Felicity was dispersed in the air, delight reached its core when colorful lights adorned the home where the wedding was taking place.

The sound of songs was flowing around, cheer overflowing from everyone as they were preparing for the wedding.

"The color of your henna determines the love of your husband." Fariha giggled, patting her friend's back.

"It's just a myth. You cannot measure one's love." She replied, smiling sweetly at her hands filled with henna, holding the name of her groom.

"Why don't we try it on Erhan?" Fariha teased, pissing her off, earning a deep frown from her.

"What was that supposed to mean? Do you doubt my...