Part 6

Hello my dear beautiful readers so here is the chapter

Enjoy!

Do vote and comment

I WILL UPLOAD NEXT CHAPTER ON SUNDAY. I DONT GIVE TARGET BUT THIS TIME I WANT 20 COMMENTS ON IT SO TELL ME HOW YOU LIKE IT.

I sat in the quiet exam hall, my focus unwavering as I worked through each chemistry question. A few questions made me pause, and my heart whispered a prayer of patience. With each answer I wrote, I reminded myself that my efforts were in Allah’s hands. Alhamdulillah (Praise be to Allah), I completed it as best as I could, feeling a deep gratitude for the knowledge Allah had allowed me to gain. When the invigilator called time, I handed in my paper, murmuring a silent prayer of thanks. Turning to Abeeha and Sidra, I asked gently, “How did you find it?” They shared a soft smile, admitting the questions had been challenging. Still, we held a quiet pride in our hearts, having chosen honesty over ease.

As lunchtime approached, I felt the call of prayer stir deeply within me, a peaceful reminder of my duty as a believer. “Let’s get ready for Zuhr,” I encouraged my friends, a gentle reminder that softened my own heart. Together, we performed wuzu (ablution), each movement intentional and calming, washing away any lingering worries from the morning. I felt the coolness of the water with each step, purifying not only my body but my spirit. The verse echoed within me, Surely the Salah at fixed hours has been enjoined upon the believers (Quran 4:103), and I felt a renewed strength in my connection with Allah.

In that moment, standing shoulder to shoulder with Abeeha and Sidra as we offered our Zuhr Salah, I felt something beyond words—a closeness to Allah, as if my heart was entirely open and bare, filled only with devotion. I knew that Salah was my anchor, my reminder that Allah was always with me, guiding me even in the smallest moments. And I felt responsible, too, for encouraging my friends, gently reminding them of the peace and purpose Salah could bring.

After completing our prayers, we walked to the canteen, a lightness filling the air as we laughed and talked. When I reached into my bag, my fingers brushed against something unexpected. I paused, realizing it was a small roll of notes—my Di (older sister) must have slipped them in without telling me. My chest tightened, a mix of gratitude and a faint ache. I knew my parents hadn’t didn't gave me  lunch again; it had become something I quietly accepted. But Di, with her quiet kindness, had found a way to make sure I wouldn’t go hungry. I held the money tightly, whispering a prayer for her, my heart filled with a bittersweet gratitude. In moments like this, I couldn’t help but hold onto hope—that maybe, one day, I’d feel that same care from my parents too. Until then, I carried it patiently, trusting that Allah knew the desires of my heart.

We enjoyed lunch together, and for a moment, our laughter felt free of any worry. Yet, somewhere deep inside, a quiet longing remained. I couldn’t stop hoping for the day I’d feel that same, unconditional love I saw others receive from their parents. “One day, Insha’Allah (God willing),” I thought to myself, allowing the thought to settle with peace, holding onto my faith that Allah would fulfill the desires He placed in my heart when the time was right.

The afternoon classes passed quickly, and in the last one, EVS, the teacher announced a project. She placed Abeeha, Sidra, and me in the same group, which brought a gentle excitement among us. We decided to begin planning it tomorrow, and as the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, I looked at my friends, feeling a gentle sadness that lingered quietly. It was a weight I didn’t share—a longing, a silent prayer that I carried only in my heart. But within that sadness was a quiet strength, a reminder of Allah’s presence with me in every moment. He alone knew the depths of my heart, and I found comfort in that, knowing He was always with me, guiding each step with His wisdom.

On the other side, in the Malik mansion

Author's POV

As the call ended, Hamad’s father turned to face his wife and the family gathered in the room. He adjusted his glasses and said with finality, “They’ve agreed. The wedding will take place within the next fifteen days.”

The room filled with gasps and surprised glances. Hamad’s mother, Sabrina, exchanged a quick look with her sister-in-law, who was Hamad's aunt, as a flurry of excitement and anxiousness took hold of them.

“Aur iska matlab sirf pandrah din bache hain! (And this means we only have fifteen days!)” Sabrina exclaimed, her voice an equal mix of joy and urgency. “Hamare ghar mein ek aur beti aayegi, aur kitna kaam hai! Jaldi jaldi tayyariyan karni hongi… wedding planner bhi bulana hoga, aur sab kuch dekhna hoga! (Another daughter will enter our home, and there’s so much to do! We’ll have to hurry with the preparations… call the wedding planner, and take care of everything!)”

Hamad's aunt nodded, already mentally planning the grand celebration. The air buzzed with the pressure of the limited time, with ideas for decorations, menus, and outfits swirling around the women as they discussed.

Arsalan, watching his wife’s excited yet slightly anxious expressions, placed a calming hand on Sabrina’s shoulder. He chuckled, trying to ease her worries. "Tham jaaye, dulhe ki maa! (Calm down, mother of the groom!) Sab kuch apne waqt par ho jayega. Pareshan kyun ho rahi hain aap? (Everything will happen in its time. Why are you worrying?)”

Sabrina took a deep breath, managing a small smile as she looked at her husband. “Pareshani ka toh haq banta hai, Arsalan ji ,” she replied softly, her voice filled with the weight of responsibility. “Woh meri amanat hai jo ab is ghar ki izzat banegi. (It’s only natural for me to worry, Arsalan. She is my trust, who will now become the honor of this house.)”

Arsalan gave her a gentle nod, his gaze affectionate. “Insha'Allah, sab kuch khairiyat se hoga. Tum dekhti jao, yeh ghar kitni khoobsurti se sajega. (God willing, everything will go well. Just watch how beautifully this home will be adorned.)”

The family, feeling the gravity of the upcoming occasion, continued discussing the preparations, their voices filled with excitement and love, all while the thought of bringing a new daughter into their home blossomed warmth in each heart.

Sabrina POV

As I delicately adjusted my emerald-green shawl, my eyes sparkled with anticipation and a touch of nostalgia. "Alhamdulillah," (Praise be to God), I murmured, my heart swelling with joy at the thought of Hamad’s upcoming marriage. This moment was a cherished one, a culmination of months of gentle persuasion that had finally convinced my stubborn son to agree to the engagement. Hamad’s resistance had been a challenge, and though I’d had to remind him of my love and devotion, he had ultimately yielded. How proud I felt of him, how blessed I was to witness his steps toward this new chapter.

But I knew people would ask questions: How did Hamad and Inayah get engaged? After all, Inayah’s father was neither a close friend nor a business partner. The union wasn’t rooted in any strategic alliance but rather in a promise made between two hearts long ago. Hamad’s grandmother and Inayah’s grandmother had been inseparable friends, soul sisters in every way. Before passing, his grandmother had entrusted me with a final wish—to see her beloved grandson wed her best friend’s granddaughter. “Meri pyaari bachi , is rishte ko yaadgaar banao,” (My beloved, make this relationship memorable) she had whispered in her last days, a gentle plea that echoed in my heart ever since.

I had met Inayah a few times before the engagement, and I adored the girl’s nature—so kind, so gentle, so full of love. "Ma Sha Allah," (What God has willed), I thought, my admiration for Inayah unwavering. Inayah’s kindness was a balm to everyone around her, her voice soft yet confident, her gaze sincere. She radiated a light that I couldn’t help but feel might bring something new to Hamad’s life.

But as much as I loved Inayah, I felt a subtle tension around her family. They clearly loved their daughter deeply, but there was something else, a glint in their eyes that I could only describe as greed. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, yet the feeling lingered, like a whisper in the back of my mind. It was as though they were hiding something, a secret woven between their words and smiles. Once, my mother-in-law had mentioned that her best friend had two granddaughters, both cherished beyond measure. And yet, I had never seen the other girl, nor did Inayah’s parents speak of her. The mystery around this sister troubled me, but I told myself it was a family matter, something private. "Ye unka zati maamla hai," (This is their personal matter), I reminded myself, though I couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, whatever secrets they held, they were nothing compared to my pride in my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. Inayah would be family now. And  I had longed for the affection of a daughter. Though Hamad’s cousin Abeeha was like my own, precious and beloved, I yearned for that bond with a daughter-in-law who could share in the joys and sorrows of family life, the way only a daughter could.

"Inayah meri beti banegi," (Inayah will become my daughter), I thought, my heart swelling with love and hope. I had no daughters of my own until Sara’s child, Abeeha, was born. Abeeha, the younger one, with her quick smile and gentle nature, was my pride. But my heart had space for another. I would love Inayah, treat her as one of my own. Ya Allah, (Oh God), I prayed, give me the strength to be a good mother to her.

Inayah was no ordinary girl. She was sharp, confident, and strong-willed. I admired her poise, her grace, and most of all, her unwavering faith. "Wo roshni jo mere bete ka rasta roshan karegi," (The light that will illuminate my son's path), I whispered softly. Hamad had wandered far from the path of faith, the dark shadow of his past weighing heavily on him. I prayed Inayah might be the light in his darkness, the one to draw him back to the values he had long left behind.

With a soft sigh, I clasped my hands together, imagining the day I would welcome Inayah into our home, hoping with all my heart that she could be the answer to the silent prayers I had whispered for so long.

Author POV

Though Inayah was kind, gentle, and graceful—a picture-perfect match in Sabrina Malik’s eyes—what she didn’t yet realize was that Allah had woven a different path for her son, one laced with the mystery of fate and the beauty of unexpected blessings. Sabrina’s heart swelled with satisfaction, believing that Inayah’s warmth would melt Hamad’s cold, distant demeanor, filling his life with the light he sorely lacked. But the divine tapestry was painted in hues she could not yet perceive.

A silent truth lingered, unspoken yet powerful: the radiance destined to illuminate Hamad’s world would not be the soft, familiar glow of Inayah. It would be a light born from the shadows, a brilliance ignited not by gentle, easy warmth, but by a fierce, defiant spark that would force him to face his deepest fears, his hidden vulnerabilities, and his guarded heart. Allah had ordained a light far more intense, one that would shatter his darkness with a dazzling force.

For now, Sabrina remained unaware of the beauty that lay ahead, hidden in the folds of

So my dear readers i hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know maybe today's chapter is little boring but i want to tell you all that i wanna take every step of this book slowly. And today's chapter is little short but i promise to gave a long chapter on this sunday as these days i am really very busy.

Silent readers do vote and comment