Chapter 19. Walima

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This update is especially for SlayingLife3

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The next day was a whirlwind of activity as the final preparations for Meerab and Murtasim's walima continued. The venue was adorned with elegant decorations, and the aroma of mouthwatering dishes filled the air. Friends and family gathered, dressed in their finest attire, to celebrate the union of the newlyweds.

As the evening sun began to set, the atmosphere became even more vibrant. Meerab, resplendent in her sky-blue bridal attire, looked radiant. Her dress was intricately embroidered, and her henna-adorned hands added a touch of elegance that matched her outfit perfectly.

Murtasim, sitting by her side on the stage, in a handsome blue suit, couldn't take his eyes off her. He was captivated by her beauty which was enhanced more so with her bridal attire.

As Meerab watched her parents arrive at the walima venue, her heart ached with a heavy burden of guilt. Her father, weakened by his recent heart attack, was now confined to a wheelchair, and his condition hadn't improved significantly. In the midst of the bustling celebration, she couldn't help but reflect on her own role in her father's deteriorating health.

Initially, she had blamed Mir Hadi, believing that her father's heart attack was a result of the stress caused by the events at her wedding. However, as time passed, she had come to realize that her own stubbornness had played a part in this situation. If only she hadn't resisted the marriage to Murtasim, Mir Hadi wouldn't have come into the picture and perhaps her father wouldn't be in this condition.

Tears welled up in her eyes, unshed and heavy with the weight of her guilt. It felt as though her decision had caused so much pain and suffering to her family, especially her beloved father.

Amid the turmoil in her mind, she felt a warm and reassuring hand gently squeeze hers. Murtasim, sitting by her side, had noticed her distress and offered his silent support. His ability to read her so easily and provide comfort when she needed it most had initially made her skeptical of his intentions. She had wondered if it was all an act to make her submit to the marriage willingly.

However, in that moment, as she looked into his eyes, she began to doubt her own suspicions. There was a genuine warmth and concern in his gaze that reached deep into her heart. Perhaps, just perhaps, he truly cared for her, and their union was more than just a forced marriage.

The evening carried on, filled with laughter and celebration, and Meerab felt the weight of her past decisions slowly lifting. Murtasim's presence and his genuine concern were like a balm to her troubled heart. She couldn't deny the growing connection she felt with him, one that transcended the circumstances of their arranged marriage.

As the night drew to a close, and guests began to bid their farewells, Meerab leaned closer to Murtasim, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you," she said, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and newfound hope.

Murtasim smiled warmly, his eyes speaking volumes of his love for her. "You don't have to thank me, Meerab. We're in this together, through every storm and every joy."

They left the walima venue hand in hand, united not only by marriage but by a growing understanding that had weathered the trials of the past. Meerab's heart felt lighter, knowing that her husband's unwavering support were guiding her towards a brighter future.

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As Meerab prepared for bed, she couldn't shake off the weight of guilt that settled in her chest. She watched Murtasim settling on the couch in their room, and a sense of unease washed over her. It was her decision for him to sleep there, and even though she had been the one to suggest it, she knew deep down that it wasn't comfortable for him.

Murtasim had consistently shown his consideration for her comfort and well-being, even when she had been resistant to their marriage. It had become apparent to her that he genuinely cared about her happiness and was always willing to make sacrifices for her.

As she climbed into bed, Meerab found herself unable to ignore the discomfort of her own making. She turned to Murtasim, her voice filled with sincerity. "Murtasim, you don't have to sleep on the couch. You can join me in bed."

Murtasim, who had been quietly going through his phone, looked up, surprise evident in his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, his concern for her comfort still apparent.

Meerab nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Yes, I'm sure. It's just that I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of me." She said quickly not wanting him to get any other ideas about her request.

With a grateful smile, Murtasim got up from the couch and joined Meerab in bed. They lay there in the quiet of their room, the guilt that had burdened Meerab's heart slowly dissipating. She realized that in this relationship, they were learning to care for each other's comfort and happiness, and that mutual consideration was slowly breaking down the barriers that had once separated them.

As they settled into bed together, a sense of peace washed over Meerab. She closed her eyes, grateful for the understanding and connection that was steadily growing between them, and for the warmth of Murtasim's presence beside her.

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Someone please tell me if it snows heavy enough in Islamabad for people to get stuck indoors? I have some ideas :)

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