“Zoyaaaaaaaa, hurry up! Your flight will leave you, not just Akif!!” Aarfa’s voice echoed through the house like a tornado with a mic.

Inside Zoya’s old room — now filled with glittering suitcases and perfume that smelled like dreams — the bride was running around in a lilac co-ord set, half-dressed, hair in rollers, phone ringing, Akif texting “5 minutes late = 5 kisses tax”, and her mom-in-law giggling behind the door.

“I’m never going to finish packing!” she cried, dramatically falling on the bed.

Her cousin Nida peeked in. “You packed 6 lipsticks, 3 perfumes, 4 books… but forgot your passport.”

“WHAT?!”

Screaming.

Flying dupattas.

Ten people running in ten directions.

Welcome to the Malik House.

Downstairs, Akif sat cool and collected in a black shirt and cargo pants, sunglasses pushed up like a Bollywood hero. His brothers teased him endlessly.

“So Bhaiya, Maldives honeymoon… Tell us, how does it feel to be a married virgin on day one of adventure?” 🙈

Akif rolled his eyes. “Better than being single and still asking your mom for pocket money.”

Roasted.

Upstairs, Zoya finally emerged — lilac and lavender hugging her curves, passport in hand, roller-bag dragging behind her, sindoor shining, cheeks flushed, looking like a literal dream.

And then… she saw him.

Waiting at the main gate with the car, leaning against it, arms crossed, jaw sharp, eyes locked on her like the sun had risen just to watch her walk toward him.

For a moment, the chaos faded.

It was just them.

Zoya ran the last few steps and he opened his arms instantly, hugging her tight.

"You ready, Mrs. Malik?" he whispered into her hair.

"More than ever," she whispered back.

Their parents stood watching, soft smiles, hopeful eyes. Her father nodded toward Akif, a silent prayer of trust. His mother fixed Zoya’s earrings one last time, whispering "Take care of my son. He’s strong, but you’re his weakness."

Ayaan opened the car door.

Aarfa slipped in a small wrapped gift into Zoya’s hand. “Open on the flight,” she winked.

It said:

> "To my best friend, who once cried over a K-pop group, now about to create her own love story in the real world. I’ll miss you, Jaan. Love, Aarfa 💜"

Tears. Smiles. Goodbye hugs.

The car zoomed off — full of laughter, teasing, kisses blown out the window, Zoya resting her head on Akif’s shoulder, his fingers brushing hers.

One journey had ended.

Another was just beginning.

Destination: Maldives.

Mood: Madly married & madly in love.

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