Qa'id Mutalaq ✓

Chapter Seventeen

"Can't you just say a simple no," she said, and I sniffed. "It's not simple, Nazli," I replied, trying to control my cries but failing. I clenched my fist against my chest; it hurt, really hurt. I used to joke about it, used to think that people lied, but now I understand that it's true. Everything is true. Love hurts. Stupid love!

"Can you give me your phone, Nazli? I want to try one last time. I want to call him, please," I pleaded, and she nodded. She handed me her phone, and I dialed his number, but it was unreachable. I tried many times, but it was of no use. I sighed and placed the phone on the table.

"You guys can start," I said, looking at the makeup artists who were waiting. They smiled and started doing my makeup.

"I'll be your 'nobody' then."

I bit my lower lip, trying to control my tears. It was true. Nobody stays. I pressed my lips together as I looked in the mirror and sighed. What am I doing? Why am I even doing this? Wasn't I supposed to fight for my love? What's happening? Why can't I be happy in my life? Why can't I get anything I want?

I was being dolled up for someone I don't even know. I clenched my hands, my nails digging into my flesh. I still trust Allah. Allah will do something to stop this wedding. Please, Allah. I am a coward. I am not able to fight for my love. I am not as courageous as Khadija, who confessed to Prophet Muhammad (Sallallahu alayhi wa sallam).Please Allah only you can help me.

"All done," the makeup artists chimed, and I forced a smile. I avoided looking in the mirror; I wasn't ready to face myself, consumed by shame. But what if Mr. Min doesn't like me? I'd look like an idiot.

Each passing second felt like torture; with each tick of the clock, a part of me withered away. What was wrong with me? I wasn't usually this melodramatic; I hated melodrama. What had happened to me?

"Yazia, darling, please get yourself together. You know your mother. If she sees you like this, she will be devastated," Nazli hugged me, and I nodded. Putting on a fake smile, Nazli placed the veil on my face, and we walked downstairs.

My father and mother stood there. I smiled at them and kissed their hands, but my father's lack of happiness disappointed me. Was he still not pleased? I was literally killing myself for him. My mother smiled at me, but I knew it was fake. Her smile didn't reach her eyes; her beautiful eyes didn't crinkle or shine.

We entered the hall of our house, where everyone was present. That boy was there too, wearing a black tuxedo and perfectly styled hair. He smiled at me, but I knew I was ruining his life too. I couldn't love him, or anyone else for that matter. There was no love left in my heart; I had given it all away.

Sitting in front of him, the qazi began speaking. "Zayn Khan, son of Khan Zubair and Aabidah Khan. Yazia Hussain, daughter of Hussain Yilmaz and Zehra Yilmaz. Do you accept Yazia Hussain as your wife?" I bit my tongue, trying to control my anger. I was angry at myself.

"I accept," I said, feeling my heart beating loudly.

"Do you accept Yazia Hussain as your wife?"

"I accept," I repeated, my lips trembling as a soft sob escaped.

"I do," his words made my heart shatter into pieces. I looked up at him to see him smiling at me.

"Yazia Hussain, daughter of Hussain Yilmaz and Zehra Yilmaz. Do you accept Zayn Khan, son of Khan Zubair and Aabidah Khan, as your husband with a Mahr of 5 million won?"

"I accept," I drew a deep breath as I spoke.

"Do you accept Zayn Khan as your husband?"

"I accept," I said, my voice barely a whisper.