"Waise by the way, aap ki itla ke liye arz hai k arjumand aur ruhi donon bahar beithi tum donon k shaadi ki tareeq the kar rahin hai. Ho sakta hai abhi kar bhi chuki hon. Asal mein hum log naik kaam mein dair nahin kiya karte. Haan waise agar aap donon chaaho toh tahqeeq ki bhi ja sakti hai."

"AGHA JAAN—"

Agha Jaan just laughed at them both. Wali smiled and kissed his grandfather. He'd never been happier. Faarah sat there, looking anywhere but at him, hardly daring to look at Agha Jaan, but she was smiling nonetheless. She was happy. But finally she couldn't take it anymore.

"Main zara aati hoon," she said standing.

"Arre beta kahan chalin?"

Faarah sputtered. 'Think Faarah think.' "Woh… Nahin Agha Jaan… who main nashte ka keh deti hoon. Aur phir aapko bhi toh davai leni hai. Mujhe bhi bohot bhook lag rahi hai. Main abhi bol ke aati hoon." She moved to leave but stopped as Agha Jaan spoke.

"Arre bhai nashta lag jaaye ga. Jaldi bhi kya hai? Tum abhi bhi kuch thaki hui lag rahi ho. Raat ko neend theek se nahin aayi ho gi. Tum aisa karo jaake fresh ho jao. Phir toh yeh shaadi ki tayyaariyon mein toh tumhe aaram karne ka waqt bhi nahi milega. Bahar Zarminey ne toh toofan macha diya hai abhi se."

A timid "Ji" with a bob of her head was all Faarah could muster as she left.

Agha Jaan chuckled as he saw his precious Farah so flustered, and turned his attention to his grandson.

"Aaiye Agha Jaan."

"Aao dulhe miyaan. Do ghari hum bhi baat karlein." He chuckled, knowing Wali had gone red from embarrassment.

. . .

Grateful to Agha Jaan for an out, Faarah ran to her room, swinging the door shut behind her, and came to a stop at the foot of her bed trying to catch her breath. She stood there for a while just breathing. Breathing, and then laughing. Here she was nearly a doctor, and giggling to herself like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She caught herself in the mirror. Standing there in last night's clothes, her eyes were swollen, her face was sallow, her nose ruddy, and her smile radiant. Pulling herself together, she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"Kya yeh waqai main hoon?" She asked herself. Was it her dishevelled appearance, or all the joy on her face? So much joy she thought her heart might burst. She had gained his trust, gained his love. She had gained Wali Suhaib Khan. 'Be still my beating heart,' she thought with a laugh.

As she watched herself, she began to realise just how exhausted she must have looked to Agha Jaan, with her face flushed from crying, her rumpled clothes, and her slight bedhead. 'Khair, nothing a hot shower can't fix.'

She went to her cupboard. She had to be careful what she wore today. It was as if today was a whole new beginning for her. Today was special. Today was her first day as his—well 'wife' sounded a bit redundant now, though she liked it. And 'dulhan' was a bit too dramatic. And then it clicked. There. Today was her first day as his. She had to look her best.

Rifling through all her kurtis and kameezein, she was at a loss. Nothing seemed right. Farah thought about all the gifts she'd been sent over the years. Clothes, jewelry, bags. Most of them ended up going to Iram. Faarah never kept any of them. She wouldn't even look to see what she'd been sent. She bit her lip, regretting letting all those clothes go. What would she wear now?

Suddenly, as if he'd read her mind and wanted to help, she heard him: "waise... achi lag rahi ho aaj." All those years ago when Agha Jaan had insisted on getting her a car. That was the first time he'd complimented her. She never gave him another chance to compliment her after that. Besides it hadn't been anything special. That day she had worn jeans and a white lace blouse. Simple. She hadn't even worn any jewelry.

She sifted throught the hangers until she found what she was looking for. She had snuck off to get Zarminey from Uni one day. It had been a half day, and they had decided to make a sneeky shopping trip together in Peshawar. Faarah had come back with a simple white lace A-line dress, with a high-low daaman. and just a smidgeon of silver paint work tracing out the leafy patterns in the lace. To go with it she pulled out a pair of white chooridaar tights, and a short, mostly pink and red chiffon dupatta.

She quickly made sure nothing needed to be pressed and hung the outfit up on the bathroom door before going in. quickly she undressed as the bath filled up behind her. Discarding her clothes in the hamper, she saw her hands shaking a bit. Trembling with excitement? She turned around, stepped into her bath, and held herself.