Whispers of the heart

"Well, well, such a long time, Kashmala madam," said Meer, his smirk sending an icy chill down my spine.

I turned to face him, my brows knitting in irritation. "I don't want to talk to you. Get aside." My voice was firm, and I tried to move past him.

But his words followed me like a shadow. "Did Irtaza tell you how much money he paid me not to marry you?"

I stopped in my tracks, the shock rooting me to the floor. Turning back, I looked at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, he didn't tell you, did he?" Meer's smirk widened, and he stepped closer. "Your beloved husband paid me a fortune to ensure I wouldn't show up at the nikkah. He wanted to buy you from me."

The world seemed to tilt for a moment. The bouquet fell from my hands, forgotten. "You're lying," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Am I?" he sneered. "I got a good deal for leaving you, Kashmala. And he-well, he got to play the hero. Ask him yourself."