The long journey had left them exhausted. Haseeb and Maliha finally reached Rome. But there was barely any time to rest. A lot of work had piled up at the office during the wedding days. So after a short rest, Haseeb and Mr. Isham left for the office for a few hours to clear the pending work.

Meanwhile, Sana Isham stayed home with Maliha.
Together they began arranging her luggage in Haseeb’s room. As they reached the door, Maliha hesitated. It felt strange entering this room now. Before, it was simply Haseeb’s room. Now it was supposed to be their room.

Sana Isham noticed the hesitation immediately. She gently held Maliha’s hand and guided her inside.

“Come.”

She made Maliha sit on the bed and then sat beside her.

“You’ve made the best decision,” Sana Isham said warmly.

Maliha lowered her gaze, voicing the fear that had been quietly sitting in her heart.

“What if… I can never love him?”
Sana Isham smiled softly.

“Falling in love takes time,” she said gently. “And love isn’t the most important thing in a marriage.”
Maliha looked at her with surprise.

“Respect, care, understanding, and friendship… those are what truly matter,” she continued. “And you already have all of those in your relationship. Love will follow on its own.”
A small smile appeared on Maliha’s face.

Sana Isham squeezed her hand affectionately.

“This is your room now. My son is yours… and so are we. We’ll make you fall in love with us at any cost.”

Maliha giggled softly at her playful tone.
Together they began arranging her belongings.
Her clothes were placed neatly beside Haseeb’s in the wardrobe. Her makeup was arranged on the dressing table. Her shoes were placed beside his.
Little by little, the room started looking like it belonged to both of them.

“Now get ready,” Sana Isham suddenly said.

Maliha looked at her in confusion.
“Get ready? For what?”

Sana Isham smiled mischievously as she opened the wardrobe.

“Let’s give your husband a surprise. After all, we bought so many dresses.”
She pulled out one of the outfits.

Maliha immediately panicked.
“One of those heavy dresses? No way!” she said quickly, shutting the wardrobe door.

“Just for today,” Sana Isham insisted innocently.

And somehow, Maliha lost the argument.
The dress Sana chose was a dark blue outfit, beautifully embroidered with silver thread and pearls. It came with a heavily embellished dupatta and matching trousers. Maliha stared at the dress, then at Sana Isham. With a forced smile, she finally changed into it. The dress suited her beautifully. But it was heavy. The neckline was completely covered in thread and small pearls embroidery, and the long shirt fell below her knees with intricate work along the front. The dupatta was just as heavily decorated.

She applied a little makeup and wore light jewelry at Sana Isham’s insistence.

“This is the last time,” Maliha warned lightly.

“Haseeb is already impressed with me. I don’t need to do all this.”

She didn’t even realize the weight of her words until they had already slipped out. Sana Isham only smiled happily and kissed her forehead.

“I know,” she said warmly. “But men like it when their wives dress up for them.”

With that she walked out.

Carefully adjusting the heavy dupatta on her shoulder and balancing on her heels, Maliha followed her downstairs.

Evening tea had just been served when Haseeb and Mr. Isham returned from the office. Both looked tired. But the moment they stepped into the TV lounge, they stopped.

Maliha sat there, fully dressed, makeup done, looking as if she were ready for a wedding. Her legs cross linked on sofa, her heels resting on the carpet,fingers tapping the remote. Her restlessness could be seen. Both father and son looked at each other in confusion.
Then back at her.

“Assalam-o-Alaikum,” they greeted as they took seats.

“Walikum Assalam,” she replied, casually switching TV channels.

Haseeb studied her for a moment.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked, glancing at her dress and jewelry.

“Why would she?” Sana Isham replied while pouring tea. “She’s a newlywed. At least let her stay dressed like this for a few days.”

Haseeb, Maliha, and Mr. Isham exchanged glances. Both father and son looked at her, could understand her condition  All three nodded helplessly, hiding their smiles behind their teacups.

“I’ll bring some snacks,” Sana Isham said, leaving the lounge.

Now the three of them were alone.

“You’ve got a strict mother-in-law,” Mr. Isham chuckled.

“Not fair, uncle,” Maliha pouted.

Then she turned toward Haseeb.

“Why were you so late? I’ve been waiting since noon in this dress.”

“I was just stuck at work,” he tried to explain.

“And I’m still stuck in this dress,” she complained.

Then she stood in front of him.

“Well? You’ve seen me now. How do I look? Did I impress you?”

Haseeb chuckled and placed his teacup on the table.

“What does this mean?” he asked, looking at her pretty face.

“Khala said I should get ready to win your heart,” she replied, struggling slightly with the heavy dupatta.

Mr. Isham stood up with a smile.
“You two talk. I’ll join you later.”

He quietly left the room, giving them space.
Haseeb looked at her and gently took her hand.

“You don’t need to wear dresses like this to win my heart,” he said softly. “It already belongs to you.”

Her expression softened.

“Can I change now?” she asked. “Khala will scold me though.”

She sat back down and removed her earrings, placing them on the table.

“I feel like I’m going to a wedding,” she muttered.
Haseeb chuckled again.

“But you look beautiful.”
Those simple words made her stop completely.
She looked at him. He had already turned his attention to the TV. Yet somehow the restlessness she had been feeling disappeared.
For no reason, she suddenly felt… happy.

At the same moment Sana Isham returned.

“Why did you make my wife wear such a heavy dress?” Haseeb teased. “What if she falls?”

Sana Isham narrowed her eyes at him while he laughed.

“Come, let’s change,” Haseeb said, helping Maliha stand.

Sana Isham walked toward her room.
Haseeb picked up Maliha’s earrings and slipped them into his pocket while holding her dupatta in one hand while her heels in his other hand.Together they walked toward their room,
talking, teasing, and smiling softly along the way.

------
As they entered the room, Haseeb closed the door behind them while still holding Maliha’s heavy dupatta in his hand and heels in other. Maliha walked straight toward the dressing table and sighed in relief.

“I swear this dupatta alone weighs five kilos,” she muttered while touching her aching shoulder.

Haseeb chuckled and placed the dupatta carefully on the chair and heels down on the floor.

“You survived though,” he said. “That’s impressive.”

She turned toward him with a tired pout.
“You weren’t the one carrying it.”

“True,” he admitted. “But I was the one watching you struggle.”

“Very supportive husband,” she replied sarcastically.

Haseeb laughed softly and moved closer, stood near the wardrobe.  She reached behind her neck trying to open the hook of the heavy shirt but struggled. The fabric was stiff with embroidery.
Haseeb noticed.

“Wait,” he said gently, stepping closer. “Let me help.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly turned her back to him. His fingers gathered her hair  to put them on her shoulder, carefully opened the tiny hooks at the back, making sure not to touch her more than necessary. Both of them were quiet. The room suddenly felt very still.
When the last hook loosened, he stepped back immediately.

“There,” he said softly.

Maliha quickly picked up her night clothes.
“I’ll just change and come.”

“Take your time,” he replied.

She disappeared into the washroom.

Haseeb sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly glancing at the dupatta lying on the chair.

Maliha stepped out of the washroom, the soft click of the door barely audible in the quiet room.
She wore a loose shirt that reached her thighs and comfortable trousers. Her damp hair rested down her back, dark strands leaving faint wet marks on the fabric. On the bed, Haseeb lay on his side, scrolling lazily through his phone.
His thumb paused.

His eyes lifted. And then they stayed on her.
Maliha stretched her arms slightly, taking a deep breath like someone who had just escaped a long tiring day.

“How much I’m feeling relaxed,” she murmured to herself.

She walked to the dressing table and sat down, opening a small jar of cream and applying it to her face slowly. Haseeb watched quietly. For the first time he noticed something he hadn’t realized before.The dressing table had her things now, hairpins, creams, a perfume bottle, her brush with a few strands of her hair caught in it, her makeup.
Her presence was everywhere.

In the room.
In the little things.
In his life.

A soft smile touched his lips as he watched her bare face in the mirror, simple, fresh, without any makeup. Beautiful in the most effortless way.
He quietly got up from the bed and walked behind her. She was so focused on patting the cream on her cheeks that she didn’t notice him until he leaned down, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. His cheek brushed the cool dampness of her hair.

“Welcome to our room.”

His voice came softly beside her ear.
Maliha startled. Her heart jumped as she turned toward him quickly.

“You… scared me.”

Haseeb grinned lazily.
“I forgot you’ve a tiny heart.”

She straightened slightly, frowning.
“No. I’ve a big heart.”

“Oh really?” he said, raising a brow. “So can I get some place there?”

The words slipped out lightly.
Too lightly.
Maliha didn’t think.

“Sorry. It’s already full.”

The moment the words left her lips, silence followed. A strange silence. Both of them felt it.
Haseeb’s smile paused. For a brief second something flickered in his eyes. Then he looked down, forcing the same playful smile back onto his lips but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Okay,” he said casually. “Let me change then we’ll go down to have dinner.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He simply turned and walked toward the washroom. Maliha sat frozen on the chair. Her heart dropped.
The meaning of her words suddenly echoed loudly in her head.

“What he must be thinking?” she whispered to herself.

Worried, she ran her fingers through her hair and started pacing slowly in the room. Inside the washroom, Haseeb stood in front of the sink.
He splashed cold water on his face. His hands gripped the edges of the sink as he lowered his head slightly. His eyes burned.

Because somewhere… his heart had quietly hurt.
There was no place for him.
Not in her heart.
He already knew that.
But hearing it still stung.

“What am I thinking?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head at himself.

“I knew. Always knew.”

He wiped his face with a towel and looked at himself in the mirror.

“She’s here with me.”
He exhaled slowly.
“That’s enough.”

He repeated it again in his mind, like he was trying to convince himself. After changing, he stepped out of the washroom. His expression had settled again calm, controlled. But a little serious.
Maliha immediately looked at him. Her face was worried.

“Haseeb I… didn’t… mean...”

She struggled to form the words. He looked at her. Really looked at her. Her anxious eyes.
Her trembling voice.And just like that, he melted.
His own pain quietly stepped back, the way it always did. Her happiness came first.
Always.

“Hey… did I say something?” Haseeb asked softly.

“No… you just… went silent all of sudden… so I thought…”
Her voice broke slightly.

Her eyes filled with tears.Haseeb sighed softly.
He stepped forward and gently pulled her into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m just… stupid.”
His hand slowly caressed her hair.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, leaning back slightly.

She was quietly sobbing, sniffing.

“I just… thought I made you… offended.”
He smiled softly.

“I’m not offended.”

He cupped her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.
“You’re not allowed to cry, remember?”

She nodded slowly, still looking down.

“Now at least smile,” he said gently.

She tried.
But failed.

Haseeb suddenly straightened.

“Fine then,” he said casually.

“I’m going to sleep shirtless tonight.”
Her head snapped up in shock.

“No you’re not.”
His lips curved mischievously.

“Stop me then.”

He opened the top button of his shirt.
She quickly stepped forward and closed it again.
“No.”

He opened it again.
“Yes.”

She tied it again stubbornly.
“No.”

“Yes.”
He laughed.

And just like that the game began. He kept opening the buttons. She kept closing them.
They moved across the room chasing each other, laughing. Maliha grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it easily. Then suddenly he grabbed her heavy dupatta from the chair and tossed it around her shoulders and head, wrapping her clumsily in it. She struggled instantly.

“I’m stuck in this,” she mumbled, trying to free herself.

Laughing, Haseeb walked toward her and untangled the fabric carefully. When the dupatta finally slipped away, her face appeared in front of him.

Bright.
Smiling.
Laughing.

Exactly what he wanted to see. His laughter softened. His hands gently cupped her face. His eyes simply gazed at her.

“I’m jealous,” he said quietly.

“Of those who had your heart filled with.”
Maliha looked straight into his eyes.

“There’s no one.”
He frowned slightly.

“It’s empty,” she whispered.

“Broken… shaken… filled with darkness.”
Her voice softened.

“There’s no love left in this heart.”
Haseeb didn’t move away.

Instead he smiled faintly.
“Even if it’s broken,” he said softly.
“Even if it’s shaken…”
“It’s still mine.”

His thumb brushed gently against her cheek.
“I’ll fill it with my love one day.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
After that he pulled her into a tight hug.
Maliha melted into his arms. She didn’t even realize when her hands slowly wrapped around him too.
His warmth.
His scent.
His quiet care.

Everything about it felt strangely comforting.
Safe. She inhaled softly, resting against him.
And unknowingly… A small smile appeared on her lips. Because slowly, without even realizing it, She was getting used to him.
His presence.
His care.
His love.
And the way his arms always seemed to feel like home.

--------

The wedding hall was already filled with guests when Aarib and Roshaane entered together.
Soft chatter and warm lights surrounded the place, yet the two of them walked in silence side by side. The drive from home to the hall had been just the same, quiet, heavy, and wrapped in unspoken thoughts. After what had happened between them earlier, neither of them had gathered the courage to break the silence.
Both were hesitant… unsure of what to say.

“Roshaane!”

Zainab’s cheerful voice rose above the crowd as soon as she spotted her. Several guests turned toward the entrance, smiling at the couple as they walked in. Roshaane hurried forward to reach Zainab, but her steps faltered slightly because of the heels she was wearing.

“Careful.”

Aarib reached her just in time, his hand gently gripping her arm to steady her.

“I’m… fine,” she murmured, looking up at him.

Their eyes met. For a moment neither moved.
Then Roshaane was the first to look away, the nervousness clearly visible on her face.

“I’ll be around,” Aarib whispered softly near her ear. “Don’t get lost in the crowd.”

His sudden closeness startled her.
She looked at him again, and this time she noticed the clear smirk on his face, the faint, teasing curve of his lips and the way his eyes seemed to say far more than his words.Her heart skipped. Immediately she turned away and walked ahead, pressing a hand lightly over her racing heart. But the blush on her cheeks refused to hide. She reached Zainab, who quickly held her arm and led her toward the bride’s room. Once inside, Roshaane closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then another.
Trying to calm herself, she rubbed her cheeks gently, hoping to lessen the warmth spreading across them. Yet the blush refused to fade.

“So this is what love looks like.”

Zainab’s teasing voice made her open her eyes instantly. Zainab was watching her with a mischievous smile. She even winked. Roshaane slapped her arm lightly.

“Shut up.”

Zainab laughed softly while Roshaane moved toward the bride, trying to compose herself.
She stayed in the room for a while, helping with small things and chatting quietly. Meanwhile outside, Aarib stood with Hikmat near the entrance, greeting guests as they arrived.
But every now and then his gaze wandered through the hall…
Searching.
Looking for her.

As the hall slowly filled and the ceremony time approached, a soft announcement was made.
Soon, the bride and groom walked out together, stepping toward the stage where they would take their vows.
The hall fell quieter as everyone turned their attention toward them.

The vows were completed, congratulations exchanged, and soon the announcement for dinner echoed through the hall. The guests slowly moved toward the buffet area, the soft hum of conversations filling the air as the formal ceremony melted into a relaxed gathering.
Roshaane stepped out of the bride’s room with Zainab, adjusting her saree over her shoulder. The hall looked brighter now, lively with laughter and movement. People gathered in small groups, greeting each other, plates in their hands.
But despite the crowd around her, Roshaane felt strangely aware of one presence.

She knew he was somewhere nearby.
Her eyes drifted across the hall unconsciously only to quickly look away the moment they met his. Aarib stood a short distance away near one of the pillars, speaking briefly to Hikmat. Yet his attention wasn’t fully there. Every few moments his gaze wandered, searching through the crowd until it found her again. And each time it did, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

Roshaane pretended to focus on the decorations near the stage, then on the guests passing by, then on absolutely nothing in particular. Her fingers nervously twisted. She felt his presence even before he came to stand beside her.
Not too close.
Yet close enough.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

The sounds of the hall surrounded them, clinking cutlery, soft laughter, distant music but between them there was only a quiet stillness.

“You haven’t eaten yet,” Aarib said after a moment, his voice calm.

Roshaane shook her head lightly, still not looking at him.
“I will.”

Her eyes moved toward the buffet tables, then toward the stage, then briefly toward the floor. Anywhere except his face.
He noticed.

The smile in his eyes deepened slightly.
“You’ll faint at this rate,” he said quietly.

“I’m fine.”

Her voice was soft, almost defensive, though she still avoided his gaze.

A brief silence followed. Aarib looked at her properly now. The way the warm lights reflected in her hair… the slight nervousness in her posture… the way she kept touching her saree as if it could hide the color rising on her cheeks.
His eyes lingered on her longer than they should have.
Roshaane felt it.
Her heartbeat picked up again.

She finally glanced at him just for a second. And immediately looked away. But that single moment was enough for him. Aarib’s lips curved into a quiet smile.

“You’re still nervous,” he murmured, almost to himself.

She inhaled softly, pretending not to hear.
Guests walked past them, laughing and talking, but neither of them moved. They simply stood there close, quiet, wrapped in a strange hesitation neither of them knew how to break.

After a moment Roshaane finally turned slightly.
“I should… go help Zainab.”

Aarib nodded, though his eyes remained on her.
“Hmm.”

She took a small step away.
Then another.
But before she disappeared into the crowd, she felt his gaze follow her. And somehow that made her heart beat even faster than before. Behind her, Aarib watched her leave, the same quiet smile still resting on his lips as if her nervousness was a secret he had already begun to cherish.

-------

Author's note.

Assalam-o-Alaikum readers!
How are you all?

Another update for you. You all seem to be enjoying the story, so I’m trying to write as quickly as possible to bring you new updates soon.

Which story are you liking the most these days? Aarib is finally stepping out of his serious zone, and Haseeb is proving to be so understanding. Both couples are slowly moving closer to their happiness. But don’t get too comfortable yet many twists and turns are still waiting for them.

Honestly, I first thought this story would end in around 30 chapters. But you all know how it is with me once I start writing, I can’t stop at just a few lines. The emotions grow deeper, the thoughts expand, and the story asks to be told in a fuller way. So now I feel it might go up to 40 chapters… or maybe even more. Let’s see where the journey takes us.

For now, just keep reading and enjoying the story until the day I finally put a full stop to it.

Do share your thoughts in the comments, and don’t forget to vote and share.

I’ll be back tomorrow, InshaAllah.

With love,
Your Author