of the office, dialing again.

“Mom… are you okay?” he sent a voice note this time. “Dad, please pick up.”
No blue ticks.

The silence was terrifying.

He reached home, threw a few clothes into a small bag, passport in pocket, charger, documents, barely thinking. All the way to the airport, he kept dialing.
Still nothing.

By the time he reached Airport, it was past 3 AM. The airport lights were harsh against his tired eyes. He checked in quickly, passed security, and finally sat near the boarding gate. For the first time since the voice note, he was forced to sit still. And that made it worse. His mind filled with images. His mother lying unconscious. His father alone. What if he was too late?
What if...

He closed his eyes and pressed his palms together.

“Ya Allah… please,” he whispered. “Let her be fine.”

Boarding was announced.
At 5:00 AM sharp, the plane lifted into the dark sky.

Below him, Italy’s city lights shrank.
Above him, the sky slowly shifted from black to faint blue. The flight was only three hours. But it felt like eternity. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t move.
He just prayed. And somewhere between fear and guilt, another thought kept returning, if something happens to mom … And I wasn’t there.
He swallowed hard.

As the plane began descending toward Istanbul, the sun was rising over the horizon. He leaned forward in his seat. Almost there.
Just hold on, Mom.
I’m coming.

-------

The bus horn echoed outside the house.

“It’s here!” Aarib informed her.

Aarib and Roshaane stepped out together, fully ready for the day. It was the long-planned bachelor’s picnic, two days before the wedding celebrations would begin. Hikmat’s family had arranged a grand outing across Istanbul for the bride, groom, relatives, and close friends.

Two large buses stood outside, already half-filled with excited voices and laughter.Aarib paused for a second. Roshaane stood a step ahead of him.
She was dressed in navy blue. Her gown flowed down to her ankles, soft and elegant, paired with a light stole draped gracefully around her neck. The tiny bandage near her temple was still visible, her arm remained in a sling, and faint scratches marked her jaw, reminders of the accident from a month ago.

But none of it dimmed her glow. Her smile was intact.
Bright.
Alive.

She turned slightly before stepping onto the bus and found him standing just behind her, watching her carefully, as if memorizing every movement.
Their eyes met.
Two days.

Two days since that night.
Since his fingers had traced the gold chain on her crystalline neck. Since that one fragile, electric moment that had changed something between them.

Two days of silence.
Two days of hesitation.

Two days of running from a feeling neither could name aloud.

“Be careful,” he said quietly.

She nodded and stepped onto the bus.
“Marhaba,” she greeted with a cheerful smile as everyone waved at her warmly.

Zainab immediately pulled her to sit beside her. Roshaane glanced up just as Aarib entered. He saw her already seated. Hikmat suppressed a grin and tugged Aarib down beside him.

“Don’t worry,” Hikmat whispered teasingly. “She’s still yours.”

Aarib shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes for a second.
And the memory returned. That night.
Her soft skin beneath his thumb. The shimmer of her chain. The tiny strands of hair brushing her neck. The pulse beneath her skin. The way his heart had awakened in ways he hadn’t allowed it to before. Even now, remembering it made his breath uneven.

He opened his eyes abruptly.He had tried to pull himself away from her presence these last two days.But distance hadn’t helped.If anything, it had made everything louder inside him.The journey began with laughter and songs. The younger group sang Turkish songs loudly at the back while others clapped along. Roshaane and Aarib joined the rhythm, careful not to look at each other too long.

Their first stop was the Blue Mosque.
The peaceful courtyard welcomed them with calm silence. Inside, the quiet atmosphere softened everyone’s voices.
They prayed.
Sat.

Stayed longer than the rest.
Roshaane and Aarib remained seated a little after others had stepped out,  not speaking, not looking at one another yet sharing the same stillness.
As they walked out, they walked side by side.

Close.
Belonging.
Even in silence.

Later, they rested at Sultanahmet Square, sitting on the grass under the warm sky. The bride and groom were teased endlessly.

“Freedom ends in two days!” someone shouted, making everyone laugh.

“I don’t think so,” Roshaane said suddenly.

She couldn’t speak Turkish fluently, but she understood enough. She chose English instead.

“Marriage doesn’t cage you unless you treat it like a prison,” she said softly but confidently.

Aarib translated every word into Turkish.
His eyes remained on her.

“It gives you someone you can lean on,” she continued. “Marriage is about trust and love. Understanding and caring. Having a companion who never gets bored of your chatter… who doesn’t complain about your clumsiness.”
Laughter and claps followed.

But her gaze shifted.
To him.

“Marriage means forgiving the faults of your other half,” she said gently.

He translated, voice slightly lower now.
“Accepting them. Fulfilling the promises you made. And loving her more than yourself.”

The applause grew louder.
Aarib looked away. So did she. But something had passed between them. She had spoken. He had delivered her words. And both had felt the weight of them.

By noon, they boarded a ferry for a Bosphorus cruise. The wind was stronger over the water.
He held her hand while helping her step onto the ferry. And once aboard,
He didn’t let go.
Neither did she.

The simple contact made their hearts flutter unexpectedly. She stood near the railing, watching the water shimmer below. The ferry jolted slightly. She instinctively leaned back.
His arm wrapped around her waist instantly, pulling her close to steady her.

“Careful,” he whispered.

They were too close now. Breaths touching.
Eyes locked. The sound of the ferry horn shattered the moment. They stepped apart quickly.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking away.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she replied softly.

He still couldn’t look at her.

“Aarib.”

Her voice made him lift his gaze.Her eyes held something steady. Brave.

“Whatever happens,” she said quietly, “I want your eyes on me. Always.”

And before he could respond, she turned and hurried toward Zainab, cheeks flushed, heart racing. He stood frozen. Her words echoed louder than the wind. He turned to look at her. She was laughing now with the girls, pretending nothing had happened. But she knew. She could feel his gaze on her. And though she didn’t look back. Her smile deepened.

------

By the time Haseeb reached Istanbul, evening had settled over the city. The taxi stopped outside Mr. Farooqi’s bungalow. It was brightly lit. Too brightly lit. Lights wrapped around the balcony railings. Flowers decorated the gate. The house looked… festive.

His heart began pounding harder. He paid the driver hurriedly and almost ran inside. As soon as he stepped into the hall, he noticed a strange bustle,  people moving, soft murmurs, distant laughter.

“Haseeb! You came!” Rehman was the first to spot him. He rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

“What’s happening? Is my mom okay?” Haseeb asked breathlessly, pulling back to search his face.

“They’re both fine,” Rehman replied with a reassuring smile.

Haseeb blinked.
Fine?

Then why??

His eyes moved around the hall. Flowers. Decorations. Soft golden lights glowing along the walls.

“What’s going on?” he asked again, confusion mixing with lingering fear.

“Come inside,” Rehman said gently, guiding him further in.

“Dad… Mom...” Haseeb called out as he saw them standing together.

He hurried to them and hugged his mother tightly.

“Why weren’t you picking up my calls? I was so scared,” he said, his voice still shaky.

Mr. Isham checked his phone and frowned slightly. “Oh… I’ve been busy. I didn’t notice the calls.”

Busy?

Haseeb stepped back and looked at both of them properly.

They were dressed formally. As if attending a wedding. His stomach dropped.

“What’s happening?” he asked slowly.

Mr. Isham smiled.

“It’s Maliha’s wedding tonight.”

The words hit him like a physical blow.

“What?” he whispered.

“With great difficulty, we convinced her,” Mrs. Isham added softly. “She wasn’t agreeing to this marriage at all.”

His heart shattered in his chest.
How could they?

They knew.

They knew how much he loved her.

“She can’t… marry someone else,” he stammered, his eyes filling with tears.

“Come, it’s time. The groom is here,” Mr. Isham said cheerfully.

Mr. Farooqi stepped forward to hug him warmly.
But Haseeb felt detached.
Numb.

As if everything around him had become distant noise.

“Come, Haseeb. Let me introduce you to the groom,” his father said.

He walked forward like a defeated man. Like someone walking toward his own loss. He barely noticed where he was being seated. Minutes passed. For few minutes, he wasn't bothered. He just kept sitting, lost in thoughts. Felt suffocated. A tear slipped from his eye as if he was going to lose his life.

A Qazi sat beside him.

“Haseeb,” his father whispered, tapping his shoulder. “Listen.”

Haseeb looked up.

The Qazi spoke calmly:
“Do you, Haseeb Isham, son of Muhammad Isham, accept Maliha Farooqi, daughter of Muhammad Farooqi, as your wife, with the mahr of fifty thousand?”
Haseeb blinked.

The words didn’t register at first.

“Say it,” his father whispered softly near his ear.

“She already said yes.”

“She… did?” he asked faintly.

Mr. Isham nodded with a smile.
The question was repeated.The room felt silent.
His heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear his own voice.

“I… do.”

His throat felt dry.

“I… do.”

One more time.
“I… do.”

Applause broke out.

Mr. Farooqi and Mr. Isham embraced each other warmly. Congratulations filled the room. The Qazi began reciting prayers. But Haseeb sat still. Eyes closed. Trying to understand.
Maliha. His Maliha. Was now his wife.

“I want to see her. Now,” he said suddenly, standing up.

No one stopped him. They all understood.
He walked quickly toward her room. Stopped outside the door. Took a deep breath. Then pushed it open. She was there. Sitting on the edge of the bed. Dressed in deep red.
A heavy dupatta rested over her head. Her arms shimmered with bangles. Her makeup was delicate but bridal. Bare feet rested on the carpet, silver anklets glinting softly.

She was ready.
As his bride.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a second, trying to steady his breath.

"I'm not believing it." His voice was mere a whisper, eyes glistening, head rested on the door.

"Is it really you, Maliha?" he asked again, his eyes fixed on her bridal figure. She neither looked up at him nor answered.

“Is this a miracle,” he asked softly, “or did you pity me?”

She didn’t look up again.

“I pitied myself,” she replied quietly.

He kept looking at her for few seconds as if believing on what his eyes were witnessing.He stepped closer. Slowly walked to her.

“You don’t deserve pity and you know that.” His voice was deep.

“I don’t deserve love either,” she said, her voice trembling. “A coward like me… who couldn’t fight for her own happiness.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

He moved in front of her and slowly sank to his knees. He took her hands in his trembling ones. His eyes for second lay on her hands and then looked up at her face.

“You deserve all the love in the world,” he said gently.

She gave a weak smile.

“I’m a coward, Haseeb. I always run from love.”

"No you're not coward." He said trying to calm her.

“Not this time,” he whispered. “This time I won’t let you run. " He said looking up in her eyes.

"And if I did?" She asked, her eyes waiting for his answer.

"I'll find you, follow you but won't let you escape from me." His words made her laugh a bit.

"As if I'll let you know where I'm going." She mocked, her eyes glistened fixed on him.

"My hearts knows, and it follows you everywhere." He said and she just smiled this time.

"Thank you.” He said suddenly.

"For what?" She asked  looking at their hands, feeling the warmth his hands giving to hers.

"For choosing me. For not making me wait too long."  He lifted her hands and pressed a soft kiss to them.

She shivered at the gesture.

“I don’t think I can… love again,” she sobbed.

He cupped her face carefully.

“My love will be enough for both of us,” he said.

“Maybe one day… you’ll fall in love with me too.”
She looked straight into his eyes.

“You think I’ll be able to walk with you? I’m not that strong.”

“Yes, you are,” he said firmly. “And I’ll heal every wound with my love.”

He sat beside her now, still holding her hands.

“I rushed here in such a hurry,” he added softly. “I didn’t even bring you anything.”
He wiped her tears with his thumb.

“By the way,” he said, trying to lighten the air, “how does it feel being Mrs. Haseeb Isham?”

“Shut up,” she muttered, hitting his shoulder lightly, half-sobbing, half-smiling.

And for the first time that night, he saw hope flicker in her eyes. And his heart, still racing from disbelief, finally began to settle.

--------

By the time the sun had fully set, Istanbul shimmered under golden lights.

They had roamed the city the entire day, laughter, photos, teasing, ferry rides, street food, prayers, memories. It was exhausting in the best way possible.

And to end the day, Aarib had surprised everyone.

“Dinner is on me,” he had said casually. “At A&A.”
Cheers had followed instantly.

Soon both buses were parked outside A&A Restaurant, warmly lit and welcoming. Staff hurried respectfully as the large group entered. Tables were arranged together, dishes served generously,  grilled platters, rice, fresh salads, warm bread, desserts.

Everyone ate with the appetite that only a long day outdoors could create. Hikmat teased the groom again. Zainab laughed uncontrollably. Elders spoke fondly of weddings and memories.
Roshaane sat quietly for a moment, watching Aarib from across the table.
He was smiling.

Relaxed.

And every time he unknowingly glanced her way, her heart skipped. After dinner, it was finally time to head home. The buses began dropping families one by one. Inside the dimly lit bus, exhaustion had softened everyone. Conversations were quieter now.Roshaane was still seated beside Zainab. She turned slightly.
Aarib was a few seats behind. He was already looking at her.

Their eyes met.

Her heartbeat quickened.
She turned forward immediately, gathering her thoughts. Then leaned toward Zainab.

“You go sit with Hikmat bhai,” she whispered. “Let my husband come here.”

Zainab’s grin widened mischievously.

“Shut up,” Roshaane muttered, hiding her blush.
Zainab stood up and walked back.

“Can I sit here?” she asked Aarib sweetly. “You can take my seat.”

Aarib understood instantly.

He nodded without a word and walked forward.
He wanted to sit beside her too. As he sat down, their eyes met for a brief second. Then both looked away.

Silence.
And then...

He felt her hand slip around his arm.
She leaned her head gently against his shoulder.

“You should’ve sat with me,” she complained softly.

“You wanted to sit with your friend,” he replied.

“Shouldn’t you try to sit next to me?” she countered.

“As if you asked me to? I thought...”
She lifted her head suddenly.

Her finger pressed gently against his lips.
Silencing him.

They stayed like that.
Eyes locked.
Breaths slow.

“I’ve been waiting,” she whispered. “But it’s always me who calls you closer. You never come by yourself.”
She rested her head back on his shoulder.

His heartbeat grew louder.
“How would I know you were waiting?” he asked quietly.

“You should know,” she said. “Don’t you know how much I...”
She stopped.

His heart thudded hard. He waited.
He wanted her to say it. It had been a month since her accident,  the last time she had confessed her love openly. Since then, she hadn’t repeated those words.

And only now was he realizing how much he had become used to hearing them. How much he craved them. But she didn’t continue.
She simply closed her eyes. He clenched his fist lightly, trying to steady the chaos inside him. What was this feeling? Why did her silence disturb him more than her confession ever had?
The bus slowed.
Stopped.

“Roshaane,” he called softly.

She opened her sleepy eyes.
“It’s home.”

She nodded.

They stepped down, waving goodbye to everyone.
The house was quiet. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, then turned.  She stepped inside and he turned to lock the door and as turned found her still standing there.

She was still standing near the entrance.

“Why are you standing there?” he asked, placing the keys aside.

“Carry me to the room,” she said simply, walking straight toward him and resting her forehead lightly against his shoulder.

Her hair slipped forward, exposing the back of her neck. He immediately looked away.

“Roshaane, what is this?” he said, forcing calmness. “Go inside. I’ll bring water.”

“Carry me… please,” she said again, her voice softer this time.

Her arms slid around his neck.

“This girl,” he murmured.

He bent slightly and lifted her into his arms.
She closed her eyes instantly, as if she had been waiting for that comfort all day.

He walked toward the bedroom carefully, his heartbeat refusing to settle. He laid her gently on the bed, removed her sandals, and turned to leave, but her hand caught his.

“Sleep,” she said quietly, pulling him closer and shifting to make space.

He froze for a second.

Then slowly lay down beside her. She immediately rested her head on his shoulder again. Like it belonged there.

He looked at her face peaceful, content.
A small smile curved on his lips.
For the first time in days, neither of them was running. And slowly, quietly, with her breathing evening against him,
He drifted to sleep too.

A/N:: Assalam-o-alikum readers.

How are you all?

The chapter is here and I hope you all have enjoyed it.

This chapter had my whole heart. From Haseeb’s fear to that unexpected nikkah… and Aarib and Roshaane? Their silence is slowly turning into something, and neither can escape.

Tell me your favourite moment… and get ready because the real emotions are just beginning.

I don't know when I'll update next. But I'll try to soon.

Do vote and comment.

With love
Your Author.