Zayan couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed to see Rayyan face to face — not through screens, not in half-broken assumptions. He wanted the truth, raw and clear.
One evening, he found Rayyan alone near a tea stall close to the college gate. Without a greeting, Zayan stepped in front of him.
"Rayyan," he said curtly.
Rayyan looked up, startled. He knew exactly why Zayan was there — he could see the sharp question burning behind those cold eyes.
"Can we talk?" Zayan asked, though it sounded more like an order.
Rayyan nodded, moving aside to a quieter corner behind the stall. He could feel the tension radiating off Zayan like heat.
"Tell me one thing," Zayan began, voice low but cutting. "Why you? What do you have that I don't? Why did Mahira choose you?"
Rayyan took a slow breath. He had never been good with confrontation — but he also didn't want trouble.
"Zayan… she didn't choose me. There's nothing between us," Rayyan said honestly, his eyes steady.
Zayan's stare hardened. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying!" Rayyan pulled out his phone, scrolling quickly. He showed Zayan the messages Mahira had sent. Her apology. Her explanation. Her fear that Zayan would think badly of her if she hadn't lied.
"See this? She only said it because she wanted to keep her respect safe. She didn't want you to think she's like other girls. You know her, Zayan — she never talks to boys. Everyone knows how she is… pure, quiet, respected. She's not with me. She's not with anyone."
Zayan's eyes ran over the messages. Each word made something unclench inside him — a burning knot that had twisted his thoughts for days. So Mahira hadn't really lied to hurt him. She had lied to protect herself.
He stepped back. For a moment, he didn't say a word. Then he slipped his hands in his pockets, his voice calm but dangerous in its quiet certainty.
"Good. You did the right thing telling me."
Rayyan only nodded, relieved it was over.
That night, Zayan sat with Sahil on the terrace while the rest of the house buzzed with wedding lists and laughter downstairs. The warm evening air did nothing to cool Zayan's mind.
"Sahil bhai…" Zayan started, his tone unusually soft.
Sahil looked up from scrolling through bridal jewellery designs for Inaya. "Hmm?"
Zayan told him everything — about Mahira, the rickshaw, the lie, Rayyan's truth. Everything he'd buried for weeks came spilling out, but calmer now, because he knew the truth.
Sahil's face lit up halfway through. He knew how much his brother wanted Mahira — he had seen it in Zayan's eyes for years, even when Zayan never said a word.
"Don't worry," Sahil said, clapping Zayan's shoulder with a grin. "You want to meet her properly? Done. I'll arrange it."
"How?" Zayan asked, doubt flickering for a second.
Sahil smirked. "We're going to Delhi for the wedding shopping this weekend. Inaya will ask Mahira to come with us. I'll handle the rest — you'll get your moment. And after that… if you want her, then win her the right way."
Zayan's lips curled into a half-smile. He knew Sahil always kept his promises. This time too, he would.
Inside the house, Inaya's laughter floated up from the kitchen where she and Mahira were picking out dress colours — blissfully unaware of the silent plan being drawn above them under the soft stars.
✨ End of Chapter Five