Chapter 174: Her big day

She could see how some girls were passing her looks of envy and jealousy. She wished those

girls, for a moment, could be in her shoes so they would know the state of her heart.

Her eyes were trying to search through the sea of people, and she just met with unfamiliar

faces. She didn't know a single being, and it was her wedding.

The big day of her life.

The day she had always dreamt of.

Having a loving husband was what she had always asked for. A loving, dashing, handsome

husband, rather, who would make every girl's eyes ogle when they looked at her man.

But Shehryaar, she knew, did not love her. Yet he was handsome. Extremely handsome.

Dashing. Every feature on his face was sculptured to perfection—his sharp jawline, high

cheekbones, sharp nose, and intense grey eyes. It made him the most sought-after bachelor

among business tycoons. Every girl wanted to be seen on his arm, to feel the touch of his

hand, to be the recipient of his intense gaze.

His aura exuded raw power and authority, his body oozing a dangerous magnetic vibe.

At times, she had found herself gazing at him so her eyes could absorb his features. His eyes

were one of those pairs of eyes one would desire to look at endlessly, hoping to unlock the

intricacies those grey orbs carried. Those perfect dark grey pupils were the most

mysterious thing one could ever encounter. That aura, that confidence he carried—none

had. His persona was powerful, intense, and mysterious, captivating others with a single

glance.

She still remembered the day he saved her from Rafay. Her heart had beaten so wildly. She

let him hold her. His grey eyes were all she had in her mind all night, yet she never

expressed the growing attraction she had towards him. His charms did lure her into his trap

until the day he demanded to spend a night with her. That day, everything changed. Her life

turned upside down.

And the result of that day was, the person for whom she agreed to have a one-night stand

with him was now long lost. She wasn't even aware of her condition anymore. The memory

of that one night still burned fresh in her mind. It was a night she had relived countless

times in her mind—every touch, every moment tattooed permanently in her memory. It had

been a night she never thought would have such drastic consequences.

And yet, here she was, married to the man she had only agreed to spend one night with. She

was his wife now, bound to him in holy matrimony.

The ceremony was about to conclude. The guests began to depart the villa after paying their

congratulations to the couple. And it was time for therukhsatinow.

Yet all Sheharzaad could think of was about Amna.

She wasn't here. On her wedding. The day they both used to manifest.

Was Amna alive or dead?

This was the question she had been asking herself since she got freed but couldn't gather

the courage to ask him.

She sat there sadly. Amna wasn't with her on her big day. None of her blood relations or

anyone close to her heart got to attend the ceremony, whereas, on the other hand, all of his

relatives, cousins, friends, and acquaintances were present. But she had none.

None to hug.

None to cherish the presence of.

None whom she could ask, "Was her make-up alright? Was she looking pretty?

Was she looking happy?"

And indulged in those thoughts when her eyes noticed a familiar face in that sea of people.

She squinted her eyes, frowning before her eyes widened upon realization.

"Amna," she whispered.

Slowly, tears gathered around her eyes, blurring her vision. A hiccup formed in her throat as

her hand tightly fisted herlehnga. All the memories hit her hard, the ones she created with

her.

She looked towards Shehryaar and found him gazing at her already, before moving her eyes

back towards Amna, who stood at a distance from her in a desolated area where there were

fewer people.

Again, Sheharzaad looked towards him, her eyes seeking his permission. Her lips separated,

letting out a shaky breath. The emotions took a toll on her.

"Go," he just said, and she didn't waste a second. She stood up and began to run towards

her.

She was seeing her after three months. Her heart quickened. The sight before her seemed

surreal. The distance between them vanished, and in a swift embrace, she tightly held onto

the person she had missed fervently. Her voice trembled, uttering the familiar name,

"Amna..."

Three long months.

Which seemed like decades.

And during that span, she was so clueless about Amna's life. Now she stood here, in front of

her, affirming that she wasn't dead. Her deepest fear was not true.

Sheharzaad wrapped her arms around Amna, placing her chin against her shoulder, and

began to cry. As if they met after years.

Her petite frame shook with her sobs as she hugged her tightly. Amna, too, enveloped her

arms around her friend—her sister—and tears started to flood down her eyes. She took a

step back, and her eyes slowly roamed her face. "You're real... right?" she whispered before

her hand gently caressed Amna’s face as her eyes scanned her carefully. "Is this a dream?"

"I'm so sorry, Shehar. I wish I could have died," she hiccupped.

Sheharzaad stood there, her body trembling as she looked at the tear-stained face of her

best friend. Every word she spoke made her heart twist in agony she had never felt before.

"Don't... say things like that... ever again," she replied, her fingers shaking as they once again

made their way toward Amna's face, wiping away the tears. "Y-You're not allowed to die...

do you hear me..." she added, her own tears streaming down her face.

"Where were you, Amna?" Sheharzaad found herself sobbing hysterically. All the bottled-up

emotions in her releasing ferociously.

"They... they released us... but they never let us meet you... no matter how much we tried,

Shehar," Amna told.

"Where have you been, Shehar?" They both disengaged.