SHIDDAT: Fated Couple

11-Sad Ending or Beautiful Begining?

Mohtaaj manzil ka toh nahi hai,
Ye ek tarfa mera safar.

Safar khoobsurat hai,
manzil se bhi.

卂尺卄卂几

The room is thick with tension, the air almost suffocating as Ibrahim's voice cuts through the silence, raw with emotion. "How could you do this to me, Arhan?"

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. For the first time in my life, I feel something close to guilt gnawing at the edges of my conscience. I've always prided myself on being unshakable, the one who never bends, never breaks. But as I stand here, with Ibrahim's eyes boring into me, I feel a crack in that carefully constructed armor.

I force myself to maintain my composure, to keep my voice calm, as if the accusations he's throwing at me aren't landing. "What are you talking about, brother?"

But Ibrahim isn't buying it. His voice rises, filled with a mix of rage and hurt that I've never heard from him before. "Don't play dumb, Arhan! You married the only woman I've ever loved, the only one I've ever laid eyes on with the intention of spending my life with! How could you do this to me?"

I can feel everyone's eyes on me, their gazes burning into my skin. I fight the urge to look away, to escape this moment. But there's no escaping this. Not now.

"Look, Ibbu, whatever happened that day was beyond my control," I say, my voice as steady as I can make it. "I didn't have a choice but to marry her."

Ibrahim's laugh is bitter, filled with disbelief. "You didn't have a choice? We always have choices, Arhan! You, of all people, know that better than anyone. The great Arhan Mirza, the business tycoon who bends the world to his will-don't tell me you didn't have a choice!"

His words are like knives, each one cutting deeper than the last. I've always had choices, haven't I? I've always been the one in control. So why does this feel different? Why does his anger feel justified, even though I'm the one who's supposed to be in the right?

"I'm sorry, brother," I manage, the words taste bitter on my tongue. "Trust me, I'm as guilty for marrying her as you are hurt by it."

But Ibrahim isn't done. He scoffs, his face twisting with disdain. "Tell me, Arhan, what made you marry her? You've never wanted a life partner, you've always despised the idea of marriage. You doubted her even before you met her! So why, Arhan? Why did you agree to marry her?"

I meet his gaze, forcing myself to hold it even as I feel the weight of my own guilt pressing down on me. "I did what I thought was right for the family."

And there it is-the truth. The truth that feels so hollow, so insufficient in the face of his pain.

"Enough, Arhan! Enough of your justifications!" Ibrahim's voice cracks, his anger giving way to something deeper, something more heartbreaking. "I wasn't dead, I was alive! You could have waited for me, but no, you all just swapped the groom as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Is that how little I matter?"

Before I can respond, Papa steps in, his voice firm yet heavy with regret. "It was my decision, Ibrahim. I convinced Arhan to marry her. This isn't his fault."

Ibrahim's face flushes with anger, his eyes narrowing as he turns his fury on our father. "Not his fault? You convinced him, and he just went along with it? You know what, Papa? It's all of your faults. None of you even tried to stop this sham of a marriage."