𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆

➊⓿ ᴀ ꜱᴜʙꜱᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇ

Mirha's POV:

As we pulled up to our destination, I couldn’t help but feel a knot in my stomach. The car rolled to a stop in front of a massive gate, and Saba Appi and Anum were the first to step out. They reached for me, offering their hands, and helped me out. My dress was so heavy that I stumbled slightly, my feet struggling to carry the weight.

When I finally lifted my head, my breath hitched in my throat. Before me stood a mansion so grand and beautiful that I was momentarily stunned. Mashallah! I had never seen anything so magnificent in my entire life. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Do you like our home?" Saba Appi asked with a warm smile, her voice breaking me out of my daze. I nodded quickly, trying to hide the awe in my voice. "Mashallah, it's beautiful," I managed to say.

She smiled wider. "You'll discover even more beauty inside," she said, leading me towards the entrance. My eyes searched the space, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Are you looking for someone?" Haroon's teasing voice snapped me back to the moment. He wiggled his eyebrows at me in a playful manner, and I quickly looked away. I didn’t want to answer or acknowledge his teasing. The truth was, I wasn’t sure if I was looking for him—or trying to avoid him.

"Oh, come on, Bhabi," Haroon continued with a laugh. "He's your husband now. You don’t have to be shy."

The word Bhabi startled me. It felt strange, almost wrong. Husband? I couldn’t think of him that way, not yet, maybe not ever. This wasn’t the marriage of my dreams—it was a transaction, forced by circumstances neither of us wanted.

Sensing my discomfort, Saba Appi stepped in. "Haroon, stop teasing her. She needs time to settle in," she gently scolded him. Haroon nodded but didn’t lose his smile. "I get it, I do. But, Bhabi, remember, I’m like a brother to you. If Arham Bhai says or does anything to upset you, you just come and tell me. I’ll stand up for you, no matter what." His grin stayed intact, but his words were sincere.

Tears pricked my eyes. I had always longed for a brother, someone who would look out for me, someone who cared. And here he was, offering me that support. I bit back the tears and managed to smile weakly. "Thank you," I whispered softly.

Haroon’s kindness warmed me, but the warmth faded as I noticed movement from the corner of my eye. I glanced up and saw Arham Bhai approaching us—Allah, what am I doing? It was challenging for me to address him by his name, but I had to get used to it. I couldn't call him Bhai anymore he was my husband now.

Arham’s cold, hard stare sent a chill down my spine. He didn’t say a word to me, only turned to Saba Appi when she spoke. "Arham, come with us. There are some marriage rituals you need to perform," she said, gently motioning for me to sit on the couch. But he was quick to shut her down. "I don't want to participate in any rituals, and please don't force me to. I just want to be alone for a while," he replied, his voice edged with anger. He stormed off before anyone could say another word.

The room fell into an awkward silence. Fahad Bhai ran a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh, clearly frustrated by his outburst.

"Mirha, I’m sorry for his rude behavior," Saba Appi said softly, reaching for my hand. "But trust me, he will come around soon." Her voice was filled with kindness, but I could tell even she didn’t fully believe her own words. I forced a small, shaky smile in return. "I understand," I whispered. "It's difficult for him to accept me as his wife." Every word I said felt heavy with the truth I didn’t want to admit. How could I expect anything different when this marriage was forced on both of us?