The quiet of the Khan mansion was shattered the next morning by a sudden, electric energy.
"Zehra? Meher? Where are you both?"
Asad's voice boomed through the hallways, laced with an excitement that wouldn't wait. "I have good news! Come here!"
Zehra was the first to rush into the living room, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
A few seconds later, Meher shuffled in, her movements sluggish and her eyes still heavy and swollen from sleep.
"Why are you shouting?" Meher grumbled, shielding her eyes from the morning light. "I was sleeping. It's still early."
Asad didn't just walk; he practically bounced toward her, gripping her arms with a grin that bordered on manic. The sheer cheerfulness of his behavior was jarring.
Meher stood frozen in his hold, squinting at him in confusion, while Zehra watched from the side, looking just as puzzled.
"It's not early for old people like us," Asad declared, his voice thick with pride.
Meher's brow furrowed. "Are you talking about Mom and yourself?"
"Yes. About me… but not about Zehra."
"Then who?"
Asad didn't give her the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he spun toward Zehra. "Is there something sweet at home?"
"Um… yes? We have chocolates," she replied, her feet rooted to the spot by his strange intensity.
"Then bring them!"
"But… why?" Zehra asked, making no move to leave.
"Just bring them, Zehra," Asad insisted, his eyes dancing.
With slow, uncertain steps, she retreated to the kitchen and returned with a bowl filled with chocolates.
Without a word of explanation, Asad snatched one and trying to pressed it into Meher's mouth, but she said "I didn't wash my face." Asad said then go wash ur face and then quickly fed another to Zehra.
Meher Standing with confused face , eventually folding her arms over her chest. "Now will you tell us what's happening?"
Asad's grin widened until it couldn't get any larger. "It's a yes."
Meher blinked, the sugar doing nothing to clear the fog in her brain. "What?"
"Zayn agreed for the marriage."
The air in the room shifted instantly. Zehra let out a high-pitched squeal, her face lighting up. "Really?!"
But Meher was a statue. She stood completely still quiet, her face stripped of all expression.
Asad, oblivious to the silence, continued his excited ramble. "Mr. Kamran just called. Zayn is ready and wants to visit us soon for the final talks."
Zehra threw her arms around Meher, squeezing her tight. "Congratulations!"
Meher didn't return the hug. She didn't even blink. Suddenly, she wrenched herself away, turned on her heel, and bolted up the stairs.
The heavy thud of her bedroom door followed by the sharp click of the lock echoed through the house.
Asad's smile faltered into a frown. "What happened to her?"
"I think she's in shock," Zehra said, her voice tinged with worry.
Asad sighed and gently guided Zehra to the sofa, sitting down beside her. The initial rush was fading into a more serious atmosphere. "So… when should I call them?"
Zehra let out a long breath. "Let's hear Meher's thoughts too."
"You talk to her," Asad urged, leaning in.
"Make her understand. She won't find someone better."
"I'll try," Zehra replied softly, her eyes drifting toward the stairs.
In Meher's Room
Inside the sanctuary of her room, Meher's hands were trembling so violently she almost dropped her phone. She dialed the number with aggressive stabs at the screen.
"Mr. Zayn Hashmi," she snapped the moment the line connected, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Let's meet."
On the other end, Zayn's voice came through like thick honey rough, drowsy, and completely unimpressed. "Miss Meher… I'm sleeping. Call me later."
"Be at Brew & Sip Café. Sharp 11 a.m.," Meher ordered, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. She ended the call before he could breathe another word.
A second later, miles away, Zayn groaned into his pillow. "Wait I didn't even say yes!"
He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the dark screen, exasperated.
"She's making me crazy," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He sat up, stretching lazily as the realization of the day settled in. Under his breath, he added, "But… I wanted to talk to her anyway." He rubbed his face one last time, rolled out of bed, and headed toward the bathroom to wash away the remains of sleep.
Back at the mansion, Meher was a whirlwind of frantic energy. She splashed cold water on her face, but the image in the mirror offered no comfort.
Why did he say yes? The question looped in her mind like a broken record. What is happening to me, God? Why?
She gripped the edges of the sink, looking at her reflection. She pulled her features into a crying face, her voice a soft, desperate whisper.
"Why, God? Why him? I don't want to marry him… aaahhh!"
Then, forcing the scream back down, she straightened her posture and began to get ready for the confrontation.