Chapter 51
The Abdullah estate had not echoed with this kind of laughter in years.
Warm lights stretched across the garden, glowing softly against the evening sky. The air carried a mixture of nostalgia and quiet anticipation—like something long lost was slowly finding its way back home.
Inside, the grand sitting room was alive.
"After all these years…" Mr. Abbas Abdullah said, his voice thick with emotion as he embraced Mr. Collins Rahman tightly. "You haven't changed at all."
Mr. Collins Rahman laughed, patting his back. "That's because life hasn't given me the luxury to grow old. And you too… aren't you the same, my friend?"
Mrs. Abbas Abdullah and Mrs. Collins Rahman stood close, hands intertwined, eyes shimmering with joy.
"Look at us," Mrs. Abbas Abdullah said softly. "From those struggling days… to this."
"And still together," Mrs. Collins Rahman added. "Still family."
They didn't need to say more. Their bond had survived time, distance, wealth, and heartbreak.
But tonight wasn't just about reminiscing.
It was about something bigger.
Something long-awaited.
—
Basit stood near the staircase, watching everything unfold.
He had heard stories about the Rahman family his entire life. Their name wasn't new—but their presence was.
And when Mrs. Collins Rahman walked in…
He froze.
Her presence felt… familiar.
Not just in a social way—but deeper. Unexplainable.
Especially her facial features.
Her grace.
The way she carried herself.
Even her eyes.
He narrowed his gaze slightly, studying her as she laughed with his mother.
Why does she feel… connected to something I can't place?
Before he could think further, his father's voice broke through.
"Basit, come greet them properly."
He walked forward, composed as always—but the moment Mrs. Collins Rahman turned fully toward him, something shifted again.
She paused.
Just for a second.
Her eyes lingered on him longer than expected.
"You must be Basit," she said, her tone warm but curious. "We've heard so much about you. You are fully grown now."
Basit bowed his head slightly. "All good things, I hope," he answered, filtering out the other words.
She smiled. "Only the best."
But even as she smiled, there was something searching in her gaze…
Basit felt it too.
And it unsettled him.
—
Dinner was served, laughter flowed, memories were shared.
Stories of school days.
Of when they had nothing.
Of the promise they made…
Mrs. Abbas Abdullah brought it up with a teasing smile.
"Do you remember? When we decided our children would marry each other?"
Mr. Abbas Abdullah chuckled. "How could I forget? It was sealed with nothing but hope and friendship."
"And stubbornness," Mrs. Abbas Abdullah added.
They all laughed.
But Basit didn't.
Because to him… it wasn't just a story.
It was a reality of something sealed before they were born.
And it was freaking him out.
"Their kids marrying each other… become in-laws? Or what did I just hear?"
He swallowed nervously.
"Hope it's not what I'm thinking."
—
As the evening deepened, the atmosphere slowly shifted.
Mr. Collins Rahman cleared his throat, exchanging a look with his wife.
"We actually have something important to share," he said.
The room quieted.
Mrs. Collins Rahman reached for his hand.
"We… we found her."
Silence.
Heavy.
Sudden.
Mrs. Abbas Abdullah leaned forward. "Found… who?" her heart skipped.
"Our daughter," Mrs. Collins Rahman answered.
The words landed like thunder.
Basit's heart stumbled.
"Oh no! Don't bring me in, I beg you…"
He looked down, not daring to meet his parents' eyes. He was afraid of the unknown.
"We haven't approached her yet," Mr. Collins Rahman continued. "We wanted to be sure… to observe… to understand her life before stepping in."
Mrs. Collins Rahman's voice trembled slightly. "But we are certain. It's her."
A wave of emotions spread across the room—shock, relief, disbelief.
Mrs. Abbas Abdullah gasped, covering her mouth. "After all these years…"
Mr. Abbas Abdullah shook his head slowly. "This is… unbelievable… Wonderful. Wonderful, wonderful," he repeated. "This calls for celebration, dear."
—
But Basit—
Basit felt like the world had just split in two.
Their daughter…
Found…
His mind raced. His chest tightened.
And then it hit him.
Will they tell me to marry her?
Since they had said it earlier…
Is he going to…?
No.
No.
No.
It can't be!
He was panicking inwardly.
I have someone I love already.
I just told her my feelings last week… how will I tell her?
When she had bared her heart to him.
When she asked for time.
When she…
No!
Never!
The girl he couldn't stop thinking about.
The girl he had been trying to explain to his parents—but was afraid they would pressure her.
The girl who felt like she belonged to a story bigger than herself.
His pulse quickened.
His fingers clenched slightly at his sides.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped back to Mrs. Collins Rahman.
He looked at her intently.
He had felt a familiarity the moment she walked in.
Why does she resemble Rihannat so much?
Is Rihannat the daughter they are talking about?
But she has her own parents…
What is going on, for Allah's sake?
Is it her?
His heartbeat accelerated.
It has to be her.
It has to be.
If not her… then no one else—unless she tells me no herself.
—
He barely heard the rest of the conversation.
Plans.
Careful approaches.
How to reach their daughter.
But all of it blurred.
Because one thought kept echoing in his mind—
They've found her.
And somehow… he already knew.
He was in trouble… or maybe blessed.
A double happiness—if it was truly Rihannat.
Which meant…
They had been bound long before they even knew each other.
Then another thought crept in, dimming everything—
What if she's not?
He was trapped in a dilemma.
—
The moment stretched on, painfully slow, as the families continued talking.
Basit glanced at the door.
Then at the clock.
Then back at his parents.
When will they leave?
For the first time in a long time, patience felt impossible.
He needed to tell them.
Needed them to understand.
Needed them to see what he had already seen.
That the girl he had been drawn to…
Was not just anyone.
She was their daughter.
His betrothed… or maybe not.
—
Finally, as the night began to wind down and farewells were exchanged, Basit stood still, watching the Rahman family prepare to leave.
Mrs. Collins Rahman turned back one last time, her eyes briefly meeting his again.
That same searching look.
That same unspoken connection.
Basit inhaled slowly.
Yes…
It's her.
The door closed behind them.
And the second it did—
Basit turned sharply toward his parents.
"Mum. Dad."
His voice was firm. Certain. Different.
"There's something I need to tell you."
His parents exchanged a glance.
"What is it?" Mr. Abbas Abdullah asked.
Basit stepped closer, his eyes intense.
"The girl I've been telling you about…"
He paused.
Then said it clearly—
"I think… she's the one."
Silence fell again.
But this time—
It wasn't the shock.
It was the beginning of inevitable.
A fate that could no longer be avoided.
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