Forever His

Chapter 16: Wife

Shahmeer's POV

"So he's Rohail." I murmur to myself whilst coming down the stairs.

"Where is she?" Farjaad pops out of nowhere in front of me.

"She's coming. Go with your wife and her friend to bring her downstairs." And knock before you go in. She's in the groom's dressing room."

"Why is she in the groom-"

"Go."

This kid was a pain. 

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Farjaad had just texted me that they were coming downstairs.

The hall was ready and people were desperately waiting. People were still arriving but the main ones were here. 

I heard a sudden change in the music as it turned slow and soft. I looked up to see cameras flashing and a group of people coming through the door. Farjaad was standing on her right and her friend, Meerab I think was standing on the left. Farjaad's wife stood next to him as they walked down the aisle between the tables full of people. But she caught my eye.

A miracle in human form.  I could not help but marvel at the sheer perfection of her beauty. It was the inner radiance that shone from within, illuminating her every gesture and expression with a warmth and sincerity that touched my soul. With each step she took towards me, I felt the weight of a thousand dreams and agony we were going to face. Clad in intricate garments of rich silk and adorned with jewels that shimmered like stars in the night sky, she was the epitome of grace and elegance. Her dark locks cascaded in waves down her back, framing a visage so exquisite that it took my breath away. But as I gazed upon her, my heart heavy with resentment and bitterness, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disgust rise within me. 

She sat on the other side of the curtain and was covered with a veil for me to remove.

The scholar started speaking.

"....Kya apko yeh nikkah kubool hai?" (Translation: Do you agree to this marriage?)

The hall went into silence. I looked to see through the gap of the flower curtain to her looking in a certain direction. I followed her gaze to see her father staring straight back at her with emotionless eyes. She quickly turned her head back.

"Gi, kubool hai. Kubool hai. Kubool hai." (Translation: Yes, I agree. I agree. I agree.)

Applauds broke out in the hall and smiles on everyone's faces. Meerab and Farjaad's wife drew back the curtains revealing her. I got up and walked up to her. I lifted the veil and I was left dumbstruck.

Her face, like a canvas painted by the gods themselves, bore the delicate lines of perfection—skin as smooth as porcelain, lips like rose petals, and eyes that sparkled with the allure of a thousand stars.

But behind the façade of her stunning visage lay a darkness that chilled me to the bone—a darkness born of remorse. For she was not just a woman to be admired; she was the embodiment of all my fears and resentments, a symbol of my weakness. Her gaze, so captivating and enchanting, sent shivers down my spine. And so, as she sat before me in all her resplendent glory, I couldn't help but feel a surge of regret well up inside of me, consuming me.

"Hello My Wife." 

"Seriously Shahmeer?"

"You are my wife. You can regard me as your husband now."

"Gosh no. Never."

"You could make this a little more realistic, right love?"

She got up and embraced me, her face digging in my chest. The hug felt cold. But it would do for the public. My left arm wrapped around her waist and my other hand awkwardly sat on her head. 

She whispered in my chest. "By the way, thanks for saving me...again."

"Love, you'll get used to it." I say as I gently place a kiss on her head.

She looks up at me. "What was that for?"

"Acting love, don't worry."

We walked to the couch as I picked up her dress and the curtain was removed from infront of us. People came in turns to congratulate us. My wife didn't know half of them, so I had to introduce them. Zubair Ali walked up the stairs to the stage and I got up and shook his hand. 

"Congratulations you two."

"Thank you Sir."

Mahnoor got up from her seat and stood proudly infront of her dad.

"I won this time."

"You've only won one game, I won the rest. Don't get too ahead of yourself."

She sat back down and turned her head away. Game? What kind of game?

"Mr and Mrs Jafri, it's time for your photoshoot. Please follow me outside." Mahnoor looked glad that the photographer came so she could go. They clearly didn't have the most ideal relationship.

I held out my hand to Mahnoor and she politely took it and got up and linked her arm in mine. As we walked outside, the cool breeze hit my face. The weather was perfect. Just like the first day I met her.

"Ma'am, we will take Mr Jafri's pictures first whilst the stylists' touch your makeup and hair up. Is that alright with you?" 

"Yep, that's fine." She said with her gentle voice.

"It's Mrs Jafri by the way." I butt in. I liked when they said 'Mrs Jafri'. Solely to her. 

"Sorry Sir. Mrs Jafri, we will do Mr Jafri's photoshoot first, then your solo photoshoot and after we will do your couple one."

"It's fine, you can call me Mahnoor." Seriously? I did not understand this woman.

"No no." 

"She is Mrs Jafri and that's settled. Right, my love?" I turn and look down at her.

"Uh, yes. Of course." She shoots me a glare but I have to admit, anything she does with those beautiful eyes, makes anything a million times better than it already is. 

"Should we get started then?"

"Mhm." 

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My pictures turned out great and it didn't take too long either.

"Ma'am, please come with me." She says to Mahnoor who was getting her jewellery alligned.

I follow after them.