26th Oct, 2023

"No way!" Kinza gasped, her eyes wide with excitement and disbelief. "That's such a wonderful news!"

Arham chuckled at her expression while her mother smiled warmly. "I still remember how you used to run around the house in your underwear, trying to escape your meals," she said, clearly relishing the memory.

Kinza let out a dramatic gasp and leaned forward. "Okay, spill! Who's the lucky girl? How did you meet? Have you talked to her yet? What was your first meeting like?" She fired the questions like bullets, all in one breath.

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Arham laughed. "I'll tell you everything. Just breathe first."

Arham was Kinza's phuppo's son-five years older but more of a co-conspirator than a cousin. Their bond had always been special. Along with Sharmin, Arham's younger sister who was Kinza's age, the trio had formed a legendary mischief-making team that still haunted family get-togethers.

Kinza's mother loved to tell the story of how, when Kinza was born, she had fallen critically ill. During that time, Phuppo had stepped in, breastfeeding Kinza as though she were her own. Kinza and Sharmin were hospital-born twins in spirit-same age, same hospital, same diaper disasters.

Ah, those chaotic, beautiful days. Where had time flown?

Now Arham-her Arham bhai-was getting married.

SubhanAllah!

"So, her name is Amaira," Arham continued, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly bashful. "We haven't met in person yet, but In Sha Allah, that'll happen soon... after the nikah."

Kinza narrowed her eyes with suspicion. "You sure about that? Your ears are turning red."

He turned even redder.

The teasing had only just begun.

"So Mami, I'm here to take you all with me for the biggest day of my life," Arham announced with dramatic flair. "You're all coming with me."

"But beta, there are still two months to go," Kinza's mother pointed out, her voice laced with practicality. "What will we do there for so long? And your Mama has work. He can't take so many days off."

Arham gave her the classic don't-care shrug. "I'll talk to him."

And when her father returned home later that day, Arham pounced again, cornering him at the dinner table like a man on a mission.

"Arham Sahab, I understand your excitement, but beta, kaam bhi zaroori hai na," Her father said with a teasing smile that made Arham scratch his head in defeat.

"Okay, do one thing," He added. "Take Kinza with you. Your Mami and I will fly out closer to the date."

Kinza's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Yaaay!" she squealed, bouncing in her seat.

"That's a great idea," Her mother nodded. "Kinza will love being there for all the prep."

"Done," Kinza's father said with finality. "I'll book the tickets."

Kinza shot a look at Arham-a devilish, I'm-going-to-torment-you-until-your-wedding-night kind of look. Arham immediately knew: he was doomed.

And thus began the packing extravaganza.

For the next two days, Kinza lived inside her wardrobe. She stuffed clothes into suitcases like she was moving permanently. Half the things she knew she wouldn't wear-but what if? What if there was a haldi-themed pajama party? You never knew.

When she finally zipped the last suitcase shut, she turned to find her wardrobe nearly empty. Grinning toothily, she facepalmed. "Oops. But still taking it all."

Just as she was about to close the closet, something caught her eye.

A packet.

And inside it-the jacket. His jacket. And the ring.

She held the blood-stained jacket and the elegant ring in her hands. "Who were you?" she whispered. "Where did you vanish to?"

The ring shimmered under the light-absolutely stunning. She desperately wanted to keep it, but her conscience, annoyingly persistent, wouldn't let her. It was someone's amanah-a trust. Until she found him again.

She placed the jacket back in the closet, but slipped the ring onto a chain around her neck.

"Maybe someday I'll collide with the mystery man," she muttered, "and then I'll return it."

She paused.

"But how on earth would I even know it's him?" His face had been drenched in blood that night. Not even an AI facial recognition app could help her now.

That night, sleep played hide-and-seek with her. Kinza tossed and turned, replaying the incident in her mind. Her spontaneous decision to sign as someone's wife to save his life-it sounded like a scene from a movie. What had she been thinking?

She glanced at the ring again.

"He probably had someone he loved," she whispered. "That ring was meant for her."

The guilt began to creep in.

"I shouldn't have taken his things," she sighed, eyes heavy.

Eventually, sleep claimed her.

The next morning, she woke with a headache that could rival a hangover. Groggy, she made her way to the kitchen to brew a cup of masala tea, grinding ginger like her life depended on it.

Her mother walked in and raised an eyebrow. "Headache?"

Kinza nodded. "Didn't sleep."

"Too excited to go to London?"

"Super excited!" she grinned, headache momentarily forgotten.

"Let me make the tea," Her mother offered, and Kinza plopped onto a chair like a deflated balloon.

"Where's Dad?"

"He just left," She replied, then asked casually, "He was asking if you returned that man's belongings. Did you?"

Kinza opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Arham strolled into the kitchen. "Returned what?" he asked, raising a brow.

Kinza gave him a dramatic eye-roll. "Nothing," she said, waving it off.

"Parathas, Mami. Please make your famous ones," Arham requested sweetly, his eyes shining like a five-year-old.

Later that day, the headache refused to leave, so Kinza resorted to medicine. While lounging in her room, her eyes kept drifting toward the closet.

Curiosity won.

She retrieved the bag, pulled out the phone, and tried switching it on. Dead battery. She plugged it in and waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Finally, the screen lit up.

Screen lock.

"Why do people do this?!" she groaned. "Could've just called the last dialed number!"

Irritated, she switched it off and tucked it back inside the jacket.

"I'll get it unlocked later," she decided. "Right now, I have a wedding to enjoy."

That thought made her grin.

Visa? Done. Tickets? Almost done.

London, here I come.

Later that evening, while she was still dancing around in excitement, her father called her into his study.

Serious Baba Face™ was on.

"Kinza," he said, "Tell me the truth about Shahmeer."

She sighed, shoulders slumping. "He's in a mess, Dad. He's a good man, but someone's out for revenge and he doesn't even know why. Those threat letters? Gave me actual chills."

"What? That's... absurd!" He said, stunned.

"He doesn't want to drag anyone else into his problems. He said it's too dangerous."

"But-"

"Dad," she interrupted softly, her eyes glistening, "let's not talk about it anymore, please?"

He paused, then nodded. "Fine. Let it go. Here, your tickets are done."

Grinning, she hugged him tight. "You and Maa are the best. May Allah grant you good health and protect you always. Ameen."

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "I don't need to ask if you've packed, do I?"

She looked up at him with a sheepish grin.

"Knew it," he laughed. "You've probably packed the whole wardrobe."

"Guilty!" she chirped.

Just then, her mother knocked and entered. "So? How's the new phone?"

"What phone?" Kinza blinked in confusion.

"Oh, right! I forgot," Her father smiled, handing her a box. "Your new phone."

She squealed. Hugged him. Hugged ger mother. Hugged the box.

"Don't lose this one," Her mother warned with a teasing smile.

After dinner, Kinza tried to sleep.

Keyword: tried.

She twisted. Turned. Fluffed her pillow. Counted sheep. Recounted wedding events she hadn't attended yet.

When morning came, she looked like a panda-dark circles and all.

Goggles became her savior.

Thankfully, the 10-hour flight to London let her nap like a tranquilized koala, waking only for meals.

When Arham finally nudged her awake, they were descending.

Drool clung to her lip. She wiped it discreetly and looked out the window.

London. The land of charming accents, historical buildings, and a thousand new memories waiting to be made.

It was a new day. A new chapter. A new beginning.

And more than anything else-

It was time for the wedding.

Assalamualaikum!

Long time no see. I know I am taking so long to update but I have a child now (Yes Alhamdulillah I was blessed with a baby girl)

I'm planning on being frequent now but I don't know if I will.

How was the chap?? Your thoughts on upcoming events?

Just leave a few encouraging words. It makes me happy.

Until next time....ciao!