𖥻﹕𝖥𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖮𝗇𝖾𝗌﹒ຯ - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

The next day, when their eyes met across the courtyard buzzing with wedding chaos, Afreen’s breath hitched.
Fahmid stood near the garden entrance, his raven-black hair tousled slightly by the wind, eyes locked onto hers—those eyes… silent, stormy, wounded. It took everything in her not to run to him, bury herself in his chest, and whisper every aching truth she had been choking down.
"Lion-ie…"
But she could not. She looked away, swallowed her sob, and quickly grabbed Ayaan’s sleeve end. “Let’s go inside,” she mumbled, pulling her fiancé along before the weight of her own emotions gave her away.
As she passed through the corridor, hushed giggles and sharp whispers made her slow down involuntarily. Her ears picked up a few voices—relatives from Ayaan’s side, chatting not-so-quietly just outside the sitting room.
“Who’s that tall guy with the black hair?”
“I heard he’s the bride’s childhood friend.”
“Childhood friend or something more, huh?” Someone snorted.
“Shameless, that’s what. No wonder he’s always lurking around. The nerve…”
Afreen stopped in her tracks. Her blood boiled. Her fists clenched at her sides. How dare they? How could they speak of him like that—so disgustingly, so falsely? Her Lion-ie, who carried a heart purer than any of them could ever imagine. Her Fahmid, who kept his love hidden just to honor her choices, her family, her dignity.
She turned to confront them. She would shut their mouths—
But then she heard voices from the side patio. Fahmid and Rashid’s.
Her anger faded into a crushing stillness. She froze again, listening. Afreen clutched her chest. The tears she had kept buried welled up, spilling silently down her cheeks.
“You should hate me, Lion-ie,” she whispered under her breath. “I don’t deserve someone like you. Someone so good.”
But that was only the beginning. The first day’s gossip was mild. Each day afterward, the comments got sharper and nastier. They questioned his character. His intentions. Her silence.
They whispered like snakes, their words biting deeper into Afreen’s conscience. And Fahmid—he just… bore it all quietly, that did not belong to him. He never once defended himself, never lashed out.
It killed her. It destroyed her. Thus, the night before the wedding, as the house dimmed and only whispers of the celebration echoed in the background, Afreen picked up her phone with trembling fingers and texted him.
She did not know what to say when he arrived. If she said too little, he would worry. If she said too much, her heart would spill the truth she could not afford. Thus, she blurted out those cruel things while masking her emotions very well. Afreen bit her lip to stop it from trembling. It felt like stabbing herself as she spoke each word.
After he gently kissed her forehead and left, Afreen stood still for a second—then collapsed to her knees the moment he disappeared. Her body wracked with sobs as she cried into her palms, cursing herself.
“I’m so cruel… so selfish… I hurt the only man who ever truly loved me.”
But it was too late. He was gone. And his words echoed in her mind like a vow and a curse all at once, “I will always love you, no matter what.”
The next day, chaos rippled through the house. Fahmid was gone. Vanished. Calls went unanswered. His room—empty. His phone—switched off. His belongings—intact. But he was nowhere. People searched, questioned, and whispered. Some relatives murmured about drama. Others assumed he would come back. But Afreen… she knew better.
She stood silently at the edge of the hallway, her heart twisting painfully with every passing minute. Her smile was fake, her expressions practiced. She laughed when required and spoke when needed—but inside, she was unraveling.
"This is your fault."
"You told him to leave."
"You broke him, and now he’s gone."
And still… she said nothing. As the ³*Nikkah approached, people reluctantly focused on the wedding again. “He’ll return,” they said. “Maybe he just needed some air,” they reasoned.
But Afreen’s heart screamed otherwise. In her dressing room, everything felt wrong. The air was heavy, suffocating. Her makeup felt like a mask, her bridal clothes like chains. She stared at her reflection—at the girl who had destroyed her own happiness with her own hands. That was when the door burst open.
SLAM!
Rashid stormed in, face red with fury. “YOU!” he shouted, eyes blazing. “You’re responsible for this, aren’t you?!”
Afreen flinched. “What—”
“Don’t act innocent now, Afreen!” He snapped. “He’s gone. Fahmid is GONE! And you—what did you do?! You pushed him away! Again and again! He gave you his soul, and you stomped on it like it meant nothing!”
Rashid barked. “Do you think he’s your puppet? Your emotional toy? You call him when you need him, push him away when it gets too much—he’s a person, dammit! He bleeds. He breaks.” Afreen’s breath hitched, eyes glistening.
“I’ve seen him cry for you, Afi. A man like him—he never cries. But for you? He shattered.” A silence fell over them, thick with grief and anger.
Afreen lowered her gaze. She just stood there, head bowed, silence pressing against her like a weight she could not lift.
“Come on, speak the fuck up, Afreen Hadid!” Rashid roared. “Why did you do this?! Wasn’t breaking his heart enough, huh?!” His voice echoed through the room, louder than the silence she had buried herself in.
“You know what?” He spat. “That moron is hopeless. Even after everything—even after your cold words, your avoidance—he still says he’d love you. Do you understand how messed up that is?!” His eyes flared, voice trembling with fury. “But you? You don’t deserve that love. People like you—” He took a shaky breath. “You deserve hate. Just hate. Because precious souls like Fahmid don’t belong with heartless people like you.”
And that broke her. Her knees nearly gave way as she whispered, “You’re right, Rashid Bhaiya.”
His anger froze midair.
“I don’t deserve his love,” she continued, her voice barely audible. “He deserves the entire world. And I’m just… unlucky. No matter how much I love him, I can never give him the happiness he dreams of.”
Rashid’s rage dissolved into confusion. He stepped forward and grabbed her forearms, voice gentler now. “What do you mean, Afi? Speak clearly.”
She looked up—and that was all it took. Her eyes, glassy with pain, told him everything. “You love him too,” he whispered, stunned. “You love him as well.” Afreen’s tears spilled freely then.
“Fuck!” Rashid cursed under his breath. “Why didn’t you say this before?! Why did you push him away? Why didn’t you call off the wedding?! Are you nuts?!”
Afreen shook her head, clutching his arms tightly as if to ground herself. “Because I can’t be selfish, Bhaiya. I can’t let my father down. Not in front of Uncle Liam…”
Rashid blinked, baffled. “What do you mean?”
And so she told him. Every detail. Every reason why she let go of the one person who made her feel whole. About how the marriage was connected to her father’s business. The reputation. The trust.
“I asked him to leave… because people were saying horrible things. About him. About us. I couldn’t bear it. He didn’t deserve that.” Afreen could not stop the tears that spilled as she confessed.
“And instead of standing beside him, you kicked him away?” Rashid said disappointedly. “He would’ve walked through hell for you, Afreen. But now? No one even knows where he is.”
She broke down, sobbing. “This is my fate, Bhaiya. I fell in love with someone I was never meant to have. And now I’m paying the price. Please… please, don’t tell anyone. Not Fahmid. Not anyone. I’m begging you.”
Rashid looked at her with a shattered heart. “You both are idiots,” he muttered bitterly. “One doesn’t want to claim his love. And one refuses to be claimed. And both of you are drowning in silence, pretending it’s sacrifice.” He turned toward the door. “This won’t end in healing, Afreen. It’ll end in regret. Mark my words.”
Before he walked out, she whispered, "Please, once I am gone, find him and bring him home back. Please..." She requested.
Then he shook his head slowly. “He might come back,” he said softly. “But this time… I don’t know if even love is enough to fix what’s broken.”
And with that, he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Afreen sank to the floor, alone again—with her guilt, her grief, and her love that could never be spoken.
Finally, they were at the altar. Afreen looked ethereal, draped in a delicate ivory lehenga, her eyes lowered, her fingers clutching the edge of her wedding veil. She looked like the angel she was—serene, yet painfully distant. Ayaan, dressed in a classic sherwani with a muted gold finish, looked every bit the prince this day demanded. Yet something about his gaze said he did not quite feel like one.
They sat on opposite couches, a thin, transparent veil hanging between them as per custom. Guests waited quietly, anticipation hovering in the air like incense smoke.
But Afreen felt numb. Her mind, her soul, her heartbeat—all called out to one name: Fahmid.
The ⁴*Qazi began the sacred recitation. "Afreen Hadid ⁵*bint Ashraf Hadid, do you ⁶*Qubool this Nikkah with Ayaan Ahmed ⁷*bin Liam Ahmed, with the ⁸*mahr agreed upon?"
Afreen’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes closed slowly, and in that instant, her entire life with her Lion-ie played out in a silent reel—every moment, every laugh, every stolen glance. A heartbeat later, her voice—shaky, soft, but audible—broke through. "Qubool."
The Qazi repeated the same twice more, and each time she replied with a shaky, "Qubool." In the silence that followed her final Qubool, not a soul in the room knew what she had just buried alive.
And just like that, a dam inside her burst. Her heart shattered quietly inside her chest, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She was no longer Fahmid’s Bunny.
Then came Ayaan’s turn.
"Ayaan Ahmed bin Liam Ahmed, do you Qubool this Nikkah with Afreen Hadid bint Ashraf Hadid, with the mahr agreed upon?"
Silence.
"No," Ayaan said firmly. The room gasped. "No, I don’t Qubool this Nikkah. I don’t want to marry Afreen Hadid."
There was chaos. Gasps. Murmurs. Ashraf stood up in shock, his voice trembling, "Ayaan, son, what are you saying? Did we do something wrong? Tell me, son."
Ayaan stood tall, facing the room, his gaze steady. "No, Uncle. You and your family have done nothing wrong to me. But you’ve wronged Afreen. Did anyone ask her if she even wanted to marry me?"
Afreen's eyes widened. Her breath hitched. He knew?
"But she said yes," Ashraf replied, confused.
Ayaan’s voice softened but stayed firm. "Saying yes out of helplessness is not the same as wanting to marry me, Uncle. How can I marry someone who belongs to someone else—heart and soul? That would be a sin. I can’t do that."
He turned to Afreen, who looked down, ashamed. "I heard everything. You and Rashid bhai. Outside your room. You didn’t want this."
Ashraf looked at his daughter, eyes demanding the truth. “She won’t say anything, Uncle. Not because she wants this. But because she’s scared to hurt you… or ruin your reputation and that precious business deal,” Ayaan said, his voice steady yet sharp with emotion.
“This idiot right here—” he gestured toward Afreen, “—she loves Fahmid more than her own life. But she loves you more than her love. That’s why she agreed to this marriage.”
Gasps echoed in the room like a silent explosion. The Hadid family froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
Ashraf’s throat tightened. His gaze snapped to his daughter, who sat silent, unmoving, her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Her eyes—still downcast—glimmered with unshed tears.
“Afreen,” Ashraf’s voice cracked, gentle but trembling, “Is this true? Do you… love Fahmid?”
Her voice cracked. "Yes, Baba. I love Fahmid. More than I love myself." The room fell into stunned silence.
"Then why didn’t you tell us before?! We could have stopped all this!" Ashraf's voice broke with emotion.
"Because I didn’t want to bring shame to you, Baba." She sobbed. "I thought... I thought your deal, your respect, your name would suffer."
"Nonsense! Nothing matters more to me than your happiness!" Ashraf pulled her into a tight embrace, tears running down his face.
"Afi," Liam piped up, clearly emotional too. "If you’d told me, I’d have called everything off myself."
"But... I thought you’d hate me for ruining the deal," she whispered.
"What deal?" Ashraf asked, confused. With trembling lips, Afreen explained everything she had overheard in her parents’ room. The conversation. The assumptions. The panic.
Both families slapped their foreheads. Ashraf sighed deeply. "Oh, my baby lioness. It was not it. I said that because Mr. Liam helped us to crack the deal, and there only I talked about you, and he seemed to like you; thus, he proposed the wedding. You misunderstood all of it!" Ashraf cleared it out, and then Afreen felt like the sky was falling on her.
The realization hit Afreen like a crashing wave. She broke down. "Ya Allah... I ruined everything. I chased him away. I asked him to leave."
Yasmin rushed to hold her. "Shh, shh, baccha, calm down."
Afreen cried harder. "I asked Lion-ie to go away! Some relatives were making nasty comments about him. I couldn't handle those. So... I pushed him away cruelly! He left because I forced him to. I am so damn heartless."
"I’m sorry. I didn’t know! I’m sorry, Uncle Hamza." She turned to Fahmid’s father, who simply looked at her with sad, gentle eyes.
"It’s okay, dear. You meant well. I’m just angry at myself for never seeing how deeply he loved you. We’ll find him." Hamza assured her.
"No need," came Sabrina’s shaky but cold voice as she walked in, holding a letter. "I found this in his room."
Hamza took the letter and read aloud:
Dear Maa and Baba,
If you are reading this, that means I have already left. Sorry for leaving like this. But I had no other option. I love Afreen, Baba. I love her a lot. I am sorry for saying this now. And I know I shouldn't have these feelings for someone who always saw me as a best friend and brother figure. But my heart never listened to me, and I fell for her. And now, I can't take it any longer. I can't pretend any longer that it doesn't hurt when it kills me every second. I can't see my love becoming someone else's. Thus, I have decided to leave the place and take the military course. In these three years, I hope I can overcome my feelings for her. I am sorry for all this. And I love you both a lot.
— Fahmid.
Afreen collapsed onto her knees. "He still protected me... even now... He didn't tell anyone... Even now he loved me..."
Sabrina walked up and gently lifted her chin. Her eyes were filled with tears. "I should hate you for taking my son from me. But I can’t hate the one my son loved more than life itself. I forgive you. But now, you have to prove yourself worthy of him. Wait for him. Can you promise me that, Afreen?"
"Yes, Aunty," Afreen whispered through her tears. "I promise. I will wait. I will do everything to prove myself worthy of his love."
Just then, someone huffed dramatically. "Alright, alright, the wedding is off. But can someone please tell me—do we at least get to eat the food? I did not wear heels for no biryani!"
Heads turned toward Sufiyah, Fahmid’s feisty cousin. Everyone burst into laughter, the tension easing slightly. But someone’s heart skipped a beat.
Ayaan turned toward the source of the voice—and everything else faded. There she was.
Sufiyah. Clad in a rich emerald green ensemble that complemented her sun-kissed skin, her kohl-lined eyes sparkled with mischief, laughter dancing freely on her lips. Her earrings swayed with each movement, catching the light the same way her presence caught his breath.
She was not the kind of beautiful that poets wrote about. No—she was chaos wrapped in charisma, fire dressed in grace. She looked like trouble and felt like peace. A paradox that should not exist… And yet, there she was, stealing all the air from his lungs just by existing.
Her laughter rang out again, unapologetic and unbothered, lighting up the heavy atmosphere like a match in the dark. And that was when it hit Ayaan like a freight train.
Not a slow realization, not a gradual affection. No. It was instant. Lightning. A gut punch to his soul. She had just stolen his heart. Not with sweetness or silence, but with the hurricane that she was. She was the storm he did not see coming. And he did not even want to run.
"Of course, you get the food, darling! It’s our wedding, after all!" He blurted out, smirking.
Sufiyah scrunched her nose. "Our wedding? My foot would marry you, you dumbass!"
She strutted off to the food corner. Ayaan watched, smitten. "You can stomp on me all you want, gorgeous. I’d still want you," he murmured, chuckling.
Behind him, Afreen coughed. Ayaan turned. "Thank you, Ayaan. I don’t know how to ever repay you."
Ayaan pulled her veil playfully. "You think you’re mature now, huh? Thanking me instead of telling me earlier what was going on. Don’t thank me. If you really want to repay me..."
He paused and then pointed toward Sufiyah, who was messily devouring pastries. "...be my Cupid. For that cutie."
Afreen laughed for the first time in days. "Oh, ho! So you’ve fallen for my Sufiyah *⁹Aapi, huh? Then, my highness, your wish is my command."
That day, Afreen moved into the Bilal Mansion. She spent each day proving her love for Fahmid, hoping, praying for his return. Months passed. Ayaan and Sufiyah eventually tied the knot themselves, their story blooming from chaos.
What started as playful banter turned into late-night calls and long drives. He adored her wit and honesty, and she found herself softening toward the man who once annoyed her to no end. Ayaan learned to love fiercely, and Sufiyah learned to trust gently. From stolen glances to heartfelt confessions, their relationship grew slowly, deeply, until one day, without fanfare, Ayaan asked her to marry him under the same chandeliers where they first locked eyes. Sufiyah said yes.