The confrontation was swift and bitter. Ayesha tried to make him believe that she always loved him and that it was her mistake. But Murtasim remained steadfast, his gaze never wavering from hers. "I'm sorry for what happened," she said. She was going to continue but murtasim cut her of saying "your apologies won't get anything now, I've moved on, and I've found happiness with Meerab."

Her eyes narrowed, the pain of his rejection clear. "I'm sorry murtasim for whatever happened. I know that what I did was wrong , but please can't you forgive me ? I'm sure we will be happy together." she requested.

"I'm trying to live my life, to honor my father's wishes, and to find happiness. And I believe I can do that with Meerab."

The silence that followed was deafening, the only sound the thundering of her heart. Ayesha searched his face, looking for any sign of weakness, any hint that he still loved her. But all she found was the cold, hard truth.

With a final glare, she turned and stalked away, her heels clicking against the marble floor like the ticking of a clock counting down to an explosion. Murtasim watched her go, his heart heavy with the finality of their conversation.

He turned back to Meerab, who was standing by his side. Together they walked towards their car. Meerab's hand were shaking slightly as she held onto the door handle. He walked over to her, his stride purposeful, and took her hand in his. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Meerab looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm fine," she said, her voice a whisper. But the tremor in her voice belied her words.

Murtasim nodded, understanding. He opened the car door for her, his hand never leaving hers. As they drove away from the wedding venue, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color outside the tinted windows, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The confrontation with Ayesha had been a necessary evil, a final exorcism of his past.

In the quiet of the car, murtasim saw that meerab was nervous so he reached over and took her hand in his.

Her eyes softened, the fear in them replaced by something new, something that looked suspiciously like love. "Murtasim," she began, her voice tentative. "I know you don't love me, but I need to tell you something."

He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "What is it?"

"I... I think I might be falling in love with you," she confessed, her cheeks aflame.

The car swerved slightly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He glanced at her, his heart racing. "Meerab," he said, his voice hoarse. "That's..." He trailed off, unable to find the words.

"I know," she said quickly, her own voice shaking. "It's not what we planned, but I can't help it. You've been so kind to me, so understanding. You've given me a home, a place to belong."

Murtasim felt a lump form in his throat. He had never expected this, never allowed himself to even consider the possibility. But as he looked at her, at the raw emotion on her face, he knew that he couldn't ignore it. "I... I care for you too," he said, his voice thick with feeling. "More than I ever thought I could care for someone again."

The silence that fell between them was filled with unspoken promises and unanswered questions. The city streets of Hyderabad passed by in a blur as they drove towards the mansion, their future as uncertain as the twisting road ahead.

When they arrived, the mansion loomed before them, a symbol of their new life together. Murtasim helped Meerab out of the car, his hand lingering on her arm longer than necessary. The warmth of her skin seemed to seep into his bones, filling him with a sense of belonging he hadn't felt in years.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

As they stepped through the grand doors, he knew that they were crossing a threshold, not just into their home, but into a new chapter of their lives. The weight of his father's wish, the memory of Ayesha's betrayal, all of it seemed to fade away in the face of the woman standing before him.

They climbed the stairs to their suite, their footsteps echoing through the halls. The mansion was quiet, the only sound the steady beat of their hearts. When they reached their door, Murtasim turned to her, his eyes searching hers. "Meerab," he said, his voice low. "I want to try. I want to see if we can make this work."

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, her smile tremulous. "I want that too," she whispered.

He leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a gentle kiss that seemed to hold all the hope and fear of their future. It was a promise, a vow that he would do everything in his power to make her happy, to be the man she deserved.

As they stepped into their suite, the door closing behind them, Meerab felt a sense of peace settle over her. For the first time since her wedding, she believed that maybe, just maybe, she had found her place in the world. And maybe, in the arms of this man who was now her husband, she could find the love she had always dreamed of.

The mansion, once a prison of duty and obligation, now felt like a sanctuary. As they stood together, their hearts beating together, she knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges. But with Murtasim by her side, she was ready to face them all.

But fate had other plans. The shrill ring of his phone pierced the quiet of the night, jolting them both from their hug. Murtasim's face turned serious as he looked at the screen, the name of his most trusted man in stark contrast to the softness of their embrace.

"What is it?" Meerab asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Murtasim turned away, the shadows of the room playing across his face. "There's a problem in the village," he said, his voice tight with tension. "I have to go."

Meerab felt a cold hand of fear grip her heart. The village was hours away, and the call came in the dead of night. What could be so urgent?

Dressing quickly, Murtasim explained that a feud between two families had escalated, threatening the peace that had taken years to maintain. As the feudal lord, it was his responsibility to intervene.

With a heavy heart, Meerab watched him leave, the mansion's grandeur suddenly feeling cold and empty. She was alone again, but this time it was different. This time, she had hope.

The night stretched on like an endless abyss, each tick of the clock a reminder of Murtasim's absence. She tried to focus on her studies, on the legal texts that had once been her salvation, but her mind kept wandering back to the kiss, to the promise of a future filled with more than just respect.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next morning, when Murtasim entered the bedroom, the sight of Meerab asleep brought him to a halt. She was curled up in the center of the bed, her soft breaths the only sound in the otherwise still room. It was 4 AM, the time when the world outside was at its quietest, and even the mansion's usual hum of activity had ceased. He watched her for a moment, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the peaceful expression on her face, and felt a strange stirring in his chest. He had never seen her so relaxed, so free of the burdens that had been placed upon her.

Slowly, he approached the bed, his movements deliberate and quiet. He didn't want to wake her, but he also couldn't resist the urge to be near her. He lay down beside her, his body fitting against hers like a piece of a puzzle. Her back was to him, but he could feel the warmth radiating from her, the gentle curve of her spine.

As the minutes ticked by, he felt her move, her body shifting towards him in her sleep. Before he knew it, she had wrapped her arms around his waist, her head nestled into the crook of his shoulder. He stiffened, his heart racing, unsure of what to do. But then, the tension began to seep out of him, and he found himself relaxing into the embrace. It was strange, this feeling of being needed, of being wanted.

He lay there, holding her tightly, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his chest. He had never felt so alive, so connected to another person. And for the first time in years, the anger and pain that had been his constant companions felt like distant memories, fading away into the night.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Meerab stirred, her eyes blinking open. For a moment, she was disoriented, her arms still clutching the warmth beside her. Then she realized it was Murtasim, his eyes closed in sleep, his breathing deep and even. She pulled back slightly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

But as she started to move away, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer. His eyes remained shut, but she could feel the tension in his body, the awareness of her presence. Her heart raced, hope blooming like a desert flower in the barren wasteland of her soul.

Murtasim watched her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a gentle sigh, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "For giving me a reason to believe in tomorrow."

The words hung in the air, a promise of what could be. And as they drifted off into the dawn, Meerab felt the beginnings of a love that she had never thought possible, a love born not of passion but of understanding and shared burdens. A love that, with time and patience, could grow into something beautiful.

With a trembling hand, she reached up to brush the hair from his forehead, her fingertips tracing the lines of his face. His eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, she saw something in their depths that made her heart leap. It was a look she had never seen from him before, one of tenderness and maybe, just maybe, a spark of something more.

They lay there in silence, the early morning light casting a soft glow over their entwined forms. It was a moment of peace, a brief respite from the storm that had been their lives. And as Meerab closed her eyes, she knew that she would cherish this moment, hold it close to her heart, and use it as a beacon to guide her through the trials that lay ahead.