Author’s POV
He was asleep when he felt someone’s fingers softly caressing his head. He stirred, trying to shield his eyelids from the sunlight. That hand lovingly brushed through his hair, and after a few minutes, Saim slowly opened his eyes.
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(blind by love 2) I stood there, hollow. All the air was sucked out of me. I couldn’t see anything—only 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 heart—and she slaughtered that trust so brutally. She crushed my soul. And she wasn’t anyone else but… my love of my life, my Dua. I stumbled back, eyes glued to them. She was so lost in him she didn’t even feel my presence. Taking a ragged breath, I turned away—unable to look at them for even another second. Stumbling, I stepped into the apartment. “Momin,” 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. “What happened?” she asked, voice trembling with worry. “She broke me! She broke my trust! You were right, Maham—she cheated on me!” Maham’s eyes widened. “What are you saying? What did you see—” I cut her off. “I 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!” I cried. Maham pulled me close, rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. “Momin ki dua qubool ho kar bhi adhuri reh gayi! Woh meri ho kar bhi mujhse door hogayi!” (The believer’s 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 Dua—she 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 couldn’t be happening. My life was already ruined, and I couldn’t let it be ruined any further. No! It can’t happen! I screamed inside my head and clutched my hair with both hands. “No. I don’t want this,” I whispered, my whole body trembling. “Adiba… please calm down. Listen, I need to tell you something. Just calm down,” 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. “I want to abort,” I said, and the softness on his face instantly hardened back into the usual anger. “What the f*ck did you just say?” he yelled, stepping toward me. But I didn’t flinch this time. I met his anger head-on. “I said I want to abort this sinful thing!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Shut the f*ck up, Adiba! This is not a ‘thing’ and it’s not sinful at all!” he shouted back, grabbing both of my arms. I glared at him with pure hatred. “It is! Did you forget you RAPED me?” I screamed, and his hands instantly released me. Pain flickered in his eyes. “Did you forget you raped a married woman?” I yelled, gripping his collar tightly. “I didn’t! But still… it’s not a sinful thing, Adiba,” he said, voice cracking. “It’s our… our halal child. You’re my… my WIFE, Adiba…” 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.) ★★★★ "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 you’re upset because of what you saw this morning, then you sho… shouldn’t be," I said, stuttering at the end. "I shouldn’t 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 heart—something I had never felt for her before. It made me realize that I was standing here with my second secret wife. ******** Isha Abdullah—a 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 mother’s 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 Malik—a 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 work—but that unexpected visit led Arshad to marry Isha. So, how did they get married? And how will they hide their marriage from the world? ★★★
“This is Rumaan’s child,” I heard Mama say. I didn’t look up at her. I kept my head lowered because I didn’t have the courage to face her. “This is not my child,” 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 couldn’t have said that. How could he? But as he looked away from me, my heartbeat stopped, my breath hitched. And that’s where he broke me completely. “HOW DARE YOU, RUMAAN!” Mama yelled and slapped him. “Mama…” he was shocked that his own mother had slapped him. “Don’t call me Mama!” she shouted, and was about to hit him again, but I stopped her. “No, Mama,” I said softly, and they all turned to me. I slowly got up and stood in front of them. “He’s right… this is not his child.” I put my hand on my stomach and spoke with tears welling in my eyes. But I didn’t let them fall in front of him—the man I had loved with all my being—because 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 couldn’t believe what I had just said. ★★★ Hana Rafeeq Mirza — 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 — a hot, handsome flirt, 23 years old. Famous as a playboy in America. He never valued the things he got easily… and that’s 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 him—that’s why he always took advantage of her. Will Rumaan ever realize his mistakes? Or… when he finally does, will it already be too late? 💔 Want to know? Yes? Then join their journey with me…
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