MUSTREAD: 

No matter how much I try, I keep writing 5k, 3k, 2k-word chapters, but the book just isn't ending! The more I write, the longer it gets. I originally planned it as a short story with a 30-chapter target, but now I'm already at 41 chapters and that's just the midpoint! I haven't even touched Izel's backstory yet, nor have I shown Irfaz's backstory.

haan yrr tumlogo ke pyar ke krn he itna likh pa rhi hu mein shukriyaa mere laddus sweethearts.

 I really need a suggestion this is important! 

Should I skip some scenes and just summarize them quickly, or should I create proper mahol bna ke btau har ek details?

Also, is the narration in the chapters so far fine, or do I need to improve it? 

Please give your feedback in the comments so I can understand what's working and what's not.

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HER POV

The next morning, as I woke up, I got ready, slipping into a red suit this time. Irfaz had also woken up, but unlike usual, he wasn't heading to the gym in the morning. I wasn't sure when he planned to go, but I decided to leave that thought for later. I'd ask him when the time was right.

We both descended the stairs and reached the hall. The house was eerily quiet everyone was still asleep, exhausted from yesterday's festivities. Except for Mom.

"Good morning, bacha," she greeted us warmly. "itni jaldi kiu uth gyi? Kal bohot thak gayi hogyi... dekho sab log nhi uthe h... Abhi tak so rahe hain," she said, looking slightly disappointed.

"Asa kuch nahi, Ammi. Neend khul gayi toh aa gayi neeche," I replied with a small smile.

Mom's face lit up. "Aaj tumhare jahez ka nashta aane wala hai, aur chauthi ki rasam bhi!" she announced excitedly. "Humare yahan chauthi ki rasam toh walima ke baad hoti hai. Miya-biwi ko ladki ke mayke mein ek raat rehna padta hai."

The morning had started off well, but the mention of this rasam drained all my excitement. Before I could process my emotions, my phone rang. Mom's name flashed on the screen.

"Ammi, ek minute, Mom ka call hai," I excused myself and walked toward the kitchen.

"Jahez ka nashta le kar aa rahe hain hum log... Sasural walon ko bata dena," she said in a normal tone. Then, after a pause, she added, "Bata dogi ya main call karke bataun?"

"Main bata dungi... shukriya," I assured her before cutting the call.

I returned to the hall and informed Mom with a forced smile. But I could tell Irfaz had sensed something was off. He gently clasped my hand and blinked twice while looking at me, as if silently asking if I was okay.

"Coffee piyo ge ya chai?" I asked, trying to shift the mood.

"Aap rehne dijiye, jaan. Hum dono ki chai or coffee aa gayi hai," he teased, his smirk softening the tension between us.

We both settled in the living area, sipping our drinks while Mom busied herself with household chores. I hesitated, playing with the edge of my dupatta.

"Amm... Irfaz... woh...." I mumbled, unsure of how to begin.

He looked at me, his brows furrowing in concern. "Kya baat hai, begum?"

I swallowed hard. "Can you help me with something?"

His hand covered mine reassuringly. "What happened, Izel?"

"Hm...mm... I don't want to go to my maternal home... So... can you lie to them that I...."

Before I could finish, the sound of footsteps filled the hall. Everyone had woken up.

"Good morning, Bhabhiii!" Ayesha squealed as she hugged me tightly. She pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 

"Badi pyaari lag rahi ho, Bhabhi! Ek dum nayi naveli dulhan!" she gushed.

Before I could respond, Irfaz casually pulled Ayesha away from me. 

"Woh nayi naveli dulhan meri hai," he said possessively, making my cheeks flush with warmth.

Everyone settled in the living room, chatting and laughing.

"Ammi, Bhabhi ki pehli rasoi kab hogi?" Dewan asked eagerly.

Chachi raised a brow and smirked. "Itne excited ho Bhabhi ke haath ka khana khane ke liye?"

"Arey, Bhabhi bohot tasty khana banati hain! Kya lajawab fried rice banati hain..." Dewan started but suddenly paused, realizing he was about to reveal something he shouldn't.

I, Ayesha, and Irfaz exchanged quick, knowing glances.

Chachi narrowed her eyes playfully. "Acha ji? Tumne Izel ke haath ka bana khana kab khaya?"

Dewan fumbled for an answer. "Uh... Irfaz Bhai ne bataya..." he blurted, pushing the blame onto Irfaz.

"Oh?" Chachi's curiosity deepened. "Aur unhone kab khaya?"

"Uh... Zayn Bhai bata rahe the... office pe... woh..." Dewan stammered, unintentionally spilling bits of our little secret.

Irfaz coughed loudly. "Cough, cough!"

Kinjal quickly handed him a glass of water. "Yeh lijiye, Irfaz."

"No, thank you," he waved it off, desperate to shift the conversation.

"Begum..." Irfaz suddenly turned to me, his voice light but intentional. "Aapke jahez ka nashta kab aa raha hai?"

I barely had time to answer before the front door opened, and my parents stepped inside.

"As-salamu alaikum," Mom and Dad greeted warmly.

"Wa-alaikum as-salam," we all responded in unison.

"Maaf kijiye ga, thoda late ho gaya," Mom apologized.

"Arey nahi, nahi, aisi koi baat nahi hai. Hum log bhi abhi thodi der pehle hi uthe hain. Kal ke functions ke baad sab thak gaye the," Irfaz's dad said reassuringly.

Dad smiled warmly, placing a gentle hand on my head.

"Kaisi ho, beti?"

"Alhamdulillah, theek hoon, Baba," I replied softly.

Behind me, Irfaz stood up, offering a polite nod. "Aaiye, Uncle, Aunty. Baithiye."

The house help swiftly brought water and tea as Mom placed a large basket on the table.

"Yeh jahez ka nashta hai," she announced, casting a glance at Ammi.

Ammi smiled warmly. "Shukriya, behen ji. Aapko takleef hui hogi?"

"Koi takleef nahi, rasam hai, khushi se kiya," Mom reassured her with a gentle smile.

Chachi clapped her hands together in excitement. "Toh chaliye, nashta lagwate hain!"

Everyone gathered as the table was set with an array of homemade delights from my maternal home parathas, halwa, kebabs, and mithai. 

"Kitni achi smell aa rahi hai!" Ayesha chimed in excitedly as we began setting the dishes on the dining table.

Since there were so many people present today, we opted for a buffet-style breakfast, letting everyone serve themselves. The lively chatter and clinking of plates filled the room as the delicious aroma of homemade food spread through the air.

Dewan, of course, couldn't help himself. "Bhabhi, aap bhi itna hi accha khana banati hain?" he teased with a wink.

I shot him a glare, but before I could respond, Irfaz spoke up. "Tumhe jaldi pata chal jayega," he said smoothly, his gaze flicking toward me.

I stole a glance at him, my heart doing an odd little flip. He was always doing this stepping in for me, shielding me, and somehow making my presence feel... important.

As everyone started eating, Mom leaned closer and spoke softly. "Izel,  tayyar rehna. Tumhe mayke chalna hai chauthi ki rasam ke liye."

My stomach twisted. I didn't want to go. I nodded slightly, but my heart wasn't convinced.

Would I have to go? Or would Irfaz help me? Would he lie for me?

I looked at him again, hoping for an answer in his eyes. I turned to look at him again, hoping for an answer in his eyes. Before I could decipher anything, Ayesha's voice rang out,

"Bhabhiii..." She stretched my name dramatically. "Bhai ne muh dikhayi pe kya gift diya?"

I blinked. 

Gift?

Realization dawned on me this kanjoos insaan hadn't bothered to give me anything! I shot him a side-eyed glare, my irritation evident. He instantly looked apologetic.

"Woh... main bhool gaya dene ko..." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Mujhe nahi pata tha bhai kabhi kisi se darenge bhi life mein... par aaj dekh liya!" Dewan teased.

"Biwi ke aage sab darte hain," Chachu chimed in with a chuckle. "Aur isne ab kaam bhi waise wala kiya hai... ab toh darne ki baat hai!" He laughed, making everyone else join in.

Under normal circumstances, I would have brushed it off, maybe even laughed along.

But this wasn't normal.

My parents were here. My mom and Shahin were here.

A strange fear gripped my heart, wrapping around my ribs like a vice. Were they right? Was this all just an illusion? A temporary show of care that would eventually disappear?

The sharp ache in my chest deepened. A tight knot formed in my stomach as their presence weighed on me. The laughter around me suddenly felt distant, muffled, as if I were underwater. My chest ached, a sharp, pressing pain that only grew stronger with each passing second.

I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to shake off the feeling, tell myself that their words were just jokes, that Irfaz wasn't like that. That I wasn't... naive. But doubt crept in like an unwelcome guest.

What if they were right? 

What if this was all temporary? 

A fleeting phase of care and attention that would fade away once reality settled in?

The way my mother looked at me, the way Shahin's gaze flickered between me and Irfaz 'it was like they were waiting.' 

Waiting for the moment I'd realize it too.

That love is just a show. 

That men change.

That no matter how much they make you feel special today, tomorrow, you're just another duty to them.

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. The room felt smaller. The air, heavier. Even though Irfaz was sitting right beside me, even though his presence had always felt like a shield, right now... I felt alone. And that scared me more than anything.

"Ek min, main aati hoon," I excused myself hastily, pushing back my chair.

Before anyone could question me, I turned and walked away...no, ran...to the kitchen.

My breaths were uneven, my chest tightening with every step. The air felt thick, suffocating. As soon as I entered, I grabbed a glass from the shelf, filled it with water, and took a shaky sip, hoping it would wash away the turmoil brewing inside me.

But it didn't.

The unease sat heavy in my stomach, refusing to leave.

And then I saw her.

Shahin.

She was walking toward me, her expression unreadable, but her eyes... her eyes held something that made my pulse quicken.

Pity.

Concern.

Or maybe....just maybe.....an unspoken I told you so.

I tightened my grip on the glass, bracing myself.

"Kya hua, Didi? Theek toh ho na?" Shahin asked, her voice laced with fake concern.

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the glass. 

"Kya chahiye tumhe?" I asked, my tone sharper than intended.

A slow smirk formed on her lips as she took a step closer.

"Mujhe kuch nahi chahiye..." She leaned in, her breath brushing against my ear. "Mujhe jo chahiye tha... woh show mujhe mil raha hai."

She stepped back, tilting her head slightly as if savoring the moment. 

"Dekha apne?" she taunted, her voice carrying a cruel edge. "Dusron ki khushi cheenne se khud ka kuch bhala nahi hota."

My stomach twisted at her words, but I refused to let it show.

"Jitne khushi ke pal jeene the,jee liye ab... woh khatam hone wale hain," she continued, her tone turning almost pitying. "Ab dheere dheere sab bikhar jayega."

I felt my throat tighten, but I wouldn't let her see the effect her words had on me.

Not now. Not ever.

My fingers trembled as I gripped the glass tighter, her words echoing in my head like a cruel melody. "Jitne khushi ke pal jeene the, woh khatam hone wale hain... Ab dheere dheere sab bikhar jayega."

No.

I refused to believe her. I refused to let her win.

My breath came out in short, uneven gasps, my chest rising and falling rapidly as anger, fear, and something dangerously close to despair clawed at me. My vision blurred for a second, my mind clouded with a whirlwind of emotions I couldn't contain.

And then....

Crack!

A sharp pain shot through my palm.

I gasped, looking down in shock as crimson streaks of blood across my skin, the shattered glass digging into my flesh. I hadn't even realized I had clenched it so hard hadn't felt the breaking until the sting spread through my nerves like fire.

Shahin's eyes widened slightly before a smirk tugged at her lips. 

"Agar itna hi takleef ho rahi hai, toh soch... asli dard abhi baaki hai," she murmured, her voice almost gentle, almost mocking.

I forced myself to breathe through the pain, through the fire searing my palm. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Slowly, deliberately, I loosened my grip, letting the bloodied shards fall onto the marble floor with a soft, chilling tink. like a warning. Like a promise.

She expected me to crumble. To fall apart at her feet.

I lifted my gaze, meeting her smirk with a cold stare, my lips curling into something dangerously close to a smile.

"Mujhe todne ka sapna mat dekh, Shahin," I said, my voice low, edged with something sharper than steel. "Main bikharun bhi toh sirf apni marzi se."

Her smirk faltered... just for a second. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face before she masked it with indifference.

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, my bleeding hand leaving faint, crimson smudges against my palm.

"Jo girta hai, woh sirf kamzor nahi hota," I whispered, my voice steady now. "Kabhi kabhi, girke uthne wale log sabse zyada khatarnak hote hain. or bhool mat mein aaj jaha hu khud ke badolad hu, teri trh ghrwalo ke sahare se nhi. 7saal pehle jis Izel ne ghr chorda tha ab woh nhi rhi mein. azma na h azma lena lekin iss baar kisiko barbaad krne mein kasar nhi chordungi. "

Shahin's lips parted, but no words came out. For the first time, I saw it the crack in her confidence. The slight hesitation in her otherwise perfect facade.

Shahin let out a soft chuckle. "Samajhdaar ho na, Didi?" she said. "Bas yahi samajhna hai ki jo cheez tumhari nahi thi... uska zyada lutf na uthao. Warna chot sirf haath pe nahi, dil pe bhi lagti hai."

"Dekhte Jao...aage aage kya hota hein Didi," she whispered before walking away, leaving me alone in the kitchen, bleeding both inside and out.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers loosening as the shards of glass clattered onto the floor, some still lodged in my skin. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else.

The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the storm raging inside me. Blood dripped from my palm, staining the kitchen counter as I stared at it, my breath shaky. The sting barely registered compared to the ache swelling inside my chest.

As soon as Shahin get out of my sight, the dam I had been holding back finally broke.

My tears spilled over, silent and unrelenting, as I turned my face toward the sink, gripping its edges to steady myself. The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the weight pressing down on my heart.

But before I could gather myself, a loud scream shattered the moment.

"Bhabhi!"

Ayesha's panicked voice rang through the kitchen. I barely had time to wipe my tears before she rushed toward me, her eyes widening in horror as she grabbed my wounded hand.

"Yeh kaise hua, Bhabhi?" she asked, her voice trembling as she examined the deep cuts on my palm.

Before I could even think of a response, she turned and shouted, "Irfaz bhai... jaldi aaye yahan!" Panic shot through me. I quickly pulled Ayesha to the side, lowering my voice. 

"Yahan kaanch tuta hua hai... lag jayegi," I told her, trying to distract her from my injury.

But I couldn't move. My legs felt rooted to the ground, frozen in place as if my body had given up on me. The room around me blurred, my pulse pounding in my ears. I knew Irfaz would be here any second. I knew he would see.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready for that.

Before I could brace myself, hurried footsteps approached. My breath hitched as Irfaz entered the kitchen, his sharp gaze instantly locking onto my trembling form.

"Kya hua?" His voice was firm, but I could hear the worry laced beneath it.

Ayesha, still holding my hand, turned to him frantically. "Bhai, Bhabhi ka haath kat gaya hai! Bohot zyada khoon beh raha hai!"

I looked away, biting my lip to suppress the emotions threatening to spill over again. I didn't want to see his reaction. I didn't want him to see me like this.

Within seconds, he was beside me, his warm hands gently gripping my wrist as he examined the wound. His jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened just slightly as if the sight of my blood was affecting him more than he let on.

"Yeh kaise hua?" he asked, his voice quieter now, calmer, but there was something in his tone something unspoken.

I tried to pull my hand back. "Kuch nahi... bas galti se..."

"Begum," he cut me off, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I dared to meet his gaze. His eyes intense, dark, and searching held something unfamiliar. Something that made my throat tighten. He wasn't just angry or worried. He knew.

He knew I wasn't telling the truth. I looked away again, swallowing hard. 

"Main theek hoon," I whispered, but the tremble in my voice betrayed me.

Irfaz let out a slow, frustrated breath before turning to Ayesha. "First-aid box leke aao."

She nodded quickly and rushed out, leaving us alone.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, softly, he spoke. "Kisne kiya?"

My heart skipped a beat. I looked up at him sharply.

"K-kya?"

He exhaled through his nose, his grip on my wrist tightening slightly. "Mujhse chupane ki kosshish na kre Izel. btaye kya hua hein? kisne kia? kisi ne kch kaha?"

The lump in my throat grew. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to let it all out. But Shahin's words still echoed in my mind, taunting me, warning me.

I shook my head. "Kisi ne nahi... bas accident tha."

His jaw ticked, his eyes searching mine for the truth I refused to give. Before he could say anything more, Ayesha returned with the first-aid kit.

"Bhai, yeh lo," she said, handing it to him.

"Mein khud kar lungi," I said, pulling my hand away from his grasp.

"Chup. Ek dum chup," he ordered before lifting me into his arms.

"Niche utaaro, mein chal sakti hoon!" I protested, but he paid no heed to my words.

He carried me toward the living room.

"Haye Allah, yeh kaise hua, Izel?" Ammi asked, worry evident in her voice.

"Galti se... zyada zor par gaya tha glass pe," I said, forcing a small smile. "Mein theek hoon, don't worry."

He gently placed me down on the sofa and knelt in front of me, opening the first-aid box. His fingers worked swiftly, pulling out antiseptic and cotton.

"Haath do," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Rehne do mein khud kr lungi" i protested

"Ek shabd aur bola toh dekhna," he cut me off, his voice laced with authority. His hands were gentle yet firm as he dabbed the cotton on my wound. I flinched, and his grip tightened.

I glanced around, aware of everyone's eyes on me. Ammi, Chachi, Dewan, and even my parents were watching with worry. I forced a smile, trying to ease their concern. 

"Mein theek hoon, sach mein," I repeated, but no one looked convinced especially not him.

"mein theek hu... Khoon beh rahi hai, itni zyda phir bhi mein theek hu" he muttered, grabbing the first aid box from the nearby shelf.

I hesitated, but his sharp gaze left me with no choice. Reluctantly, I extended my hand. He took it gently, yet his touch was firm, his expression unreadable as he dabbed the antiseptic onto my wound. he carefully cleaned the wound, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his clear frustration. 

I expected him to call for someone else to help, maybe even tell Ayesha to do it. But instead, he silently took my hand in his and started cleaning the wound himself. The antiseptic stung, making me flinch slightly, but I bit my lip, refusing to react.

I watched as he worked in complete silence, his fingers moving with precision as he carefully removed the tiny shards of glass embedded in my skin. 

"Dheere Irfaz," Ammi said softly, watching him tend to me with a mother's protective gaze.

"Agar khud sambhalti toh yeh hota nahi," he muttered under his breath, making my cheeks heat up with a mix of irritation and something I couldn't quite name. His touch was gentle, yet there was a quiet intensity in his movements, as if he was holding himself back from saying something.

When he was applying cream on the wound, he blew softly over it, trying to soothe the sting. The unexpected gesture sent an odd warmth through me, making my breath hitch for just a second.

Ayesha sat beside me, holding my other hand. "Bhabhi, aapko bohot dard ho raha hoga na?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. "Nahi, Ayesha, bas chhoti si chot hai."

Without a word, he picked up the gauze and began wrapping it around my palm. His brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, his jaw tight as if he was still upset.

"Pata nahi kyun, par lagta hai yeh chot kisi aur ko zyada chub rahi hai," Chachi teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

Everyone chuckled, But my gaze flickered to Irfaz, who was still focused on wrapping the bandage around my palm. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions.

"Bas ho gaya," he finally said, securing the bandage before looking up at me. His gaze was sharp, questioning still searching for the truth.

But I wasn't ready to give it. Not yet.

And then, just before tying the final knot, he looped the gauze one last time and made a small bow on top.

A bow.

I blinked, surprised. My lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

But before I could say anything, Ayesha gasped dramatically. "Awww, bhai, yeh toh bohot cute hai!" she teased.

Chachi chuckled, nudging Ammi. "Maine pehli baar kisi ko bandage itni pyaar se lagate dekha hai."

The heat crept up my neck as everyone smiled knowingly, but it was Irfaz who stood up first, stuffing his hands into his pockets and clearing his throat. It was such a small, insignificant thing probably nothing to him. But to me, it was... unexpected. Soft. Almost tender.

I stared at the little bow, then at him. His expression had gone back to its usual unreadable mask, but there was something in his eyes something I couldn't quite decipher.

"Shukriya," I murmured, unsure why my voice came out so soft.

He didn't reply. He just stood up, shoved the first-aid box aside, and exhaled deeply before muttering under his breath, 

"Ab koi aur stupid harqat mat karna."

He went straight to his room, and after a few minutes, he returned with something in his hand. Sitting beside me, he handed me a paper bag.

"I'm sorry... I forgot to give this to you last night," he said, his voice unusually soft.

Then, leaning closer to my ear, he whispered, "Zyada muh fulane ki zaroorat nahi hai, begum... akhir raat ko meri hosh tumne hi udaye the."

Heat rushed to my ears and cheeks at his words. I turned to him, flustered. 

"Kitne besharam ho tum!" I muttered.

He smirked. "Kal raat jaise sirf tumne shararat nahi ki thi, hai na?"

Before I could react, Dewan's voice rang through the room. "Ahmm... ahmmm... time please! Parivarik mahaul hai yahan."

I couldn't help but smile at his teasing. It was as if, piece by piece, all the negative thoughts in my mind were fading away. For a moment, I allowed myself to think, 

'Let me live in this moment... even if it's temporary.'

"Arey jaldi khol, Izel! Humein bhi toh dekhna hai Irfaz ne muh dikhai pe kya diya hai!" Chachi urged excitedly.

Dewan quickly chimed in, "Wait... wait! Proper mahaul bana ke kholna. Koi dupatta do yaar!"

Ammi chuckled and handed him her scarf. "Dupatta nahi, yeh lo scarf."

Dewan dramatically placed it over my head like a veil, making everyone laugh.

"Okay, bhai, so now you can finally have your muh dikhayi rasam," Dewan announced, clapping his hands dramatically.

Irfaz smirked before kneeling down in front of me. He lifted the edge of the scarf slightly and, instead of just completing the ritual, he did something entirely unexpected he slipped his head under the scarf and placed gentle kisses on both my eyes.

"Bhai, Aashiqui 2 ka scene recreate nahi karna, sirf muh dikhayi rasam karni hai!" Dewan groaned, making everyone laugh.

Irfaz chuckled and finally lifted the scarf completely, revealing my face. His gaze softened as he looked at me.

"Mashallah, meri begum hai toh badi pyari," he said, his voice filled with admiration.

The entire room erupted into laughter and applause.

"Irfaz, mujhe nahi pata tha itne deewane ho jaoge apni biwi ke," Chachi teased.

Mom sighed dramatically. "Agar mujhe pata hota ke mera beta aise sudhar jayega, toh kab ka zabardasti shaadi karwa deti!"

Irfaz turned to her with a smirk. "Har ladki mein woh baat nahi hoti, Mom... aapki yeh wali bahu kuch alag hi hai. Warna kisi ki sirf aankhein dekhne se ishq-e-nazar thodi ho jata hai."

His words made my breath hitch. My heart stuttered in my chest as he handed me the gift, his fingers briefly brushing against mine.

I opened the box and gasped as my eyes landed on a stunning Cartier gold bracelet and watch. The intricate design and elegance of the pieces left me speechless.

"Irfaz, yeh bohot mehengi hai!" I whispered, still in shock.

"Mehengi cheezein sirf dukanon mein hoti hain, Izel... tumhare liye jo bhi loon, wo sirf ek chhoti si koshish hoti hai tumhari keemat ke barabar aane ki."

His words sent a warm shiver down my spine, making my heart flutter involuntarily. The entire room filled with "oohs" and "awws" as everyone witnessed the moment unfold.

"Bhai, ab toh hadd ho gayi! Yeh insaan pura Emraan Hashmi ban shuka h" Dewan teased, shaking his head dramatically.

Irfaz simply smirked, his eyes still locked with mine, while the laughter and teasing continued around us.

"Iski kya zaroorat thi, Irfaz?" My mother's voice cut through the moment, her tone laced with something that wasn't concern it was jealousy. "I mean, Izel doesn't even wear such expensive things," she added, her eyes fixated on the Cartier set in my hands.

I clenched my fingers slightly around the box. I didn't want to agree with her, because she was wrong. I had a good collection of luxury accessories I bought them for myself. But this... this was different. This was the first time someone else had gifted me something so expensive.

It felt awkward. 

Not because of the price, but because it was his gift. Something he had chosen for me. Something that, for the first time, didn't come with a price tag I had to pay myself.

I stole a glance at Irfaz, wondering if he caught on to my unease.

Irfaz's jaw tightened slightly, but his smirk didn't waver. He leaned back casually, resting his arm on the sofa.

"Aunty, mehengi cheez ka toh pata nahi... par jo cheez meri begum pe sajti hai, woh lena toh mera haq bnta hai," he said smoothly, his eyes flickering toward me with a knowing glint.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of my mother's gaze on me.

"Lagta hai aapne kabhi apni beti ki collection dekhi nahi ya phir gaur nahi kiya," Irfaz said, his tone calm yet sharp. 

I turned to him, surprised.

"Abhi bhi woh apni ungli mein permanent 4lakh ki Tiffany ki ring pehni hui hai," he added, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered toward my hand.

My breath hitched. He noticed?

I looked down at my hand, my fingers instinctively brushing over the delicate Tiffany ring I had worn for years. No one had ever pointed it out before not even my own family. It was just something that was there, something I never removed, a silent part of me.

This was my first gift to myself. The first luxury item I bought when I started earning a pretty good amount. It wasn't just a ring; it was a promise. 

A promise to take care of myself. To never depend on anyone. To remind myself that I was enough.

It had cost me around four lakhs, but its value in my life was far greater. It was a symbol of my independence, my struggles, and the silent strength I had built over the years.

{REB: Don't just be happy seeing from afar, thinking, 'Wow, Izel's husband gave an 8 lakh gift just for the muh dikhayi. When will we get ours?' Also, notice that Izel gifted herself something worth 4 lakh self-gifted.}

And yet, here was Irfaz, noticing something no one else ever had. A strange feeling stirred in my chest an odd mix of pride and vulnerability.

My mother's lips pressed into a thin line, but she forced a smile. "Haan, bas zaroorat se zyada bigad mat dena," she muttered before looking away.

I felt something stir in my chest a strange mix of emotions. Annoyance at my mother, a touch of embarrassment, and something unfamiliar whenever Irfaz spoke like that.

"Acha chodo, bhabhi yeh pehno bhi na!" Ayesha interrupted excitedly, grabbing my hand. "Hume bhi toh dekhnay do!"

Before I could protest, Irfaz took the bracelet from the box and, without hesitation, slid it onto my wrist.

"Baat toh sahi hai, Irfaz... itni bhi sar pe mat chadha do ki baad mein tumhare sar pe nachne lage," Bua interrupted, her tone laced with amusement but clearly supporting my mom.

I stiffened slightly, my grip tightening around the bracelet on my wrist. Of course, they had to say something. It wasn't enough that Irfaz gave me something so expensive they had to turn it into a warning, a reminder that I wasn't supposed to be treated too well.

I stole a glance at Irfaz, expecting him to brush it off or maybe even agree just to avoid unnecessary tension. But instead, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"Agar meri biwi mere sar pe bhi nachne lage, toh bhi mujhe koi problem nahi hogi," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a lazy confidence that made my heart skip a beat.

Ayesha giggled. "Waise bhabhi ke paas full haq hai aapke sar pe nachne ka! or apko unki ungli pe nachane ka bhi" she teased. 

The room fell silent for a moment before Dewan whistled loudly.

"Bhai, bas ab ek taaj bhi le aao... 'Majnu of the Year' ka award pakka tumhara hai!" he joked, making everyone burst into laughter.

-----

After the muh dikhayi ceremony, I headed to my room with my mini gang Ayesha and Dewan. As we climbed the stairs, Kinjal stood there, eyeing my wrist.

"Waah, Cartier ki bracelet... woh bhi 8 lakh ki," she said, taking my hand to inspect it closely. "Bracelet toh achi hai, bas kisi pe jaach nahi rahi," she added with a smirk.

"Koi toh iss ghar pe bhi jaach bhi nahi raha, humne kabhi kuch bola?" Dewan shot back instantly.

"You " Kinjal started, pointing at him, but I cut her off.

"Ahaa! Agar mujhse baat kar rahi ho toh seedha mujhse karo. Chhote pe apna rob jhaadne ki zaroorat nahi," I said firmly.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Kal ki aayi hui ladki mujhe batayegi ki mujhe kya karna chahiye? Apni hadd mein raho, warna...." she warned. "Waise bhi, aajkal chhoto ko bado ke beech bolne ki badi aadat ho gayi hai," she finished with a sneer.

I raised a brow. "Jab bade chhoto ka lihaz nahi karte toh chhote kyun karein?" I shot back.

"Chalo, ab hato. Pura din nahi hai mere paas bekaar ki behas karne ke liye," I added and pushed past her.

To my surprise, she dramatically pretended to lose her balance.

Ayesha and Dewan burst into laughter.

"Gayi bhais paani mein..." Dewan teased.

"Par yaha toh paani hai hi nahi," Ayesha added, making us all chuckle.

Kinjal's face turned an angry shade of red as she straightened herself, dusting off her outfit as if she had actually fallen into something dirty. Her eyes burned with humiliation, flickering between me, Ayesha, and Dewan, who were still chuckling at her expense.

"Bohot hasi ho rahi hai, na?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Dekhna, bohot jald yeh hasi cheekhon mein badal jayegi."

Dewan smirked, unfazed. "Bohot filmy dialogue hai, Kinjal. Thoda naya try kar lo."

Ayesha giggled, nudging my arm playfully. "Haan, kuch fresh sunao. Yeh toh puraane serials ka lag raha hai."

I didn't bother hiding my amusement. Watching Kinjal struggle to maintain her composure was strangely satisfying. She was used to being feared, to having control. But today? She was losing both.

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought she might lunge at me.

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, her heels clicking against the floor in rapid succession.

The moment she was out of sight, Dewan let out a low whistle. "Yeh toh sach mein bhais paani mein gayi lag rahi thi."

Ayesha giggled. "Aur upar se bechari ka koi rescue bhi nahi karne aaya."

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. But deep down, I knew this wasn't over.

Kinjal didn't lose easily.

And if she had walked away without another word... it only meant she was planning something worse.

Something told me this was just the beginning. but i dont know 'khushiyon ki ya meri barbaadi ki?'

------

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