(Chapter 39)
Nazli entered the room, her face blazing with fury.
"Taimur, I don't know how long your family members will continue treating me like an outsider. Do I deserve to be treated like this? To hear such big news in this way? Am I here only to be criticized by your mother? Is this the promise you gave me before marriage?" Nazli spat, clenching her fists in anger. She hadn't expected this. She had promised Leena to get her married to Salaar.

"Nazli, nobody was aware of this. It happened all of a sudden. I, myself, heard it as news. Believe me," Taimur tried to pacify her, but his explanation only ignited her fury further.

"Taimur, when will you understand? Your parents prefer Salaar much more than you. They've completely stifled your chances of surpassing him. The day will come soon when Salaar becomes the CEO of Malik Industrial Estate, and you'll merely be a subordinate, obeying his orders," Nazli said bitterly, trying to drive a wedge between him and his family, especially Salaar.

"So what, Nazli, if Salaar becomes the CEO? Everybody knows he's far more capable of that position. I've told you many times before, I've never aspired to defeat Salaar. He's my brother, not my competitor," Taimur clarified firmly. He despised it when Nazli tried to plant doubts in his mind against his family.

"Actually, I must be stupid to have married a stupid man like you, someone who doesn't even realize that his family considers him unworthy of doing anything!" Nazli sneered at him with disdain.

"They consider me stupid, or is it you who does? I told you before marriage that I never hope for things I don't deserve. And why are you complaining now? Haven't I given you everything you ever demanded? A big house, a factory as your property, pocket money more than you wished for, a driver, a brand-new car. You even have more servants in your portion of the house than all of Malik Villas combined. And above all, my love for you. Even as the mother of my child, you seem least interested in it. So please, let me be at peace, I want to enjoy my brother's wedding," Taimur retorted, finally letting out his pent-up feelings.

"Your brother's happiness, huh? And what about my sister's happiness? Do you even know what she'll go through hearing about Salaar's wedding with someone else?" Nazli shot back, glaring at Taimur.

"It's good that you brought this up. I've been meaning to discuss this with you. That day in the hospital, I saw what she did, leaving Salaar and me in an awkward position before your parents. Nazli, I will never let Salaar be exploited by you or your sister into doing something he doesn't want to do, just because you're the daughter-in-law of Malik Villas. I'm warning you, Nazli, stay away from interfering in Salaar's life, or it will have a deep impact on our relationship."

Taimur uttered his words sternly, then stormed out of the room, leaving Nazli stunned by his new demeanor.

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Zarmeena locked herself in her room after the Nikkah. Dadi and Zareena were both worried about her. Though Sajid, Sajida, and Ahmed tried one by one to get her out of the room, they failed and eventually left her to herself, assuming she must be tired and exhausted, unaware of what was truly going on inside.

She lay on her bed, her eyes open, still wearing her fancy clothes. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling, but while her body appeared calm, her mind was anything but tranquil. She was caught in a whirlpool of questions for which she had no answers. Was this her destiny, to end up with a very rich man like Salaar Malik and sit at his home enjoying the benefits of being a wealthy man's wife? Would she surrender to this fate? She felt as though she had suddenly landed at the top without experiencing the thrill and joy of climbing each and every step. Her mind wandered, occupied with the search for answers to unclear questions, when she heard a soft knock on the door again, signaling her mother's presence.

Finally, she rose from the bed and opened the door. Zareena's gaze fell upon her daughter's disheveled condition. She knew that convincing Zarmeena was one of the most difficult tasks in the world. Quietly, she perched beside her on the bed.

Both waited for the other to speak first. Finally, Zarmeena sighed and started.
"Amma, why did Dadi play with my life? Why did she put such a huge cross on my dreams? How does she expect me to accept all this? She knew I could never dare go against her because of her deteriorating health, and she exploited that!" Zarmeena's voice trembled with the intensity of her words. Tears began to make their way down her cheeks, leaving black streaks on her spoiled makeup.

Zareena, realizing her dismay and feeling her pain, silently put her arms around Zarmeena, pulling her closer.
Yasmeen Dadi never imposed her decisions on them before. How could she take such a drastic step? How will we face Majida and Fareed? She know Majida will never let us live in peace when she finds out, Zareena was confused of her wandering thoughts.

"Zarmeena, I know it's very hard for you to accept. But we have to. Families are not bound by blood alone; they also require sacrifices for each other. There must be a very strong reason behind Dadi's sudden decision," Zareena said, her tone explanatory, though she doubted it would satisfy Zarmeena.

"Mom, yes, sacrifice. Dadi sacrificed my happiness, my dreams, and my life for her friend whom she met after a very, very long time. Sorry, I won't accept this. I won't accept this marriage and that Salaar Malik as my husband. He mistook my friendship. No, Amma, never." She emphasized each word with a coarse tone, fully expressing her feelings.

"Zaro," Zareena called out with dismay.

"Sorry, Amma. I signed the Nikkah papers out of respect for Dadi's wish. Please don't expect more than that from me," Zarmeena said sternly, clearly expressing her rejection of the burden this Nikkah had placed on her shoulders.

"Zaro, your Rukhsati will be held on Saturday," Zareena said, her words delivering the final blow to Zarmeena's existence. Zarmeena turned and gazed at her mother, stunned. An agonizing smirk touched her face.

"When you've slaughtered me, does it even matter when the funeral is held or where I am buried?"

She placed the Kundan jewelry set she wore for the function in Zareena's hands and entered the washroom to remove the last remnants of her Nikkah, the dress and makeup, leaving Zareena with no room to speak.

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When Salaar woke up, he felt a strange, soothing sensation, like the silence and relief one feels after a strong thunderstorm. His muscles were relaxed, as if released from a burden that had been crushing his soul.

Did I really get out of this? Out of those sly, tormenting thoughts that I’d lose her forever? Has God truly shown His mercy upon me? he wondered. I haven’t even done anything to deserve such mercy.

His mind was tangled in these thoughts when his gaze fell on two dozing bodies in his room. One was sprawled on the couch,'Fahad' and the other, Jawad, was sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

“What are you two jerks doing in my room? Weren’t you sleeping in the guest room? That’s where I remember you being the last time!” Salaar shouted without bothering that they were still asleep.

“Oh man, take a chill pill. It was his idea.” Fahad sat up drowsily, rubbing his groggy eyes, and pointed at Jawad.

“Jawad! Jawad!” Fahad called out, but Jawad was in such a deep slumber that he didn’t respond. So Fahad grabbed a cushion and threw it at him.

“What is it, you lazy lizard? Let me sleep! I barely got any rest last night!” Jawad mumbled as he hugged that cushion and closed his eyes again.

“You didn’t sleep? That’s a joke! I was the one who didn’t sleep because of your dreadful snoring,” Fahad retorted mockingly.

“You just look at me! How could anyone possibly sleep in this tent-like outfit?” Jawad stood up on the mattress, hands on his waist. Both Salaar and Fahad burst into laughter. Jawad was wearing Salaar’s tracksuit, which was at least twice his size. The sleeves hung loosely on both sides, flapping comically.

“All night, I was searching for my body in these tracks, like the police searching for a criminal,” Jawad quipped, rolling up the sleeves before squatting near Fahad on the couch.

“I knew Salaar only has loose tracksuits at home, which is why I didn’t bother changing into his clothes. Look at you it’s like a jackel wearing an elephant’s costume,” Fahad chuckled, still amused by Jawad’s outfit.

“Why didn’t you sleep in the guest room? I told Zubair to settle you there,” Salaar yawned, squatting on his bed and slipping into his slippers. Jawad, in the meantime, snapped a picture of Salaar with his phone.

“I’m going to upload this on the university’s Instagram page, announcing your nikkah news! Caption: ‘The handsome hunk of the university, Salaar Malik, is taken!’ After seeing this well-dressed version of you, no girl will grieve your nikkah,” Jawad said excitedly, anticipating some attention from campus girls.

“Don’t you dare, or whatever chance you have with girls will vanish completely! Girls these days are crazy about such looks. And you...forget about it. Just find yourself a decent job and marry the girl your mom chooses for you. That’s what I’ll be doing,” Fahad declared, crushing Jawad’s expectations of having a girlfriend.

“Why should you look for someone else? I’ve already selected the perfect match for you, Sajida. Remember her?” Jawad teased, pulling Fahad’s leg.

“Haha, she’s better for you! You two even look alike,” Fahad shot back, laughing.

“Exactly! We’re like siblings but you are a perfect match. Black vs. white!” Jawad retorted, dodging Fahad’s attempts to get back at him.

“Alright, you two, just leave my room now! And Jawad, please change those clothes, you look ridiculous,” Salaar exclaimed, clearly annoyed by their conversation.

“Yeah, we know no one has ever stayed this long in your room except for Zubair. But soon, your hurricane wife will destroy its peace,” Fahad joked, pretending to sound ominous.

“Sir Fahad, Sir Jawad, your breakfast is ready. And Sir Jawad, your clothes are pressed and in the guest room,” Zubair announced with professional politeness.

“‘Sir’...?” Jawad let out a stunned expression“Zubair, my frail shoulders can’t bear the burden of that word. Just call me Jawad, please,” he said dramatically, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sir Salaar, everyone is waiting for you” Zubair was interrupted as Taimur entered the room and embraced Salaar tightly.

“Oh, Salaar, my little brother! I can’t tell you how happy I am for you,” Taimur said warmly, still holding him. His words brought immense relief to Salaar, who had feared that his elder brother, who loved him dearly, might be upset because of Leena, his sister-in-law.

“My little brother is a married man now,” Taimur said with a happy smile, ruffling Salaar’s hair. Salaar gave him an angry look but hugged him again, silently thanking God for his brother’s unwavering love and support.