© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad
*
Hooriya
"This is pure hypocrisy!" I cried out. "She made sure I ate and drank plenty of liquids, but she couldn't do the same for herself!"
"Hooriya." Papa's tone was full of disapproval as he looked at me.
"Hoor's not wrong though, is she?" Rohaan added, giving a one-shouldered shrug with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Hoor Appi, you could have looked after her!" Arsalan's tone was uncharacteristically full of accusation, as his protectiveness over Mama began to shine through.
I blinked, taken aback by his words. I wasn't offended; in fact, I had just realised how right he was.
"Arsu, don't." Sitting on the living room sofa, Mama shook her head at him. "I'm not Hoor's responsibility. I should know better."
"Of course you are! As we grow up, parents become our responsibility!" Arsalan argued.
Although dehydration was the main cause behind Mama's poor condition, she'd had other tests done as well, to rule out any other underlying causes.
I felt guilty. Arsu was right. I had been too focused on myself to take care of Mama properly. I sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, Mama."
"Hoor, it wasn't your fault." My mother reassured me. "I'm not yet at a stage where I'm incapable of taking care of myself. I showed negligence towards my own health, and that's on me, not you." She stood up. "I need rest. I still feel jet lagged."
"Okay, well we're going out for pizza." Haya informed her. "Me, Hoor, Ro and Arsu. It's been a long time."
"Haya, you should be resting your foot." Mama frowned at her.
"I'm not going salsa dancing, Mama. I'm just going for a pizza, and Arsu will be driving." Haya replied. "Let's go, Hoor."
The four of us headed out for a sibling dinner after a long time.
*
We walked down the street past the various restaurants and cafés as we headed towards our favourite pizza place. There hadn't been a parking too close, and we had suggested going elsewhere, for Haya's sake, but she had said, and I quote, 'athletes don't fear physical endeavours'. I really had to hand it to her and her fitness, Ma Sha Allah. I get out of breath going up the stairs.
We passed by a café and I froze in my track. I blinked repeatedly to make sure that I wasn't imagining things. Farhaan and Sophie standing face-to-face, clearly in the middle of a serious discussion. My heart sank a little, but before I let doubtful thoughts invade my mind, my practical side froze them in their place. I took my phone out and messaged him. I didn't want to do the cliché thing by testing his honesty, but I also wanted to stop any thoughts that would convert into suspicion. I didn't want to be that wife who doubted each and every action of her husband regarding his ex.
<Hooriya: What are you up to?>
I followed my siblings absent-mindedly. Please be honest with me, Farhaan. Please.
As the four of us sat at a table, ready to place our orders, the windchimes notification sound of my phone alerted me to a message. My fingers itched to immediately grab my phone, but I acted calm and composed, before I slowly picked the phone up as casually as if to see the time.
<Farhaan: I just met Sophie at a café. Just talking to her.>
I swallowed hard, my heart swelling up with happiness. His honesty was beautiful, refreshing. Instead of assuming I'd overreact and hiding it from me, he had told me the truth. I feel sometimes men underestimate a female's need for honesty. They have no idea how much it means to us.
<Hooriya: Okay 🙂>
<Farhaan: Okay? No questioning?>
<Hooriya: I don't need to.>
Feeling relaxed, I put my phone aside and focused on this reunion with my siblings. If he was honest enough to tell me that he was having a conversation with Sophie, I didn't need to question him further. He had eradicated all room for doubt.
*
Farhaan
"Congratulations on your Nikah." Sophie told me. Her expressions revealed nothing about her feelings.
"Thank you, Sophie."
The awkwardness that fell around us almost felt unnatural. Sophie and I used to talk for hours, and suddenly those days seemed like nothing but a long distant memory, times from another era.
"How's Hooriya?" She asked. It was yet another unusual thing, for my ex-fiancée to be asking about my wife.
"She's well, Alhumdulillah."
She gave me a sad smile. "You know, I've started to see the importance of halal relationship, and why Islam forbids a romantic relationship between non-mehrams. Had I realised this much earlier, things would have been completely different right now."
I nodded. "It was something that neither of us gave much importance to, even though we should have."
Sophie and I never had a physical relationship, certainly not Zina. However, we had liked each other for years now, and in such circumstances our religion encourages immediate marriage to prevent the feelings and thoughts that lead to Zina. But, I suppose, since we were never meant to be, we kept delaying Nikah using various excuses: our education, her career, me setting up the B&B, etc. But what goodness comes out of delaying an encouraged act?
*Zina: unlawful s*xual relations.
She looked thoughtfully at me. "Look, if you're worried that I resent you, or that I don't forgive you, that's not true. Yeah, you could have reached this conclusion much earlier, but you did the right thing nevertheless. I can tell you, I would never have forgiven you had you realised this after marriage."
We talked for a little while longer, and the awkwardness started to disappear. The comfort that was felt between two people who'd known each other for years started to settle in once again.
*
Hooriya
"Not bad." Haya examined the outfits that Mama and I had brought for her from Lahore. "I seriously expected something ghastly."
"Ghastly?" I laughed.
"Why does my use of unusual words surprise you?" She frowned at me. "Writing is in my blood, after all." She lifted up one of the outfits. "It's this for the Valima?"
I nodded.
"Fair enough. I'm more comfortable in my usual outfits, but I had to wear desi dresses, I wouldn't mind this one." She looked at the dress with a small smile on her face. "But forget my outfit, let me see yours- Valima one, I mean."
"My Valima dress is at my in-laws' house."
She sat down at the foot of my bed, pushing the outfits aside. "Not long to go now, huh? How do you feel?"
How do I feel? How does one feel when their dream of many years was about to come true? It's like gulping down cool water after a long, hard day in the sun. It is like the first raindrops after a drought. It is like the blooming of flowers after a long harsh winter. It is the feeling of lying in your comfortable bed after a long, tiring day at work. It is a sweet relief that couldn't be expressed in words. It is an answered dua. I grabbed the spare pillow on my bed and held it against myself. "I can't feel it yet. It hasn't sunk in."
"Who are you lying to? I'm your twin." She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, since you know me so well, you tell me how I'm feeling!"
"Okay, I will." She sat crossed legged on the bed, grinning. "Picture the final of an epic cricket tournament. It's the last ball, and the team needs five runs to win. The crowd holds their breaths as the bowler balls. And as the bat swings, the ball flies across the ground. It's a six! That relief at seeing that tournament-winning sixer is how you're feeling right now."
I laughed again. "Of course you explained this in cricket terms!"
"Am I wrong?"
I smiled to myself, shaking my head slightly.
"Haye, sharma gayi dulhan!" Haya snatched the pillow from my arms and slammed it against me.
*"Oh, the bride is blushing!"
"Stop it, Haya!" I grabbed my main pillow and hit her with it.
"Shadi hojayegi, ladki parayi hojayegi." Haya continued, pressing the back of her wrist against her forehead, damsel-in-distress style.
*"She'll get married, she'll become estranged."
"For Allah's sake, Haya!"
She continued laughing like a damn hyena and I shook my head in disapproval.
*
Haya
Hashir Mamu, my mother's stepbrother and Kamran Nana's son from his previous marriage, visited the next day to congratulate us on Hoor's wedding. He gave Hoor warm blessings, but when she headed out to meet her friends, he sat in the living room, looking worried. "Did you both think things through, Anabia?"
Mama frowned. "What do you mean, Hashir?"
Hashir Mamu took his glasses off with a sigh. "Anabia, I was just a little concerned. Hoor's husband, Farhaan, was with his ex-fiancée for a decade, right? For him to suddenly end things and decide that he wants to marry Hoor...didn't it bother you and Rehan Bhai?"
Papa wasn't home, it was only me and Mama.
"Hashir, if I hadn't known the family so well, I might have been concerned too. But I think it was just a genuine case of him not realising what he truly wanted. I sense no bad or suspicious intentions here, and Rehan and I agree on that." Mama replied. "I've known Hareem's family all my life basically, and I know that Faiz Bhai and Anaya Bhabi raised their kids well, Ma Sha Allah."
"And Hoor is happy right?" Hashir Mamu confirmed.
"Of course she is. This all is happening with her full will and happiness." Mama reassured him.
Hashir Mamu nodded. "Okay. Well, as long a Hooriya is happy, so are we all. Our prayers are forever with her and the rest of the kids."
Hashir Mamu had married a Polish woman Oliwia, a nurse he had met when he used to work as an NHS administrator. Although he regularly remained in touch with our family and Saim Mamu's family, he generally lived a quiet life with his wife, daughter Hanna and son Elias, on the other side of the city.
"Of course. If Hooriya wasn't happy, it wouldn't be happening." Mama gestured towards the tray of snacks that Hoor had brought out for him along with the tea before she had left. "Help yourself, Hashir. You hardly ate anything."
Hashir Mamu laughed. "I've eaten too much, Anabia. You have your mother's Lahori hospitality, I see."
Mama also laughed. "I'm nothing compared to her, trust me. She has the talent to feed three meals in one go."
We all laughed at that, knowing how true that was about Nano.
*
Rehan
"I am here. Beware."
I looked up with a smirk as I heard the familiar voice. "Who let the devil in?"
Faisal Akhtar, my former agent, stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. "The devil was already here. It's only natural that the demons would pay him a visit, right?"
I laughed and stood up, walking around the table to hug him. "What the hell, Fais? Why didn't you come for Hoor's Nikah?"
"I was too much in shock that the little baby daughter of yours was now going to be a bride, Ma Sha Allah! But fear not, Uncle Faisal is here in time for the wedding!" Faisal hugged me back.
As he stepped back, my gaze went to the doorway, and my smile widened.
Josephine Fernandes, now known as Yasmin, stood there, wearing a full abaya and a hijab. "Assalam Alaikum."
"Walaikum Assalam." I replied. "It has been a while hasn't it?"
Once upon a time, the two had mutual feelings for each other which they'd never really expressed. Faisal, bound by his conservative parents' wishes, had married and got an immediate divorce. Yasmin, then known as Josie, had converted to Islam, dedicating her life and her time to learning more about her religion. Eventually she had met her now-husband in Pakistan, and lived happily ever after with him in Islamabad, Ma Sha Allah.
"I received the wedding invitation and I just had to come." Yasmin spoke softly.
"You received the Nikah invitation too. You both did." I frowned in disapproval, glaring at both of them in turn.
"I'm sorry, Ray. I really wanted to come, but I had made up my mind then that I would not miss these events." Yasmin smiled weakly. She glanced at Faisal. "How are you?"
"Alhumdulillah, very well. You?" He gave her a warm smile.
"Alhumdulillah, also very well." She turned back to me. "I can't wait to see Anabia and your kids! The sweetheart little twins all grown up now, Ma Sha Allah!"
"Yeah, that's a pill that's hard to swallow." I nodded. "The two little toddlers who used to chase after me are now old enough for marriage."
"I still remember when you both were excitedly awaiting their arrival. How you announced their genders to all of us. How we all just couldn't wait to meet them!" Yasmin's eyes dampened.
"And then the two were born on your birthday." Faisal added with a smile.
I smiled. It had been a surreal feeling, the twins sharing my birthday.
"Anyway, now that we're here, we'll help you and Anabia with anything you need while preparing for the wedding, In Sha Allah." Yasmin told me.
"Absolutely. Our niece is getting married. We won't leave any stone unturned in making this a beautiful and memorable occasion for her." Faisal agreed. "May Allah bless her with a blissful marital life. Ameen."
"Ameen." We all repeated.
*
Hooriya
We were doing things a little differently. Often, in our society, the mayoun and mehendi ceremonies are done on different days. For these ceremonies at my wedding, we had a two-day event held at my Dada Jaan and Dado's house, strictly female only. The first day was mayoun, and the next day was mehendi.
*Mayoun: A ritual focusing on skincare and beautification. Haldi (turmeric) is applied to the bride.
The mayoun was a simple ceremony, held on the first morning. From Farhaan's side, Anaya Aunty, Hareem Khalla, Ifra and Aizah Appi attended. From my side there were of course, Mama, Haya, Dado, Nano (who had arrived a day before), Yamna, Saba Chachi and Laila Mumani, along with my friends.
I sat in a sleeveless yellow kameez as turmeric was applied to me by the various females in my life. Haya smudged a little too much, making me squeal. Meanwhile, Yamna applied turmeric which just the fingertip of her index finger, not wanting her hands to get all yellow.
The evening was spent with music, talking and laughing. With the absence of males, the ladies were free to enjoy the event without worrying about a non-mehram presence. Later, my bridal mehendi was applied on my hands, reaching up to the elbows, and on my feet.
"Teri mehndi woh dekhainge, to apna dil rakhdainge, pairon main tere chupke se, haryali banni." Ifra teased me.
An uneasy feeling coursed through me. In the last few days, I hadn't had much contact with Farhaan. I was hoping it was simply because he was busy with the wedding preparations, but a deep worry gnawed away at me internally.
My hands covered in henna, I was unable to use my phone to contact him, and my heart was starting to sink. Was he getting cold feet?
"Hoor, go to sleep." Haya muttered sleepily from the mattress spread out on the bedroom floor where she was sleeping.
We had our own rooms even at our grandparents' house, but I had Haya to remain in my room tonight. The poor house staff had to bring in a mattress especially for this purpose. As per Dado, 'whatever Hoor wants, she'll get'- not a rule my mother approved of very much, but she couldn't say much in front of her mother-in-law.
"I'm not disturbing you!" I argued.
"You keep tossing and turning and sighing!"
"I can't find a comfortable position without ruining my mehndi." I complained.
"You can't find a comfortable position without ruining my sleep, you mean."
"What do you want me to do?"
"You could have let me sleep in my room." Her phone light turned on and she yawned. "It's almost two, Hoor."
"Turn the bedside lamp on."
"Is that an order?" She grumbled, but stood up anyway.
"I'm the bride, so yes." A smile finally broke across my face.
A few seconds later the lamp light flickered on, and Haya stood at my bedside, glaring down at me. "Why did you force me to sleep in this room?"
"Because."
"'Because' is a conjunction, not a reason." My twin reminded me. "As an English expert, you should know that."
"I didn't want to be alone." I admitted.
"Why?" She sat down beside me. "Since when are you scared of being alone?"
"When I'm alone, my thoughts disturb me."
"What thoughts?"
"Why is there so little contact from Farhaan these days?" I whispered. "In desi romance novels that I read, the groom tries to find as many reasons as possible to talk to his bride, especially if the Nikah is done beforehand."
"That's your problem, Hoor. You read too many books. Differentiate reality from fiction. In reality, a groom is hounded by last-minute wedding chores, especially when he is the ghar ka bada beta, who always handles the responsibilities."
*"The elder son of the house."
"Still...a few messages won't hurt."
"Why don't you message him?" She suggested. "Or call him?"
"I don't want to see desperate..."
"Again, you're living in your fictional world. Hoor, you two are bound by Nikah. It won't be an insult to either of you to take the first step. Remember, ego is a villain of a marriage, as Dado always says."
"I literally can't use my hands right now. And it's almost two."
She rolled her eyes. "Now, this is what's going to happen. Listen to my instructions clearly and please follow them thoroughly. Any questions will be answered at the end."
I giggled.
"I will dial his number, put it on loudspeaker and leave the room. Got it?" She took my phone and unlocked it.
"Haya, don't be silly! It's almost two!"
She simply shrugged. "So?"
"He must be asleep."
She swiped on the contact lists over his name and tapped the loudspeaker button. "Good luck." Getting up, she made her way out of the room.
I nervously listened to the dial tone at the end, my heart pounding hard.
"Hoor, everything okay?" His sleepy and concerned voice came through.
Suddenly, I was annoyed. "No! Nothing is okay!"
"What happened? What's wrong?"
"We are getting married!"
There was a brief pause. "Is that what's wrong, Hoor?"
"I've hardly heard from you! Do you have any excuse, mister?"
"Apart from the fact that there's a wedding around the corner, and that I'm part of one of the major families involved in this wedding, hence responsible for organising a lot of things?" He sounded amused.
"Maybe you should start hosting comedy nights at the B&B since you're so funny." I muttered. "You have a bride too, you know? You can always ask about her, it's not a sin."
"Is it a sin for the bride to contact me?" He teasingly asked. "Especially since the Nikah is done and all."
I pursed my lips together. He wasn't exactly wrong.
"Video call?"
"No. The mayoun has been done. We shouldn't see each until the wedding now."
"Technically, for us Nikah is the 'wedding', and that has been done."
I smiled. "Nice try. Good night, Farhaan."
"Good night, Hoor."
My mind and heart at ease, I fell asleep immediately after the call ended without even letting Haya back in. Needless to say, in the morning I was woken up in a very nasty manner as she took he revenge by throwing a glass full of cold water at me.
Now I knew why Mama and Saim Mamu called each other a 'Terror Twin'. Mine had clearly inherited the title from her mother and maternal uncle.
*
My mehndi dress consisted of a long soft-gold coloured dress, with tea-pink embroidery at the bottom and the bodice, and golden sequins. The dupatta is truly what made it a mehndi outfit: yellow with a golden border and gold beads dotting it.
I sat on the swing decorated with flowers as I watched the ladies around me enjoying themselves. At the moment, it was just the females from my side, including close family friends.
To my surprise, a familiar lady in a green abaya and a lighter shade hijab walked towards me, a warm smile on her face.
"Josie Aunty?" I referred to her by the name that she was famously known for in our family. "Assalam Alaikum!" I stood up, stunned at her presence.
"Walaikum Assalam! Oh Hoor!" Her eyes filled up as she looked at me. "Ma Sha Allah! You look beautiful! May Allah protect you from evil eyes. Ameen."
I smiled at her. "Ameen. Thank you! I'm so happy that you could make it!" I hugged her.
"If I'd missed another enough of Ray's daughter's wedding, he'd never have forgiven me." She laughed. She glanced around. "Let me go and say hello to Mrs Tariq and Anabia." She gave me another hug before walking away towards where my mother and paternal grandmother stood talking to a few close friends of Dado's.
I sat back down on the swing, right as Yamna approached me. "Hey, Yum-Yum."
Wearing an emerald green floor-length dress with silver embroidery on the neckline, Yamna looked adorable- Ma Sha Allah. She walked close and whispered. "I have something for you."
"What is it?" I asked, smiling.
She handed me a small folded card, before rushing away with a small giggle.
Confused, I glanced down at the card and unfolded it.
Bohat pyari lag rahi ho, Ma Sha Allah.
-F
*You look beautiful, Ma Sha Allah.
With a gasp, I looked up. He couldn't be here! He shouldn't be here! I glanced around, panicked. But then I saw Aizah Appi near the entrance, giving me a knowing grin as she stood beside her mother and Hareem Khalla. Dressed in a pink maxi dress with an orange lehenga, my Nand looked stunning, Ma Sha Allah. Her hair was in a braid, entwined with gajray. She held up her hand, and I saw her holding another folded card between her index and middle fingers. She called Ifra over and asked her to hand it over to me.
Hareem Khalla's daughter came over, dressed in a long yellow kameez with golden embroidery and an emerald green chudidar. "Assalam Alaikum! Ma Sha Allah, you look beautiful, Hooriya Appi. Or shall I say 'Bhabi'?"
"Walaikum Assalam. Thank you!" I stood up to hug her. "So do you, Ma Sha Allah."
"Aizah Appi wanted me to give you this." She handed me the folded card, before nodding at me and rushing away to talk to Haya.
I unfolded the card again.
Sadqay jaaon.
-F
*I can sacrifice myself for you.
I felt my cheeks warm up and I tried not to smile.
Haya approached me, eyebrows raised. Wearing a maxi dress that had a beautiful mixture of blue and purple, along with golden embroidery, Haya looked stunning, Ma Sha Allah. Mama had chosen this colour for her, knowing well that this aulaad of her preferred darker colours.
I hid both the notes in my fists, as I met her gaze. "What?"
"Are you messaging Farhaan Bhai?"
"Not in the modern sense." I replied. "And I'm not messaging him."
She dropped another folded note in my lap. When I looked up at her wide eyed, she grinned. "Dulhe sahab is feeling bechain."
*"Dulhe sahab: Mr Groom
Bechain: restless.
Again, my cheeks turned warm as my twin sister walked away. I unfolded the third note.
Befitting the name, what the beauty this bride! (Ma Sha Allah)
-F
I stood up. The ceremony was yet to start, and I had to find out the truth behind this beforehand. I headed into the house from the marquee that was set up for the mehndi.
The house was empty apart from the female staff. Dada Jaan had gone over to our house for these two nights, and Papa had only come to make sure that the catering was handled well- and he had remained strictly outside to talk to the catering company manager.
I headed up to my room and picked up my phone before dialling his number. "Assalam Alaikum."
"Walaikum Assalam! I'm honoured to receive a call from the main VIP of this wedding." He answered.
"How do you know how I look?"
"Mere jasoos hain wahan, jo mujhe sirf meri dulhan ki khair-o-khabar pohanchatay hai." He replied, simply.
*"I have spies there, who tell me all the details regarding only my bride."
"You know that seeing me till the wedding isn't allowed, right?" I walked over to the window.
"I didn't see you. I was told about how you looked, and the rest was all my imagination."
I smiled. "I have to go now. It's time for my mehndi ceremony."
"Call me when the ceremony is done, and the non-family ladies have left."
"And if I don't?" I heard a hint of flirtatiousness in my voice.
"Then I'll come there, and I won't be discreet about it."
"Is that a promise?" I giggled.
"Is that a challenge?"
"I'm afraid you won't be able to live up to this challenge." I said.
"Then I'm afraid that you don't know all that I'm willing to do for you." His voice was low and so damn s*xy. "But if I win, you'll have to go out with me tonight."
"Go out where?"
"Wherever I want."
"Well, since I know that it's not going to happen, sure. Whatever."
"You have no faith in me, do you Hoor?"
"Or maybe, I'm challenging you because I do have faith in you, and I myself want you to come here and take me away."
"Mukar to nahin jao gi baad main?"
*"You won't go back on this later?"
"Aap aake dikhayein, main aapke saath jaake dikhaongi. Yeh mera vaada hai aapse."
*"You just come, and I'll go with you. This is my promise to you."
Feeling excited beyond words, I ended the call a few seconds later and headed downstairs.
*
I'd boldly challenged him, but I felt nervous as the ceremony drew to an end.
He won't come. We were both just messing around.
Right?
Feeling practically sick with having mithai repeatedly stuffed in my mouth, I almost sighed loudly in relief when the ritual was over. And after dinner was done, the ladies gradually began to say goodbye and leave.
Only family remained behind, including Farhaan's side, and everyone began helping in clearing things up.
"Hoor, go inside, beta. You must be exhausted." Mama told me.
"Assalam Alaikum, everyone!"
I froze in my steps as I heard the voice over the DJ's microphone. Everyone looked towards the DJ stand in surprise.
"Technically, I didn't break any rules by being here, since the ceremony is over." Farhaan Faiz, the groom, stood next to the amused DJ, dressed in white shalwar-kameez.
"Then I'll come there, and I won't be discreet about it."
"Hoor, please join me up here." Farhaan's gaze travelled around the marquee until it landed on me.
I was blushing hard and I felt that my knees wouldn't be able to hold me up much longer, but Haya and Ifra's voices made me walk forward. As I approached the stand, Farhaan held out his hand and I placed my hand into his. He helped me up and then placed a hand on the small of my back.
"If it's okay with the elders of our families, I would like to take my bride out tonight." He spoke on the microphone.
"Farhaan..." Anaya Aunty approached the stand, looking startled.
"Anaya, my dear, if you have no problem, we don't either." Dado also walked forward. "The Nikah has been done, and no ritual or tradition is bigger than that."
"Aap aake dikhayein, main aapke saath jaake dikhaongi. Yeh mera vaada hai aapse." I'd promised him. And I was certainly not a promise-breaker. "I will go with him."
Farhaan looked at me with a smile.
Anaya Aunty relaxed and also smiled before nodding.
"Anabia Aunty, aapki ijazat hai?" Farhaan glanced towards my mother.
*"Do I have your permission?"
My stunned mother simply nodded, but I saw the ghost of a smile on her face.
"I hope you all enjoyed my bride's mehndi ceremony. I hope you enjoy the rest of the wedding events as well. In Sha Allah. Allah Hafiz and good night." Farhaan handed the microphone back to the DJ, before leading me off the stage.
"Your act could have given random desi aunties a heart attack." I whispered as Farhaan led me towards the front of the house, using the side entrance that had been left open for the easy access for the guests. Obviously, there were guards around to ensure the safety of everyone.
"I told you I wouldn't be discreet." He shrugged, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
As we entered the shadow beside the house, he leaned down and softly placed his lips against mine. I reached up and placed my hands on his cheeks, the scent of henna emanating strongly from them. For a while, we kissed in the shadow, the mehendi bride and her bold groom.
Then hand-in-hand, we continued walking towards the front of the house. He kissed the side of my head as we approached his car.
"It's so tempting to skip the other ceremonies. I wish I could just take you straight to our honeymoon." Farhaan pressed his forehead against mine.
"Why don't you?" I grabbed the lapels of his kameez.
"Is that another challenge?" He grinned before our lips met again.
Suddenly, we heard the sound of the car, and I turned my head almost instinctively to have a look as I leaned against Farhaan. I gasped and I barely had a chance to move away before the car door opened and Papa stepped out from the driving seat. Farhaan followed my gaze and he stepped aside, almost out of respect.
"You said you wouldn't be discreet. Now's your real test." I whispered to Farhaan.
Papa glanced our way, a frown appearing on his face. Shaking his head, he continued walking. "I don't want to know."
Farhaan cleared his throat. "Uncle, I would like to take Hoor away for a while."
Papa glanced at him in a way an interrogating police officer would look at a suspect.
"Is that okay?" My husband stood tall as he asked.
Papa glanced at me, but I dropped my gaze. Confident or shy, bold or bashful, I didn't yet have it on me to face him after basically being caught making out with my husband by my father.
There was silence for a few long moments, which forced me to look up at Papa.
"Wasn't this a female-only event?" Papa crossed his arms over his chest.
And it occurred to me that my father could actually be mad about Farhaan basically gate crashing a female-only event, even if it was after the non-family ladies had left.
Oops.
*
You all know Rehan, do you think he is really mad about this?
The wedding festivities have officially begun!
Thoughts and comments?
Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!