100 Hours to Fall in Love

The celebrations had finally come to an end. All the relatives and friends had gone home, and it was time for me to leave too. For us to leave. For us to head towards our new home, a new life. But fate had a crude sense of humor and there was a last-minute delay.

I neither had an idea about the said delay nor was I interested in finding out. I just wanted to go home and possibly sleep in comfortable clothes.

I bit into the chocolate bar that my mother had left for me in the bride's room aka my room for the evening. There was no one around me and I was grateful for the change.

The wedding festivities had been hectic. The lights, the perfumes, the flowers, and shimmer and sparkles all around. To add to the circus, there was also the posse of relatives with their questions and unwarranted advice.

I shuddered at even the thought of all that I had to endure in the name of marriage. I had always dreamt of a simple, cozy wedding with a limited number of people. Maybe a destination wedding would have been perfect. But did I have the heart to trample over my parents' bubbling excitement of a grand native wedding? Absolutely not.

"No longer single," I said out loud, then I took another bite of the chocolate. Despite all this grand celebration being for me, and oh well, for him, too, I had not been offered anything to eat in the past four or five hours. Hadn't anyone heard that a starving bride was not a pleasant bride?

I heard the bedroom door open. My heart fluttered at the possibility that someone had come to inform me that it was time to leave.

However, I looked up and saw him.

Zayd. My husband. The man who was chosen as my life partner. The man who had willingly walked into this arranged marriage, just like me. The man who was probably satisfied with me as I was with him, at least, superficially.

He smiled softly and closed the door behind him.

I stood up and swallowed the gooey chocolate, as he approached me. Then I returned his smile.

"Hi," he said, eyeing the chocolate in my hand.

"Hi." I followed his gaze to the chocolate in my hand. "Um... I was hungry."

Is it weird to see a bride eating chocolate?

He looked away from the chocolate and into my eyes. "Yes, of course, I–I actually–"

I raised an eyebrow. He was fiddling with his hands and his eyes were anxious. This did not seem like first-time jitters to me. I had seen him getting nervous before and this was definitely not him being nervous.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my own heart clenching with an unknown fear. "Why did you come here? We're supposed to be leaving now, aren't we?"

He exhaled loudly, then gently held me by my shoulders, his eyes boring into mine as if trying to tell me something that he was unsure of.

I quivered at his touch. Why did this seem like a confrontation? Had something terrible happened?

"Tell me, Zayd," I said, my voice firm but calm. There was no need to assume things and panic.

"I have to go somewhere," he said, his eyes pleading, "I will be back in an hour. I promise."

"Where do you have to go?" I asked, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders visibly relaxed and I almost wanted to laugh at the silliness of my momentary assumptions.

"Somewhere important. I can't tell you now, but when I get back, I will. Just trust me, okay? I will be back, Daria." His voice was earnest and his eyes clear.

I smiled at him, placing my hand on his arm. "It's fine. I can wait for an hour. Why are you so worried about it, though? It's just an hour."

"Nothing. I'm feeling guilty for making you wait today of all days," he said, cupping my cheeks. "But you trust me, right?"

"I wouldn't have married you if there was no trust in this relationship," I said and removed his hands from my shoulders. "Now go. I'm waiting for you. Come back soon."

"I will, love," he said, walking backward. "I will. And then we will go home. Together."

"We will," I said, almost in a whisper, as I watched him disappear out of the door.

Why had such a simple goodbye left my heart feeling so heavy?

It had only been one hour.

"His phone is switched off, his car is gone, and no one knows where he is!" said Mom, her panicked voice echoing through the empty wedding hall.

"He will come back, Mom," I said, from where I was calmly seated on one of the chairs. "How many times do I have to tell you that he informed me before leaving?"

"Daria, then, where is he? Did he tell you where he's going?" asked Dad.

I bit my lip. "No. But he promised to tell me once he returns."

"Thought so," said Dad, a frown etched on his forehead.

On my other side, Zayd's family was equally tensed. His father was repeatedly trying to call him despite getting the same answer of Zayd's phone being switched off every single time.

His mother was sitting next to me, her lips set in a tight line. She was staring down at the floor, the same hard expression on her face whenever I glanced at her.

Had Zayd already predicted that his absence even for such little time would invoke so much panic among the two families? Was this why he had stressed so much on assuring me that he would be back soon?

"It's not such a big deal, Mom," I said when I saw her sweating. "It has only been a little less than two hours. He's not a kid who has gone missing. Just relax."

"Are you crazy?" she asked me, almost spitting out the words. "Your husband has disappeared for almost two hours on your wedding night and you are not worried? It's one in the morning, Daria! What work could he have at this time?"

"What happened?" said someone, before I could give a reply to my hyperactive mother.

I turned sideways to see Zayd's brother coming towards us.

"Where were you, Ryan?" asked his father.

"Uncle Amir's car had broken down and they were not getting any cabs. So, I had gone to drop them home. But what is going on here?" asked Ryan.

"Zayd's missing," said his mother, finally speaking up. "I'm sure he has run off with that woman. What I feared has come true."