Third person's POV.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Abbas household's expansive garden. Zara sat on the grass, her fingers absentmindedly picking at the blades. She was lost in thought, her eyes distant, a shadow of the vibrant person she used to be. It had been three days since the fire, three days since she received that mysterious call from an unknown number, explaining the how and why of the fire. The shock of the call had rendered her even quieter than before, a silence that weighed heavily on her heart. Things would have been easier if that was the only information given to her.

Zara and her mother were attempting to reestablish some form of normalcy while residing in one of the several guest homes in the Abbas' household. Zara had received a polite but stern directive from Madam Aliya, the head of the family, to take a vacation from her duties. Zara knew that, despite the way it was worded, she had been dismissed. Although the Abbas family had been kind enough to provide them with a place to stay, they still felt lost and unwelcome.

Her cell phone rang, pulling her from her reverie. It was her mother, calling her into the main house. With a heavy sigh, Zara stood and made her way to the big living room. As she entered, she was taken aback by the number of people present. Members of the Abbas family filled the room, including Aunty Rahmatu, an old man, and an old lady who bore a striking resemblance to Aunty Rahmatu. The gears in Zara's mind began to turn, and it didn't take long for her to realize that these elderly strangers were her grandparents.

Her grandfather began to speak, greeting everyone with a formal "Salam," before getting to the heart of the matter. "We are here to discuss the marriage that will occur between Ashraf and Zara," he announced.

The statement was met with a collective gasp, most notably from Asma, Ashraf's cousin, whose shock echoed through the room. Zara's head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her brows knitted together as she processed the announcement.

"What?" she yelled, standing up abruptly. "How can you think of such a thing after our house burned down not up to a week ago? I don't want to get married! And I certainly don't want to live under a man!"

Her grandfather's face hardened. "The house that burned down was mine, not yours," he said coldly. "If you do not keep quiet and accept your fate, I will make you and your mother pay for the house since it was burnt down in your care."

Zara's eyes flashed with defiance. "Fine, I will pay for it. But you have no right to dictate my life. You weren't here before and you are certainly not welcome now."

The room fell into a tense silence. Zara's eyes darted around, meeting the gazes of everyone present. Madam Aliya and her Umma looked helpless, their eyes filled with concern and sorrow. Finally, her gaze landed on Ashraf, who was sitting with his head bowed, looking utterly defeated. In that moment, a new feeling took root in Zara's heart—hatred. She hated Ashraf for his involvement in this forced arrangement, for his weakness, for everything.

Without another word, Zara stormed out of the living room, her heart pounding in her chest. Madam Aliya and her Umma exchanged a worried glance, silently praying for a resolution that seemed impossible.

Zara's hands shook as she pulled out her phone and called Nana. Nana was that friend who needed no explanations, always there with a shoulder to lean on.

Zara ended the call and leaned against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The walls of the Abbas household seemed to close in around her, suffocating her. She couldn't stay here, not now, not after everything. She needed to escape, if only for a little while, to clear her head and figure out what to do next.

How dare they do this to her. They all know what marriage had cost her in the past, so why would they do that to her? Zara had concluded they want her life on a golden platter and they are not going to have it.

As she waited for Nana, Zara felt a storm of emotions swirling within her—anger, fear, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Her life, already upended by the fire, now seemed to be spiraling even further out of control. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing: she couldn't let her grandfather's threats control her, the man who had been absent all her life, the man she didn't know was related to her until now. She had to find a way to regain her strength and fight for her own future, no matter how daunting it seemed.

The sound of Nana's car pulling up outside jolted Zara from her thoughts. She wiped her tears, squared her shoulders, and walked out to meet her friend.

***

The afternoon sun produced dappled shadows on the gazebo, flowing through the vines that clung to its wooden frame. The air was dense with the aroma of flowering flowers and the distant buzz of bees, creating an almost perfect atmosphere. However, Ashraf was unimpressed with the beauty of his surroundings. He was dealing with the realization that his future was now linked to Zara, a woman who appeared to loathe him with every fiber of her existence.

Imran sat next him, leaning back against the wooden seat, his demeanour serene but alert. Asma sat across from them, her gaze flickering between Ashraf and Imran, a silent witness to a discourse that was ripping her apart internally.

"Zara and I are set to get married and I have to talk to you," Ashraf began, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know what to make of Zara. I mean, I'm fine with marrying her, but she looks at me like she'd bake me alive if she could."

Imran had expected this mostly because even his father is involved in this conspiracy of the elders and he happened to eavesdrop when his father was on the phone with Ahraf's father.

Imran raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Zara's always had that fiery side. But tell me, Ashraf, how do you feel about her?"

"Why does it look like it has been itching you to ask me this question?" Ashraf said.

"Just answer the question." Imran said.

Ashraf hesitated, glancing briefly at Asma, who quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the patterns on the gazebo floor. Taking a deep breath, Ashraf continued, "She makes me feel all giddy inside. Every glance, every thought of her, sends waves of inexplicable happiness through me. It all started the day she stepped on my toes. And trust me, it was definitely not accidental on her part. Since then, I've been completely entranced by her."

Asma clenched her fists, the pain in her heart almost unbearable. She had always loved Ashraf, and had thought he felt the same way. They had lived under the same roof, shared countless memories, and yet here he was, speaking about another woman with a fervour she had never seen in him before.

Imran searched Ashraf's eyes to see if he could spot any sign of dishonesty but there was none.

"And her eyes!" Ashraf's voice softened, his gaze distant as if he were picturing Zara in his mind. "The beauty of her eyes! It's like looking at the Helix Nebula."

"What is Helix Nebula?' Imran asked.

"Google it. Dolo kawai." Ashraf replied.

That was the breaking point for Asma. She couldn't take it anymore. With as much composure as she could muster, she stood up and quietly exited the gazebo, heading straight to their side of the house. The sound of her footsteps receding into the distance seemed to amplify the silence that followed.

Imran watched her go, a look of concern on his face before turning back to Ashraf. "I've never seen you like this, Ashraf. But you should know, Zara's been through a lot. And when i say a lot, i mean a whole lot not just one a lot. Many a lot."

Ashraf's brow furrowed. Ashraf knew there was more to Zara than meets the eye but he wanted to know exactly what's up with her"What do you mean?"

Imran sighed, leaning forward. "Zara was married before. She was abused brutally in her previous marriage. It broke her in ways you can't even imagine."

Ashraf's heart sank. "I had no idea. She never mentioned it."

"She wouldn't, she doesn't like you. Or did you forget?" Imran said and that made Ashraf hiss. "Zara used to be the most jovial, happiest, and social person you could ever meet. She wasn't always like this. Life happened to her, and she's still traumatised. She's not the same Zara I knew years back."

Ashraf felt a lump in his throat. And he was curious. Concerned but still curious. "What happened to her? Please, tell me."

Imran shook his head, his expression resolute. "It's not my story to tell. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you herself."

The weight of Imran's words hung heavy in the air. Ashraf leaned back, his mind racing with thoughts of Zara. The vibrant, captivating woman who had unwittingly stolen his heart was now revealed to be a survivor of unimaginable pain. The realisation tore at him.