The wedding hall had quieted down. Most guests had left, leaving only close family, a few friends, and the catering staff clearing away plates and glasses. The soft music in the background now felt more like a hum than a celebration.
Zulfishan sat beside Aabi on the stage, her heavy bridal dress weighing her down, but her thoughts were heavier. She kept glancing at him, noticing how his smiles for the remaining guests were polite but tight—like they were hiding something.
When the last group of relatives said their goodbyes, Aabi leaned closer. “We should head upstairs. You must be tired.”
She nodded, but her heart was still restless. Whatever had happened outside, it wasn’t “nothing” as Aabi had claimed.
---
Upstairs in their private suite, Aabi closed the door and took a deep breath
