His DULHAN The fear & Nervousness

The fear & Nervousness

Ruhani POV ~

After what felt like an eternity, the car slowed to a stop, and my eyes widened as I looked outside. We had entered Malabar Hill, the most prestigious and wealthy area in Mumbai. I had never been here before. The streets were lined with mansions and towering gates, each house exuding power and wealth. This was a world I had only seen in magazines or TV shows—a world far removed from my simple existence.

The car turned into a grand driveway, and I saw it: The Mirza Mansion. The sprawling estate was breathtaking, its sheer size and elegance intimidating. The tall gates had already opened, and uniformed guards stood at attention as the car rolled in. I gripped the edge of my dupatta tightly, trying to calm the storm of nerves inside me.

As the car stopped in front of the grand entrance, my heart felt like it would leap out of my chest. Taha Zayan Mirza got out first, moving with the same calm, controlled demeanor he’d maintained all night. His face was stoic, revealing nothing of what he might be thinking or feeling.

I sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do. My heavy wedding dress, adorned with intricate embroidery and shimmering in the faint lights, felt like it weighed a ton. I glanced at him, hoping—maybe foolishly—that he might offer to help. But he simply stood there, tall and composed, his expression unreadable.

I let out a deep sigh. Of course, he wasn’t going to do anything for me. This was my battle. I reached for the car door, preparing to handle it myself, when suddenly it opened—by him.

Ruhani Taha Mirza/FL/

*surprise*

I froze, momentarily stunned. His face remained straight, his expression calm but distant. He didn’t say a word. And then, to my utter shock, he extended his hand towards me.

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process this unexpected gesture. I looked at his hand—large and rough, a stark contrast to my small, delicate henna-adorned fingers. For a moment, I hesitated. Was this formality? Politeness? Or something else entirely?

Ruhani Taha Mirza/FL/

*bite lower lips nervously*

Gathering my courage, I slowly placed my trembling hand in his. His hand enveloped mine completely, and I felt a strange warmth radiating from his touch, spreading through me like ripples in a still pond. My heart began to race, the sound of it filling my ears.

He held my hand firmly but not unkindly, helping me out of the car. For a fleeting second, I thought I saw something in his eyes—an unreadable flicker—but it vanished just as quickly. He didn’t let go of my hand, and I found myself walking beside him, my small hand still in his.

We walked together towards the grand entrance of The Mirza Mansion, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the quiet night. My heart was pounding, my mind swirling with questions I couldn’t dare to ask.

Now, I found myself sitting on the edge of his bed, my veil still covering me, making it hard to breathe. The soft fabric brushed against my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to lift it. I hadn’t dared to look around the room properly, but from the glimpses I caught, it was enormous—spacious and grand, like everything else in this house.

Candles flickered softly around the room, casting a warm, golden glow. Their light danced on the walls, blending with the delicate scent of roses. The floor was sprinkled with petals, and so was the bed—the same bed I was sitting on now, feeling more nervous than I had ever felt in my life.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest, and my hands trembled in my lap. My mind was racing, but at the same time, I felt… blank. Completely blank. The weight of the moment crushed me, suffocating me in its intensity.

What will happen tonight?

I had no answers to the questions that clawed at my mind. My thoughts spiraled, tangling into a chaotic mess.

Will he touch me? Can I let him touch me?

The thought sent a shiver through me. He was a stranger. An unknown man who had barely spoken to me, who hadn’t even looked at me with any hint of familiarity or warmth. And yet, he was now my husband. A husband I was supposed to share everything with.

Is this okay?

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to push away the wave of uncertainty that threatened to drown me. My mother’s words from earlier echoed in my mind:

Nafisa Siddiqui/Fl Mom/

"Beta, shaadi ke baad jo tumhara haq hai, wahi uska bhi haq hai. shauhar ka haq kabhi chhinn-na mat. Yeh tumhari zimmedaari hai, aur tumhe kabhi mana nahi karna chahiye." [ daughter , after marriage, the rights you have are the same rights he has. Never deprive your husband of his rights. This is your responsibility, and you should never refuse.]

It had felt like a command, something she believed was absolute and non-negotiable. But now, sitting here with my entire life ahead of me, I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted this.

The sound of the door opening startled me, pulling me out of my thoughts. My heart jumped as I froze in place, my breathing shallow and uneven. I didn’t dare lift my eyes.

He was here.

***