I'm sure you've heard a lot about unrequited love, but what if I say there exists an unwilling love, hidden somewhere between the echoes of silence and the whispers of the heart's secrets? A love that fights to stay buried, yet yearns to be discover...
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๑ 🥀 ๑
The next day started in utter chaos.
Yusra was jolted awake by the crash of something falling—or someone, perhaps. Disoriented, she glanced at the clock. It was well past her usual college timings, though it didn’t matter. Attending wasn’t part of her plan today.
“You’re up?” Her mother entered the room briskly, balancing trays filled with what appeared to be decorative items. Yusra didn’t bother inspecting them closely-they were ornate, brimming with something festive—that much was clear.
“Take a shower and come have breakfast,” Faiza instructed in a voice clipped and hurried. “I booked you a salon appointment in an hour. You’ll need to rush to make it in time.”
Yusra nodded wordlessly, lazily twisting her hair into a loose bun as her mother swept out of the room.
She sank back against the bedframe, staring at the ceiling. She was really doing this. She was going to marry the man she both loved and loathed in equal measure.
What had caused this shift in her resolve?
The first reason was glaringly obvious: no one had expected her to oppose the marriage. Her parents were practically glowing with excitement. She didn’t fully understand their urgency, but she could sense it. It wasn’t a battle she could fight—not without breaking their hearts.
Second, Shazal knew about Adnan. That revelation alone placed him in grave danger. Anything could happen at any moment. Yusra wanted to shield him, even if it meant one final sacrifice for a love that had already wounded her so deeply. She could only protect him by keeping him close.
And the final push was the conversation she had with her brother.
She sat on the prayer mat, her back pressed against the bed, arms wrapped around her knees, praying— for some reason she didn't know what to pray for, did she want a way out or..
"You look like you're about to throw up," Zayd said, glancing at her as he stood by the dresser, idly flipping through a book he had no intention of reading.
She shot him a glare. "Gee, thanks for the support."
He shut the book with a thud and turned to her. "So, you’re really gonna keep fighting this? What’s your plan?"
Yusra was shocked, then hesitated, her voice dropping. "I don’t know… I just— I don’t want this, Zayd. My plan is to tell them I don’t want this," she said firmly, though even she wasn’t sure if she believed it.
Zayd scoffed. "Yeah? And then what? You think they’ll just drop everything and say, ‘Alright, Yusra, whatever you want’?" He shook his head. "It’s happening. You know that."
She pressed her palms against her face, frustration bubbling up. "Why is no one asking me what I want?"
"Because they assume they already know," he said simply, plopping down on the foot of her bed. "They think you love Shazal. And honestly, don’t you?" It was a bluntly asked question.
