The Khan Haveli was bustling with guests, children running around, elders chatting in the courtyard, and servants darting through the crowd with trays of snacks. It was a family gathering, the kind that brought together distant relatives, friends, and even neighbors. Murtasim sat with his cousins in the shaded veranda, keeping an eye on the lively atmosphere. His gaze, however, kept drifting toward Meerab, who was on the other side of the garden, surrounded by a group of women and children.
Meerab was her usual self—graceful and charming, laughing as she engaged with the little ones. There was something about her that seemed to draw everyone in, children especially. Murtasim watched as she crouched down to speak to a little boy who couldn’t have been more than six years old.
The boy—Rizwan—had been brought to the gathering by one of their distant relatives. He was an adorable, mischievous kid with a mop of curly hair and bright, inquisitive eyes. But what Murtasim didn't anticipate was the look of complete infatuation that crossed the boy’s face the moment he locked eyes with Meerab.
The women around them cooed and smiled, finding the boy’s attention toward Meerab endearing. Murtasim, however, felt a strange tug in his chest—a sensation he wasn’t used to.
“What is he doing?” Murtasim muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the scene unfolding before him.
“Who?” his cousin, Naurez, asked, following his gaze. “Oh, look at that! Rizwan’s already in love with your wife. That’s cute.”
“Cute? You call that cute?” Murtasim scoffed, his brow furrowing as he watched Rizwan inch closer to Meerab. The boy had taken her hand and was now beaming up at her with an innocent but determined look.
Meerab smiled warmly at the boy, kneeling down to his level. “Aww, you’re such a sweet boy, Rizwan. What are you saying?”
“I will marry you one day, Meerab,” Rizwan declared boldly, puffing his chest out. “You are so pretty, just like a princess!”
The women around them giggled, some covering their mouths to stifle their laughter. “Oh, how adorable!” one of them gushed. “He’s already making promises!”
Murtasim’s jaw tightened, his grip on the armrest of his chair growing firm. Ridiculous! The boy was six years old, but the way he was looking at Meerab—like she hung the moon and the stars—was enough to irritate Murtasim.
“Did he just—” Murtasim began, but his words were lost as Naurez clapped him on the shoulder.
“Relax, bhai. He’s a kid. It’s all harmless fun.”
But Murtasim wasn’t so sure. His eyes narrowed further as Rizwan continued to shower Meerab with compliments, and what’s worse—Meerab was encouraging him! She laughed, playfully ruffling his hair and saying, “Oh, you’re such a little charmer, Rizwan. Maybe one day when you’re older.”
*Maybe one day?* Murtasim thought, his temper rising. *What does that mean?* He shot up from his chair, startling Naurez.
“Murtasim, where are you going?”
“I need to take care of something,” Murtasim replied shortly, already marching toward Meerab and her little admirer.
---
Meerab glanced up as Murtasim approached, his expression serious. She gave him a questioning look, but before she could ask anything, Rizwan turned to face him, his little face lighting up with curiosity.
“Murtasim, have you met Rizwan?” Meerab asked, standing up and placing a gentle hand on Rizwan’s shoulder. “He’s been keeping me company.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Murtasim said, his tone clipped. He eyed the boy, who was still holding Meerab’s hand like he owned it. “I heard you made some interesting plans for the future.”
