Prologue

The rhythmic clapping of qawwali singers filled the air, their soulful voices echoing through and weaving around the chaos in Isahaq's mind. The music, once slow and melodious, picked up an intensity that seemed to match Isahaq’s frantic heartbeat. He charged through the corridor like a madman, oblivious to the grandeur around him.

The sprawling poolside wedding hall was a vision of opulence: fairy lights crisscrossed overhead like a glowing, makeshift sky, their warm hues casting a magical glow on everything below. The navy pool in the center sparkled, its surface scattered with delicate flowers that floated lazily, creating an almost dreamlike contrast to the tension boiling in his chest.

Crystal chandeliers sparkled above, and gold-accented pillars framed the scene, but he didn’t have the luxury of pausing to admire the lavish decor. His mind was consumed by one thought, one name: Maha.

His eyes barely registered the towering floral arches framing the entrance, or the intricate gold and white drapes cascading from the ceiling. The soft glow of lanterns lining the pool’s edge and the sound of laughter mingling with the qawwali only added to his growing sense of urgency. His heart raced faster than the tempo of the tabla in the background.

Amidst the excited, beaming faces standing all around, his one was a sharp contrast of pure worry and apprehension.

“Move, move, move,” he muttered under his breath, narrowly avoiding colliding with a guest who turned just in time to glare at him. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the unsuspecting waiter he slammed into.

The clatter of the thankfully empty tray hitting the marble floor made him wince, but he didn’t stop to apologize, forgetting all his usual manners amidst the storm raging inside his heart.

From somewhere behind, Zamar’s voice rang out: “So sorry, bhai! My bro’s in a life-or-death situation. Lemme help you with the tray.”

The brief exchange barely registered in his mind, too focused on the task at hand. Isahaq’s palms were clammy, his chest heaving. His hands trembled as he pushed forward, his hoodie damp with sweat from a mix of anxiety and exertion.

Blurred faces turned to gape at him—some in confusion, others in outright judgment at the glaring contrast his outfit and demeanor was compared to the dazzling Desi ensemble around him—but he couldn’t care less. Strangers threw disapproving side-eyes at the man running through the festivities dressed in black sweatpants and a hoodie, wildly out of place in the sea of embroidered kurtas and sherwanis.

Dodging people left and right, Isahaq kept moving forward, eyes scouring every face only to be met with disappointment.

A little kid followed him around, asking something along the lines of if he was a ninja while a nosy auntie yelled from the side,
“Beta, is this how you dress for a wedding?”

Once again Zamar came to the rescue, sprinting close behind and replied on Isahaq's behalf, “He's not here for fashion advice aunty!”

Another woman let her own opinion known, “And what's with the running? Is he here for a marathon or to steal something! This is a wedding not an action movie.”

“Who complains about free entertainment? Just have jalebis and mind your business aunty.” Zamar shot back but he immediately scrambled away when he noticed the lady’s sharp kohl rimmed eyes glaring at him.

“Beta, the biryani isn't served yet, slow down.” An elderly lady in a wheelchair called out towards them and then turned to whisper to the woman standing beside her, “No one runs like this except for the biryani.”

Isahaq ignored everyone, trying to navigate his body through the crowd of guests shooting him suspicious weary glances.

Meanwhile Zamar pushed forward, struggling to keep up with Isahaq's urgent pace. As they wove through the crowd, he kept apologizing for their sudden chaotic entry amidst the celebration. "He’s usually the nicest guy in the room,” Zamar explained to anyone who’d listen. “But today, his life’s on the line.”

Zamar noticed a few decked up teenage girls ogling at him from the side and sighed, “Not now ladies, my brother is on a mission!” Then he jogged towards Isahaq's side only for the latter to break into another sprint, zigzagging through the sea of finely dressed people.

The qawwali’s tempo surged up the pace, their clapping growing louder, matching the erratic rhythm of his heart and his growing panic. Isahaq scanned the hall desperately, his gaze flitting from the grand stage at one end to the clusters of laughing guests near the pool. Where was she?

The joyful music and the glamorous decor mixed in with hearty chuckles bubbling through the air seemed to be mocking him, telling him it was all over.

His eyes darted across the hall, skipping over the towering floral centerpieces and the sparkling stage where the performers were singing with renewed fervor. No sign of her. His heart sank. Was he too late?

A familiar face pulled his gaze—Maha’s Nanu (grandma). The elderly woman stood elegantly. Radiantly wrapped in a green and gold saree, her wrists stacked with jingling gold bangles as she gestured animatedly with a guest. Her face lit up in laughter, but then her eyes locked on Isahaq.

She froze, laughter stilled, and her expression shifted to one of shock, wide eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets in disbelief. Her mouth fell slightly agape before her lips twitched into what looked suspiciously like a smirk.

He should’ve gone over to greet her, offered a quick salaam, something—but his focus wouldn’t budge, legs moving on their own as time raced past. His eyes scanned the crowd again, his desperation mounting. And then his breath hitched when he saw her.

Maha.

At the far end of the pool, she walked gracefully, her silver embroidered sharara shimmering under the fairy lights.The jewelry resting on her neck and wrists sparkled with every step, reflecting off the light from the surroundings. For a moment, the rest of the world faded into the background—the music, the people, everything. It was just her.

His chest tightened. Was it too late? He forced his legs to move, pushing past guests with renewed urgency.  He surged forward, dodging clusters of guests and nearly tripping over a pair of kids chasing each other.

“Maha!” he called out, his voice rising above the clamor and breaking through the chaotic hum of the hall.

She turned.

And when her gaze met his, she froze as if she’d seen a ghost. Her lips parted, but no words came out. The shock was written all over her face—widened eyes, a slight falter in her step.

“Maha...” He stopped a few feet away, his hands trembling, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. The tension in the air was suffocating.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved. The weight of unresolved emotions hung between them,

They stood there, separated by only a few feet, but the distance between them felt insurmountable, filling the space with unspoken words.

Maha thought she was hallucinating. She must have officially lost it—gone completely crazy and daydreaming.

He stood there, right in front of her, and yet it felt impossible. His shoulders looked broader, his frame a bit taller, and there was a faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, though he was otherwise clean-shaven.

His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and his eyes were clouded with disbelief. Every line of his face carried tension—his furrowed brows and tight jaw spoke of worry, almost fear.

For a moment, Maha forgot her shock and found herself worrying about him instead. Was he okay? How could he be truly here? She blinked again, trying to convince herself this wasn’t some cruel trick of her imagination.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I wish I could have said this under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I’m too late.”

Maha’s breath hitched, her confusion growing. She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words. The disbelief in her eyes quickly turned to something sharper—shock and then pure confusion

“What are you even saying?” she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper, clouded with layers of surprise and bafflement.

He took a step closer, saying something else that turned her whole world upside down. Words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and something else—something deeper.

Words were exchanged—hurried, fragmented, the kind that could never encompass everything they had left unsaid and layered with emotions too deep to unravel. Her expression shifted from shock to something softer, then sharper, the flicker of emotions in her eyes hard to pin down.

A few familiar faces from the crowd had caught sight of them and began moving closer, their curiosity only adding to the tension crackling in the air but neither of them noticed.

Suddenly, a pair of children darted between them, giggling as they ran, oblivious to their surroundings.

One accidentally bumped into Maha,  pushing past her and knocking her off balance. The playful shove sent Maha teetering towards the edge of the pool, as she stumbled backward, her heels slipping on the marble floor.

Time seemed to slow as she tried to regain her balance, her arms flailing. Then she slipped into the water with a loud splash.

“Maha!” he shouted as she toppled backwards, his mind frozen for a split second as he struggled to catch up with the sudden turn of events, too baffled to react. His heart was pounding as the erupting chaos around him blurred into nothing.

The splash sent a wave of icy water rippling across the pool, drenching the edge as surprised shouts and anxious gasps filled the air which was crackling with tension.

Isahaq's body seemed to be locked in place, too shocked to move. Just as adrenaline kicked through his blood and he was about to jump in after her, someone came rushing from behind, roughly shoving past him and a tall, muscular frame dove in straight after her.

Author's Note

I've decided to add a prologue after half of the book has already been published.

For new readers who's seeing this for the first time, welcome to the journey, I hope this story will find a place in your heart 🤍

As for those who're seeing this halfway through reading the book, consider it a sneak peek for the upcoming chapters 👀

I've excluded some stuff from the main scene to keep this mysterious and suspenseful so that the actual chapter can be just as much interesting in the future In Sha Allah.

Hoping this has piqued your curiosity!

Feel free to comment your thoughts on what's happening in here, I'd love to read your theories XD

Love - A.M.K