Welcome to the heartwarming tale of Roshni and Saad, a love story that will leave you feeling uplifted and inspired. In a world that can sometimes seem too dark, their journey is a shining reminder of the power of love, kindness, and compassion.
Joi...
Saad turned around, startled by the sudden presence of Aaliya and Amir. Their expressions—wide-eyed and unreadable—suggested both surprise and disapproval. Aaliya broke the silence, her voice calm but laced with authority.
"What are you doing here, Saad?" she asked, her sharp gaze fixed on him.
Behind Saad, Roshni's anxious eyes peeked through the doorway, waiting for his response. He hesitated for a moment but then stood tall, replying with an ease that belied the tension in the air.
"I came here to meet Roshni," he said casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Amir's face darkened, his brows knitting together as the temperature in the room seemed to drop. He stepped closer to Saad, his voice colder than ice. "Why?"
The single word carried the weight of suspicion and anger, his fists clenching at his sides. Saad remained steadfast, meeting Amir's glare with a calm but firm expression.
"Because she is my friend, and I care about her," Saad replied with conviction.
Amir's reaction was instantaneous. Fury overtook him as he grabbed Saad's arm, his grip tight and unforgiving, and pulled him out of the ward. The door slammed shut behind them as Amir shoved Saad roughly into the corridor. Saad stumbled but regained his balance just as Asad appeared, concern etched across his face.
"Abbu, what's going on?" Asad asked, stepping between Saad and Amir, his confusion evident.
Amir pointed a shaking finger at Saad, his voice low but deadly. "Stay away from my daughter."
His words struck Saad like a hammer, but before he could respond, Amir turned on his heel and stormed back into the ward, the door slamming shut again.
Inside the ward, Aaliya walked over to Roshni, her face soft with concern. Sitting beside her daughter, she gently took Roshni's hand in hers and asked, "Why did he come here?" Her tone was calm but probing, searching Roshni's eyes for the truth.
Roshni shifted uncomfortably under her mother's gaze, her voice barely a whisper as she replied, "Ammi, he just came to meet me... to check if I was okay."
Aaliya tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you have feelings for him?" she asked suddenly, her curiosity cutting through the tension in the room.
Roshni's heart skipped a beat at the question. Taken aback, she struggled to form an answer. "Ammi, I... I don't exactly know what I feel for him," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly as she avoided eye contact.
At that moment, Amir reentered the ward, his expression much softer than it had been moments ago. He walked over to Roshni, his stern demeanor giving way to a fatherly tenderness. Placing a gentle hand on her head, he asked, "Roshni dear, how are you feeling now?"
Roshni managed a small smile. "Alhamdulillah, Abbu, I'm fine," she said softly.
Amir straightened, his tone shifting back to one of authority. "Good. Once you're discharged, we'll start looking for a suitable match for you." His words were firm, leaving no room for debate.
Roshni's eyes widened in shock. "But Abbu, I don't want to get married right now," she protested, her voice tinged with desperation.
Before Amir could reply, Aaliya intervened, her tone questioning but resolute. "Amir, why this sudden decision? Is it because of Saad?"
Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Amir faltered momentarily, his fingers fidgeting—a rare display of vulnerability. "No, no, it's not about him," he replied hastily. "I just think it's time for Roshni to settle down."
"But Abbu—" Roshni began again, only to be cut off by Amir's raised hand.
"No buts, Roshni. This is my decision, and it's final," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. Roshni's shoulders slumped in resignation, her sadness palpable as she nodded silently.
Outside, Asad caught up with Saad, who stood near the exit, his jaw tight with frustration. "What happened inside?" Asad asked, his concern for both his sister and his best friend evident.
Saad exhaled heavily, recounting the events with a mix of anger and disbelief. When he finished, Asad ran a hand through his hair, his own frustration bubbling to the surface.
"I warned you, Saad," Asad snapped. "But no, you had to go ahead and do what you wanted." His voice grew softer, tinged with worry. "Now what will Abbu do to Roshni?"
Saad shook his head, his thoughts consumed by Roshni's well-being. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm going to the masjid to pray for her recovery." Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Asad staring after him, bewildered by his sudden decision.
Saad's POV:
The masjid was quiet and serene, the faint sound of whispers and footsteps echoing through its walls. I walked to the wudu area, washing my hands, face, and feet with care, letting the cool water soothe my troubled mind. After drying myself, I placed my prayer cap on my head and stepped into the prayer hall.
I prayed two rakahs, focusing all my thoughts on Roshni's recovery and well-being. Afterward, I sat quietly, my lips moving in zikr, repeating the names of Allah as my heart searched for peace. Finally, I raised my hands in dua, pouring out my emotions in silence.
"Ya Allah," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Why do I feel this way for her? I have had many friends, and their sisters were always like family to me, but Roshni... she's different. Is this love, or is it something else? Please, Ya Allah, guide me."
I lingered in my supplication, asking for Roshni's health and happiness, before finally wiping my face with my hands. Rising to my feet, I walked out of the masjid, my mind slightly clearer.
Leaning against my car, I pulled out my phone, eager to distract myself. A notification lit up the screen—Roshni✨. My heart raced, a smile spreading across my face as I opened the text. Before I could read it, my phone buzzed with an incoming call.
"Where are you, Saad?" my father's stern voice came through the line.
"I'm busy right now, Abbu. Can we talk later?" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, eager to return to Roshni's message.
"Busy with what? Meeting Roshni?" he snapped, his voice laced with accusation.
My grip on the phone tightened. "How do you know I met her?" I asked cautiously, my pulse quickening.
"Amir called me," he said, his anger unmistakable. "He told me to teach you how to control yourself!"
I winced at his raised voice, holding the phone away from my ear for a moment.
"Anyway," he continued, his tone still sharp, "come home early this evening. We're having guests for dinner."
"Who?" I tried to ask, but he hung up before I could finish.
I stared at the screen, confusion and unease bubbling within me. Who were these guests, and why now?
