Tera Deedar Hua ??? ?

Madira sat in her new room, draped in her wedding attire, feeling a whirlwind of emotions she couldn't quite explain.

The intricate fabric of her bridal dress shimmered in the soft light of the room, but it couldn't mask the nervousness swirling inside her.

She fidgeted with her fingers, sometimes glancing around the room, her eyes darting to the large, ornate furniture and the delicate curtains swaying slightly in the evening breeze.

Everything was perfect, the room was big, beautiful, but it felt dark-unwelcoming in a way she couldn't articulate.

The knot in her stomach tightened, the anxiety growing with each passing second.

She hadn't seen Azaan's face during the nikah.

The sehra he wore had hidden his features, but she could feel it, the distance between them, the cool detachment he carried.

She knew he hadn't wanted this marriage.

She remembered his words clearly, "I will not love you."

Yet, her heart couldn't ignore him.

She had never seen a man like Azaan, a man whose presence was so magnetic and complex.

Despite his coldness, something in her heart had drawn her in, and now, she was here, married to him.

When she had said "yes" to her family, her father, Gulfam, had been the most surprised.

He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly, but he understood.

Despite his reluctance to let her go, he saw her happiness and that was enough.

Mehram, her mother, had been thrilled, but both Madiah and Mubashira had seen something hidden in Madira's eyes.

They knew something was off, but Madira had assured them everything was fine, though they didn't quite believe her.

Eventually, they went to her room and confronted her. "Appi, tell us the truth," Madiah insisted. "What happened in that meeting?"

Madira had tried to ease their worries, but eventually, she relented. "He told me he won't love me," she confessed, her voice low. "He said he doesn't want this marriage, that he doesn't believe in love."

Madiah's face flushed with anger. "How could he say that to you? What kind of man-"

Madira placed a hand on her sister's arm, calming her down. "It's okay, Madiah. Don't be angry. It's just... he's not like other men."

She paused, her eyes distant as she thought about Azaan. "He is truthful, brutally honest. He told me everything about himself, without any pretenses. He's a good man. I know that."

Mubashira, who had been quietly listening, asked softly, "But, Appi, if he doesn't love you, why marry him? Why go through with this?"

Madira smiled, a bittersweet look crossing her face. "Because... he's special to me. I've never met anyone like him. His honesty, his integrity... it's what drew me to him. Even if he doesn't love me, I can't ignore how much I respect him."

"But, Appi," Mubashira pressed gently, "what about love? Will you really spend your life without it?"

Madira sighed, her eyes glistening with uncertainty. "I don't know... but I will try. I don't expect love, not in the way you think. But I hope... I hope one day, something will change."

Madiah and Mubashira hugged her tightly, sharing in her quiet sorrow and unspoken hope.

Madira wrapped her arms around them, finding some comfort in their warmth.