The wedding day had finally arrived — the house was glowing with fairy lights, garlands of roses, and the buzz of family members running around in embroidered kurtas and heavy sarees. The air smelled of henna and rosewater.
Sahil, dressed in a cream sherwani with a gold stole, paced nervously near the main entrance. Today my Inaya will be mine forever, he thought, a shy smile on his lips.
Meanwhile, Mahira moved around the house, helping the decorators, instructing the caterers. She peeked into Inaya's room to check if her sister needed help — but the room was empty. The bridal lehenga lay untouched on the bed. The heavy necklace glittered under the warm yellow light, but there was no sign of the bride.
A shiver of worry climbed up Mahira's spine. "Api?" she called softly. No answer. She checked the balcony, the bathroom — nothing. Her hands started to tremble. She ran downstairs.
She found her father speaking to Sahil's father in the living room. "Abbu… Inaya… she's not… she's not here," Mahira whispered, her voice almost breaking.
Her father turned sharply. "What do you mean?" he hissed.
"She's not in her room, Abbu. She's gone…" Mahira's throat closed up.
A silence fell over the room — a silence so heavy that it drowned the faint sound of wedding drums outside. Sahil's father's smile faded. He looked from Mahira to her father.
"Where is my daughter-in-law?" he asked, his voice low but dangerous.
Mahira's father dropped into the nearest chair. "She's gone. We… we don't know why. She didn't tell anyone. Maybe she—"
"Silence!" Sahil's mother snapped, but she didn't yet know the whole truth — only that there was trouble. "Fix it. The guests can't know. The baraat is here! Where is the bride?"
Mahira's father covered his face with his hands. "What will we do? How will we face everyone if they find out—"
Sahil stood frozen. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. "Where is Inaya? She promised me… she promised…" His hands shook. His father gripped his shoulders.
Mahira looked at Sahil — the way his eyes flicked with disbelief, the heartbreak washing over his face.
Then, in a sudden move, Sahil turned to his parents. "I can't do this. I can't marry someone else to cover up her mistake. I won't do this nikah with Mahira. She's… she's not my bride."
Mahira felt her knees weaken. Her father's head snapped up. "Please, beta… please… if the guests find out, our family's honor—"
"No!" Sahil shouted. "I can't. Mahira is Zayan's… he—" he stopped himself just in time. Sahil looked over his shoulder at Zayan, who stood behind him — fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes burning with pain and anger.
Zayan stepped forward. His voice was like steel. "Bhai, you will marry her."
Sahil turned, shocked. "Zayan, what are you saying?"
Zayan grabbed Sahil's arm, pulled him away from the elders. His words came out in a harsh whisper only for Sahil.
"Do it. Marry her. Right now. For our family. If the baraat leaves without a bride, people will laugh at us for generations. We will be humiliated forever."
Sahil's eyes widened. "But Zayan— you— you love her!"
Zayan's jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "It doesn't matter what I want. This is about our family's izzat, bhai. This is bigger than me, bigger than you. You have to do this."
Mahira stood behind them, trembling. She heard only bits — enough to understand. Her heart twisted as she looked at Zayan. His eyes met hers for a fraction of a second — eyes that silently begged Forgive me.
Back near the elders, Sahil's mother was whispering fiercely to Mahira's mother, still clueless about any secrets. "We can't let people suspect a thing. The girl will wear the veil. No one will know. After today, no one will ever question us."
Sahil stepped forward. His hands shook as he ran them through his hair. His eyes darted to Zayan, then Mahira — his brother's silent sacrifice felt like a stone in his chest.
Finally, he exhaled sharply. He nodded.
"I'll do it," Sahil said, voice hollow. "I'll marry Mahira."
The elders sighed in relief. The Maulvi was called inside quietly, the doors closed to the world outside — the drums still playing for a bride who would never come.
Mahira sat there, her eyes glassy with tears under the heavy veil. Zayan stood behind the curtain, fists clenched, eyes down — every muscle in his body fighting to keep him from screaming Stop!.
When the Maulvi asked, Mahira's lips trembled. She whispered "Qubool hai" three times, her words breaking like fragile glass.
Sahil said his "Qubool hai" too, his eyes dull, each word cutting deeper than the last.
When it was done, Mahira closed her eyes — her tears hidden behind the veil.
Zayan turned and walked away before anyone could see the storm raging in his eyes.
He would keep his promise. For now, he'd bury every feeling in the depths of his heart.
One day, maybe… but not today.
✨ End of Chapter Nine