Author's POV
"Saim baig wald Hameed baig aapka nikah Aina baig wald Razzaq baig se kiya jata hai. Kya apko qubool hai?(Saim Baig, son of Hameed Baig. I am conducting your nikah with Aina Baig, daughter of Razzaq Baig, in the presence of two witnesses, with a haq mehr of 15 lakh rupees. Do you accept?)" Qazi Sahib asked.
Support me if you can. I want to achieve many things for my childrens as they deserve a better life and education.
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The stars were glowing above him, cold and distant, as if mocking him-reminding him that they still had something he had lost forever. A lone tear slipped past his lashes, silent at first, before his control finally shattered. Her smile. Her laughter. Her care. Her pout. Her anger. Her touch. Her love. Her face. The memories crushed his chest, stealing his strength. The years he had spent with her now felt like wounds tearing his heart apart. He had never imagined a day where he would be this alone. "Aahhh!" A broken scream tore out of his chest as his legs gave up. He fell to his knees, clutching his heart, crying hysterically. Today, all his endurance ended. He wasn't strong anymore-and for the first time, he wasn't ashamed to admit it. He couldn't carry this pain any further. It was too heavy, too sharp, too cruel. Suddenly, a trembling hand reached out and gently wiped his tears. He lifted his eyes and looked at that innocent soul-eyes swollen, face wet with tears, crying just like him. Something inside him broke all over again. Without thinking, he pulled that person into his arms. They clung to each other tightly, crying as if the world had ended, as if tomorrow didn't exist. In that moment, they didn't care about boundaries, about closeness, about anything at all. They only knew pain-and they let it drown them, together. Trope Love marriage Sisters love Forced marriage Emergency nikah Second marriage Huge Age difference Innocent heroine Rude hero Brother in law. Sister in law. Please look into the prologue once before leavingđ¤
"Lea⌠leave me," I stuttered, taking a step back. "How can I leave you?" he said, coming closer to me. "You li⌠lied to me," I said, continuing to take a step back, fearing this man who was standing in front of me. "Amna⌠love, don't do this⌠come here," he said softly. But I shook my head. "You are a monster," I whispered and hit my back against the wall. He stood in front of me. "I'm your husband," he said as a matter of fact. "You're not the one whom I loved and married," I said and put my hands on his chest to make some distance. "We should talk about this in the morningâŚ" He paused and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "Now shall we continue what we started before I had to leave?" he said with a smirk, coming closer to my face. "Don't touch me," I hissed, and he held me tightly. "Today is our wedding night, love, and you have no idea how much I longed for this day⌠so no one can stop me now," he said and crashed his lips on mine. I can't believe I loved this man. No! I didn't love this man. I love my Armaan, who was a kind and loving, caring person. But this man was a cruel, heartless man. And I hate him. He moved back and looked at me angrily. "My love⌠you have to respond," he said angrily, unzipping my dress. --- Amna Kareem â a beautiful, bubbly, confident 21-year-old girl. Her parents and her brothers love her way too much. She is the princess of their house. A doll made with glass. She hated violence. Armaan Akbar, a 26-year-old criminal, a secret mafia boss. Everyone knows and fears him to the core by his name, but no one sees his face as the mafia. He lives away from his family, but he loves them. He has an elder brother, Sameer, whom he loves and respects way too much. Amna and Armaan did a love marriage. Before marriage, Armaan disguised himself as a kind and loving person in front of Amna. Now Armaan will do anything to keep Amna with him because he loves her. Now let's see what he will do for his selfish love⌠and his selfish revenge.
"Ye maine kya kiya... ye maine kya kiya... Allah! I ruined him.. Azhaan." [What have I done... what have I done... Allah! I ruined him.. Azhaan.] She fell to the floor. "I am sorry! I am sorry! Azhaan! I am sorry!" She cried her heart out. Hareem was older than Azhaan, but he never cared. For him, age didn't matter. Love mattered, and he loved her beyond her imagination since they were kids. He always expressed it, but she never cared. His tease, his smile, his love-filled eyes only irritated her - but still he just kept loving her, quietly, year after year. Then one day, one misunderstanding, one lie she believed with her whole heart destroyed his happiness, his dream, his life, completely. He paid the price for the crime he never did. The Azhaan everyone knew was happy, full of life, always smiling. He laughed easily and loved without fear. But after that day, he changed. He stopped smiling. He stopped feeling. The boy everyone loved slowly disappeared, and a quiet, broken man took his place. Hareem doesn't know it yet, but she will find out the truth - and when she does, it will break her completely. Because by then, it will be too late to undo what she did. And somewhere in her guilt, something she never expected starts to grow - a quiet love for the boy she destroyed. A love she has no right to feel. A love she can never speak of. She watches him. Every day. Carrying a secret that could destroy his life even more if it ever came out. This is not just a love story. This is about guilt. About silence. About a girl who has to live with what she did - and a boy who lost everything because of a lie. â â â â
(blind by love 2) I stood there, hollow. All the air was sucked out of me. I couldnât see anythingâonly her. Infidelity. A cheater. She was there, kissing someone else, and I was here, waiting for my soul to tear out of my body. She cheated on me. She betrayed me. She shattered me beyond repair. I loved her with everything I had. I gave her my all. I trusted her with my whole heartâand she slaughtered that trust so brutally. She crushed my soul. And she wasnât anyone else but⌠my love of my life, my Dua. I stumbled back, eyes glued to them. She was so lost in him she didnât even feel my presence. Taking a ragged breath, I turned awayâunable to look at them for even another second. Stumbling, I stepped into the apartment. âMomin,â Maham called. Seeing me, she ran toward me and stood before me, concern written all over her face. I collapsed to the floor, too weak to stand. My breathing grew heavy; my vision blurred with tears. She sat beside me and cupped my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. My tears spilled. âWhat happened?â she asked, voice trembling with worry. âShe broke me! She broke my trust! You were right, Mahamâshe cheated on me!â Mahamâs eyes widened. âWhat are you saying? What did you seeââ I cut her off. âI saw her! I saw her kissing him! I saw her cheating on me with my own eyes! She is a cheater! She cheated on me! She broke me!â I cried. Maham pulled me close, rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. âMomin ki dua qubool ho kar bhi adhuri reh gayi! Woh meri ho kar bhi mujhse door hogayi!â (The believerâs supplication was answered but remained incomplete. She became mine yet drifted far from me.) I sobbed into her shoulder. I always called her Momin ki Duaâshe was mine, or so I thought. But now I realized she was never Momin ki Dua. She was never mine.
I stared at him, horrified. No⌠this couldnât be happening. My life was already ruined, and I couldnât let it be ruined any further. No! It canât happen! I screamed inside my head and clutched my hair with both hands. âNo. I donât want this,â I whispered, my whole body trembling. âAdiba⌠please calm down. Listen, I need to tell you something. Just calm down,â he said gently, trying to soothe me. But how could I? Did he forget what he had done to me? If he did, then I would remind him. I looked up at him and wiped my tears angrily, taking a breath before speaking. âI want to abort,â I said, and the softness on his face instantly hardened back into the usual anger. âWhat the fck did you just say?â he yelled, stepping toward me. But I didnât flinch this time. I met his anger head-on. âI said I want to abort this sinful thing!â I screamed at the top of my lungs. âShut the fck up, Adiba! This is not a âthingâ and itâs not sinful at all!â he shouted back, grabbing both of my arms. I glared at him with pure hatred. âIt is! Did you forget you RAPED me?â I screamed, and his hands instantly released me. Pain flickered in his eyes. âDid you forget you raped a married woman?â I yelled, gripping his collar tightly. âI didnât! But still⌠itâs not a sinful thing, Adiba,â he said, voice cracking. âItâs our⌠our halal child. Youâre my⌠my WIFE, AdibaâŚâ A single tear slipped from his eye. I stared at him like he had lost his mind. His wife? How could I be his wife? I was already married to someone else.
"Mai bhale hi sirf tumhara nahi hun, par tum sirf meri ho. SIRF. MERI. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik." (I may not belong only to you, but you belong only to me. ONLY. MINE. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik.) â â â â "What happened to you?" I asked, and she looked away from me. "No⌠nothing," she stuttered, but I could tell she had been crying. "You were crying?" I asked, more as a statement than a question, and she shook her head. "Isha⌠if youâre upset because of what you saw this morning, then you sho⌠shouldnât be," I said, stuttering at the end. "I shouldnât be?" she asked innocently, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. "She is my wife, Isha," I reasoned, and she gave me a sad smile. "So am I," she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek as she turned to the other side, leaving me frozen in place. In these two years, this was the first time Isha ever said that she was my wife. Even I never acknowledged her as such. We had hidden this from everyone. We never behaved like husband and wife, nor did we ever demand our rights from each other. So, hearing Isha finally mention that she was my wife stirred something in my heartâsomething I had never felt for her before. It made me realize that I was standing here with my second secret wife. Isha Abdullahâa beautiful 17-year-old girl. She lived in a small village, a place where girls were treated like trash. She lost her mother at birth. Her father remarried, hoping to give his daughter a motherâs love. But fate gave her a stepmother who was nothing less than a witch in disguise. She lost her father at the age of 12, and after that, her stepmother turned her life into a living hell. Arshad Malikâa handsome and kind 25-year-old man. A happily married man. He loved his wife dearly, the woman who had been his college sweetheart. He married her at 23 and lived with her in Dubai because of his business. They both returned to their hometown for some workâbut that unexpected visit led Arshad to marry Isha. So, how did they get married? And how will they hide their marriage from the world? â â â
âThis is Rumaanâs child,â I heard Mama say. I didnât look up at her. I kept my head lowered because I didnât have the courage to face her. âThis is not my child,â he said abruptly. I looked at him with wide eyes. I was beyond shocked. What did he just say? Did I hear him right? No⌠he couldnât have said that. How could he? But as he looked away from me, my heartbeat stopped, my breath hitched. And thatâs where he broke me completely. âHOW DARE YOU, RUMAAN!â Mama yelled and slapped him. âMamaâŚâ he was shocked that his own mother had slapped him. âDonât call me Mama!â she shouted, and was about to hit him again, but I stopped her. âNo, Mama,â I said softly, and they all turned to me. I slowly got up and stood in front of them. âHeâs right⌠this is not his child.â I put my hand on my stomach and spoke with tears welling in my eyes. But I didnât let them fall in front of himâthe man I had loved with all my beingâbecause now I was tired. Tired of crying for his love. I had been blind⌠blind in love, but not anymore. Everyone stared at me in shock. Even Rumaan couldnât believe what I had just said. â â â Hana Rafeeq Mirza â a beautiful, innocent, kind-hearted 20-year-old girl. Everyone loved, cared for, and respected her. Everyone⌠except the one she loved since childhood, her cousin, the love of her life. He neither loved her nor respected her. Rumaan Ahmed Mirza â a hot, handsome flirt, 23 years old. Famous as a playboy in America. He never valued the things he got easily⌠and thatâs what Hana was to him. Too easy. And he just wanted to get rid of her at any cost. He knew Hana was crazy for himâthatâs why he always took advantage of her. Will Rumaan ever realize his mistakes? Or⌠when he finally does, will it already be too late? đ Want to know? Yes? Then join their journey with meâŚ
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