Background / Story Premise

Just after his thirty-sixth birthday, Zaheer suffered a heart attack—a grim echo of the early deaths that had claimed the men in his family before him. Fearing he might not live long, he made one final wish: to see his son, Fakhir, married. The only girl he could imagine as his daughter-in-law was Ainni, his brother Habib's daughter. Though neither Fakhir nor Ainni had expressed any desire for this union, the elders moved quickly. Habib, constrained by his lower standing in the family, agreed without hesitation. His life and dignity had long depended on Zaheer's favor.

As children—Ainni, Fakhir, and Fahmi, Ainni's little sister—they had been raised more like siblings than cousins, connected by love rather than titles. They laughed, studied, and shared their lives under one roof.

Ainni Habib was fifteen. Sharp, focused, and always at the top of her class, she was ambitious and determined to achieve her dreams. Raised by her single mother, Ayesha, with her father absent after starting a new family elsewhere, Ainni had grown independent and self-reliant. Beautiful and graceful, she naturally drew attention, and almost half the boys at school were completely smitten by her, though she rarely noticed.

Fakhir Zaheer Shah, seventeen, was popular among his peers for his charm and wit. Unlike Ainni, he was not particularly smart or focused on academics. Tall and athletic, he had already brought recognition to his school with multiple accolades in basketball and tennis. Teachers and coaches saw a bright future ahead for him, but his sports achievements cleverly masked his academic shortcomings at school —much to the dismay of his father, Zaheer.

As they grew older, small tensions began to emerge between Fakhir and Ainni.. Fakhir, once cheerful and carefree, started to feel a quiet jealousy. He noticed how much his father loved and praised Ainni, supporting her in ways he didn't. Though loved, Fakhir struggled with his studies and often fell short of the expectations of the Shah family name.

Fahmi remained the sweet little sister Fakhir had never had—gentle, affectionate, and easy to be around. But with Ainni, things began to shift in ways he couldn't understand. He wasn't sure when the discomfort began—perhaps when Ainni started to grow into a young woman.

That was when Daadi Zaina, ever watchful, gave Fakhir a strict warning to maintain distance. To him, it felt unfair—he hadn't done anything wrong. Ainni's body was changing as she came of age, but suddenly the rules seemed to apply only to him. Ainni, now officially recognized as a "grown girl," had begun to act the part—more confident, more commanding. She treated Fakhir less like a peer and more like someone beneath her, correcting him, bossing him around, and keeping a distance that hadn't existed before.

To Ainni, Fakhir is only Immature , Stupid somewhat foolish.

Fakhir found it maddening. It wasn't just Ainni's new attitude—it was also the fact that he was losing a confidant. Not exactly a companion, but someone who had always been there. The only person, after his mother, who truly seemed to see him, someone who could guide him through... well, everything. Whenever mischief crept into his actions, she never hesitated to call him out—usually straight to Sameena—and always threatened to report him to Zaheer. Though in truth, she rarely did.

Ainni, who had always admired Sameena and Zaheer as role models, found the idea of marrying Fakhir—her childhood companion—strange and distant. Fakhir, meanwhile, was deeply confused. He loved Amna, his long-time school friend, while Ainni was his cousin with whom he had grown up. Amna had already told him that she wasn't against him, As she loved him deeply , but at their age, she wasn't ready to get married to help him fulfil his father's wish.

Yet with Zaheer's health failing and the entire family rallying behind his wish, the marriage of Fakhir and Ainni went ahead—not born of love, but out of duty, tradition, and the quiet hope that, in time, love might follow.

The Shah family hailed from the mountain regions, where the government allowed certain territories cultural and economic autonomy. Traditional customs held sway, and families exercised special rights in marriage and family law that the rest of the nation did not recognize. Under this privilege, the children were married: Fakhir, seventeen, and Ainni, fifteen—a technically child marriage, but permitted under the territorial law.

And so, the inevitable union was set into motion—a match long whispered about among the elders, now executed slightly earlier than expected. Relatives were informed, the wedding date fixed, and families began to arrive. The Shah household, once quiet, was again filled with joy, laughter, and bustle.

Though Zaheer's declining health still weighed heavily on everyone's minds, the happiness surrounding the upcoming wedding breathed new life into the home. For a brief moment, the weight of grief and history seemed to lift. As preparations progressed and the house filled with celebration, Zaheer himself appeared more animated and present, hope flickering once again in the hearts of those who loved him.

Fakhir and Ainni, around whom the union revolved, were included in every detail: the color of the wedding attire, the sparkle of the jewelry, the guest list, and even the flavor of desserts. Yet in all the noise and planning, no one asked the most important question—their consent. In the eyes of the elders, they were still children, yet they were being bound to a lifetime neither had chosen.

Ainni still couldn't fully grasp that the wedding was actually going to happen. She wasn't terrified—but neither was she calm. To her, it felt less like a life-changing event and more like being enrolled in another course she hadn't signed up for—like the stitching or baking classes the elders had once forced on her. Back then, she had protested, fought, sometimes wriggled free, and at other times quietly endured.

Now it was the same house, the same beloved people—Sameena and Zaheer, whom she deeply respected. Nothing felt wildly different. Nothing except one thing: Fakhir. The idea of him becoming her husband was unbearable. He had always been a constant presence—her cousin, the childhood irritant who had bossed her around under the flimsy excuse of "elder brotherly concern." Now, the thought of being his wife felt impossible.

The elders watched her struggle, but to them, it looked like harmless protest—a kitten pacing, meowing, clawing at the inevitable, too tender-hearted to cause real disruption.

And so they stepped into a life arranged for them by fate and duty. Two young hearts, bound not by passion but by legacy, now had to navigate a future no one could fully predict. As they walked this path together, only time would reveal whether love, patient and quiet, could find its way into their intertwined lives.

PS : This story is set in a fictional third-world country, Not India Not Pakistan ,Or it can be Any . I'm exercising my writer's privilege here..