Until It Was Real

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Sunday. My favorite day of the week.

But today? Today it was annoying me.

Why?

Because after everything that happened last night. I couldn't look Zaigham in the eye. Or my cousins. Or the butter, honestly. The butter reminded me of how soft his voice sounded.

Focus, Zoya.

Right now, the entire Khan family was sitting down for breakfast. Yes. Because apparently, in this household, even if the world is ending, breakfast will be served at exactly 9:00 a.m. sharp. No exceptions.

And everyone eats together. Whether you like it or not.

I was calmly sipping my orange juice, trying to blend into the chair like a quiet wallflower when.

"So Zoya, how are you?" Laiba said, all sweet and fake concerned.

Huh? Me?

"What do you mean, how am I?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You know... after last night... not being able to sleep for some mysterious reason," she said innocently, batting her lashes.

I choked on the juice.

Aaliya immediately rubbed my back, biting back a laugh.

"Careful, beta," Tayi Jaan said kindly from across the table.

I nodded, trying to recover, while silently planning Laiba's destruction.

Then I looked atZaigham.

Already looking at me.

With slight amusement.

I swear if anyone else noticed, I'd simply relocate to Mars.

My cheeks were officially on fire.

Then Laiba cleared her throat again, probably to say something even worse, so I kicked her under the table.

"OW! Why are you kicking me, you wild woman?!" she yelped.

"I'm warning you," I whispered, giving her a death glare. "One more word and your teeth will be floating in orange juice."

Across the table, I spotted Rayyan Bhai, Zaviyaar, and Zayyan Bhai all trying not to explode with laughter.

Ya Allah.

We were all silently bickering and fake-smiling when, Dad Jaan cleared his throat.

Oh no. Not again.

He glanced around the table slowly, his dramatic pause award-worthy, then finally said.

"Tonight, there will be a formal dinner in the Khan House. Just family members. We have some... announcements to make."

I blinked.

Huh? Another announcement? What now?

We all turned to each other like confused meerkats. Everyone shrugging. Blank stares. Slight panic.

Except, of course, the elders.

And of course... Mr. Calm-Under-All-Circumstances Zaigham Khan.

Sir was casually slicing his toast.

I swear, even when aliens invade Earth, he'll probably say something like, "I'll handle it after coffee."

Mama Jaan, setting down her teacup: "It'll be short. No need to panic."

Chachu, muttering: "That's what you said before Zoya's nikkah dropped like a bomb."

"Exactly!" I pointed accusingly. "And nobody warned me!"

Deeda, smiling knowingly: "It was fun, though. You looked so surprised, beta. Just like your mother did when—"

"Mama, please," Mamacut in sharply, giving her mother-in-law a pleading glance.

Chachi, fanning herself with a napkin: "I just hope this time it's not another surprise wedding. My blood pressure can't take it."

My heart dropped.

"Wait... it's not another wedding, right? Right?"

Zaviyaar, grinned, "I mean... you were the last victim. Maybe this time it's one of us."

"Or maybe... it's you again," said Zayyan Bhai, grinning wickedly.

"I WILL THROW THIS PARATHA."

I glanced again at Zaigham again.

Cool as ever.

Why is he always calm? Was he born in a suit and tie? Did he schedule his birth on a planner?

Last time we had this whole 'just family' dinner thing, it was my nikah announcement.

Which he knew about in advance.

So yeah.

Guess who's grilling him for answers later?

Me.

Definitely me.

I went downstairs, casually humming some nasheed like I was the definition of peace and spirituality. Until...

Mr. Akroo Khan came into view, sitting in the living room, dressed in a formal button-up.

Wait a minute... as far as I know, today isn't a workday.

Then why is he dressed like that? And why is Zayyan bhai ready too?

I frowned.

And Mama? Mama was in full Royal Chef Mode, instructing the cook with the intensity of a general planning a military operation.

Okay sure, formal dinner tonight, I knew that. But these people were preparing like a princess was being air-dropped in from Dubai.

I considered asking Mr. Akroo what was going on...

But no.

Absolutely not.

Because asking him means voluntarily walking into awkward energy, questionable eye contact, and emotionally ambiguous silences, and I wasn't emotionally equipped for that today.

Mama would definitely tell me, "Go ask him yourself, Zoya."

Nope. Not today, Mama. Try again.

Just then, Nouran Api walked into the living room like an angel sent to rescue me from my overthinking spiral.

I zoomed to her side.

"Nouran api?" I said, casually but desperately.

She smiled. "Yes, Zoya? What's up?"

"Um... do you know where Zaigham and Zayyan bhai are going? I mean... it's Sunday, so like... no one works on Sundays... right?"

"Oh! They're going to the airport," she replied lightly. "You didn't know?"

I blinked. "Excuse me? What?"

She tilted her head, sipping from her coffee like she just dropped news about the weather.

"Yeah, they are going to pick up Mahveen."

The smile dropped off my face like Wi-Fi in a thunderstorm.

"Wait... what?"

"She's coming here to complete her graduation. Mama didn't want her staying in a hostel or hotel, so she'll be living here for a while."

"Oh... cool... great..." I said with a smile that probably looked like I was in mild dental pain.

Now, why was I shocked?

Because Mahveen was Zaigham's maternal cousin. His only Khala's daughter. But more importantly—

She was his number one fan, his shadow.

Oh, and she's 25. Great. Older than me too. Even better.

And now she was coming to live here.

Why was my blood boiling?

No reason. Just the minor detail that Mr. Akroo Khan is my husband, and I didn't enjoy the idea of him doing "old inside jokes" and "ha-ha childhood memories" with someone who once used to braid friendship bracelets for him.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

Wearing a crisp shirt like he's about to greet the queen, as he scrolled through his phone?

He is sitting ready like, was he going to pick up his cousin or welcome the Duchess of Cambridge?

I rolled my eyes dramatically in his direction, hoping the eye-roll wave energy would smack him in the soul.

And then, my phone buzzed.

Zaigham:Stop glaring at me, Mrs. Khan.

EXCUSE ME?!

My cheeks turned red. How does he always know when I'm looking at him, without even glancing up?? Does he have a Zoya Radar or what?!

I stuffed my phone into my pocket like it burned me and walked upstairs with fake peace and real rage.

I'm not an unwelcoming person, okay?

I have manners. I smile at guests. I offer chai. But something about Mahveen's name being dropped like a casual bomb... didn't sit right with me.

Ugh. Stop it, Zoya. Don't think these random insecure thoughts.

She's just his cousin.

Yup. Nothing to worry about.

Nothing at all.

We were all sitting in the living room. Kind of. Inaya was bouncing on the sofa like it had a trampoline feature.

"I'm sooo excited Mahveen is coming! She's such a fun buddy," she said with the energy of someone who had downed three cups of chai.

Zaviyaar didn't even look up from his phone.

Nouran Api gave a soft smile, while Laiba elbowed me with the force of a conspiracy theorist trying to get my attention.

"Do you remember what she looks like now? I mean, we met her only once, so..."

I squinted at her like she was asking me to name all U.S. presidents backward.

"Laiba, I don't even remember where I left my scrunchie five minutes ago. Why would I remember a cousin from a decade ago?"

She rolled her eyes. I swear, my family uses eye-rolls like punctuation.

Then Ruman Api leaned toward me and whispered like she was spilling state secrets.

"Zoya... you do remember how obsessed she was with Zaigham Bhai, right?"

I blinked. "Yeah, but like... only because they're childhood friends. Cousins. Normal stuff."

Totally nothing.

Absolutely meaningless.

My chest is not tightening. It's just a muscle cramp. Yup.

I was doing a casual scan of the room, when I saw Nouran Api blushing while looking across the room. Huh?

I followed her line of sight. Ayyan Bhai. Sitting like a whole Korean drama lead.. And Nouran api looked like she was about to compose a poem.

I jabbed Laiba with my elbow again.

"Ow, Zoya, seriously—"

"Look," I muttered, nodding in their direction.

Laiba looked. Smirked. And then...this menace of a girl...cleared her throat so loudly the poor lovebirds practically jumped out of their skin.

Just as we all settled into that post-gossip calm, a car honked outside.

"Oh my...they're here!" Inaya gasped and nearly knocked over a cushion.

Everyone...I mean everyone...stood up like they were welcoming royalty. Dada and Deeda came out from their room. Chachu and Chachi joined in. Even Mama emerged from the kitchen fixing her dupatta.

We all gathered at the front as the car door opened and a loud voice rang through the driveway.

"Assalam u Alaikum!"

She stepped in like she was arriving at her fan meet-up. Baby pink co-ords. Hair tied in a slick high ponytail. Scarf thrown over her shoulders like an Instagram reel thumbnail. Okay fine. She looked... pretty. Not that I cared.

"Wa Alaikum Assalam!" the chorus went up from all directions.

Tayi Jaan stepped forward first and pulled her into a hug.

"Look at you! All grown up and beautiful, mashallah!"

Mahveen laughed, full volume. "Thank you, Khala Jaan! I missed you sooo much!"

Taya Jaan raised a brow, mock serious. "So only your Khala was missed?"

She gasped. "Nooo, of course I missed you too, Khalu Jaan!"

Then came Mama, arms wide open. "Mahveen beta, welcome home!"

"Aww Aunty! You look exactly the same!" she beamed.

Dada stepped forward and patted her head, "You've become tall, haven't you?"

"And prettier too," Deeda added, smiling warmly.

Then Chachu chimed in, "So you finally decided to visit us."

"I had to! You're all my favorites," she laughed, hugging everyone.

She made her way around, hugging Inaya, Laiba.Ruman, Nouran Api, Aaliya, Ayat and finally—

Me.

I smiled, genuinely. Put my arms out. She leaned in and gave me a one-armed side-hug with the warmth of a frozen soda can.

"Wow. Look at you. Still tiny... still a kid."

She laughed.

I did too.

Externally.

Internally? I wanted to smack her with that pink scarf and say nobody thinks you're funny, hun.

Before I could say anything, she turned to Zaviyaar.

"Oh my God, Zaviyaar! I didn't even recognize you! You look so mature now."

Zaviyaar gave her a nod. "Wa Alaikum Assalam. Welcome."

I leaned toward Laiba. "Did she just say 'mature'? This is the same guy who spent an hour yesterday trying to beat his own score in Candy Crush."

She giggled and hushed me.

And then...Zaigham and Zayyan Bhai walked in through the side door.

Zaigham strolled in, hands in his pockets looking handsome as ever. Zayyan Bhai followed, cool and calm.

Mahveen's eyes lit up like someone flipped on fairy lights.

Zaigham's gaze briefly met mine. Just a flicker. Then he looked away.

Tayi Jaan put a hand on Mahveen's shoulder. "Beta, you must be tired. Go freshen up, lunch will be served soon."

Mahveen was still smiling at everyone like a campaign poster.

One of the house staff offered to show her the guest room and off she went, all smiles.

I exhaled and turned to head upstairs before anyone else roped me into small talk.

"Zoya," I heard from behind me.

I turned.

Zaigham.

Of course.

"Yes?" I tried to sound neutral but probably failed.

He looked right at me. "Can you make me a cup of coffee?"

"Sorry...What?" I asked like I had some ear problem.

I stared at him. "There are like five cooks in this house."

"And yet," he said, completely straight-faced, "I'm asking you."

"Why?" I narrowed my eyes.

He tilted his head, totally unbothered. "If you remember Chachi's order—"

I groaned. "Fine. Great. Happy to serve, Your Highness."

I made the coffee and took it to his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone, like nothing existed beyond that screen.

I placed the mug on the nightstand and stood there for a beat.

He didn't say a word.

Not a glance.

Not a thank you.

Seriously?

I folded my arms and cleared my throat.

He looked up, one brow raised.

"I brought you coffee."

"Yeah. I see that."

"And...?"

"What?"

"Are you allergic to saying thank you?" I asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

He tilted his head. "You want a thank you?"

I stared at him.

"Thank you," he said finally, still looking at me.

I stared at him for a second too long.

His voice dropped, a notch lower. "You've been avoiding eye contact since morning. Any particular reason?"

"Nope," I said quickly, already striding turning toward the door.

"Last night—"

"N-Nothing happened last night," I cut him off.

"Anyway," I muttered, opening the door, "enjoy your coffee. Or don't. I'm not emotionally attached to it."

I stepped out, closed the door gently..but firmly..and marched back to my room.

Behind me, I swear I heard a soft chuckle.

Ugh.

Lunch was always a noisy affair in this house.

I grabbed a plate, already eyeing the biryani like it owed me money. I was about to sit across from Zaigham.

But Mahveen floated in and sat directly in there.

Of course.

I let out a sigh and slid over to sit beside Aaliya.

"Pass me the raita please," Zayyan Bhai said.

"Only if you promise not to spill it on your kurta like last time," Nouran Api smirked.

"I literally dropped one spoon!"

"You dropped one bowl," she corrected.

Everyone laughed.

Mahveen was basking in the attention like a cat under a heater. She kept looking at every relative like she was checking if they missed her enough.

Chachi handed her a plate and patted her arm. "Beta, try this kofta."

"Aww Chachi, you are so sweet!"

Tayi Jaan was already scooping rice onto Mahveen's plate like it was her wedding dawat.

And then Mahveen spoke.

"By the way, Khala Jaan," she said, smiling sweetly, "I'm kind of upset with you."

Tayi Jaan blinked. "Why, beta?"

"You got Zaigham married and didn't even tell me."

My head whipped toward her so fast I think my neck cracked. I honestly feared for a second that my head might detach and roll into the salad bowl.

Zaigham?

No bhai?Nothing?

What in the Netflix-level plot twist was going on?

Tayi Jaan laughed, lightly. "Oh beta, the decision happened so quickly, there wasn't time to tell anyone. But now that you're here, you can attend the rukhsati and all."

And Mahveen? She went straight for the spice.

"So sudden, really? I never thought Zaigham would agree to marriage. Especially a forced one... and that too with Zoya."

I froze, hand mid-bite. My fork just hovered in the air like a drone waiting for a command.

That too with Zoya?

Excuse you.

My gaze darted to Zaigham, hoping for any kind of reaction. Outrage. A subtle eye twitch.

But nope. The man was chewing calmly, like the rice was the highlight of his day.

I rolled my eyes.

Tayi Jaan, bless her soul, just smiled. "Beta, some decisions are written by fate. And as for Zoya...she's grown into a very mature, sweet girl. We're proud of her."

I turned toward her and gave her a small smile.

But I saw it. I saw Mahveen's face twist like she'd just sucked on a lemon dipped in jealousy.

Before I could properly savor the victory, Mama nudged me. "Zoya, refill Zaigham's plate, please."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure, Mama—"

But before I could move, Mahveen was already up on her feet.

"I'll do it!" she said cheerfully, grabbing the serving spoon.

I blinked. She didn't just—

She did.

She refilled his plate. Right there. In front of everyone. Like this was some '90s drama serial and she was the loyal wife.

I stared at her like she'd just performed black magic.

Then I looked around the table.

Zaviyaar had paused mid-chew.

Laiba was frowning so hard her eyebrows nearly touched.

Nouran Api looked like someone just insulted her thesis.

Even Deeda had raised an eyebrow.

Because in this house, according to Deeda's gospel rulebook, only a man's wife serves him during family meals.

I sat back down, one eyebrow twitching.

I didn't say anything.

Didn't throw shade.

Didn't scream "EXCUSE ME, LADY, BACK AWAY FROM MY...HUSBAND."

But I swear to Allah, I considered smacking her with the serving spoon just once.

Just one light smack. Nothing dramatic.

I took a sip of water instead.

The sun was low, casting a warm gold across the Khan house garden. A giant tray of chai, cookies, and fries sat on the table in the middle. The cousins were scattered around the lawn, lounging on floor cushions and wicker chairs like they were born to sip tea and gossip.

Zayyan was balancing a samosa on his knee like it was a championship sport.

"You know," he said mid-chew, "if Rayyan fails his final again, I'll personally mail him a certificate that says 'Certified Dumbest Dentist Alive.'"

Rayyan rolled his eyes. "If I fail, I'll pull your wisdom teeth out without anesthesia."

"Ooh savage," Zaviyaar grinned. "Write that on your clinic brochure."

Everyone laughed. Laiba reached across the tray to steal a cookie from Ruman's plate.

"Excuse you," Ruman said, smacking her hand. "I have earned these calories. Get your own cookie privilege."

Zoya was sitting quietly beside Aaliya, hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea, pretending very hard not to look at Zaigham, who sat across her. And next to him was Mahveen.

Of course.

Where else would she be.

"By the way," Mahveen said, tucking her hair behind her ear in slow motion, "I've been thinking... Zoya, you're still not working, right?"

Zoya blinked. "No, not currently."

"Ohh, cute," Mahveen smiled, tone light but just sharp enough. "It must be so relaxing. Not everyone is built for the corporate grind, you know?"

Zoya smiled. A small, controlled smile. "You're right. It's exhausting. I tried watching your 'travel vlog' for five minutes. Slept like a baby after that."

Zaviyaar choked on his tea. Ayat giggled behind her cup.

Mahveen's smile twitched. She brushed nonexistent dust off Zaigham's sleeve and turned to him with the fakest innocent voice in history.

"Remember, Zaigham? When we were kids, and I used to make you eat kheer with cold drink? I was so annoying, right?" she said, placing her hand on his arm like she owned the rights to his memories.

Zoya's jaw clenched.

Zaigham blinked slowly. "That... was awful," he said flatly.

"Oh come on, don't lie. You liked it."

"No. I didn't."

He removed her hand discreetly, like brushing off lint. But Zoya saw it.

And she saw Mahveen catch her watching too...because Mahveen looked directly at her and smiled again.

That kind of smile girls give each other when they're not offering friendship, they're offering war.

"By the way," Mahveen added with a hum, "I'm thinking of staying longer this time. Maybe spend more time with family. Right, Zoya?"

"Right," Zoya said through gritted teeth.

Nouran cleared her throat loudly. "So! Who wants more fries?"

"Me!" Laiba said, half-shouting. "Also Zoya does."

Zaigham leaned back slightly, eyes calmly scanning the group and staying on Zoya. His jaw was tighter than usual. He hadn't laughed once.

Mahveen, oblivious or pretending to be, leaned toward him again. "Also, your cologne hasn't changed in years, has it?"

Zaigham barely turned his head. "I don't wear cologne."

Awkward pause.

Mahveen chuckled. "Oops. Must be someone else then."

"Oh wow," Aaliya muttered low enough for only Zoya to hear. "She's trying so hard."

Zoya didn't answer. Her nails pressed lightly into the cushion. Her cup had gone cold.

Mahveen looked toward Zoya again. "So, Zoya... how's married life treating you? You two seem... peaceful."

Zoya gave her a calm stare. "It's quiet. Can't complain."

A few cousins snorted behind their cups.

Zaigham's phone buzzed. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and stood up.

"Excuse me," he said.

"Where are you going?" Mahveen asked, voice perky.

He paused. "Away from this conversation."

Zoya's lips twitched.

He walked toward the house, and without thinking, Zoya got up too, muttering something about needing a refill and disappearing in the same direction.

I hadn't even made it to the fridge before I regretted following him in here.

The kitchen was dim, warm from the leftover heat of dinner prep. I was pretending I needed water.

He stood by the counter, back to me, sleeves rolled up, fingers toying with his phone. Even his stillness was frustratingly composed. How did someone stay this calm all the time?

I walked toward the pitcher and reached for a glass from the top shelf. The moment my fingers grazed it, my foot slipped on something, and the glass nearly crashed to the floor.

But before I could fall face-first into disaster, a hand caught me by the elbow..firm, steady.

Zaigham.

My heart gave a very inappropriate jolt.

"You alright?" he asked, voice low and far too close.

I nodded quickly, fixing my hijab. "Yes. I was just... gravity happened."

His grip loosened, but he didn't move away immediately. His eyes searched my face with that unreadable calm that only made my pulse worse.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the glass. "Thanks for the rescue. Very superhero of you."

A small smile tugged at his mouth like he knew exactly how flustered I was and was enjoying every second of it.

I turned away, focusing on pouring water, but my thoughts refused to behave.

And then...because my brain was apparently wired for impulsive outbursts....I blurted, "Why is she so touchy with you?"

The words were out before I could wrestle them back.

I froze.

Silence.

Dead silence.

I slowly turned to look at him.

He had one brow raised, arms folded across his chest. "She?"

I gave him a look. "Don't act dumb. Mahveen."

There was a pause, then a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hmm."

"Don't 'hmm' me," I muttered, sipping water just to keep from combusting.

"You sound jealous."

I choked slightly on the sip. "Excuse me?"

He shrugged like this was the most normal conversation ever. "You asked. About her touching me. That's... interesting."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm just saying, it's weird."

He tilted his head. "And if I touched someone like that, would you say it's weird too?"

I didn't answer.

Mainly because I didn't trust my mouth to say anything smart right now.

Zaigham took a slow step forward, voice calm. "Zoya."

"What?"

"You're jealous."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Zaigham."

"I've seen you roll your eyes every time she talks to me. You literally almost stabbed a fry during lunch."

"It slipped," I hissed.

"Mhm. From your hand. With enough force to commit homicide."

I pressed my lips together and turned away. But I could still feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, he turned to grab the water jug from the counter and added casually, "And you look like an angry bird right now."

My jaw dropped slightly. "Did you just—"

He walked out like he hadn't just set fire to my entire nervous system.

I stood there gripping my glass, trying to recover the pieces of my dignity. And heart rate.

Why, oh why, did he have to be so calm about everything?

And why did I feel like I was the one losing control?

The dining table looked like a food magazine cover.

I hovered near the chair between Laiba and Ruman, eyeing the plate before anyone else could snatch the best piece.

"Zoya," Mama called sweetly from the other end, "fix your dupatta properly, beta. This is a formal dinner, not cousin picnic."

"Formal dinners would be a lot less stressful if people stopped acting formal," I muttered under my breath, adjusting the dupatta.

Across the table, Zaigham sat calmly like always. Mahveen was practically glued to his side, pouring him water he didn't ask for and laughing a little too hard at everything he said...which, as far as I could tell, was nothing.

Aaliya leaned in toward me and whispered, "She's acting like she's auditioning for a drama serial."

I bit back a snort and nodded, "Yeah. One where the lead actress gets slapped in the second episode."

Laiba choked on her drink and earned a glare from Mama. "Control your volume, please."

Dinner chatter filled the air...Taya Jaan praising the mutton, Baba talking about office accounts, Deeda asking Ayaan bhai about the masjid expansion project. Chachu and Chachi busy in their own convo.

I was looking at Zaigham, "Zoya dear he is all yours, you can stare later first finish your food." Chachi teased.

I coughed.

Loudly.

Like choked-on-fried-chicken.

Everyone turned to me.

I waved both hands frantically, still mid-cough.

"Ya Allah," Nouran api whispered. "Zoya don't die, we are already planning one wedding."

Zaigham passed me a glass of water across the table, eyes unreadable as always.

I snatched it, took a few gulps, and hissed, "I'm fine. The chicken betrayed me."

Ruman patted my back while trying not to laugh. "It's always you. Every. Single. Meal."

Mahveen's face had twisted just slightly...like she'd bitten into a lemon. She gave a small smile.

Before I could answer with something that would definitely earn a Mama-glare, Deeda cleared her throat from the head of the table.

"Well," she began, "since everyone's here...and Zoya has successfully survived her battle with the chicken, we'd like to make a little announcement."

The table went quiet.

Dada nodded at Baba, who looked over at Mama. Taya Jaan looked proud, and Tayii Jaan folded her hands with a gentle smile. Something was happening.

My stomach dropped a little.

Taya jaan put down the glass, and said, "Next weekend, we'll be celebrating two beautiful events in this house. The rukhsati of our dear Zoya and Zaigham means their wedding..."

My eyes widened.

"...and the nikah of Ayaan and Nouran."

The room erupted into gasps, cheers, claps, and someone dropped a spoon (probably me).

Ayyan bhai was smiling looking down and Nouran api was blushing.

I blinked. My heart thudded loudly in my ears.

I looked up at him and he was already looking at me with unreadable emotions.

Mahveen's smile cracked...visibly. For one full second, her face couldn't decide if it wanted to smile or scream.

I looked down at my plate smiling lightly.

So it's happening now.....

To be Continued.....