Khabib came out of respect. You came because you had no choice.

The room was warm, traditional, filled with elders. Khabib nodded politely to everyone— until his eyes landed on you.

You weren’t talking. Just sitting quietly, the kind of presence that makes a room settle.

Then the elder stood.

“With Allah’s blessing, we announce— the engagement of Khabib and (you). It is the wish of both families.”

Khabib froze.

You froze.

He leaned slightly toward you, voice barely above a whisper.

“You didn’t know?”

“No,” you breathed. “I swear.”

He exhaled slowly, respectfully.

“Okay. Then we face this together.”

Not anger. Not hostility. Just a deep, serious acceptance and a quiet storm of emotions he refused to show.

The families celebrated. Elders congratulated you. Someone placed rings on the table.

Khabib stood beside you, solid as a wall, calm as a mountain, but his eyes… his eyes betrayed confusion, conflict, tension.

“Listen,” he murmured. “I don’t know what this will become. But I won’t disrespect you. No matter what.”