Forever His

Chapter 65: Decorations

Mahnoor's POV:

3 months later...

It's strange how quickly things become normal.

Three months ago, I was lying in a hospital bed with a cast on my arm and a head full of thoughts I couldn't untangle. Now, my arm is free, healed but still a little stiff, and my days feel as monotonous as clockwork.

I wake up in the morning, usually hearing the faint creak of Shahmeer's bedroom door as he steps out at the exact same time. Like it's rehearsed. I leave my room a few minutes later, and we both silently make our way to the dining table. Breakfast is always there, laid out by the house staff.. Nothing different.

We sit across from each other, eating without much conversation. Sometimes he glances up at me, and I glance up at him, but neither of us says anything beyond a sarcastic, "The toast is burnt, but it suits your personality," or his equally sarcastic, "I didn't know you liked your tea as bitter as your comebacks."

Everything is sugar-coated now—every word, every exchange. The fights have stopped, but so has any warmth. It's like we've both decided to put on a show. A well-choreographed routine where neither of us crosses a line or cracks the surface.

After breakfast, Shahmeer leaves for the office. He always wears crisp suits, ties that are perfectly knotted, and shoes that look like they've never touched dirt. I don't know what he does there all day, and I don't ask. Sometimes, I go with him—not because I want to, but because sitting at home can get suffocating. I usually sit in a separate office and help with work, mostly to pass the time.

When I'm not at the office, I stay home. I read, help the staff around the house when they let me, or scroll aimlessly through my phone. My life has turned into a cycle of silence. I have dinner alone most nights. By the time Shahmeer gets back from work, I'm usually already asleep—or at least pretending to be. It's easier that way.

Ayesha's baby bump is getting bigger now, and it's the only thing that makes me smile these days. I've spent a lot of time with her and Farjaad lately—she insists on dragging me along to baby shopping trips or on calls where she endlessly talks about cribs, bottles, and cute little onesies.

Today's a big day, though. It's her gender reveal party, and I've been planning it for weeks. The moment I found out the gender, I took it upon myself to organize everything—balloons, decorations, the cake, the whole works. I don't know why, but it gave me something to focus on. Something other than him.

I messaged Shahmeer a week ago, telling him to take the day off. Not asking. Telling. Ayesha and Farjaad are basically family, and I needed help setting everything up. Surprisingly, he agreed without a fight. Maybe it's because I didn't give him a choice.

I step out of my room now, tying my hair back into a loose ponytail as I hear the faint click of his bedroom door opening. Like clockwork. He's wearing casual clothes today—trousers, a plain black t-shirt that fits him far too well—and for a second, I'm thrown off. Seeing Shahmeer without his polished suits and untouchable demeanor is rare.

He notices me watching him and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," I mutter, brushing past him as I head toward the dining room.

We settle into our seats for breakfast, the air still heavy with our usual sarcastic distance. I don't mind. At least it's peaceful. At least this is normal.

But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself.

Today's going to be different. I can feel it.

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