Fiza arrived at her house, feeling the weight of her decision to meet Tariq Moideen, a prospective groom, looming over her. She had approximately two hours to settle in and get dressed for the meeting.

As she stepped into the shower, she scrubbed herself vigorously, as if trying to wash away the lingering presence of Alan. Tears mixed with the water, and she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason for her sadness. She was, after all, taking control of her future and exploring the possibility of someone new. But the image of Alan breaking down in tears haunted her. Their relationship had recently been a constant cycle of pain, and it was clear they were wrong for each other. Yet, letting go was never easy.

Those haunting words of Alan echoed in Fiza's mind as she stood under the cold water, feeling it cascade over her face.

"I can never love anyone the way I love you."

She couldn't deny that their love had been intense, passionate, and tumultuous. But their relationship had also been marked by hurt, misunderstandings, and pain.

"I loved you for seven years, Fiza. Do you think I could just abandon you and be okay? I didn't move on, Fiza; I barely survived."

The emotional weight of their history bore down on her, making her question the path she was now walking.

She wore an anarkali dress, it's fit tailored to Farzana's measurements, causing it to hang slightly loosely on her slender frame.

Applying some light makeup, she left her hair to cascade down, effortlessly framing her face. Despite minimal effort, she exuded a natural beauty that was hard to ignore. A sigh escaped her lips as she took in her reflection in the mirror. All this for another man.

She attempted to assist her mother in the kitchen but was promptly shooed away. As she contemplated her impending meeting, a message from Alan appeared on her phone.

"Let me know how it goes," he wrote.

"Ok," she confirmed.

Tariq's family arrived, fashionably late by thirfy minutes.

Fiza's mother, graciously reheated the tea and samosas in the microwave to ensure a warm welcome.

Tariq himself was not unattractive and proved to be quite engaging in conversation with Fiza's father. He eagerly explained his startup venture, "We are working on a solution for people who want to do an extended staycation and work from different locations. It's a little bit like a time share."

"We're in the early stages, just a startup for now," he said enthusiastically. "But I have faith in our company. I think we'll grow into something significant. Of course, I'm also being realistic - I haven't quit my day job yet!" He chuckled, and Fiza's father joined in, finding Tariq's enthusiasm infectious.

As they chatted and laughed, Fiza couldn't help but think, "Maybe Pappa should marry him." Her irritation simmered beneath the surface at being excluded.

Fiza found herself drifting in and out of the conversation, her mind repeatedly returning to the feel of Alan's breath on her face, his arms and legs wrapped around her.

Tariq's father eventually suggested, "Maybe they can talk in private now."

Fiza's father nodded in agreement. After the ordeal with Faisal, he was naturally cautious about leaving his daughter alone with anyone. "Yes, Fiza, take him to the music room. Leave the door open," he instructed.

Caught in her thoughts, Fiza hesitated for a moment before finally getting up. "Yeah, this way," she said, leading Tariq to the music room, where they could have a more private conversation, albeit with the door ajar.

Tariq's excitement was evident as he entered the music room, taking in the sight of the various instruments. He asked, "Wow! Which instrument do you play?"

Fiza replied, "I play the piano. I heard that you play the guitar?"

In response, Tariq picked up the guitar and started strumming, humming softly along with it. Fiza couldn't help but laugh, and he smiled at her.

"Sorry, music will always be my first love," he said, setting the guitar aside. "I was distracted. Tell me about you."

Fiza hesitated for a moment, realizing that this conversation felt like an interview. She finally said, "You looked at my bio data..." Her voice trailed off.

Tariq chuckled, his easy laugh putting her at ease. "Pappa said you were the serious type," Fiza mentioned with a smile.

Tariq winked playfully. "Yeah, I'm very serious when I meet potential father in laws."

Fiza raised an eyebrow and asked, "Do you have any questions for me?"

Tariq nodded, then reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of paper.

Fiza couldn't help but laugh. "You came prepared!"

"Of course! This decision impacts my life in the biggest way possible, doesn't it?" Tariq replied with a smile.

He rolled his chair closer to her, and their arms brushed against each other.

Fiza suddenly had a vivid flashback of Alan twirling her and pulling her close. She gasped.

Tariq, misunderstanding her response, chuckled and quickly moved his chair a little farther away, shaking his head.

Tariq asked, "So, question one, do you want an arranged marriage?"

Fiza was taken aback by the very first question, and her reaction was immediate. Her breaths became rapid and shallow, her lips quivered, and she struggled to answer. She was so embarrassed! Tears welled up in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away with trembling hands.

Tariq observed her for a moment, then carefully folded his piece of paper and returned it to his pocket. He looked down at his hands, giving her the time and space she needed to regain her composure.

"Are they forcing you to marry, Fiza?" Tariq asked gently, concern in his eyes.

She shook her head in response, her tears continuing to flow. He maintained a thoughtful silence.

"Do you want to... talk about this?" he offered, his voice caring.

"I want an arranged marriage," Fiza replied between her tears.

Tariq stayed silent for a moment, processing her words.

"How long has it been?" he inquired softly, his hand reaching out to touch hers but she pulled away.

"What?" she asked, her eyes meeting his.

"How long has it been since you broke up with whoever it is that you are crying about?" Tariq questioned.

Her eyes locked onto his. He was intelligent, having graduated from both IIT and IIM. But did it really take a genius to figure out what was going on?

"About a month," she admitted.

"A guy, right?" Tariq inquired, wanting to confirm her sexual orientation.

"Yes," she responded.

"Why did you guys break up?" he probed further.

"He dumped me because he didn't think he was good enough for me. And then I realized that I deserved... better," she explained.

"So it's over?" Tariq asked.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"Are you still in love with him?" he asked gently.

She nodded, her voice trembling, "Yes, but I don't want to be."

He took a few moments to consider her situation. Then he offered his thoughts, "You are pretty hot."

Fiza chuckled at his straightforward comment. "If you have a twin, send her my way," he added with a wink. "But you need to figure out what you are feeling and what you want before getting into another relationship, okay?"

Her laughter filled the room, and Tariq seemed a bit puzzled by her reaction to his well meaning advise.

"Sorry, you said twin," Fiza clarified, still giggling. She pointed at the pictures of herself and Farzana that adorned the walls.

"Oh, you actually have a twin?" Tariq asked, a surprised grin forming on his face.

Fiza nodded, and Tariq burst into laughter. "Shit! No kidding!"

They shared another round of laughter, and Tariq couldn't help himself from teasing, "Well, where is she? Maybe I can..."

Fiza interrupted him with a warning tone, "Don't even go there," but she was smiling.

After their laughter subsided, Tariq turned more serious. "You know what, keep my number," he said, jotting it down on a piece of paper. "Hit me up when you're over that jerk or if you need a friend."

Fiza smiled and accepted the piece of paper. "Thanks."

He leaned in and said with a playful tone, "I'm not going to wait for you."

Fiza chuckled, replying, "Understood."

"How did it go?" Alan texted Fiza, his heart in his mouth.

He had the day off and since Fiza had left for Cochin, he headed back to Manipal. He tried watching "Stranger Things" on Netflix but couldn't get his mind to work. He knew he wasn't going to survive this.

He realized how Fiza must have felt when he had broken up with her. How had he managed those five weeks? He hadn't. He hadn't given himself no room to think. He was going to have to do that again.

He was going to pick up every shift available. He was going to exhaust himself until sleep came.

His phone buzzed.

"It went well. Nice guy." Was Fiza's response. Alan felt like the lump in his throat was going to choke him. He wanted to pick up the phone and call her, but he couldn't trust himself to talk.

"Are you going to marry him then?" He hit send. He was pacing in his room.

"No," was Fiza's response. It was like a wave of relief that washed over him. He exhaled sharply, having not even realized that he was holding his breath.

"Why not?" He asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

"He is not you."

Alan read and re-read that last message. Did that mean she still wanted him?

"If you are serious about me, ask your parents to approach mine." Was the next message he received.

He called Fiza, but she declined the call. "With family. The boy's side needs to initiate. Ttyl."

Alan smiled for what felt like the first time in months.

He called his mother, "Amma, I want to marry Fiza," he told her without preamble.

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end.

"We know that already, Alan. We were going to wait till you finished your course," his mother said, as though explaining to a child why he couldn't have ice cream before dinner.

"I don't want to wait. We don't want to. We can't wait anymore!" he said urgently.

"Why?" asked his mother immediately. "Is she pregnant?"

Alan laughed. "Amma, everything doesn't start and end with pregnancy."

"You'd be surprised," his mom said chuckling too.

"Can you and dad please talk to Fiza's parents?" he pleaded with her.

"Why? Are they still saying no again?" she asked him. She knew that Fiza had met Faisal for marriage, and since then, she had observed a change in Alan's behavior. He had become withdrawn, and after he returned to Manipal, he had hardly called her. When she called him, the conversations were short. She had repeatedly questioned if things were okay with Fiza, but he had denied problems.

"They aren't saying no. They just care about traditions I guess. The boy's side is supposed to initiate the process." Alan explained the little he understood about the cultural expectation from her side of the family.

"Okay, I'll discuss with your Achan and see what to do," she replied.

Alan's mother was genuinely relieved. Fiza had been a great influence in Alan's life, but recently there was more conflict and chaos as a result of their relationship than the stability it had initially promised. Nevertheless, she had witnessed firsthand how intensely in love they were. More than was normal or even healthy. But to separate them would be cruel.

Alan grinned. He was going to marry Fiza.

The next day, Fiza's phone call woke him up. It was 5:30 in the morning. He frowned.

"Hey, I wanted to catch you before you went to work," she said. She sounded hoarse, as if she too had just woken up. He smiled groggily as an image of a sleeping Fiza came to his mind.

"Fiz, babe, it's Sunday morning. Only emergency surgeries and post-op rounds."

"Sorry," said Fiza. That explained why his phone wasn't on silent. He intended to sleep until he had been called in for work.

"What is it, sweetheart?" He asked her, closing his eyes, imagining she was with him.

"Your parents called mine," she giggled.

That was really fast. He had just spoken to his mother about this yesterday. Could all this drama have been avoided if he had asked them to approach her parents earlier?

"They are deciding on when to set up the official pennukaanal," Fiza informed him, smiling to herself. If there was anyone she wanted to be decked up to see, it would be Alan. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

"But I've already seen the girl," said Alan, his morning voice low, referring to literal translation of pennukaanal - 'viewing the girl'. "I've seen every inch of the girl. I've touched..."

"Alan!" Fiza interjected. She was blushing, but it was true. She belonged to him. How could she ever have thought it possible to be with someone else? To have someone else touch her, be inside her. She shuddered.

"I love you, Fiz. You are my whole world, baby," he continued in his low voice.

Fiza felt goosebumps on her skin at his words.

"We have some time off in the month after next," Fiza reminded him.

"But we are going to Shahana's wedding, right?" he recalled.

"Yes, let's do the wedding. It's in Bangalore. And then I can go home, and you can meet us the next day," she suggested.

"Fine, I'll send Mom the dates," Alan said, smiling. "And Fiza?"

"What?" She whispered almost seductively.

"I can't wait to marry you," said Alan.

She kissed the phone.

**********************************************

Authors note

Damn! I'm a slow story teller. In my head, the story is so short! I've omitted a lot of details and still can't believe how long it took to get to this part!

Please comment so I know what you are thinking!
And vote ⭐️ if you like the story.
Thank you for reading!

Flu season, so getting really busy with work - lot's of sick kiddos. Flu B is particularly bad this year, please get your flu shot!

Updates may be slow.

❤️Faiza