Whispers Of The Heart

Chapter 35

Jo haath thama hai toh kaha tak jaoge?

Kya kainaat ki aakhri hadd tak saath nibhaoge, kya rakhoge mujhe apne mohabbat ke saye mein,

Kya har waqt mere saath chal paoge, jo haath thama hai toh kaha tak jaoge?

"Mujhe pehle hi pata tha! Isne isse koi shaadi nahi ki hai. Ye sirf humein dhoka de rahi hai."

They turned around to see Usman standing there; his face darkened with rage, and his eyes narrowed as if every word he was about to speak had been simmering within him, waiting to lash out. His gaze bore into Dinayah, heavy with accusation, a hint of disdain tugging at his mouth.

Dinayah's body froze; her breath caught in her throat. She felt as if her mind was wrapped in fog, unable to process the scene unfolding before her.

"Dinu," Haris took a tentative step forward. His tone was softer than their father's, but his brow creased. "What's going on here?"

"See it for yourself!" Usman bellowed, his voice echoing through the room. "You were justifying her, saying we should accept her, that she's happy in her marriage." His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. "And here she is—using this marriage as a trick to keep herself away." He crossed his arms, his glare intensifying. "So tell us, are you really married, or is this just a game you're playing to fool us?"

A single tear escaped Dinayah's eye, tracing a line down her cheek. Her heart twisted in pain. The disappointment, the pain—it was all too much. She had been prepared for the reality that her father would never truly understand her, but she hadn't imagined he would hurl accusations so openly or go to such lengths to question her integrity.

Arham stepped forward, his face calm but his eyes steely, unwavering. He reached down, taking her hand in his, his grip warm and steady. His heart ached seeing her distress, her hands limp and helpless by her side, as if drained of the strength that once defined her. He had kept his silence, not wanting to interfere, but her tears were like a flame that finally melted his restraint.

"That's enough, Mr. Usman," he said, his voice firm but controlled. His thumb stroked over the back of Dinayah's hand.

Usman bristled, his face contorting in anger. "You stay out of our family matters!" he snapped, his voice cracking with authority.

"Everything that concerns her matters to me." His gaze never wavered as he locked eyes with Usman. "She is my wife."

His voice remained unwavering. "Mr. Usman, with all due respect, this is my family matter."

His hand tightened around Dinayah's.

Usman's jaw clenched, his fists curling so tightly that his knuckles turned white. But he said nothing, his gaze darting around the room. There was no point in saying anything to him, that too in his own house.

"Aap Dinu ko galat samajh rahe hain," Zain spoke up, stepping forward. (You are misunderstanding Dinu.)

Usman barely glanced at his son, but his stare soon locked back onto Dinayah, unyielding, cold. She felt the weight of it bearing down on her.

"Leave it, Zain," she said softly, her voice trembling but determined. She had reached her limit, each word from her father striking a final blow. Her heart felt bruised, tired from trying to win a love that had only been given to her in fragments, pieces too broken to hold. She looked up, taking a deep, shaking breath as she wiped away her tears and took a step closer to her father.

"You want the truth?" Her voice rang out, clear and sharp, each syllable weighted with years of unspoken pain. "Then let me tell you everything."

Usman's expression darkened, but he stayed silent, his jaw ticking as she continued.