Echoes of Heartbreak- meerab and murtasim 's fate.

chapter -20

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"What's happening here?"

Shahnawaz asked, his deep voice calm yet authoritative.

Meerab, ever the first to defend herself, darted toward him, her expression a mix of righteous indignation and exasperation.

"Mamu, he drank my tea!"

she exclaimed, pointing at Mahir with an accusatory glare.

Mahir leaned casually against the wall, feigning innocence.

"Her name wasn’t written on it,"

He is added with a smirk, his nonchalant attitude only fueling Meerab’s irritation.

"I made it for myself, and you drank it. Chor kahi ka!"

Meerab shot back, her hands on her hips, daring him to deny it.

Mahir straightened, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Did you just call me?"

"A thief!"

Meerab said defiantly, her chin jutting out as she met his gaze head-on.

Before Mahir could retaliate, Anwar entered the scene, his brows furrowed with mild amusement.

"Okay, stop. Let’s sort this out,"

he said, raising his hands to diffuse the situation.

Anwar turned to Mahir, his voice firm but patient.

"Mahir, say sorry to Meerab."

Mahir looked at him in disbelief.

"Sorry? For a cup of tea?"

His tone was incredulous, as if such a demand was utterly unreasonable.

Meerab crossed her arms, shaking her head.

"No, Baba. I don’t want his sorry."

Mahir smirked.

"Good, because I didn’t want to say sorry either."

Anwar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Then?"

he asked, his tone weary but laced with curiosity.

Meerab raised her chin, her lips curling into a triumphant smile.

"I want him to make tea for me,"

she declared.

"No way,"

Mahir said, straightening his posture, his indignation clear.

Anwar’s gaze sharpened, and he gave Mahir a pointed look.

"Mahir, go and make tea for Meerab."

"Baba—"

Mahir started, but Anwar’s unwavering stare silenced him. With a resigned sigh, Mahir muttered,

"Fine,"

and turned toward the kitchen, gesturing for Meerab to follow.

Anwar watched them leave, his expression softening. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned against the wall, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. He had missed such moments with his children—these petty, endearing fights that held more love than anger.

Shahnawaz, standing beside him, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Anwar nodded silently, his heart aching with both regret and hope.