chapter 4

The silence that followed her father's words was deafening. Aisha sat frozen, the weight of her parents' plea pressing down on her, suffocating her. The warm night air suddenly felt cold, and the scent of jasmine from the garden now carried a bitter edge.

"Give us some time to think, please," Aisha finally managed, her voice raspy and strained. "I... I need to think."

Her mother nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. "Of course, darling. We understand. But please, don't take too long. The Khans are waiting for our answer."

Aisha nodded numbly, then rose and stumbled towards the house, her legs feeling like lead. She barely registered her parents' worried glances as she slipped inside and made her way to her small bedroom.

The room, usually a sanctuary filled with her sketches, her books, and the comforting scent of lavender, now felt like a prison. She sank onto her bed, the worn cotton sheets offering little comfort. The small wooden bird Rayan had carved for her pressed against her leg in her pocket, a painful reminder of the life she was about to lose.

Tears streamed down her face, hot and heavy, as she wrestled with the impossible choice before her. How could she possibly marry Zayn Khan, a man she barely knew, a man who belonged to a world so different from her own? How could she betray Rayan, the boy who had captured her heart, the boy with whom she had shared countless dreams beneath the mango tree?

But how could she condemn her family to a life of poverty and despair? How could she watch them lose everything they had worked so hard for, knowing that she could prevent it with a single word?

She spent hours tossing and turning, her mind replaying every memory she had of Rayan, every stolen kiss, every whispered promise. She remembered the day they had carved their initials into the trunk of the mango tree, a symbol of their everlasting love. She remembered the day he had given her his first painting, a vibrant depiction of the rice paddies at sunset. She remembered the day he had told her he loved her, his eyes shining with sincerity.

Each memory was like a knife twisting in her heart, a painful reminder of what she was about to sacrifice.

As the first rays of dawn crept through the window, painting the room in hues of gray and pink, Aisha knew that she couldn't delay her decision any longer. Her parents were waiting, the Khans were waiting, and the fate of her family hung in the balance.

She rose from the bed, her body aching with exhaustion, her eyes swollen from crying. She walked to her small writing desk and took out a piece of paper and a pen. With trembling hands, she began to write a letter to Rayan, pouring out her heart, explaining her impossible situation, and begging for his understanding.

It was the hardest thing she had ever done. Each word was like a drop of blood, each sentence a fresh wound. But she knew that she owed him an explanation, a farewell, a chance to say goodbye.

When she had finished the letter, she folded it carefully and sealed it with a tear-stained kiss. Then, she walked to her parents' room, her heart pounding in her chest.

They were already awake, sitting at the small kitchen table, their faces etched with anxiety. They looked up as she entered, their eyes filled with a desperate hope.

Aisha took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "I've made my decision," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her parents held their breath, their eyes locked on her face.

"I... I will marry Zayn Khan," she said, the words tasting like ashes in her mouth.

Her mother gasped, tears streaming down her face. She rushed to Aisha and embraced her tightly, her body trembling with relief. "Oh, Aisha, thank you," she sobbed. "You've saved us. You've saved our family."

Her father rose from the table and walked towards her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. He reached out and cupped her face, his touch gentle and loving. "You're a good daughter, Aisha," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You've made us very proud."

Aisha managed a weak smile, but inside, she was crumbling. She had made her choice, but it felt like she had condemned herself to a life of unhappiness. She had chosen duty over love, family over her own desires. And she knew that she would carry the weight of that decision for the rest of her life.

"I have one condition," she said, her voice gaining strength.

Her parents looked at her, their expressions wary.

"I want to be the one to tell Rayan," she said, her voice firm. "I owe him that much."

Her parents exchanged a look, then nodded in agreement. "Of course, darling," her mother said. "That's the least we can do."

Aisha nodded, then turned and walked out of the house, the letter to Rayan clutched tightly in her hand. As she walked towards the mango tree, her heart heavy with grief, she knew that she was about to say goodbye to her past, to her dreams, and to the boy she loved. And she feared that a part of her would die along with them.

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