𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 6

Zaidan's POV

We reached the open-air Walima hall about fifteen minutes ago, and I must say, the decor is alright. I wouldn't call myself a fan of it, though. Personally, I think it would have been more beautiful if they went for a black and grey color scheme. Plus, an indoor setting would have been preferable, just to avoid any unwelcome bug encounters near the guests' food. However, I must admit, they've done a fantastic job decorating the trees, and the color combination is quite pleasing. But, like I mentioned earlier, it would have been even more stunning with black and grey hues.

The hall is adorned in white and golden colors, much like Zehra's elegant white dress with delicate golden details. She's wearing an off-white hijab that perfectly covers her head, and I'm sporting a black two-piece suit without a tie, accompanied by my favorite watch on my left hand.

Uncle and Aunt were already present when we arrived, so we made our entrance and prepared to get through this Walima affair.

As we entered the hall, I noticed her sitting alone on a chair, her gaze fixed on Zehra and me. I really wish I could talk to her, but the circumstances prevent me from being seen with her, and that's truly disheartening.

Now, the photographer wants to capture our pictures, and I must say, I'm not a fan of this part. He instructed me to look at Zehra with a smile, while she's supposed to direct her gaze towards the camera for a supposedly "romantic" shot.

I tried my best to smile, but it just wouldn't come. After the cameraman captured our pictures, I averted my gaze from Zehra and scanned the room, hoping to spot her once again. She was still sitting alone, but this time, she wasn't looking in my direction.

"Now, the bride needs to place both hands on the groom's chest while maintaining eye contact," the cameraman instructed, breaking our silent connection.

"Do we really have to do this?" I asked, unable to hide my reluctance.

"Yes, you must," he replied firmly.

Zehra, with her soft voice, questioned, "Can't we try a different pose?"

"No, and why are you. . . oh, I understand now. You're feeling shy. Don't worry, it'll be a quick picture. Now, strike the pose," the cameraman reassured. I let out a groan and reluctantly positioned my hands on either side of Zehra's waist. As I glanced at her, I noticed a faint blush coloring her cheeks, and a tremor running through her body.

I could sense her sadness, and honestly, I felt the same way. But unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about it.

With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention back to Zehra, ready to capture the pose, as her delicate frame quivered with anticipation.

I sighed and hoped this photoshoot would end soon so I could go and meet her.
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Zehra's POV

After the pictures were taken, Zaidan disappeared from sight. I have no clue where he went, and I find myself searching aimlessly, scanning the surroundings. Not because I care, but because the guests keep bombarding me with questions about his whereabouts.

I simply told them that he might have gone to meet his friends, even though I had no idea.

My feet are screaming in agony from these unbearable heels. I wish I could have worn my slippers instead. No one would have noticed beneath the flowing gown.

"So, how is the beautiful bride doing?" Hoorain asked, her face beaming with a bright smile as she stood beside me. I haven't shared with Hoorain what Zaidan revealed to me two weeks ago, as he explicitly instructed me to keep it to myself. I don't know what he would do if I confided in anyone. So, I've kept it a secret from everyone, even my best friend.