"Kya aap humse nikah krna chahengi?" (Would you like to be in my Nikah?)
Faraj looked straight into her eyes, his voice steady yet impossibly soft
Zubia's breath caught. For a moment, everything else faded-the world, the noise, the past. Just his w...
Inside her room, Zubia sat before the mirror, draped in an intricately embroidered red gharara, her hands adorned with deep-stained mehendi that bore the hidden initials of a name she hadn't dared to say out loud yet.
The heavy jhoomar rested elegantly on one side of her forehead, and her naath gleamed softly, adding to her ethereal beauty.
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As she sat before the mirror, her reflection staring back at her, she felt a strange emptiness in her heart.
Her mother.
She was supposed to be here.
To adjust her dupatta. To scold her for not sitting still. To kiss her forehead and whisper "meri Zubi..., allah meri bacchi ka nasib buland kare"
("My Zubi..... May Allah bless my daughter with a bright future".)
But she wasn't here.
A sudden lump formed in Zubia's throat as her fingers unconsciously tightened over the bangles on her wrists.
"Ammi..."she muttered
(Mom)
Areeba noticed the change in her expression and gently squeezed her hand. "Zubia?"
She quickly composed herself, forcing a small smile. "Kuch nahi, bas yunhi."
(Nothing, just like that.)
Areeba's eyes softened She sat beside her, gently fixing the dupatta on her head, her eyes a little teary, a little proud.
"You look like someone answered prayer," Areeba whispered. "A beautiful, unspoken prayer someone must've made years ago."
Zubia's heart fluttered. She didn't know if it was nerves, excitement, or the weight of the moment finally settling in her bones. Maybe all of it.
Areeba came up beside her, her eyes soft.
"You're not alone, Zubia. And this isn't some forced fairytale. It's your story... and I think it's going to be beautiful."
"And jokes apart but believe me I think your Akdu prani is not that akdu"She chuckled by saying the last line.
(Akdu prani=Arrogant man)
Her words did what no elaborate makeup or gold could do - they comforted zubia
Just then, the door creaked open.
And here the lady comes Fazeela Khala.
🌷🌷
Zubia pov
She stood at the threshold for a second too long, then stepped in with a tissue dramatically pressed to her eye.
