The marriage hall shone with soft golden lights. Crystal chandeliers glowed above, and fairy lights were wrapped around the pillars, making the whole place look magical. The gentle noise of guests, the sound of silk and chiffon, and soft music in the background created a warm and happy atmosphere.
Outside, media cameras kept flashing again and again But inside the family section, everything felt different.

Quiet.
Private.

Only close family members were there, sharing the special moment. On the stage, Aabia and Shahmir sat side by side.
Radiant.
Composed.

And glowing with a happiness that needed no words.
Today, they were to be united. And Shahmir would claim her with pride, with honor, in front of everyone. Aabia’s eyes sparkled beneath the soft lights, her smile gentle yet full of life. At one corner, Aarham stood beside Mehak. His arm wrapped securely around her, pulling her close as both of them watched the couple on stage.
A soft smile played on his lips.

“We had a beautiful wedding too,” he said quietly, glancing at her.

Mehak smiled instantly, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Of course,” she replied softly. “My king is the best.”

He chuckled lightly at her words, his hold around her tightening just a little.

“I wish to relive those moments again.”
She looked up at him, surprised, then giggled.

“As you say,” she teased, pressing a soft kiss to his hand.
He smiled. And together, they turned their gaze back toward the stage where love was beginning all over again.

On the other side, Shazam stood beside Mahi.
Quiet.
Observing.
Then slowly, Almost hesitantly, his fingers reached for hers. The moment their hands touched, she startled slightly.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, glancing around nervously as she tried to free her hand.

He only smiled.
“Why are you scared?” he murmured. “I’m holding my wife’s hand.”

She looked at him, her expression softening despite herself.

“You’re impossible,” she said, looking away shyly.

“And you’re shy,” he replied, tightening his hold just a little.

Her lips curved into a small smile.

“I can’t wait for us to have this big day like this,” Shazam added, his voice filled with quiet excitement.

She laughed softly, her cheeks flushing.
Nearby, Roshaane stood beside Aarib.
Close. Yet still carrying that familiar, delicate distance between them. Both watched the stage silently.
Smiling. Taking in the beauty of the moment.
Aarib’s gaze shifted briefly. From the stage…
To her. The soft glow of lights reflected in her eyes.
The faint smile resting on her lips. Something about her Calm, Content. And his own lips curved slightly in response.

Without a word.

Across the hall, Zeeniya and Jahan stood together. Their eyes moved across the room, watching their children.
Each one of them.
Settled.
Smiling.
Living their lives.

A quiet satisfaction settled in their hearts.
A prayer answered.
A journey completed.

But then, Jahan’s gaze paused. At a corner of the hall.
Sameer stood there.
Alone.
Silent.
His eyes weren’t on the stage. They were searching, For someone who wasn’t there. For something he had lost long ago. The contrast was sharp where the hall overflowed with love and celebration, there, in that quiet corner, stood a loneliness no one spoke of. Zeeniya followed Jahan’s gaze. Her smile faded slightly.
And for a moment, Amidst all the happiness, A silent ache lingered in the air.

On the stage, the ceremony began. Words of union.
Promises of forever. And as Aabia and Shahmir looked at each other, the world around them blurred.
Because in that moment, nothing mattered more than the life they were about to begin.
Together.
-------
The love was slowly blooming between both couples.
While Aarib and Roshaane were growing closer amidst the wedding festivities, on the other side, Haseeb’s presence… his touch… and the depth of his gaze had begun to affect Maliha in ways she didn’t understand.
Unknowingly, she had started waiting for him.
Unknowingly, her heart had begun to long for his presence.

Haseeb and Mr. Isham had already left for the office, but Maliha remained stuck in the memories of that morning… their closeness… the feelings his kisses had awakened within her. She stayed absent-minded the entire day, getting lost in those moments again and again.

“Maliha, are you okay?” Sana Isham asked, noticing her distraction.

“I—I’m fine, Khala,” she replied, startled.

But even as she tried to gather herself, her heart betrayed her, each memory sending a soft, sweet ache through her chest. By evening, the house was filled with warmth. Maliha and Mrs. Isham were in the kitchen, preparing something special. The aroma had spread through the house, and both women were laughing, chatting. Saba Farooqi joined them on a video call.
Just then, Haseeb and Mr. Isham arrived home. Their guards remained outside as they stepped in, expecting to be welcomed but today, no one came.

“Where are they?” Mr. Isham asked, placing his bag aside while loosening his tie. Beside him, Haseeb removed his coat, rolling up his sleeves.

Without another word, both walked toward the kitchen and stopped at the entrance. Their women… completely lost in cooking, laughing, gossiping.

“Assalam-o-Alaikum, ladies.”

Both women startled and turned.

“Wa-Alaikum-Salaam. You both came,” Mrs. Sana Isham said warmly.

But in that moment… Haseeb and Maliha’s eyes met.
And she was the first to look down. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, something he didn’t miss.
A faint, knowing smile appeared on his lips.
He knew. She was thinking about those moments too. His gaze settled on her properly now. She wore a soft baby pink chiffon frock, simple, elegant. Her hair fell in loose curls, her makeup light… yet she looked breathtaking.

“Are you women going somewhere?” Mr. Isham asked.

“No,” Mrs. Isham replied casually. “We got ready for our husbands.”
Maliha’s eyes widened slightly.

She glanced at Mrs. Isham… then at Haseeb who raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
Her heart skipped. She shook her head subtly as if denying something unspoken but his smile only deepened.

“You both go freshen up. We’ll serve tea and snacks, then dinner,” Mrs. Isham said.

But neither of them moved. Instead, Mr. Isham took his wife’s hand and pulled her gently.

“I need my wife for a few minutes.”
She giggled, following him.

Silence fell in the kitchen. Maliha turned back to the stove, pretending to focus on the chicken she was cooking. But she could feel it, his gaze.
On her.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?” she wondered, her heartbeat quickening.

Before she could turn, She froze. He was suddenly behind her.
Close.
Too close.
His arms caged her in.

Her breath hitched as she felt him near… his breath brushing against her shoulder.

“Why is my Maliha so nervous… that she can’t even look at me?” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear, teasing her earring.

“I… I’m not…” she managed, her voice trembling.

In one swift motion, he turned her toward him.
His hands settled around her waist.
“You look beautiful.”

Her lips curved into a smile. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Shyness… nervousness… something deeper, it all overwhelmed her and perhaps for the first time, he chose not to tease her further. Stepping back slowly, he left the kitchen without another word.
Leaving her…
More restless than before.

“What happened to him…?” she thought, her heart suddenly uneasy.

During tea… and later at dinner… Haseeb didn’t tease her. Didn’t come close. He kept his distance.
Gave her space. But that distance, It bothered her.
In ways,  she couldn’t understand.

“Maliha, eat properly,” he said softly, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She looked at him. He smiled. And continued eating.
But her mind, It stayed tangled in him. Later, the men sat in the lounge discussing important matters while the women joined them with tea, watching TV. But Maliha’s gaze, It  kept drifting back to him.

Again.
And again.

Her heart fluttered every time. She observed him quietly. White shirt. Sleeves folded to his forearms. The top buttons open. His hair slightly messy, falling over his forehead. That stubble along his jaw, Her fingers curled unconsciously.

She looked away, trying to control her heart. Across the room, Haseeb hid his smile. Fully aware of her gaze.

“I’ll go to my room,” Maliha said suddenly, trying to escape… from him… from herself.

Mrs. Sana Isham nodded. She walked away quickly, not daring to look back. But Haseeb’s eyes followed her.
A slow, teasing smile forming.

“You can’t run now…” he murmured to himself.
--------
It was late at night. They had all returned home after Aabia and Shahmir’s wedding. Tired, everyone went to their rooms except Roshaane. She took a bowl of chips and a cold drink and walked out toward the poolside. Slipping off her heels, she dipped her feet into the cold water, shivering slightly before letting out a soft giggle.
The cool night breeze felt calming.

Peaceful.

“Don’t you have any plan to sleep?”
His voice startled her.

She turned and looked at him, then smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Aarib asked, sitting down beside her.

“I’m thinking about something,” she replied, crunching on her chips. He smiled, watching her.

“What?”

He took a chip from the bowl, waiting for her answer.
She looked at him suddenly.

“How do I look?” she asked.
He paused.

Then really looked at her. She was glowing.
Her makeup still soft and fresh… the silk saree wrapped gracefully around her… her earrings and bangles catching the light… and that smile, It made him smile too.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face.

She looked at him for a second, then
“Shouldn’t we remarry too?”

This time, he froze.
Staring at her, as if he hadn’t heard her right.

“What?” he chuckled after a moment, a little surprised.

“Yes, I’m serious. I want a grand wedding… like Aabia aapi,” she said, taking a sip from her drink.

“You…” he started but before he could finish, she turned and looked at him. And he stopped.

There was something in her eyes. Something he couldn’t read. Something he couldn’t name.
They were glistening.

“You never saw me like that,” she said softly. “You never… adored me in my bridal look.”
Her voice trembled.

“You never saw me as your bride… the way a man looks at the woman he loves.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Maybe you still won’t…” she whispered, her gaze dropping. “But I just want to feel… like we’re getting married like a normal couple.” He went quiet.
Completely still.

Then slowly… he looked away. A heavy sigh left his lips as if her words had touched something deep inside him.

“Is it difficult?” she asked, her voice breaking. “To accept me again?”

He lifted his gaze. And this time, his eyes held the same pain.

"No. It won't be this time." He replied  with a small smile.

“But it was hard… at first,” he said quietly. “It really was, Roshaane.” Their eyes met.

And for a moment, everything returned.
The first hurt.
The first love.

The first feelings they never truly understood.

“And you know that,” he continued softly. “We both do.”
He shifted slightly, dipping his feet into the water beside hers. The cold ripples spread between them, Just like the silence that followed.

“Is Maliha still there… in your heart?” she asked softly.
Aarib’s lips curved into a faint, almost tired smile.

"I've given a reply of this question to you already. " He said and looked at her.

“Our hearts don’t belong to each other anymore,” he said calmly. “Not after when she was the first to step back, not after when we’ve both committed to someone else now.”

She shook her head slightly.
“That’s not my answer.”

Silence.
He looked at her then. Really looked at her.
At the hurt in her eyes. At the question she wasn’t just asking with words but with her heart.

“She was my first love…” he paused, searching for the right words, "my everything.”

"Its past now."

The air between them grew heavier.
“But,” he added, lifting his eyes back to hers, “that doesn’t mean she’s where my present is.”

She stayed quiet.
Listening.
Holding onto every word.

“My present…” he continued softly, “…is sitting right in front of me.”

Her eyes filled again, but this time, not just with pain.
With something softer. Something uncertain.

“I won’t lie to you, Roshaane,” he said. “What I felt with her… it was real.”
A pause.

“But what I’m building now...” his voice steadied.
“it's beyond real. Its...magical."

The night breeze passed between them.
Cool.
Gentle.
Carrying away some of the heaviness.

“She was my first love…” he said quietly, his gaze drifting for a moment.
“The one I had dreamed a whole life with.”

He gently took her hand in his. Her fingers trembled.

“But with you, nothing is dream. Everything is real. All feelings, smiles and life,” he continued.

"You're my present and future." He kept saying.

“The one I wait for now… because I can’t sleep without looking at her.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.

But this time, a small, broken smile came with a small laugh.

“Will you ever love me?” she asked quietly, tears falling without sound.
He smiled faintly, his thumbs wiping her tears away.

“Maybe… I’ve already started.”
A soft giggle escaped her through her tears.

“You’re so bad,” she said, lightly pushing him away. “I just asked for a grand wedding and you made me cry this much.”

“Grand wedding, hmm…” he murmured, pretending to think.

Then suddenly, he leaned closer, pulling her gently back toward him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Let’s remarry,” he said softly. “But… let it be simple.”
She looked up at him.

“In a white gown.”
Her eyes widened.

“White gown?”

“We’ll have a Turkish wedding,” he declared.

“But what about my red lehnga? My mehndi and...”

She stopped mid-sentence when he placed his finger gently on her lips.

“See? I told you… my present is more beautiful,” he said with a smile.

And before she could react, he leaned in and placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips. She flushed deeply.
He chuckled.

“You’re making me feel… things I wasn’t ready for,” he admitted, amused by her blushing face.

“Okay, okay… I won’t make you blush again,” he added playfully. “What were we discussing?”

“Why Turkish wedding?” she asked, lowering her gaze.

“Just… to feel something new,” he replied simply.

She turned to look at him. Eyes sparkling with excitement. He raised his hands slightly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a poor man, Roshaane.”

“You are the  owner of restaurants,” she corrected.

“Poor owner,” he said seriously.

She giggled softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

“No excuses,” she declared. “We’ll have both weddings. Both cultures.”

He sighed… but a smile formed anyway.
“As you say.”

And as he held her closer, For the first time,
His heart felt… at ease.
-------
The grand reception of Shahmir and Aabia had been nothing short of beautiful. Dressed in a deep red frock that gracefully reached her ankles, Roshaane returned home with Aarib and the Jahan family, the echoes of laughter and celebration still lingering around them.
Exhaustion soon took over.

Mehak and Aarham quietly retired to their room, too tired to even exchange more than a few words.
Meanwhile, the house didn’t stay quiet for long.
Shazam and Sameer were already bickering over an ice cream bowl and, of course, Roshaane joined them without a second thought.

“I want mango!” she squealed, quickly grabbing the bowl of mango ice cream.

“That’s mine! You know I can't eat strawberries alone. I have to mix them with mango,” Sameer protested, trying to snatch the bowl from her hands.

Within seconds, the trio was running around, chasing each other for their favorite flavors.

“I want all of them all!” Shazam declared, running after Sameer, who had already started devouring the strawberry munch.

“Bhai, stop!” Roshaane said, slightly out of breath.

“Let’s… share,” she finally suggested, trying to bring some peace.

Both of them paused then nodded. Just then, Jahan and Zeeniya entered the hall along with Aarib and Mrs. Ahmad only to witness the three of them completely immersed in their little world. Ice creams, strawberry munch, fruit cakes scattered around, and a PlayStation game running in full swing.

“I won! I won!” Sameer shouted excitedly.

Shazam and Roshaane pouted in unison. Aarib was amazed to see her like this. Her dupatta lay carelessly on the sofa, her heels discarded to the side. Her earrings rested on the table, while the table in front of her was filled with ice creams, cakes, and snacks. Her brothers were no different, jackets thrown around, sleeves folded, shoes lying scattered.
The entire scene was messy.

Lively.
Real.

Aarib, Jahan, and Zeeniya exchanged a glance… then sighed and walked ahead.

“Isn’t it too late for this ice cream and gaming session?” Aarib said.

Roshaane looked at him with a bright smile, still unaware of her parents’ presence.

“You should join us too! Let’s play in teams. I know we’ll win. My lucky charm… my Aarib bey,” she said playfully, almost flirting.

Aarib froze.
Behind her, Shazam and Sameer chuckled.

“Roshaane, it’s time to sleep,” he said, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Bhai, ask him to play with us,” she insisted.
He shook his head.

Then suddenly...
“Sen seviyorum.”

She said it so casually… yet it hit him like a shock.
Aarib stiffened. His eyes immediately flicked toward her parents… Then toward her brothers who were now trying to figure out what she had just said.

“If you don’t want to translate what I said… then come play,” she added with a giggle.

Zeeniya turned her face slightly, hiding her smile.
Because right in front of her, Aarib looked completely helpless in front of her daughter. Jahan watched quietly. He didn’t interrupt. He simply observed… waiting to see how Aarib would handle her.

“Should I say it again?” Roshaane asked innocently.

Aarib’s eyes widened.

But before he could stop her....
“Sen seviyorum, Aarib bey!”

She shouted it this time, standing on the sofa with her arms spread wide. Aarib immediately grabbed her wrist and pulled her down.

“Sit,” he muttered under his breath.

Then, lowering his voice, he added, “Can you… translate that for them?” He subtly pointed toward her parents.

Roshaane followed his gesture and froze.
Without thinking, she quickly hid her face against his chest for a brief second… then pulled back, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“Now say it again,” Aarib teased softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his lips curving into a smile he was trying hard to hide.

“Someone tell us the meaning,” Shazam said mischievously.

“Huh...?!” Roshaane startled when Zeeniya stepped forward.

“What were you saying?” Zeeniya asked, her expression controlled… but firm.

“N-Nothing, Mom… I was just saying… good night, everyone,” Roshaane rushed out.

She stepped down from the sofa but her foot slipped slightly. Before she could fall, Aarib caught her instantly, steadying her in place

"Careful." He said still holding her.

Jahan was noticing everything. His eyes stayed on them… on him. The way Aarib was careful with her.
The way he picked up her dupatta unconsciously and handed it to her without a word. And his daughter…
So foolishly, so purely in love, still holding onto his coat sleeve like it was her right.

“She translated correctly?” Zeeniya asked.
Aarib glanced at Roshaane.

Her pleading, embarrassed eyes met his, And he hid his smile.

“Yes… she’s right.”

He bent slightly, picked up her earrings, then gently took her hand.

“Good night, everyone.”

And without waiting, he led her away.
Roshaane followed quickly, almost rushing. As if trying to escape the weight of her own confession.
The moment they left, Jahan and Zeeniya couldn’t hold back their laughter anymore, while Sameer and Shazam joined them.

“What did she actually say?” Zeeniya asked again, still smiling.

“She said, ‘I love you, Aarib bey,’” Shazam revealed casually.
Laughter filled the room once more.

“How do you know?” Sameer asked, surprised.
Shazam shrugged lightly.

“My Mahi knows how to say ‘I love you’ in many languages…”

And just like that silence fell. All eyes turned toward him.
Shazam froze. Realizing what he had just said.

“I… I’m going to sleep,” he muttered quickly and almost rushed away from there. Sameer chuckled softly, but Zeeniya noticed it.
That flicker in his eyes.
That sadness he tried to hide.

“Can’t you come back?” she called gently.

He walked toward them, sat down in front of his parents, took their hands in his… kissed them… and then rested his head against his father’s knee.

“I’m trying to bring myself back,” he said quietly.
“I will… for both of you.”

Jahan and Zeeniya exchanged a glance, then smiled.
A silent prayer passing between them.

-------
The door clicked softly behind them, and suddenly the world felt quieter like the house had shrunk to just the two of them. Roshaane leaned against the door, cheeks still flushed pink from her bold confession in the hall. Her fingers nervously twisted the edge of her frock, her heart hammering in her chest.

Aarib stood a few steps away, casually leaning against the wall, but his eyes were fixed on her. That little smirk tugging at his lips made her stomach flip.

“W…what?” she asked, straightening herself and tugging her hair behind her ear, still avoiding his gaze.

“I’m thinking about your performance,” he said, arms folded across his chest.

“What performance?” she asked, moving toward the dressing table.

“The performance of Seniseviyorum,” he said, stepping closer behind her. She jumped, startled by his sudden presence.

“That… I… I was just teasing you,” she managed, nervously glancing at him.

"You were always this crazy or its just me finding you crazy" He asked teasing her.

“I’m going to change,” she said, attempting to escape his gaze.

But before she could turn, he caught her wrist and gently pulled her back. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. She gasped at the sudden closeness.

“You can’t escape now,” he said, his eyes speaking all the words he hadn’t.

Her gaze dropped, heart racing. “Aarib… I… I’m sleepy,” she murmured, though she didn’t move away.

“Look at me,” he whispered, tilting her face with his hand. His fingers traced along her jaw, and the softness of her skin made her close her eyes for a brief second.
When her eyes met his again, she shivered. The room seemed to darken around them. Her fingers clenched at his shirt as she instinctively leaned closer.

“What happened? Why did the lights go?” she asked, though his own silence said it all. Her closeness, her scent, the warmth of her body against him, it left him speechless.

“Aarib …” she whispered, calling his name, but before she could say more, he pulled her into a tight hug, her warmth pressing against his chest.

“Aarib…” she murmured again, but he kept his eyes closed, savoring the moment, her heartbeat against his own.

“You’re making me feel… strange, Roshaane,” he whispered in her ear.

“I’ve never felt this way… the way my heart feels when you’re close,” he continued, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her own eyes fluttered closed at his touch.

They seemed lost. Trying to understand the feelings they felt in each other’s embrace. Their breaths started to get heavy as they held each other tightly. But before they could get lost any further in each other, the lights flickered back on, pulling them gently into reality.

Slowlu, hestinantly they pulled back, embaressed. They parted, neither daring to meet the other’s eyes.
The line between them had not yet been crossed. Both of them still had to understand the depth and meaning of these new, powerful feelings stirring between them.
---------

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

I know I’m a bit late and only bringing one chapter this time. I’ve been quite busy lately since I’ve started a job, and with all the work at home, I couldn’t find the time to write. I hope you understand.

Please stick with me, my lovely readers. I truly appreciate your support. I’ll be back soon with two updates of Fated Road, InshaAllah. 💛