Sadqay Tumhare

5,6.

And yet I will be signing those nikah papers tomorrow. I'm scared and I don't know who else to tell it all to.

My sister is already too burdened with my everyday rants, my friends think I'm the happiest bride alive and you? I don't know you enough to tell it all to you.

"I'm fine." I whispered, pushing back all my thoughts, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you busy?" He questioned me and I could understand why.

There was noise behind me, my mother, my sister, the jeweller, a few workers.

I walked towards the dining hall, sitting on a chair and entering the silence.

"I was picking jewellery, actually." I informed him.

"Alright, just wanted to check up on you."

Check up on me? My heart warmed at that but at the same time, it took me a few minutes to process it all.

"Thank you. What are you doing?"

I enquired.

"I'm in a cabinet meeting. We had a small break so I thought I'd call you."

He was a part of the Prime Minister' cabinet as the foreign minister. But it was the day of his mehndi. Was his father really holding a meeting on this day?

"Oh, okay. Thanks." I didn't question him about his plans.

Somehow, I felt awkward questioning him about things. Personal things.

"Ofcourse, I have to go now. I'll see you tonight."

He mumbled.

"Take care," I whispered.

"Good bye."

And he hung up the phone.

I smiled, putting my phone back in my pocket as I went outside.

"Who was that?"

My sister threw a question at me the moment she saw me. Somehow, Saira always observed everything.

I gave her a look, she understood who it was immediately.

"Ohh, everything okay?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, apparently he wanted to check up on me."

She smiled, patting my back.

"Seems like things are going to be okay, right?"

"I guess so."

And I hoped so.

Then why was my heart not sure?

"Aaina, you look stunning, MashaAllah. You are breathtaking, my dear." My mother in law gushed, smiling and kissing the side of my forehead.

I smiled against her, looking at the way she was carrying herself.

"Thank you, Aunty. You look lovely too."

She was wearing a beautiful blue dress with a pearl necklace. Even though she had a dupatta around her head and a shawl to cover up her shoulders, she still looked as regal as a first lady should.

She turned her head from my side to her son's.

Her son, who was going to be my husband. Her son who was wearing black at his own mehndi and still looking better than me.

I knew I was beautiful, I had been told that ever since I was little but how could I compete with him?

Even in his thick unruly beard, he looked like a million bucks.