❝When love is at its best,
One loves so much that
He cannot forget.❞
The years he spent loving her from afar. She was out of his league, also for her, he was non-existent.
Now, when he is a successful Movie star, will his first love find a happy en...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Fareeha instructed the maids to arrange the breakfast at the table. Hajra encouraged her to sit for breakfast, and she will take charge. Fareeha smiled and nodded. Adjusting her net dupatta on her left shoulder, she walked to the dining table, checking everyone's side. And giving more attention to Sarfaraz's side. Hadiya sat in the head chair, and he would sit to her right.
Sarfaraz climbed down the stairs and paused, noticing Fareeha pouring juice into his glass. He pushed back the neckline of his navy blue tee, looking around the empty large hall. Swiftly, he descended and tip-toed towards her.
Oblivious, Fareeha kept the glass and leaned to pick a cutlery when Sarfaraz grabbed her from behind.
"Ah—"
He pressed his palm against her gaping mouth. Fareeha couldn't respond. He was too fast to lift her off the ground and walked backward. She kicked her feet in the air as he pulled her.
Taking her behind the dense long curtain, he pinned her to the wall. Fareeha stared wide-eyed and her jaw dropped. Sarfaraz smirked, holding her arms, and leaned.
"Ass, someone will see us."
"So? We are husband and wife."
Fareeha rolled her eyes, - "Dude, still. Haya or Aunty—will be so embarrassing."
Sarfaraz shrugged, - "Which century do you live in? Haya knows what happens after marriage." He stretched his arm, placing a hand next to her, - "For your information, everyone thinks, everything happened between us." He explained matter-of-factly. Fareeha lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning a pinkish hue.
Sarfaraz admired her closely, and a shy smile grew.
"You know what, I always thought you had a languor type shakal."
Her smile dropped. She glared at him.
"Don't get me wrong—I mean—"
"Leave my hand, ass, I have other th—"
"Listen, na, dude," Sarfaraz pinned her to the wall again, - "But I was wrong. Listen to the whole thing, na."
Fareeha pressed her lips, - "And, I thought you were Ass face, and I was right." She was about to leave, but he held her elbow.
"And that is the face you fell in love with, right?" He teased her.
Fareeha twisted her arm and freed from his grip, - "No, I hate you." She snapped, throwing her dupatta behind her neck, then swished it on her shoulder.
"But I don't hate you." He pulled her back into the curtain, - "How can I tell you, that—I am addicted to you, your presence and all the silliness? And that—"
"Fareeha, beta, where are you?" Hadiya's voice rang through the high walls. Fareeha flinched out of Sarfaraz's grip. He hit the wall with his fist, grimacing. She stifled her smile and rushed from there.
