𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟎𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟐

FAIZAN

The rumors took a few days but it died down.

Jack doing press and Farhan doing an interview was a huge help.

Ryan and I are still working on finding the real mastermind behind starting this rumor. The best way to find whoever that is by figuring out who wrote the first article.

Aside from that, today is finally the day I get to bring Arzo home.

After thousands of events- that’s an exaggeration- our wedding day is finally here.

We arrived at the banquet a few minutes ago and now I’m waiting at the stage for my bride, listening to whatever Farhan is saying.

Ryan, Jack and Finn also arrived a few minutes ago along with Henry- another good friend of ours and Ryan’s mentor. Ryan and Jack came with their younger sister- Bree- and Henry is accompanied by his daughter- Rose- who is also Bree’s friend.

Originally, I was going to invite them to Valima but after Rose and Bree helped us with the journalist and Arzo found out how the guys helped as well, she personally invited them.

“Wait, how many events were there?” Jack asks.

Farhan shrugs, “I don’t know. I don’t usually count. The wedding takes almost a month or two.”

“How are you feeling?” Finn asks me.

“Impatient.”

He chuckles, “never saw this day coming.”

“Tell me about it!” Farhan exclaims, “I was supposed to get married first.”

“To whom, exactly?” Ryan asks.

“A woman.”

Jack pats Farhan’s shoulder, “good answer, my friend.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation comes to a halt when Zahid bhai comes on the stage and tells us that Arzo is arriving.

“Good luck!” Finn and Jack say before they, along with Ryan, descend the stage to their table.

The lights of the banquet dim indicating the arrival of the bride.

I turn my attention towards the entrance, where she will be standing with her parents and sister.

My breath gets caught in my lungs as I settle my eyes on her.

She stands by the entrance, dressed in a beautiful traditional red lehenga adorned with golden embroidery. A red hijab wraps around her head, and a red net dupatta with golden embroidery is elegantly placed on her head. Her hands are decorated with bangles, and a tika adorns her forehead. With light makeup enhancing her natural beauty, she smiles at her parents before they start leading her towards me.

The crowd fades away in the background as I keep my gaze on her and she locks her gaze with mine, giving me her beautiful smile.

I step forward as she reaches the stage and hold out my hand. As soon as she places her hand- decorated with beautiful henna- in mine, our cousins, friends and siblings erupt in cheer making her smile widen as I gently pull her up on the stage.

Our gaze locks as we stand close to each other.

“You look beautiful, amar. Masha’Allah.”

Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as she signs, “thank you. You look good yourself, Masha’Allah.”

My lips form a small smile.