"I stand in the kitchen, my feet glued to the cold, tiled floor. The fluorescent light flickers above me, casting eerie shadows that dance across the pale walls. I can't move. My face is pale, like the porcelain dishes stacked neatly in the cupboard." Something is hurting on the left side of my chest. Ah, am I having a heart attack? What did I just witness? I clenching my fists with frustration ,"I hate myself".

"Fifteen minutes earlier, I had been blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just outside the kitchen door."

"Aunt Reha, do you have any leftover rice?" Shocked! Is he here? Why is he here? I'm talking to myself again. Ah, this is tiring.

We live in the same building—not him, my aunt and grandmother. She lives on the ground floor, and we live on the first floor. By "we," I mean me and my unfavored family.

"Yes, I have, Mehru. Take it out from the fridge, but first heat it up, and heat some for me too," my aunt said. We looked at each other. Suddenly, her voice shook me up, and I walked towards the kitchen.

Why is he here? Why? But whenever I see him, I get excited and nervous. Ah, I'm blushing. I spread the rice in a pan and put it on the flame. While it was heating, I was listening to their conversation from inside.

They are talking about several things—my aunt and him. He likes to talk and wants people to just listen to him. Suddenly, his voice cracks. Is he mad about something? What happened? I didn't listen at first because the rice caught my attention. I quickly took them out on a plate and then tried to listen more closely. Why did he raise his voice when he said to my aunt with so much pressure and anger, "I don't want to!" Muazam's voice echoed in the small kitchen. His hands clenched into fists. "Why don't you understand?" He paced back and forth, his frustration palpable. "Should I repeat it twice?"

Has Aunt made him mad about something? She's always like that. Why is she saying something that pisses him off? Ah, I rolled my eyes annoyingly. Then I heard him say, "I don't want to include myself with Mehru in anything. Why don't you understand? Why do you bring up that marriage topic again and again? We are still too young for something like this. I want to focus on my career first, and I don't think marrying a relative is a good idea. Please don't mention this again. I also feel disrespected," he said with a high volume and anger, trying to emphasize his point. He wanted her to believe that he was speaking seriously, that he was in his right mind, and that he meant everything he said.

I am too stunned to move. I swallow and inhale, holding my breath. I don't want to release it; I want to choke myself. What did I just hear? The plate in my hands feels like it's going to drop, but it would make noise. Does he know I'm still here? Doesn't he care that I might have heard him when he raised his voice?

Fifteen minutes later...

I came to my senses and ran upstairs. I didn't realize how many stairs I climbed; I just wanted to disappear. I shouldn't cry over such things. Let me figure out what happened earlier. Was I rejected by him? This is too humiliating. Ahhhh, I cried inside until I reached the lounge of my house and sat on the sofa to calm my mind. I didn't have any tears in my eyes. I was just startled. I didn't cry until my sister came and asked what happened to me, why I looked so pale. When I saw her, I broke down. I cried as if I had lost a kidney. Huh, is that funny?

My mother follows the voices into the lounge, and now she's here to see me at my worst. I hate it. I hate when someone sees me crying or at my lowest, but they are my family. Isn't it okay? I don't know what I'm feeling because a mix of emotions is hitting me everywhere in my body. I'm confused, angry, heartbroken, annoyed, and sad. Ahh, it's really annoying not to know what I'm exactly feeling. Am I okay?

"What happened exactly? Can you tell us?" my sister, who is seven years older than me, asked. My mom's eyes were on my opening mouth, waiting for me to start speaking. Why am I being pathetic right now, like a child who lost his favorite toy? Ahh, I'm a sixteen-year-old woman; I have to be strong. But why am I crying? My full face is covered with tears, streaming down like a river. Am I crying with hiccups? What is it that makes me so sad, bringing me to this position? Yeah, I was just rejected by my first love, Muazam.

"We are cousins, not first cousins, but our family relations are a bit confusing. His father is my grandfather's uncle's son, like a brother, so his father is my father's uncle. But they are the same age and look younger than my father, so we don't call him grandpa; we also call him, as my father said, uncle. By my father's side, eventually, Muazam is my uncle. But we shouldn't forget that his father looks young, so we decided to be cousins. On my mother's side, my mother is his mother's cousin sister, so his mother is my aunt. Automatically, he is my cousin by his mother's side. So, he is my cousin and just two years older than me. His name is Muazam. Our names start with the same letter: Mehru and Muazam".

"What happened exactly? Can you tell us?" my sister repeated. I recounted the scenario I just witnessed, which broke me from all sides, with tears in my eyes, swallowing saliva, and hiccuping every second. I told them what I heard. My sister said, "Meherjan, why are you so sad about this? Does it really matter to you? You didn't even like him in the first place, so isn't it good that you're free from all the rumors of marriage with him circulating in the family?"

I stared at her for a minute and realized, yeah, I never told her that I had started to like him, so obviously, she doesn't know about it. I stood up, leaving them behind, and "I locked myself in the other room, tears streaming down my face. They were cursing him for being harsh, but I knew the truth. This wasn't just about family expectations. I had fallen in love with Muazam, and now, I had to figure out how to mend my broken heart."