Khan mansion.

The mansion stood draped in celebration, every corner adorned with fresh flowers, glimmering lights, and flowing curtains that swayed gently with the breeze. A soft fragrance of roses and jasmine lingered in the air, mixing with the hum of excitement that filled the grand halls. Staff and family members rushed through the corridors, making sure every detail was perfect, not a single cushion out of place, not a single string light flickering.

Tomorrow was no ordinary day.

It was the nikkah of Ayeda and Samad - the pride and joy of the Khan household. Two hearts raised under the same roof, now beginning a new journey together. The entire mansion buzzed with anticipation, emotions running high as years of dreams and planning were finally about to bloom into reality.

This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a long-awaited moment for the Khan family, one of the wealthiest and most respected families in the region. But beyond the riches and reputation, this day mattered because it was about love, prayers, and promises made in silence, now ready to be spoken aloud beneath sacred vows.

And so, the night before the nikkah…

the house wasn't just glowing in lights,
it was glowing in blessings.

Ayeda and Samad’s marriage had been fixed years ago. A quiet promise sealed by their grandmother when Ayeda was just eighteen and Samad nineteen. Neither family objected.

Why would they?
For Zara and Ibrahim, Ayeda was no less than their own daughter. The thought of her becoming their daughter-in-law only brought them joy. She belonged to their home long before any wedding was planned, and the bond she shared with Samad had always felt effortless natural.

Of course, they had asked the two. They weren't forced. The proposal wasn't imposed. But when the question came, both Samad and Ayeda simply nodded, without hesitation or protest. There was no drama, just acceptance. Quiet, mutual, and comfortable.

As for Aliyah and Iqbal, they too were content perhaps even more so. After all, they wouldn’t have to send their daughter to a faraway home. She would remain right before their eyes, in the same house she had lived since childhood. And they knew...they deeply knew, how much Zara loved Ayeda. Their daughter would be safe, loved, and cherished.

But no one carried the weight of this arrangement more deeply than Iqbal.

He had laughed and smiled with everyone else shared their joy, nodded at blessings but only he knew what it meant to have his little girl so close… and still fear losing her.

A father’s heart is strange. It raises daughters with the full knowledge that one day, they’ll walk away into someone else’s home, someone else’s name, someone else’s world. And yet, it still dreams of holding on a little longer.

Iqbal had that dream too. Not the selfish kind just the quiet wish of a father who wanted to protect his daughter a little more, see her smile a little longer, and have her chai ready on the same table where she once did her homework.

So when fate offered him this rare chance to give her away without actually letting her go, he clutched it with trembling hands and a grateful heart. Ayeda would be married, yes. But she’d still be in front of his eyes. Still within reach.

That’s why when Zarian’s rishta had come months ago wrapped in sincerity, respect, and pure intention. Iqbal’s heart ached, but didn’t waver. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask for time. Didn’t even entertain a “what if.”

Because for him…

no matter how good the boy was,

no one else could take her away from him.

Not when life had finally offered him a way to keep her  as a daughter and a bride  under the same roof.
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Ayeda sat by the window, her hands adorned with deep maroon mehendi, the intricate designs still fresh, still fragrant like her thoughts. She gazed out into the quiet night, lost in the swirl of memories and unspoken feelings. Tomorrow, she would be a bride. But tonight… she was just a daughter, quietly holding onto her last few hours of girlhood.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s open,” she called gently, not turning around.

The door creaked, and there stood Iqbal (her abbu) holding two warm glasses of milk, just like he used to when she stayed up late during exams. She smiled instantly, the kind that reached her eyes.

She walked toward him and took a glass from his hand. Then, without a word, the two of them sat on her bed, side by side sipping in silence. A comfortable, familiar silence.

Ayeda rested her head on his shoulder like she’d done countless times before. And Iqbal, without missing a beat, began stroking her hair.

After a few quiet moments, he asked, voice barely above a whisper, “Do you think I was unfair? By not letting you choose your own groom?”

Ayeda lifted her head slightly and looked into his eyes.

“No, Abbu. How could I ever think that?” she said softly. “I’ve always known, every decision you’ve made for me was with love. And always for my good.”

Iqbal’s eyes softened. He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. Then pulled her into a tight embrace.

They stayed like that for a while father and daughter, wrapped in a cocoon of memories, love, and unshed tears.

Then Iqbal said, his voice thick with emotion, “Always remember, Ayeda… Abbu loves you.”

Ayeda smiled, teasing lightly, “More than Ammi?”

Iqbal chuckled, “Sorry, bacha… but no. Your Ammi comes first.”

Ayeda laughed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

Just then, a voice called from the hallway, laced with mock impatience, “Is this father-daughter emotional drama over yet, or should I come back after an hour?”

It was Aliyah.

Both Ayeda and Iqbal turned toward the door with amused expressions.

“No, it’s not over,” Ayeda declared dramatically.

Aliyah walked in, rolling her eyes playfully. “Enough, both of you. Ayeda, it’s your nikkah tomorrow, you need sleep. And you,” she pointed at Iqbal, “she’s not going anywhere. She’s staying in this house only. Why are you being so filmy and emotional?”

She walked over, kissed Ayeda’s forehead, and added, “Come on now. Both of you, rest. Big day tomorrow.”

With that, she ushered Iqbal out, and the door clicked shut behind them, leaving Ayeda with a small smile on her lips.

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Iqbal entered the room, his steps slower than usual. Aliyah followed behind, quietly observing him as he sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the dresser with a soft sigh.

“Why are you getting so emotional today, Iqbal? She’s not going anywhere. She’ll still be here, in this house, right in front of your eyes. I can’t even imagine what state you’d be in if she were marrying into some other family…”

Iqbal looked up at her, his face calm but his eyes betrayed the storm within.

“Baap hone ka sabse bada dard yeh hai, Aliyah…
Beti ko khud apne haathon se sajana padta hai…
aur phir uske sir se apna saaya hata kar kehna padta hai, ab woh kisi aur ki amanat hai.”

(“The greatest pain of being a father, Aliyah,
Is that you have to adorn your daughter with your own hands…
and then lift your hand off her head and say, now you belong to someone else.”)

Aliyah’s expression softened as she sat beside him, placing her hand gently over his.
“She’ll always be your daughter, Iqbal. No nikkah, no rishta, no distance can change that.”

Iqbal let out a bitter smile.
“I know that. But a father’s heart doesn’t follow logic, Aliyah. It only knows one thing apni beti ko apni aankhon ke saamne dekh kar hi sukoon aata hai.”

He looked away, his voice breaking slightly.

"Main bohot khudgarz baap hoon, Aliyah… Zindagi bhar doosron ki betiyon ko rukhsat hota dekha hai. Jab zindagi ne mujhe mauka diya apni beti ko shaadi ke baad bhi apne paas rakhne ka… toh main kaise mana kar deta? Kaise keh deta ke jao, meri duniya se door chali jao?"

( "I am a very selfish father, Aliyah… I’ve spent my life watching others send off their daughters. When life gave me a chance to keep my daughter with me even after her marriage… How could I refuse? How could I tell her to leave my world and go away?”)

Aliyah squeezed his hand softly.
“Then be grateful, Iqbal… Allah didn’t take her away from you. He’s giving you the blessing every father dreams of , to witness his daughter’s nikkah, without watching her leave.”

Iqbal closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if trying to hold onto that fragile comfort.
“Par phir bhi, Aliyah… sukoon nahi mil raha.”
(But still, aliyah I can't find peace)

Iqbal’s voice cracked as he stared blankly at the floor.
“Ek ajeeb si bechaini hai… aur ek dar. Aisa dar jo samajh ke bhi samajh nahi paa raha hoon.”

(There’s a strange kind of restlessness… and a fear. A fear that, even after understanding it, I still can’t truly understand.)

Aliyah frowned, shifting closer.
“Dar? Kis baat ka dar, Iqbal?”
(Fear? What are you afraid of iqbal?)

Iqbal’s gaze drifted distant, heavy. His next words came out like a confession whispered to the dark.
“Zarian ka…”

Aliyah’s brows furrowed, confused. “Huh? Kya matlab? Apko lagta hai kal woh tamasha karega nikkah mein?”
(What do you mean? Do you think he'll create a scene at the wedding tomorrow?)

Iqbal gave a hollow chuckle  the kind that hurts more than silence.
“Woh kuch nahi karega, Aliyah. Na koi shikayat, na koi tamasha. Aur mujhe isi baat ka dar lagta hai…”

(He won't do anything, aliyah. No complaints, no scene and that's exactly what I'm afraid of..)

Aliyah’s lips parted, but no words came out. The depth of his fear slowly dawning upon her.

He turned fully towards her now, clutching her hand  but this wasn’t a plea.

It was a father drowning, holding onto the last thing that tethered him to sanity.

“Maine dekha hai Zarian ki aankhon mein, Aliyah… Mohabbat bhi dekhi hai, aur dard bhi. Jab card dene gaya tha, toh uski aankhon mein, woh dard chhup nahi paaya…”

(I’ve seen it in Zarian’s eyes, Aliyah… I’ve seen love, and I’ve seen pain. When I went to give the card, he couldn’t hide that pain in his eyes…)

Iqbal’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to continue.
“Mujhe pata hai… woh kuch nahi karega. Lekin Aliyah… woh Allah ka banda hai. Woh usse apne dil ka haal sunata hai. Aur mujhe Allah ki azmaishon se dar lagta hai, Aliyah…”

(I know… he won’t do anything. But Aliyah… he’s a man of God. He shares the state of his heart with Him. And I’m afraid of God’s tests, Aliyah…)

His words trembled in the air.

“Woh mohabbat se shikayat nahi karega… woh dua karega. Aur mujhe darr hai, Aliyah… ke agar uske aansuon ne raasta dhoondh liya, toh phir Allah ke faisle badalne mein der nahi lagti…”

(He won’t complain about love… he’ll pray. And I’m afraid, Aliyah… that if his tears find their way, then it doesn’t take long for God’s decisions to change…)

Aliyah couldn’t respond. Because tonight, even her mother’s heart could feel the tremors of a father’s silent fear.
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Ayeda lay on her bed, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. Her mind was too full tangled with thoughts of tomorrow, of the life waiting on the other side of sunrise.

Everything was about to change.

Her bond with Samad… would change.

He had always been her constant, her best friend, her secret keeper, the one she could always count on. With him, there was comfort… familiarity.

But not love. Not the kind that makes your heart race or your stomach flutter. She had never felt that for him.

Still, she had said yes.

Not out of pressure  but out of trust. Trust in her family, in her upbringing, in the world they had created for her. A world where she never felt alone.

Her abbu and ammi… her taya abbu and taya ammi, they were her safe space. Her whole world was wrapped within the walls of this house. 

Like every girl… she feared letting go of her home, her room, her comfort. To walk into a new chapter, even with a familiar hand, was still terrifying.

But maybe… just maybe… love didn’t have to come first. Maybe it could come later.

And until then she would hold on to what she did have: trust, comfort, and the promise that no matter what… her family would never let her fall

As these thoughts slowly quieted her mind, sleep finally came to Ayeda gentle and heavy, like a blanket over her confusion.

But elsewhere, someone lay wide awake…

Not because sleep refused to come
but because his heart wouldn’t let it.

Zarian’s chest ached with a strange, unbearable stillness.

Tomorrow, she would become someone else’s
right before his eyes,
and he could do nothing to stop it.

Nothing… except burn quietly in a fire no one could see.

The world will dress in flowers and lights tomorrow…
But one heart will burn — alone, unseen, uninvited.

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