Nayab, a brilliant and meticulous MBBS student, possesses a mind built for calculations and precision. Her dreams are set on excelling in her medical career, leaving no room for frivolities or romantic distractions. Meanwhile, Danish, a vivacious an...
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The air in the living room was really uncomfortable. Gulshan and Haider were sitting side by side on the sofa, Danish settled right in front of them on a single couch. Nayab was seated on one of the chairs of the dining table with her injured leg resting on another chair. With a worried frown, she watched her father scrutinize Danish under his calculative eyes.
"Name?" Haider finally spoke in an authoritative tone.
Danish cleared his throat. "Danish. Danish Vaziri." Nayab was impressed at how confident he sounded.
"What do you do for a living?"
"I am a wedding planner." Danish answered.
"Wedding planner, huh!" Haider thoughtfully said, "in which company do you work?"
"Felicity." Danish told him.
Haider tried to remember where he'd heard the name of the company.
"They planned Simran's wedding." Nayab added.
Haider nodded. "What exactly do you do there? What is your designation?"
Nayab smiled subtly at how interrogative her father was being. "He is the owner, papa."
Gulshan and Haider, both, were surprised. But they masked it up quickly.
Before the conversation could continue any further, the doorbell rang. Danish awkwardly stood and went to open the door.
"Dan sir, I got your clothes." A British man, who was clearly an employee of Danish, said and passed him a bag.
Nayab groaned silently and looked at her parents who looked a little mad again.
"Why does he need his clothes at your house?" Haider's voice boomed as soon as Danish closed the door after taking the bag.
"Umm," Nayab nervously chuckled, "I couldn't walk so I had asked him to stay with me."
Before Haider could get more angry, Gulshan decided to pipe in. "I think..I need a cup of tea. Would you have some, sweetheart?" She asked her husband.
Haider sighed loudly, controlling his irritation. "Yes."
"Nayab?" Gulshan asked, standing up.
"No." Nayab said.
Gulshan then looked at Danish still standing near the door. "You?"
"No, aunty, thank you. I think I should take a leave now." He scratched the back of his neck.
"No, stay for tea." Gulshan insisted.
He nodded helplessly. Then he took back his seat on the couch, expertly avoiding Haider's piercing gaze.
"Where are the tea leaves?" Gulshan asked from the kitchen.
