The sun was just beginning to set over Khan Haveli, casting an amber glow across the sprawling estate. The air inside the mansion was warm and calm, the serenity interrupted only by the occasional rustling of leaves from the garden. Yet, within the elegantly decorated walls, one man's heart was anything but calm. Murtasim Khan, the towering and confident head of the Khan family, was experiencing something he never thought he would-nervousness.
It had been a few weeks since his wedding to Meerab, and things weren't exactly going as planned. The contract that loomed between them had placed an invisible barrier, separating their hearts, their lives, and even their most basic interactions. Murtasim, however, hadn't anticipated how deeply he would fall for his wife. Every day, Meerab's stubbornness, wit, and sharp tongue only made him more infatuated with her. Her beauty was undeniable, but it was her fiery spirit and independence that captured his heart in ways he could never have imagined.
But there was a problem-a huge one. Meerab didn't feel the same. In fact, she barely tolerated his presence, making it abundantly clear that their relationship was nothing more than an obligation. Yet, Murtasim was nothing if not determined. He had won many battles in life, and this one? He was going to win her heart too, even if it meant embarrassing himself in the process.
---
The first attempt came in the form of flowers.
Murtasim had never been the type to buy flowers. He was more of a 'strong, silent protector' kind of guy, but desperate times called for desperate measures. That morning, after a conversation with Saba, who had gleefully suggested that "girls love romantic gestures," Murtasim found himself heading into the town's florist shop.
"Uh...I'll take the biggest, most romantic bouquet you have," Murtasim said, towering over the elderly florist who stared up at him with wide eyes.
"Biggest and... romantic?" she repeated, confused.
"Yeah, you know... roses. A lot of roses. Red ones. She likes red." Murtasim had no idea if Meerab liked red roses. For all he knew, she might hate flowers. But the shopkeeper didn't need to know that.
Twenty minutes later, Murtasim returned to Khan Haveli with a bouquet so large that it barely fit through the door. He felt a surge of confidence. This was a grand gesture, right? This would definitely win Meerab over.
He found her in the living room, sitting on the couch and flipping through a book, completely oblivious to his entrance. Clearing his throat dramatically, Murtasim stepped into the room, clutching the bouquet like it was a trophy.
"Meerab," he said, trying to sound suave, "I brought these for you."
Meerab didn't even look up. "Hmm?"
Murtasim's confidence wavered. "Flowers. I brought you flowers."
Now she looked up, and the expression on her face was far from impressed. Her eyebrows rose, and she glanced at the bouquet, then back at Murtasim. "Why?"
Murtasim blinked, thrown off by the simple question. "What do you mean 'why'? Because I thought you'd like them."
"They're huge," Meerab said flatly. "I don't even like flowers."
Murtasim's heart sank. "You... don't?"
"No," she said, standing up and walking toward the bouquet with a critical eye. "They make me sneeze."
*Great*, he thought. *I'm giving my wife allergies.*
Before he could come up with a clever response, Meerab reached out to take one of the roses, but in her haste, the massive bouquet wobbled unsteadily in his arms. Murtasim tried to steady it, but it was too late. The bouquet tipped forward, and in a horrifying slow-motion moment, the roses, leaves, and decorative ferns cascaded out of his arms and straight onto Meerab's head.
