Zahra Aziz finds herself in a seemingly blissful relationship with her boyfriend. However, his manipulative ways lead her astray from her family and faith, blinding her with love. Just when she believes she knows him, a horrifying incident pushes he...
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There are moments in life that leave us pondering whether they are real or mere figments of our imagination. These moments etch themselves into our memories, forever treasured. Today, I find myself in the midst of one such moment. I sit before Zahra, a veil separating us, preventing our gaze from meeting. The echoes of laughter and celebration still resound in the air.
As the veil is lifted, her face comes into focus before my eyes. Her eyes slowly ascend to meet mine. Words fail to capture the intensity of the emotions coursing through me right now.
It's been more than a month since we agreed to get married, and now, she stands before me as my wife.
She... she is my wife now... It feels surreal. It seems like only yesterday she was the sister of my best friend, and now, she is my legally wedded wife.
✦ . ⁺ ♡ ⁺ . ✦
Zahra follows me into my house, her eyes eagerly absorbing the surroundings and It's her first time here so it's natural for her to be curious. I stand there, quietly observing as she ventures forth, her delicate hands clutching her lehenga.
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Her gaze shifts towards me, briefly meeting my eyes before nervously looking away. "Let's head upstairs, I'll show you around," I say, approaching her. I gently lift the long veil that trails behind her and gesture for her to follow. Together, we walk up the stairs and head straight to my room.
Just as before, Zahra takes a moment to survey my room before her eyes settle on the mirror to the side. I watch as she slowly approaches it, taking a seat in front of the mirror. Her hands instinctively reach up to remove the veil from her head, allowing it to fall to the ground.
She's just there, staring at herself in the mirror, not even blinking for a second. Since we got here, she hasn't said a word, and I don't push her either. Perhaps it's all happening too fast for her to process.
I slip my hands into my pockets and lean against the wall, silently observing her. How can someone be so beautiful? So unreal? I find myself struggling to tear my gaze away, as if I'm under some sort of spell.
