The room was unnaturally quiet, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched beneath the red dupatta that covered my head.
"Qubool hai?"
The Maulana's voice echoed like a verdict.
My lips felt dry. This wasn't how I had imagined my marriage—not with fear tightening my chest, not with secrets weighing on my soul.
"Qubool hai," I whispered.
The words felt like chains locking around my life.
Across the room, he stood still—tall, calm, unreadable. There was no joy in his eyes, only distance. To him, this nikah was a duty. To me, it was a sacrifice.
This marriage was never about love.
It was a deal.
I was marrying him to save my family… and to bury a truth no one must ever know.
When our eyes met for the first time, something shifted. His gaze lingered, sharp and questioning, as if he sensed the storm behind my silence.
Tonight, two strangers were bound by nikah.
But between us stood fear, lies, and a secret powerful enough to destroy everything.
As the rituals ended and the room slowly emptied, one terrifying thought echoed in my mind—
This marriage would either become my salvation…
or the beginning of my ruin.