When Dreams meet Destiny

Chapter 25: The Farewell and a New Beginning

Maryam sat in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Dressed as a bride for the second time, she was a vision of elegance. The intricate embroidery on her red lehenga shimmered under the soft light, and her jewelry added an aura of regal beauty. The makeup was flawless, but it was her nervous yet radiant smile that truly made her breathtaking. Her nikaah had been completed few months ago, but today was her ruqsati. The reality of leaving her family, her home, and everything familiar weighed on her heart.

Her hands fidgeted with the ring Yahya had placed on her finger during their nikaah. She glanced down at her mehendi-less hands and smiled at the memory of how she had avoided it. Maryam had called Yahya a few days before her mehendi ceremony, hatching a plan. "Tell my mother you're allergic to mehendi," she had instructed. Yahya, confused but willing, played along. It was the perfect excuse, as Maryam herself disliked applying mehendi but knew her mother wouldn't listen otherwise. Yahya, who also hated the smell of mehendi, was more than grateful.

The farmhouse looked stunning that evening. Lights twinkled everywhere, reflecting off the well-manicured lawn. The function went exceptionally well—guests mingled, laughter echoed, and the delicious aroma of food filled the air. Everyone seemed to enjoy the lively atmosphere, but as the night progressed, the crowd thinned out. By the end of the event, only close family members from both sides remained.

In the ladies' section, Maryam sat on the stage, surrounded by her sisters and cousins. Her heart raced when she saw Yahya entering the room. The low murmur of conversations stopped, replaced by giggles and hushed whispers. He was dressed in a cream sherwani that fit him perfectly, his light brown eyes sparkling with happiness. His hair was neatly combed, his beard impeccably styled, and his dimples deepened as he smiled at the crowd.

Maryam couldn't take her eyes off him, and it seemed he couldn't stop looking at her either. For Yahya, the world faded into the background. She was all he could see—the woman who had become the center of his world.

He walked confidently toward the stage, greeting everyone with a polite "Assalamualaikum." His deep, composed voice sent shivers down Maryam's spine. She looked up at him, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Wa alaikumussalam," she replied, her voice barely audible but enough for him to hear.

He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You look beautiful."

Maryam blushed and lowered her gaze. "Not more than you," she murmured.

Yahya chuckled, his laughter deep and rich. He loved the effect he had on her and couldn't resist teasing her whenever he got the chance. Before he could say more, Fatima, Maryam's younger sister, stepped forward, blocking his path.

"Wait!" she said, her hands on her hips. "If you want to take my sister, you'll have to pay first!"

Yahya raised an amused eyebrow. "And how much is the fee?"

Fatima grinned mischievously. "One lakh—and no negotiations!"

Yahya laughed. "One lakh? Don't you think that's too much? Let's settle for fifty thousand."

Fatima shook her head dramatically. "We're the Qureshis! We don't settle for less. Plus, look at our family—Mashallah, we're huge. Fifty thousand isn't enough."

Yahya turned to Maryam with a playful look. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "What do you think?"

Maryam smiled and nodded. Yahya reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "One lakh it is," he said, handing it to Fatima.

Fatima's eyes widened in surprise. "I was joking, but since you're giving it so lovingly, I'll accept it." She stepped aside with a dramatic bow. "You're free to take your wife now."