Chapter 4

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Happy reading fam, and umm leave me anything(comments and vote ).  This song is by Shafqat Amanat Ali- Khairheyan De naal! I love this song. I hope you do tooo .

(I love color of the dresss

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(I love color of the dresss . Its by Ali Xeeshan incase you are wondering)

HAPPY READINGGGG !!!!

"Haya Haider , you are subjected to a marriage to Taimoor Hassan , with a Haqq mehr of 10 lacs. Do you accept. "Moulana asked .

I do. (Qabool hai )
I do (Qabool hai)
I do (Qabool hai)

She repeated three times. And her fate was sealed. At least, Taimoor is better than a rapist husband. She thought. She could not help but cry. Cry over her misery. Fate. Her broken dreams. A week had passed since that horrid indent but still she wasn't over what had happened. She wasn't able to accept that.She did not know what was happening. She felt dead inside. All she ever held dear was taken away. She felt betrayed. Her own family did not believe her. Her parents. Baba Jani's words kept echoing in her head.

"Come on in Haya, I'll lead you to Taimoor's room. It's not that you have never ever been there. You know your way but this time you'd be entering the room as his wife.", Aiman appi said as she winked. "Saman wants to call you bhabhi ? Taimoor told her it is cool." She said giving her a million-dollar smile.

Little did Aiman Appi knew why her brother had married her. She wasn't there when she was disgraced. She didn't know about her tarnished image. She didn't know anything at all. That was why she was treating her the way she was. With respect and love. But maybe she would have believed her. But why would she believe you? When your own family didn't, her brain was taunting her. And it all brought her back to that one question! Why would Taimoor believe her when no one did? They hated each other. And didn't he already had a girlfriend or someone he liked? Taimoor had informed her in one or other ways that he despised girls like her. The naive, indecisive, speak what's on their minds type without a filter. He had actually told her that he pitied the guy who would marry her. Who would have thought that , he would have to pity himself? 

It was too much to bear . Haya sat on the middle of bed while Aimen appa set her dupatta. On such short notice, there was nothing much that could be done .Haya was wearing her mother's shadi ka jora(wedding's dress) with some alterations. She had always wanted to wear her mother's jora .But not like this. The red dupatta was covering her head while she sat there, crying her eyes out. Atleast this way no one knew that she was crying. Aiman Appa left to get Taimoor,leaving Haya at the hands of her thoughts. She just couldn't breathe as her brain refused to accept the fate. The room was getting airtight and began spinning infront of her eyes and then it was all black as her eyes closed and she fell asleep.

Taimoor found Haya sprawled on his bed. Her head was resting on the headboard and she was sobbing words like 'Don't' and 'Please' and 'Help'. Her chest rose and fell as she twisted her head. By the looks of her, she looked distressed , and Taimoor couldn't help himself as he reached out to her. With the minimal makeup on, she still managed to look like a hoor. And the red she was wearing suited her. Taimoor sat beside her as he soothed her.

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