Roohi POV
The reception had been going on for hours.
Photographs.
Congratulations.
Relatives.
More photographs.
More relatives.
At this point, I was beginning to suspect the guests were multiplying.
The stage lights felt warmer.
My cheeks hurt from smiling.
And my feet were officially declaring war against me.
I wanted to sit.
For approximately three years.
Then came the announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the cake-cutting ceremony!"
The crowd immediately cheered.
My stomach dropped.
Of course.
The cake.
How had I forgotten the cake?
The enormous white cake stood in the center of the hall.
Decorated with fresh white roses.
Elegant.
Beautiful.
And unfortunately...
Located very far from the stage.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
"Come on, beta."
Aleena Khan smiled.
"It's time."
I nodded nervously.
Trying not to trip over my own dress.
A difficult task.
Very difficult.
The moment I stood up...
The heavy embroidered hem wrapped around my shoes.
I froze.
Panic immediately entered the chat.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of hundreds of people.
Ya Allah.
Please.
Before I could take another step—
A warm hand closed around mine.
Firm.
Steady.
Certain.
My breath caught.
Zayan.
For a second...
I forgot where I was.
Forgot about the guests.
Forgot about the cake.
Forgot how to function.
I slowly looked up.
His expression remained completely calm.
Completely unreadable.
As if holding my hand in front of half the city was perfectly normal.
Which it absolutely was not.
"Walk."
The word was quiet.
Only for me.
I blinked.
"What?"
His gaze briefly shifted toward the dress tangled around my feet.
Then back to me.
"Before you fall."
My cheeks immediately warmed.
Oh.
Right.
That.
Without another word...
He adjusted his pace.
Matching mine perfectly.
Making sure the dress didn't catch again.
Guiding me through the crowd.
Still holding my hand.
Still completely calm.
Meanwhile...
My heart was behaving like it had lost all common sense.
The guests noticed.
Of course they noticed.
Guests always noticed everything.
The aunties were already smiling.
The uncles looked amused.
Children pointed openly.
And somewhere in the crowd...
Hania looked seconds away from screaming.
Rayyan absolutely was.
"Oh my God."
Daniyal nearly elbowed him.
"Stop."
"I can't."
"Try."
"I physically can't."
Meanwhile...
zayan mother looked incredibly pleased with herself.
Like she had personally arranged this entire moment.
Which honestly...
She probably would have if given the opportunity.
my parents noticed too.
baba eyes softened.
mama immediately looked emotional.
Again.
Not that anyone blamed me.
By the time we reached the cake table...
My face was pink.
Very pink.
The kind of pink that no amount of makeup could hide.
Unfortunately.
The photographer immediately began giving instructions.
"Sir, ma'am, stand closer."
i nearly choked.
Stand closer?
We were already standing close.
Very close.
Dangerously close.
The photographer wasn't finished.
"Closer."
I considered running away.
Unfortunately...
The dress made escape impossible.
Zayan looked unimpressed.
The photographer looked determined.
The photographer won.
A few moments later...
The knife was placed into my hand. I stared at it.
Then at the cake.
Then at the crowd.
Then at the cake again.
Nervous.
Very nervous.
Without warning...
Another hand covered mine
Large.
Warm.
Steady.
Zayan's.
My heart stopped.
Started.
Then stopped again.
Honestly, it needed to make up its mind.
Together...
we cut the cake.
The crowd applauded.
Cameras flashed.
Family members cheered.
And for one brief second...
Everything felt strangely perfect.
As the applause continued...
I accidentally glanced toward my parents.
Then toward aunty
Then toward Zayan.
And suddenly...
A realization settled quietly inside her heart.
For the first time since the wedding...
She didn't feel caught between two families.
She felt surrounded by them.
And somehow...
That made the evening even more beautiful.
To Be Continued...
Write a comment ...