(IT'S GONNA HAVE A LOT OF COUPLES)
In a village, where justice is scarce, a girl of 11 is married off due to a tragic misunderstanding.
Her 17-year-old husband, torn apart by his brother's murder, burdened by duty, becomes her unexpected protector...
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Aaj ka chapter likhte hue i was on the verge of breaking down. Guys, I'm seriously going through shit right now. Zindagi ne kutta karke rakh diya hai merko. (Tum log chapter enjoy karo🩷)
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
“Wo bas aati he hogi,” Almeer reassured Ahad and Zainab, who stood ready with snow sprays in their hands, anticipating Aynoor's arrival. Almeer positioned himself at the entrance, clutching a bouquet of lotuses, his heart pounding with both excitement and a touch of anxiety.
“Mujhe toh lagta hai teri shaamat aane waali hai. Jo behuda mazaak tumne kiya hai na uss bechaari k sath!” Ahad scolded, his tone serious but his eyes twinkling with mischief. Almeer laughed sheepishly, imagining the state Aynoor must be in after his little prank.
“Chup karja. Acha tum jaake dekho baaki ghar waale aagye hain na? Unse kehna sab character mai rahe,” Almeer instructed Ahad, who nodded and saluted playfully. “Ay! Ay! Captain,” Ahad responded before heading off to check on the rest of the family.
As Almeer stood there in front of the beautifully decorated garden gates, a sudden sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He rubbed his sweaty palms together, trying to shake off the unease that gripped him. He heaved out a sigh, attempting to calm his nerves, but couldn't quite rid himself of the sense that something was amiss.
Looking at the lotuses longingly for a couple more minutes, Almeer finally grew fed up with the wait. Deciding to take action, he pulled out his phone and dialed the driver's number.
“What the heck?!” he muttered, hearing the automated message informing him that the number was switched off.
Panic started to creep in, and he dialed the number again, hoping for a different outcome, but the response was the same. With bubbling frustration, Almeer quickly dialed Ali Baksh’s phone number. The call was picked up on the third ring.
"Salaam, Chote Khan," Ali Baksh's voice came through, as diligent and calm as ever.
“Walikum, Ali baksh Aynoor bibi abhi tak yaha kyu nahi paunhci? Sab khairiyat toh haina?”
»»————>
Her sobs filled the car as they neared their destination. The elderly driver, aware of Almeer's elaborate plan, glanced at Aynoor and sighed, seeing her condition. She was a complete mess—her eyes were bloodshot, and her hand, clutching her chest, shook badly.
He felt a pang of guilt for her distress but also a sense of relief, knowing she would love the surprise Almeer had planned for her.
For Aynoor, it was the first time in her entire life that she felt like her existence was being ripped apart. Her heartache was palpable.
‘Mere Maula, Khan ki hifazat karna,’ she prayed silently, her sobs slowly diminishing but her anguish still evident.
‘Allah ji, aap jaante haina mera Khan k liawa koi nahi hai?’ she questioned her Lord, her eyes shedding rivers of tears.
