Momin’s POV

1 AND A HALF YEARS LATER

I closed my file and sighed, leaning back in my chair. The workload was overwhelming, and being the CEO didn’t make it any easier.

Rumaan uncle entrusted me with most of the responsibilities for this office, as he was busy managing his other branches. The workload was heavy, but I had to ensure everything was built to Dua’s standards. Dua—the beloved daughter of one of the most successful businessmen in this country—deserved nothing less than perfection. I worked diligently, earning the salary Rumaan uncle had set for me, which was substantial. I worked with honesty and loyalty; dishonesty and disloyalty were intolerable to me. For Dua, I wanted everything perfect, everything Halal (legitimate). I wanted to build a future with my Dua—my wife.

Dua… Momin ki Dua.

I heaved a sigh, rubbing my face. It had been one and a half long years since Dua left to pursue her dream. I missed her more than words could express—and I knew she felt the same. Living apart was difficult, but necessary for the peaceful and happy future we envisioned together.

I pulled out my phone and stared at her photo on my wallpaper.

Remaining two and a half years…

I muttered, sighing heavily, then smiled as thoughts of the birthday plan I had made for her crossed my mind.

---

Author’s POV

Ruhan froze for a moment as he saw Dua approaching him with bold, confident steps, wearing the beautiful gown he had gifted her. The dress had a subtle slit just below her knees and half sleeves, fitting her perfectly.

"Stunning!" Only that word escaped him. Dua tried to blush and smile, raising her eyebrows playfully.

"You won… and I’m dead!" he dramatically placed his hand on his chest. Dua laughed at his theatrics.

"Told you… don’t challenge me," she said proudly, flipping her hair back.

"I didn’t lose. My victory was on both sides," he said, smirking and winking. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Now, let’s go to the party," he said, grinning.

"You tricked me!" she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.

"You’re easy to trick," he laughed, running ahead as she chased him.

"You moron!" she shouted, running after him.

"Okay, sorry, sorry," he stopped in front of his car, holding his ear sheepishly. "I just wanted you to come with me, and you weren’t ready to go alone. I had only two passes—one for you and one for me. I couldn’t take your entire girls’ gang. So, I tricked you into wearing this, knowing I could convince you once you got ready."

Dua sighed.

"I don’t feel comfortable going with you alone. You know how everyone in university tags us as the perfect couple. They gossip about us," she said irritably.

*"They can say whatever they want. You and I both know we’re friends. Good friends…" he linked his arm around hers, smirking. "..Close friends."

She frowned and removed her arm.

"We are just friends," she emphasized, stressing the word just.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes, walking toward the driver’s seat. She followed him silently.

Dua spent her time with Ruhan and his spoiled friends. She always felt uneasy around them, but Ruhan acted like a hero, protecting her and making her feel safe. For that reason, she never disrespected his questionable company.

---

Momin’s POV

I waited for Dua to call. We hadn’t spoken properly for days—only a few messages exchanged.

Waiting for your call☹

I sent another message before lying down. Ten minutes later, my phone pinged.

I’m in class right now. I’ll call you in 15 minutes.

I smiled, waiting patiently.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Thirty minutes passed.

Still no call. I decided to call her, thinking she might have forgotten. The phone rang, but there was no answer.

Waiting… I sent another message.

An hour later, my phone pinged again. I got excited.

I’m sorry, Momin. I’m a little busy right now. I’ll call you tomorrow. You should sleep. Take care. Love you.

I felt a pang of sadness. How could I tell her that sleep hardly came to me? My days passed waiting for the night, and the nights waiting for her call. But I didn’t mind. I could wait my entire life for my love—my wife.

---

"Let’s bunk class today," Rehan chirped, trailing behind Dua as she headed to her next class.

"Not today, Rehan. I’ve already missed many classes because of you," she said, entering the classroom while he sulked behind her.

"It’s so boring," he whined, making her giggle.

"It’s history, of course," she replied.

She sat down, but Rehan glared at her. He hated history but despised missing any fun moments with her. He made small jokes and flirted occasionally, which Dua secretly enjoyed.

After class, as everyone was leaving, Dua felt her wrist being gently caught. She raised her eyebrows and turned to see Ruhan smiling, stepping closer.

"Let’s go out. I want to show you something," he said, softly touching her cheek. A cold shiver ran down her spine, but she didn’t step back—she was accustomed to his occasional, careful touches.

"What?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

"Something new and adventurous," he said smugly, winking at her. Dua nodded eagerly, excited to see what he had planned.

**********

Dua’s POV

Dua got ready in her jeans and shirt, looking stunning, and waited for Ruhan at the hostel gate. He arrived on his bike and gestured for her to sit. She climbed on without hesitation, accustomed to riding with him on long adventurous trips.

He drove her to a beautiful hill. Excitement bubbled inside her as they sat together on a stone ledge. Ruhan took out a cigarette and offered her one. Dua shook her head.

"Girl! Trying won’t make you addicted. It’s amazing, just try it," he encouraged.

"You know I’m not a fan of these things. Smoking is a no-go. Besides, my parents would be angry if they found out," she replied firmly.

"Oh, please! Your parents won’t know. You’re not a child to live life the way others want. You have your desires, and only one lifetime. If you spend it doing what others dictate, it will never truly be yours," he said, his voice soft but persuasive. Dua stared at him with her innocent, naive eyes. "And you’ll always regret it in your old age, wishing you had lived the way you wanted. So do whatever you want—no one will ever know. Sometimes lies give a thrill." He gave her his charming smile that could melt anyone; his face held an innocent, caring expression.

"Please… just one. For me. It’s amazing, trust me…"

He continued to coax her, sensing her will was weakening. He wanted to spoil her, to mold her into someone like him. The innocent Dua who had come from India would never let him have what he wanted—at least not so easily.

Finally, as he had anticipated, Dua gave in. Her hand trembled as she took the cigarette and held it to her lips. Memories of her mother and Momin flashed before her eyes—how they always taught her not to do anything wrong or haram. But before she could think further, Ruhan pressed the cigarette into her mouth, and the memories blurred.

She coughed violently, but he was ready, rubbing her back and offering water. Despite the initial struggle, she tried again, and soon, a strange thrill coursed through her. Leaning against his body, she exhaled smoke and giggled.

---

Momin’s POV

Meanwhile, Momin waited for her call. Dua had promised to call him but hadn’t. Night had fallen in India, and he spent the hours awake, longing to hear her voice. It had been three days since their last proper conversation. At first, they had talked three or four times a day, but as Dua got busier, time differences and her new life in the USA made communication sparse.

"I’m sorry, Momin. I couldn’t call you," Dua’s face appeared on the video call, pouting.

"You always say sorry and then do the same thing… forgetting to call me," he scolded gently, making her pout dependently.

"I can’t help it. Life here is hectic. Studying is harder than in India, and exams are stressful. I barely find time to call," she lied—a white lie spoken with confidence, knowing he wouldn’t question her.

"Don’t stress, Dua. You’ll do well," he encouraged, making her smile brightly.

"I will, Insha Allah," she said proudly. Momin chuckled at her determined tone.

"That’s my beautiful wifey," he said with a grin. Dua shivered at the word wife. Yes, she was his wife—but here she was, hiding the truth, spending time with another man. Ruhan had a strange, thrilling place in her life, fulfilling forbidden desires—wearing revealing clothes, going out at night, learning to dance, smoke, and lie. She never stayed alone with him at night and always returned before midnight, yet guilt gnawed at her.

"Momin ki Dua," he said, snapping her back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Where were you lost?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Like her, he hated divided attention.

"Nowhere… I just miss you," she said, longing in her eyes. It was true—she often felt lonely and missed him terribly. But her guilt about hiding her lifestyle from him amplified her desire to be close to him.

"I miss you too, jaan. It’s hard being apart. This loneliness is killing me, Dua."

"Then come here, Momin. I want to spend time with you. I want to hold you, kiss you, hide in your arms. I want to be with you."

The way she expressed her heart’s deepest desires reassured Momin that his Dua was still the same—madly, deeply in love with him. Yet the real reason for this confession was guilt—smoking, yielding to Ruhan’s teasing touches, leaning on him while he wrapped his hand around her and smoked beside her.

"Soon, baby. Soon," Momin said with a smile, causing her to smile too. After months, they talked endlessly, reconnecting in those long conversations.

---

Dua’s POV

I sat on campus, watching people talk and play, exhausted after my exams. My mind wandered—what if Momin came here, as I had requested? I didn’t want him to see my lifestyle. I could hide my partying and outings, especially with Ruhan, in calls and video chats—but in person, he would see the truth in my eyes.

I sighed, rubbing my face. He won’t come… America isn’t next door; he can’t and shouldn’t just come here.

For a moment, I forgot one thing…

He would do anything for me. Coming here wouldn’t be impossible for him.

★★★★