Irfan POV...
We settled on a bench in the garden, and I sat beside her. She was crying, her shoulders trembling with each sob. I had warned myself not to get physical with Rohit, so a comforting hug was off-limits, even though I desperately wanted to hold her and wipe away her tears.
I didn’t have a handkerchief, but I did have my muffler. I handed it to her, hoping it might bring some comfort. She took it and used it to gently dab her tears and clean her nose.
I watched her with a soft smile as she looked up and caught my eye. The absurdity of the situation made me chuckle. To my surprise, she began to giggle too, the sound of her laughter blending with mine.
In that moment, the tension of the day seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shared, light-hearted connection.
She turned to me with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Why did you cause all this trouble? Have you fallen in love with me?”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “No way.”
She looked at me, puzzled. “Then why go through all this for me?”
I smiled gently. “Because I care about you, Mrs. Malik. But please, don’t be mad at me.”
She sighed, “Alright, alright. Just tell me what happened.”
I took a deep breath and began explaining. “In the principal’s office, I called you my girlfriend because, honestly, that’s how I feel. I wanted to stand up for you and show that I’m serious about us. Rohit and I had a disagreement, and I couldn’t just stand by when he disrespected you.”
Her eyes softened as she listened. “I see. Thanks for clearing that up.”
I reached out and took her hand gently. “No problem. Just promise me you won’t stay angry.”
She gave a small, appreciative smile. “Okay, okay. I won’t stay mad. And… thanks for everything.”
We shared a light-hearted moment, the earlier tension easing into something more comfortable and reassuring.
She started laughing, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, really? I’m so proud of you. You did a great job!”
After a while, Zeba arrived.
“Hey, Nayla, are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m fine,” I reassured her.
I turned to Zeba. “Hey, Zeba, come sit with us.”
She nodded and joined us. We spent the time chatting and laughing about funny things, enjoying the unexpected turn of events. It turned out to be one of my best days with Nayla Khan.
When it was time to say goodbye, Nayla gave me her number so I could text her anytime. She mentioned it was for notes, since I was suspended for a week and needed to keep up with schoolwork. I couldn’t resist teasing her, thinking about how I’d annoy her with messages.
**Time Skip**
**Message from: Future Husband**
“Hey Mrs. Nayla, are you missing me? I’m missing you so much… Your future husband.”
**My Reply**
“Hey jerk, don’t call me Mrs. Malik. I might just kill you!”
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**Message from: Future Husband**
“Hey Nayla, can you meet me at Café XYZZ? I need to discuss some topics from the previous lecture that are still over my head.”
