Momin’s POV

I buried myself in work at the office all day, but still, my mind was with Dua. I hadn’t eaten anything. I couldn’t—not until I knew if Dua had eaten or not.

I came home at 6 in the evening. Just as I stepped inside, I saw our family doctor leaving the house. Rafay was with him. I assumed he must have come for Dadu’s routine check-up. But as the doctor walked out, Rafay spotted me and rushed forward.

"Thank God, Momin bhai, you’re here," Rafay breathed out, worry etched across his face.

"What happened, kiddo? Is everything okay? How’s Dadu? What did the doctor say?"

"It’s Dua Aapi… The doctor came to see Aapi," he replied, and my stomach twisted painfully.

"What? What happened to her?" I asked in panic.

"She fainted. Probably because she hasn’t eaten for two days. Mama, Papa, Dadi, Dadu, Maham—even I tried, but she’s stubborn as hell, refusing to eat. Since morning, Papa’s been pleading with her, but she didn’t budge. About an hour ago, she fainted. We all know that now… only you can make her eat."

The moment he finished, I ran toward Dua’s room. Dua was someone who couldn’t endure hunger. She was too sensitive—her heart fragile yet stubborn like hard rock.

"No! I said go! Please, Papa! My head is hurting. Don’t force me!" I heard her yelling as I reached her doorway. Standing there, I watched silently.

"Meri jaan (my life), please…."

"Maan, leave it," Hana aunty said gently, then glanced behind her—straight at me. "Let’s go. Leave her alone."

Rumaan uncle turned at her words and followed her gaze. When he saw me, I quickly looked away. Maybe they both realized it was because of me she was doing this. Without another word, they silently walked out. But before leaving, Rumaan uncle came to my side and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

"She didn’t say anything, nor did she ask anything from any of us. That means it’s only you who knows what she wants. I know you’ll make her eat. I trust you with her, Momin. Just don’t break my daughter’s heart." With that, he walked away.

As if I had been waiting to hear those very words—his trust, his consent, his decision made for himself—I finally exhaled.

I turned to look at Dua. Her back was facing me. Slowly, I went to her and sat behind her. Her body stiffened for a second, and a small smile crept onto my lips. She could feel my presence.

"Dua…" No response.

"Baby…" Again, no response.

"Love…"

"Meri jaan (my life)…" I called her by every name she loved, but still—no response.

"Okay, I’m sorry. But please talk to me."

"I don’t want to talk to you. You’re a liar," she mumbled against the pillow, but I could hear her clearly.

"I never lied to you," I said, slightly offended. I had never lied to her. How could she say that? She suddenly turned around and sat up on the bed.

"You always lie to me! You said you love me and will do anything I want. You said I’m your first priority. But guess what? I caught your lies! You just refused to marry me—making everything you ever said a lie. You rejected me!" she said with so much pain that my heart clenched.

I pulled her into my arms, wrapping her tightly. "No. No, baby. I never lied to you. Please don’t say that. I’ll do anything you want—just don’t hurt yourself. I can’t see you like this. I can’t bear a single tear in your eyes."

Pulling back, I cupped her face. "I will marry you. Whenever you say, however you say, wherever you say—I will marry you," I declared.

Her face instantly lit up, blessing me with her beautiful smile. Peace ran through my heart just seeing it. She threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

"Thank you, Momin. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much I love you," she murmured into my neck. I held her tighter.

"I love you too… Momin ki Dua (Momin’s Dua)," I whispered, kissing her head before pulling back. "Now please eat something."

I picked up the plate placed on the table and held it in front of her. She opened her mouth, demanding me to feed her, which I did happily.

"Did you eat?" she asked.

"How could I?" I replied. She huffed and scooped a spoonful of rice, feeding me in return.

"We will do nikah tomorrow," she said while feeding me.

"As you say," I smiled, feeding her back.

"So… how will we do this?" Dua asked while chewing.

I sighed. "I don’t know."

"You’re not happy," she stated, sadness shadowing her face.

I shook my head quickly. "It’s not like that, Dua. Marrying you is the biggest dream of my life—one we’re finally making true. It’s just that… I didn’t want our marriage to happen like this. But it’s okay. As long as you’re happy, as long as you’re with me—I can do this." I smiled genuinely.

Yes. I would do anything for her. Even if it meant betraying the whole world—I would gladly do it.

"I’m more than happy! It’s just… I couldn’t get a beautiful wedding dress. But it’s worth it. After all, we’re marrying secretly," she exclaimed excitedly.

I smiled at her excitement, but the tension within me still lingered.

---

Dua’s POV

"I can’t believe we’re going to be one," I exclaimed, holding Momin’s hand while he drove. He glanced at me briefly with a small smile before focusing back on the road.

I hadn’t slept all night—too excited, yet a little sad knowing my family wouldn’t be there. But Mama and Papa would never let me marry before graduation. I remembered when Dadi once mentioned my marriage to Papa; he immediately refused, saying none of us were to be married before completing our studies and turning twenty-one.

But I needed to marry Momin. I needed to make him mine before leaving to pursue my dream.

Yes, we were immature. He was only 22, and I was 18. Even though Momin was the mature one between us, he always bent before my happiness. I knew he would do anything in love—and I could never risk losing him.

The car came to a stop. I looked at Momin. His eyes stayed on the road, his body tense. I squeezed his hand, making him look at me.

"Momin, please relax. This moment is for us. This moment is going to make us one—forever. We always dreamed of this, and now when our dream is about to come true, when our love is finally going to be named—you’re thinking about the world instead of us. We should live this moment. Without your smile, without your happiness, my happiness is incomplete," I said softly, lowering my gaze as tears welled up.

He sighed, then gently lifted my chin, making me look at him.

"I’m sorry, Dua. You’re right. This is our moment. We should live it with happiness and smiles. After all, we always dreamed of getting married. And now you’re finally going to be mine in every way. I should be happy—and trust me, baby, I am. I was just… a little tense, thinking about everyone’s reaction when they find out."

"We’re not going to tell anyone until I complete my graduation and come back," I declared.

He nodded. "Yeah. So, we don’t need to spoil this moment worrying about what will happen after four years."

We both chuckled before stepping out of the car.

Hand in hand, with hearts racing, we walked inside the building. The elevator carried us up to the eighth floor.

We stood in front of the apartment door, exchanging a heartfelt smile before Momin rang the bell. The door opened, revealing Saleem—Momin’s childhood friend.

"Welcome, bride and groom," he exclaimed with a wide smile.

I giggled, while Momin chuckled.

Inside, I saw Saleem’s sister, Palwasha, who was also a good friend of mine. She walked toward me.

"Let’s get you ready," she said with a warm smile.

"Ready? I’m already ready," I frowned.

"No, we’re going to make you a real bride," she exclaimed.

I blinked in confusion. I thought we were just doing a simple nikah. What was she talking about? I glanced at Momin, who smiled at me reassuringly.

"Go. I want my bride to be ready perfectly…" he leaned closer, whispering into my ear, "...for me."

A blush crept onto my cheeks.

"But…"

"Everything is ready," Momin said, gently nudging me toward Palwasha. "Now go. Molwi Sahab will be here soon."

Smiling excitedly, I nodded and walked away with Palwasha.

********

I was staring at the girl standing in front of the mirror, looking breathtaking in her wedding gown.

When I made this decision, I had already accepted that I couldn’t fulfill my dream of being a beautiful bride on my nikah day. But Momin… he fulfilled my dream as well.

Tears filled my eyes, not from joy alone, but from the ache of knowing my Mama, Papa, Dadu, Dadi, Rafay, and even my little sister Maham weren’t here. I was angry at Maham, yes—but I couldn’t hate her for loving Momin. It was her heart’s decision. I just wanted her to know that Momin was mine. He loved me. She had to accept that. After our marriage, she would understand that no distance could ever separate us. We were about to tie the sacred bond of nikah. No one could come between us.

"Masha Allah. You’re looking so beautiful, Dua," Palwasha said. I smiled at her.

"I don’t know why you and Momin are doing this sudden nikah when your parents love both of you greatly. We all know they wouldn’t have objected to your marriage. But anyway, I’m happy for both of you," she continued. I simply smiled.

"Now, let’s go. Your groom must be impatient to see his bride," she giggled, and a shy smile crept onto my lips.

I whispered a silent apology in my heart: I’m sorry, Mama and Papa. I love you so much, but I love Momin even more, and I can’t let any possibility make me lose him. I hope you forgive us… I hope so.

I prayed quietly, wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes before walking out of the room.

---

Momin’s POV

I stood there talking to Qazi Sahab about our nikah. He was asking a few questions, and I answered them. A couple of my friends had come to be witnesses, and Palwasha had called a few of her friends too. It felt more like a small, intimate celebration.

"Dua is here," one of Palwasha’s friends announced, and my gaze fell on the girl stepping out of the room.

My breath hitched. My heart skipped a beat. A new sensation ran through my body as I saw my bride—my Dua—looking so stunning. I wanted to do everything in my power to make this day perfect for her, even though I had wanted to see her in a wedding dress, and now I was overwhelmed with happiness that I could arrange it all in just one day.

I walked toward her. She looked up, her cheeks glowing pink.

My Dua is blushing, I thought, holding out my hand for her. She placed her hand in mine. I smiled, gently pulling her closer, whispering, "My Dua is blushing," making her lower her head even more. Today, neither of us was trying to hide the blush, nor were we ignoring it.

We walked toward the sofa and sat beside each other.

"You look handsome," Dua whispered. I smiled—yes, I had also bought wedding clothes for myself.

"Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself," I whispered back, smirking. She pinched my arm hard.

"Ouch!" I hissed.

"What happened?" Saleem asked, concerned. Dua sat there, wearing a serious face as if she hadn’t done anything. I shook my head and leaned toward her.

"Very bad. Teasing your would-be husband is not good, my would-be wife," I whispered, causing her to blush even more. She tried hard to hide her smile, but everyone could see.

"Okay, let’s start," Saleem announced, getting everyone’s attention, including Molvi Sahab. After a few verses, Molvi Sahab asked me:

"Do you, Momin Mohammed Ali, son of Mohammed Ali, accept Dua Rumaan Mirza, daughter of Rumaan Ahmed Mirza, as your lawful wife?"

My heartbeat increased, and a weight pressed on my shoulders. A nagging feeling returned, whispering that maybe this was wrong. I looked at Dua. She was looking at me from the corner of her eyes, holding her breath, waiting for my answer.

Smiling at her, I shook every doubt away and said the words that would bind us forever:

"Qubool hai (I do)."

"Qubool hai (I do)."

"Qubool hai (I do)."

I accepted my Dua as my wife for life. A peace washed over me as I finally exhaled. Now it was done.

"Do you, Dua Rumaan Mirza, daughter of Rumaan Ahmed Mirza, accept Momin Mohammed Ali, son of Mohammed Ali, as your lawful husband?"

Dua held my hand tightly. I squeezed it, reassuring her. No matter how bold she appeared, I knew she had a soft heart, and now she was missing her parents. With moist eyes, she announced:

"Qubool hai (I do)."

"Qubool hai (I do)."

"Qubool hai (I do)."

And just like that, we became one. No one could come between us. No one could separate us—or so I thought…

***********