Zayan POV

Weddings were a waste of time.

Too much noise.
Too many people.
Too many fake smiles.

I sit on sofa near the front, adjusting my cufflinks slightly as voices blended into meaningless background noise.

Laughter.
Whispers.
Music.

None of it mattered.

This marriage wasn’t about love.

It never was.

It was a decision.
An agreement.

A responsibility I had already accepted.

“Everything seems… delayed.”

Daniyal’s voice came from beside me, low and observant.

I didn’t look at him.
“Then they should fix it.”

But even as I said it…

I noticed it too.

Something was off.

The bride’s side looked tense.

Too tense for a wedding.

Movements rushed.
Smiles forced.

Whispers… controlled.

My gaze moved slowly across the hall.

Analyzing. Watching.

Waiting.

And then—

The music shifted.

A signal.

The bride was coming.

veryone stood straighter.

Attention shifted toward the entrance.

I turned.

Calm. Unbothered.

But the moment I saw her—

Something… didn’t sit right.

She walked slowly, head slightly lowered, the red dupatta covering most of her face.

Graceful. Careful.

That wasn’t what I expected.

Meher wasn’t hesitant.

She was confident. Bold.

She owned every room she walked into.

This girl…

Didn’t.

y eyes narrowed slightly.

Something was different.

I watched as she was guided closer, every step measured, every movement almost too careful.

Her hands—

They trembled.

Just slightly.

Barely noticeable.

But I noticed.

I always did.

Daniyal leaned in slightly.
“Bro it didn't seems Meher right you see it?”

“I see everything.”

My gaze didn’t leave her.

She stopped in front of me.

Close enough now.

Too close.

The veil hid most of her face… but not her eyes.

And her eyes—

They weren’t the ones I had seen before.

She sit beside me on sofa her mother fix her lehenga little...he hall waited in silence, the officiant beginning to speak, voices low and formal.

But I wasn’t listening anymore.

I leaned forward just slightly.

Close enough that only she could hear me.

“Look at me.”

or a second, she didn’t move.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her dupatta.

Then slowly…

She lifted her gaze.

And there it was again.

That same fear.

That same hesitation.

Definitely not Meher.

My jaw clenched.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly.

Her breath hitched.

I saw it.

Heard it.

Felt it.

ilence.

“I asked you something.” My voice dropped further, colder now.

Her lips parted slightly beneath the veil.

For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then—barely above a whisper—

“Roohi…”

The name settled between us.

Strange.

Unfamiliar.

Roohi.

My eyes narrowed.

“Where is Meher?”

Her fingers trembled again.

This time, she couldn’t hide it.

“I…” her voice broke slightly.

Interesting.

“I don’t repeat questions,” I said, my tone calm—but sharp enough to cut.

he swallowed hard.

And then—

“She left.”

The words were so quiet…

And yet they echoed louder than anything in the room.

For a second—

Everything stilled.

Only one thought remained.

She left.

My gaze darkened.

Of course she did.

A humorless breath escaped me, something close to a scoff—but colder.

Controlled.

And then—

Slowly—

My eyes moved back to the girl siting beside me.

Roohi.

The replacement.

“You?” I said quietly.

Not a question.

Not really.

Her silence was answer enough.

For a moment, I said nothing.

Just watched her.

Analyzed. Calculated.

She wasn’t pretending.

She wasn’t playing a role.

She was… trapped.

My gaze lingered for a second longer.

Then I leaned in again, my voice low enough that only she could hear—

“This changes nothing.”

Her breath caught.

“This marriage still happens.”

Her eyes widened slightly beneath the veil.

“And don’t expect anything from me.”

A pause.

Cold. Final.

I straightened, pulling back just as the officiant’s voice rose again, calling for attention.

The ceremony continued.

As if nothing had changed.

But everything had.

Because the bride I was supposed to marry…

Was gone.

And in her place—

Stood someone who didn’t belong.

(Roohi POV)

couldn’t feel my hands.

They rested in my lap, still, cold… like they didn’t belong to me anymore.

The voices around me blurred into something distant.

The soft recitation.
The quiet murmurs.
The shifting of people around me.

Everything felt far away.

Only one thing echoed clearly in my mind—

“This means nothing.”

His words.

Cold.
Sharp.
Final.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my chest tightening with every breath.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Not like this.

Not… for me.

could hear my own heartbeat.

Loud. Uneven.

Drowning everything else.

The room was filled with people…

But it felt like I was sitting there alone.

The Maulvi Sahib’s voice echoed softly, calm and steady.

Words I had heard before.
Words that felt different today.

He spoke the details of the nikah…

And then—

Everything went silent.

“Roohi Shah…”

My name.

It felt unfamiliar here.

Heavy.

My breath hitched.

“Kya aapko yeh nikah qabool hai?”

The question settled in the air.

Simple.

But it felt like the entire world was waiting for my answer.

My fingers tightened into the fabric of the lehenga.

I couldn’t breathe properly.

For a moment…

I forgot how to speak.

My gaze lifted slightly.

I saw my mother—her eyes filled with tears.

My father—silent, watching.

Waiting.

And then—

His voice echoed in my mind again.

“This means nothing.”

Something inside me broke.

The Maulvi repeated, a little louder this time—

“Kya aapko yeh nikah qabool hai?”

My lips parted.

But no sound came out.

I wanted to say no.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to choose myself…

Just once. Just like Meher did

But I didn’t.

Because I couldn’t.

My voice came out small.

Barely there.

“…Qabool hai.”

The words felt foreign.

Like they didn’t belong to me.

The Maulvi asked again—

“Kya aapko yeh nikah qabool hai?”

My throat tightened.

Tears burned behind my eyes.

“…Qabool hai.”

One more time.

Final.

Kya aapko yeh nikah qabool hai?”

My fingers curled tightly into the fabric.

My heart shattered quietly inside my chest.

“…Qabool hai.”

And just like that—

It was done.

I sighn on Nikkah Nama then Zayan do...A soft murmur spread through the room.

“Mubarak ho…”
“Nikah ho gaya…”

But I couldn’t hear them properly anymore.

Because all I could feel…

Was the weight of three words—

Qabool hai.

Words that had just tied me to a life…

I never chose.

𝓣𝓗𝓐𝓝𝓚 𝓨𝓞𝓤 🖤✨