When Dreams meet Destiny

Chapter 37 : Sara's Mehendi

The beach house buzzed with preparations, vibrant laughter, and the scent of fresh mehendi lingering in the air. Despite the festive atmosphere, tension brewed silently between Yahya and Maryam. Two days had passed without a single meaningful conversation between them, and it was eating away at both of them. Maryam, struggling with her emotions and not feeling well, pretended everything was normal, but her mood only worsened with Yahya's deliberate attempt to talk openly with Irha right in front of her.

If he thinks he can affect me, he's wrong, she told herself, though ignoring him was proving to be a daunting task.

Meanwhile, Yahya was equally disturbed by their unresolved argument but refused to show it. His ego kept him from being the first to reconcile, even though her cold behavior gnawed at him.

At lunchtime, Maryam isolated herself in the room, unwilling to join the others. Frustrated, Yahya stormed in and locked the door behind him.

"Get up," he commanded firmly.

She looked up, confused and annoyed. "Why?"

"Because you're coming to have lunch," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"I don't want to," she replied flatly.

His patience frayed. "Maryam, please don't test me. Eat your lunch, and then you can come back here."

Her voice sharpened. "Go have lunch with Irha. She'll serve you better."

Yahya pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Can you drop this topic already? The way you're behaving, everyone knows something's wrong."

"I don't care," she snapped.

Anger flared in his eyes. "You should care. You're turning a small issue into a big one."

"Oh, so it's all my fault now?" she scoffed bitterly. "I did everything wrong, right?"

"Maybe," he said without thinking, his voice cold.

Maryam let out a sarcastic laugh. "Wow. After fighting with me because of her, you're still talking to her, right in front of me?"

Yahya's temper boiled over. "If you want to eat, eat. If you don't, then don't. I'm done, Maryam. I'm not coming back to clear or solve anything anymore."

Before she could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them. Yahya straightened, his expression hard as he opened the door and walked past Rida without a word.

Rida entered, concern etched on her face. "Everything okay?"

Maryam swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding despite the embarrassment of being overheard. She wanted to cry, to confide in Rida, but she knew sharing their private issues would only make Yahya angrier.

Later that evening, determined to regain control over herself, Maryam decided to enjoy the Mehendi function and ignore Yahya altogether. I'll fix everything once we're back home, she resolved. She chose the dress Yahya had gifted her—a deep emerald-green outfit with intricate gold embroidery. If he noticed her, good. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment.

As she was helping Sara with her floral jewelry, Yahya unexpectedly walked in, his presence catching both of them off guard.

"Mama Baba are calling you," he said to Sara, unaware that Maryam was also in the room.

Sara handed two floral haath phool to Yahya with a mischievous grin. "These are for Maryam. Help her wear them and bring her downstairs," she ordered casually before leaving.

Silence enveloped the room. Yahya's breath hitched as he looked at Maryam, stunned by her beauty. She was breathtaking, and for a fleeting moment, his heart betrayed his resolve. Control, Yahya. Ignore.

Without a word, he stepped toward her, took her delicate hands in his, and gently slipped the floral jewelry onto her wrists. The soft touch sent an electric current through both of them, but neither spoke.

Their moment was interrupted by Ibrahim's cheerful voice. "Bhai, everyone's calling you and Bhabs downstairs. Guests are here."

Maryam seized the opportunity to needle Yahya. "Wow, Ibrahim, you look amazing. Nice shirt!" she complimented brightly.

Ibrahim beamed. "Thanks, Bhabs!"

Yahya's jaw tightened as he approached his brother. "Done?" he asked curtly before leading him downstairs. Maryam smiled faintly to herself. Two can play this game, Yahya Merchant.

The Mehendi celebration was a beautiful blend of joy and intimacy, held exclusively between the first family. Since the bride and groom shared the same extended relatives, the event was combined, making it feel even more special. The beach house, already magnificent, looked magical with vibrant decorations that perfectly complemented the coastal backdrop.

Maryam had been in awe of the place from the moment they arrived. The proud thought lingered in her mind—My husband is such a brilliant architect. The elegance of his work spoke volumes, and the decorations only amplified the beauty of the space.

Yahya stood with Yasaa, engrossed in conversation with a few of their cousins, though his eyes discreetly followed Maryam's every movement. She pretended not to notice, but deep down, the weight of his gaze unsettled her.

On the stage, Sara was adjusting her floral jewelry when Maryam checked if she needed anything. After ensuring all was fine, she stepped down and spotted Ibrahim standing under a tree with a glass of juice.

"I need juice ASAP," she said dramatically, brushing a hand over her forehead.

"One minute," Ibrahim grinned before returning promptly with a fresh glass for her.

They stood quietly under the shade, the view of the entire function unfolding before them. Taking a sip, Maryam broke the silence. "You once told me you liked someone, but you never showed me her picture."

Ibrahim's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Let me give you a hint—she's present here."

Maryam raised a brow, turning sharply toward him. "Wait, so you like one of your cousins?"

"I didn't say that," he teased.

"You practically did!" she argued playfully. "If she's here, and all your cousins are here, then—"

Before she could finish, her gaze collided with Yahya's across the bustling crowd. He was still with Yasaa, speaking casually, but his eyes were locked on her. It wasn't just a glance—it was intense, unwavering, and sent a storm of butterflies to her stomach.

She silently vowed not to break the eye contact first. This time, it'll be him, she thought stubbornly.

Ibrahim chuckled, oblivious to the silent battle. "If you know, you know, Bhabs. Let's see if you can solve the mystery."

Maryam, fumbling slightly under Yahya's gaze, tried to regain composure. "And what happens if I find out?"

"Then, after a few years, you can help me talk to Mama and Baba," he grinned mischievously.

Maryam laughed, finally breaking the eye contact she was so determined to hold. I lost, she admitted to herself. "Sorry, no profit for me in this deal. I'm not wasting my energy. But if you want to share, I'm always by your side," she said with a smile before walking off toward Ruqayyah.

Zahran arrived with a group of boisterous boys, causing the elders to protest about their rowdiness. Ruqayyah intervened with a laugh, "It's okay, they're first cousins. No big deal." Maryam nodded in agreement, amused by the harmless chaos.

Ahmed Merchant called her over. "Beta," he said warmly, "I'll personally invite your family for the Nikah and reception, but you have to make sure everyone comes. I know it's a long journey, but tell them I'll arrange as many hotel rooms as needed. They can come tomorrow and stay."

Maryam smiled warmly. "I'll make sure everyone is here, In Sha Allah," she promised.

Ahmed's family had become hers now. She felt deeply connected to all of them, cherishing the love and respect they showered on her. Yet, one thing remained unresolved—Mr. Yahya Merchant.

With renewed determination, Maryam thought, It's time to fix this mess.