The wind howled through the trees surrounding Khan Haveli, the vast estate still as grand and imposing as it had always been. Two years had passed since Meerab had left, two long, agonizing years since she had walked away from the life she had once known, from the man she had once loved-Murtasim Khan.
As she stood at the gates of the Haveli, clutching her daughter Meesam tightly in her arms, the memories of that fateful night played out in her mind like a broken record, one that she could never silence no matter how hard she tried. The night of Mariyam's *rukhsati*-the night her world had crumbled.
Meerab had never imagined that she would return to the Haveli, not after everything that had happened. But fate had a cruel way of bringing people back to the very places they sought to escape.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she approached the grand doors of the Haveli, her footsteps echoing in the silent night. She could see the flickering lights of the courtyard, the decorations that adorned the walls, the guests milling about. There was a celebration happening tonight-a wedding.
A knot formed in her throat as she took in the sight, realizing with a sickening certainty that this was not just any wedding. It was *his* wedding.
Her fists clenched at her sides as she whispered to herself, "So, he's marrying her." Haya. The name sent a wave of nausea through her. The woman who had ruined everything. The woman who had destroyed her life.
She had never expected to return to the Haveli like this. Not after she had left it in the dead of night, shattered and broken after what had happened between her and Murtasim. But she had a reason now, a reason that had kept her going when everything else had fallen apart.
Meesam stirred in her arms, her small fingers gripping Meerab's shawl tightly. Her innocent face, unaware of the storm brewing in her mother's heart, was the only solace Meerab had in this moment. Meesam, her daughter-their daughter.
Taking a deep breath, Meerab squared her shoulders and stepped through the grand entrance, her heart pounding with every step she took. The guests barely noticed her as she moved through the crowd, her eyes scanning the faces until they landed on him.
Murtasim.
He stood in the center of the courtyard, dressed in a traditional sherwani, looking every bit the regal and commanding figure he always had been. But something about him looked different-darker, more burdened. As if the weight of the past two years had carved a permanent mark on his soul.
But none of that mattered to Meerab. Not now. She had to face him, had to confront him, had to demand answers for everything that had happened.
"Meerab..." The voice came from behind her, soft but sharp.
She turned to find Maa Begum standing there, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the sight of her estranged daughter-in-law, and the small child clinging to her side.
"Ammi," Meerab greeted her, her voice low and tense.
"You... you came back..." Maa Begum's voice was barely a whisper, her gaze shifting between Meerab and the child in her arms. "Who is she?"
Meerab's heart clenched, but she kept her expression steady. "This is Meesam... my daughter."
Maa Begum's eyes widened in realization. "Murtasim's...?"
"Yes," Meerab confirmed, her voice hard as steel.
The older woman seemed to stumble back, her hand going to her chest as if she had been struck. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Before she could say anything more, the sound of Murtasim's voice filled the courtyard. He was speaking to Haya, who was standing beside him, her face lit with triumph and anticipation.
