SISTER'S HAPPINESS

Nayab stood quietly at the edge of the gathering, her hands folded delicately in front of her. The room was glowing—soft lights shimmering off the marble floors, the gentle hum of celebration in the air. Laughter, music, and warmth filled every corner of the palace as Maryam and Abdul Rehman's engagement unfolded like a dream.

Nayab's eyes found her sister—dressed in soft pastels, her smile radiant, her eyes sparkling with joy. Abdul Rehman stood beside her with quiet pride, his presence steady and sure. Together, they looked like a fairytale coming to life. Nayab's heart clenched, but she didn't let it show. She had learned long ago how to carry storms in silence.

She blinked a few times, holding back the shimmer in her eyes. No one could tell what she felt—on the outside, she was calm, poised, graceful. But inside, waves of emotion crashed hard. She had loved Abdul Rehman too. Not loudly, not with confessions—but with glances, quiet admiration, and silent hopes. But that love now belonged to someone else. To her sister.

And that sister was happy.

That's what mattered.

So Nayab smiled. It was soft, gentle—and painfully beautiful. She clapped when others clapped. She stepped forward to hug Maryam when the family gathered around. She complimented her dress, fixed a strand of her hair, and whispered in her ear, "You look like a queen."

Maryam hugged her tightly. "I'm so happy," she whispered back.

"I know," Nayab said, and meant every word.

She stood by Maryam's side the entire evening, helping with guests, guiding younger cousins, keeping her smile perfectly in place. Every now and then, her eyes would flicker to Abdul Rehman. Not with longing anymore, but with acceptance. Some love stories are meant to be lessons, not destinations.

As the evening went on, Nayab found a quiet moment to herself by a window. She looked up at the sky, the stars blurred behind the moisture in her eyes. She let out a deep breath.

"She's happy. That's enough," she whispered.

And just like that, Nayab turned back to the celebration—not as someone who had lost something, but as a sister who had given everything for love.

Written By

Sabir Ali

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