𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓶

Sorry for the late update , enjoy the chapter.
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The next morning, it was finally the day of Armaan and Zara’s wedding. The house was bustling with energy — as it always happens in a shaadi ka ghar — lights being fixed, flowers arriving, cooks shouting orders in the kitchen, and laughter echoing through the halls. Amal (Armaan’s mom) was supervising the decorations when she spotted Aayan and Sahil passing by.

“Sahil, Aayan — listen!” she called out.

They stopped and walked over.
“Yes, aunty?” Aayan asked.

“Beta, ek baar jaa kar khane ko dekh lo, sab theek hai na,” Amal said. Both of them nodded, sharing a knowing look, and headed to the back where the cooks were busy preparing for the feast.

As they left, Hira came rushing to Amal.
“Aunty!” she said, slightly out of breath.

Amal turned to her.
“Aunty, lights and stage are done, sitting and dining area ka kaam chal raha hai... aur aunty, designer ka number chahiye, dresses abhi tak nahi aaye. I’ll call her once?”

“Number toh Iqra ke paas hai, usse le lo,” Amal said calmly. Hira nodded and hurried off.

On her way, she spotted Aayan. A mischievous grin spread on her face.
“Oye!” she called out. Aayan turned, eyebrow raised.
“What?” he asked, half-smiling.

“Teri hone wali biwi kidhar hai?” she teased.
“Sunshine?” he asked innocently.
“Kyun? Koi aur bhi hai kya?” Hira shot back.
“Haan, bohot hain,” Aayan said playfully, smirking.

“Bas ruk! Abhi batati hoon Iqra ko ki teri kitni biwiyan hain!” Hira pretended to dial, making his eyes widen.
“Hiraaa!” Aayan tried to stop her, but she had already darted off upstairs.

Hira burst into Iqra’s room and found her on the bed, scrolling through her phone.
“Yahaan baithi hai tu, main tujhe dhoond rahi thi,” Hira said, flopping down beside her.

“Kyun?” Iqra asked without looking up.

“Designer ka number chahiye for the dresses.”
“I just spoke to her — she said no one’s available to bring the dresses. I thought I’d ask the driver, but no one is free ,” Iqra replied, annoyed.

“Okay then, I’ll go get it myself,” Hira said, standing up.
“I'ii go get it myself! ,mana kiya hai na bahar jane se ,Why are you stressing me out?” Iqra said, half-mocking, half-worried.

“Arrey kuch nahi hoga. I’ll go, nobody will even know — unless you open your mouth!” Hira glared at her.

“Fine!” Iqra sighed, giving up.

Hira grabbed Sahil’s car keys, rushed downstairs, and jumped into the car. She pulled up to the gate.
“Open the gate!” she ordered.

“Sorry ma’am, sir strictly told us not to let you out—” the guard began.
“And who’s going to stop me?” she snapped, eyes fierce.
“But ma’am—”
“OPEN. THE. GATE!” she cut him off, voice firm.

The guard, helpless, obeyed. Iqra, watching from the window, shook her head and went back inside, muttering, “Pagal hai yeh ladki…”

Meanwhile, Mira sat on the sofa, scrolling through her phone, her sprained leg resting carefully on a cushion. But hunger made her restless. She set her phone aside, looked around — the house felt empty, everyone busy.
“I’m starving…” she mumbled.

She tried to get up, balancing on one leg, but as soon as she accidentally put weight on her injured foot, she gasped — losing balance. Before she could fall, strong arms caught her by the waist. She looked up, heart racing, to see Amer holding her.