Hana’s POV

I stood up from the ground, wiping my face, and picked up the shirt that Maan had asked me to iron from the nearby table where he had placed it.

I walked into my room, pressed his shirt, and then went to the washroom to clean my face. After freshening up, I came out and made my way to Maan’s room, holding his shirt in my hand.

I waited for a few minutes before gently knocking on his door. When I didn’t hear a response, I knocked a few more times until I finally heard his voice.

"Who the hell is this?!" he yelled. I knew he was aware it was me at the door—after all, there was no one else in the house except the two of us.

"Maan," I called softly.

"Get the hell out of here!" His voice made me flinch.

"Maan... I... I ironed your shirt..." I stammered, barely audible, but I was sure he heard me. There was a moment of silence before the door suddenly flew open. He stood there, furious. My tears started to fall.

"Take that shirt and burn it! And didn’t I tell you not to show me your face? Now get lost!" he shouted directly at me and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. I stood there, crying. I had no idea how long I stood like that, but eventually, Maan opened the door again. He saw me still standing there but didn’t say a word—he just walked past me. I ran behind him, calling his name, but he didn’t look back.

"Maan... please listen to me..." He didn’t listen to a word I said and stormed out of the house. I stood at the doorway, crying.

••••••••••••••

After Maan left, I went back to my room and didn’t step out again. I lay on my bed, thinking about everything that had happened just a few hours ago.

Everything was going so well between Maan and me, but my stupidity had ruined it all. I called him again and again, but he continuously disconnected my calls.

I hated myself for hurting him again. I knew what I did was deeply painful. He must have felt rejected. He must have thought he didn’t mean anything to me. I desperately wanted him to know that I truly loved him—that he was the most important person in my life. But for that, I needed him to talk to me first. If he would just give me one chance to explain myself, I would erase all his doubts. InshaAllah.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a knock on my door. Marzi Aapi came in after that.

"Hanu, why didn’t you come for dinner?" she asked gently, but the moment I saw her, anger began boiling inside me.

•••••••••••••••

Author’s POV

Hana felt anger rise within her the moment she saw Marziya.

Yes—because of her, everything had fallen apart. Because of her, Hana had pushed her husband away. Because of her, her Maan didn’t even want to see her face. Why had she told her to stay away from him? He was her husband. He had every right—and Marziya had none—to interfere in her married life.

Hana sat up straight, glaring at Marziya with fury. In her heart, she blamed everything on her. Marziya frowned, noticing Hana’s expression.

"Hanu... what happened..." Marziya began, reaching to touch Hana’s head, but Hana slapped her hand away and stood up abruptly, cutting her off.

"You! You ruined everything!" Hana screamed at her.

Marziya was taken aback by her sister’s reaction. Hana’s angry tears began to fall as she continued glaring at her.

"Hana, what—" Marziya tried again, but Hana cut her off.

"Don’t talk to me, Aapi!" she shouted.

"Hanu... bacche kya hua hai? (child, what happened?) You’re scaring me," Marziya said, stepping closer, her eyes filling with tears at her baby sister’s rage.

"Oh! Now you care about me?" Hana asked with a sarcastic smile.

"Of course, I do. You’re my little sister—my blood..." Marziya began, but Hana didn’t let her finish.

"Oh, please, Aapi. If you cared, you would’ve never given me that stupid advice! You would’ve never told me to stay away from my husband! You always say that I’m your first baby, right? Tell me, if you had a daughter, would you ever tell her to stay away from her husband? To push him away when he comes close? To hurt him?" Hana yelled angrily, and that’s when Marziya realized something must have happened between Hana and Rumaan—because of her advice.

"What happened?" Marziya whispered, anxiety growing in her chest.

Hana chuckled bitterly. "Just like you wanted... Maan doesn’t want to see my face anymore. After I hurt him, why would he?"

She sat on the bed, dejected.

"Hana... if he’s angry at you just because you refused him, then that means, bacche, his intentions weren’t right. I understand husbands have expectations—but before that, he should accept you as his wife. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?" Marziya asked gently, cupping Hana’s face.

But Hana shoved her hand away and stood again.

"You don’t like Maan, right? You don’t want our relationship to work. And I know why—because now you like that Muneeb more than Maan! I heard you that day, Aapi. When Khala came to Fathima Aapi’s engagement, she said she wished she could make me her daughter-in-law. And you said if I weren’t already married, you would’ve surely given my hand to Muneeb. But Aapi, let me tell you something—you should’ve known one thing: if I weren’t married to Maan, and you gave me the choice to choose... I would’ve still chosen Maan. And I will choose him every time!" Hana yelled with fierce determination.

Marziya stared at her, tears streaming down her face, stunned that her baby sister thought so little of her.

But someone else was standing at the door—smiling. Feeling proud.

It was none other than Rumaan.

He had been on his way to Fathima’s room when he heard shouting from Hana’s room and paused. He had heard everything from “Do you care about me?” until now. And finally, he understood why Hana had pushed him away—because Marziya had filled her mind with the idea of staying away from him.

He had felt utterly rejected when she pushed him. He had even decided never to come close to her again. He thought eventually she would tire of him and ask for a divorce. But now—after hearing her confession, after realizing how much he meant to her—it filled his heart with pride and joy.

Now he wanted to feel that love. Now he wanted to see how deeply she loved him. Now he wanted to experience being truly loved. Now he wanted Hana, completely—before any thoughts of divorce.

And he knew Hana would come to him.

He smirked... and walked away.

"No! No, Hanu... I didn’t mean it like that... Trust me, I love Rumaan. And my Allah knows, Hana... I never wanted you two to be separated. I just feel like Rumaan might hurt you... and I couldn’t bear that," Marziya said, cupping her face.

"You know what, Aapi? Maan isn’t hurting me—you are. I told you, didn’t I? I can’t tolerate anything against him. But you never listened. So from now on, you’re not going to give me any advice or interfere in my married life. I can handle my personal matters. I don’t need YOU." Hana turned away coldly.

Her words shattered Marziya. She cried silently, placing her hand over her mouth.

Now she knew—no one could reach Hana where she had already gone. She shrugged her shoulders in defeat and prayed for her little sister.

Ya Allah... please save my sister. Hana’s blind love is going to break her. I know Rumaan’s intentions... and my innocent sister, blindly in love with him, will give him what he wants without thinking. Please, save her, Allah. Please turn Rumaan’s feelings into true love. Only his true love can save my sister. Please fill his heart with my Hanu’s love. Please, Ya Allah...

Silently, she left Hana’s room.

Hana turned and looked toward the door, her own tears finally falling. She had never spoken to her Aapi like that before. It hurt—but she couldn’t let anyone come between her and her Maan.

***********

The next day, Hana went to college with Kareem. She waited for Rumaan to come, but he didn’t. He hadn’t shown up at breakfast either. That’s when she knew—he was still angry at her. Before leaving for college, she had already made up her mind: she would do everything she could to earn Rumaan’s forgiveness.

She remained quiet the entire time at college. Kulsum noticed it and asked her a hundred times what had happened, but Hana gave her the silent treatment.

After returning home, she went straight to her room, took out a black dress—Rumaan’s favorite color—and headed to the washroom for a shower. After bathing, she got dressed and stood in front of the mirror, applying a light touch of makeup. Once she was done, she picked up the shirt she had ironed yesterday for Rumaan and walked toward his room.

Taking a deep breath, Hana knocked on his door. There was no response. She slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

She looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

Maybe he’s not home, she thought, and turned to leave. Just then, she heard the sound of a door opening.

She turned back and saw Rumaan stepping out of the closet.

Rumaan looked at Hana, surprised for a second, but then anger took over his face as he remembered how Hana had pushed him to the floor. He knew she had done it because Marziya had filled her head with warnings to stay away from him, but still, he was furious. He wanted Hana to beg for his forgiveness. And he could tell she would—she was dressed in black, just for him. She looked cute, beautiful even.

Rumaan shook his head to snap out of his thoughts and sighed in frustration.

“What are you doing here?!” he almost yelled. Hana flinched at the sharpness in his voice.

“Maan... yo... your shirt…”

“Burn it.” He cut her off coldly before she could finish.

“But… this shirt… it looks really good on you. You look handsome in it. And black is your favorite color… Look, I’m wearing black too… I know you’re angry at me, but that doesn’t mean you should burn your clothes out of anger. If you keep doing that, one day you’ll have nothing left but ashes...” she rambled, trying to lighten the mood, but Rumaan interrupted her again.

“Shut up!” he snapped, annoyed. He had expected her to apologize and plead for forgiveness, but instead, she was lecturing him about his clothes.

Hana gasped when Rumaan snatched the shirt from her hand and threw it onto the nearby couch.

“Maan…”

“I’ll do whatever I want. Now get out, Hana. I told you, I don’t want to see your face,” he said rudely. Hana stood there trembling.

“Didn’t you hear me?!” he shouted again. She closed her eyes in fear, her lips quivering, and tears began rolling down her cheeks.

“Fine. Don’t leave. I will.” He turned to walk away, but Hana grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Maan, please listen to me,” she pleaded. Rumaan tried to shake her off, but she held on tighter.

“Hana, leave me!” he said loudly, but she shook her head.

“Maan… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that… Marzi aapi told me it’s not appropriate… for us to be close… before ruksati (formal departure after marriage),” Hana said with a cracked voice and hiccups. He turned to look at her and jerked her hand away.

“Oh really? Your aapi told you that, huh? Stay away from me, right?” he asked. Hana nodded.

“Then what are you doing here? Your aapi said stay away from me, so do it! And wait your whole life for that ruksati… No, better yet, wait for the divorce papers!” he shouted in her face. Hana began to shiver in fear.

“No… no, Maan… Please don’t say that.”

“I’m not just saying it. I’ll actually do it. A girl like you… who disrespects me, who pushes me to the floor—made me feel like I’m some roadside pervert trying to harass girls—I don’t want any relationship with someone like that!” he yelled. Hana shook her head repeatedly.

“No… Khuda ki kasam, Maan (I swear to God)... I didn’t mean anything like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I…”

“Hana, I don’t want to talk to you. I’m getting late,” he said, heading toward the door. But then Hana ran to him and hugged him tightly from behind, making Rumaan freeze in place. He was startled for a moment.

“Maan… please don’t go like this. I’m so sorry. I really am. Please forgive me. I’ll never do anything like that again. Please, Maan… I… I love you. Please give me one chance… I’ll do anything,” Hana sobbed loudly, and a smile slowly crept onto Rumaan’s lips.

“Why should I give you a chance? So you can disrespect me again because of someone else’s words?” he said, removing her hands and turning to look at her. He felt a pang of guilt when he saw her face—red from crying, her eyes swollen, and loud hiccups escaping her lips.

Hana stepped forward and cupped his face with her small hands.

“No… No, Maan… I promise. I’ll never listen to anyone again, not even Marzi aapi. I’ll never let anyone come between us. I’m sorry. Please… please forgive me. I’ll do anything, Maan…” Hana begged through sobs. Rumaan was amazed to see her like this. Her desperation for his forgiveness made him feel victorious. He was no longer angry, but he had something in mind for her. A mischievous smirk played on his lips.

“So, you’ll do anything?” he asked. Hana quickly nodded.

“Yes… I’ll do anything,” she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“Are you sure?” he asked again.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll do anything for you,” she repeated, this time with a small smile, happy that Maan was finally talking to her.

“Okay… then…” he paused, crossed his arms over his chest, and continued.

“Kiss me."

“I will kiss yo…” Hana trailed off mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she realized what she had just said—and what Rumaan had actually asked her to do.

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