Author's POV

Dua stared out of the window, leaning on the door frame. Jiya had held her for hours to calm her, but Dua was still adamant that she had seen him. Her eyes could not betray her. The eyes that had longed for him for years could never deceive her. Her heart, which had begun to beat faster after so long, could not betray her either.

Jiya came towards her and placed her hands on her shoulders. Dua looked up at her, her eyes filling with tears. Jiya wrapped her arms around her. She knew everything about Dua and her past. Five years ago, Dua had told her everything, and from that time, Jiya had become her soul sister.

“Allah will answer your prayer. I will also pray that he comes back to you.” Dua started crying again in her arms.

“Please pray for me, Jiya. Mai mar jaungi. Ye rog mujhe khatam kar dega. Mera sabar jawab de raha hai. Kehte hain khuda apne bandon ko unki bardasht se zyada nahi azmata… to mujhe kyun azma raha hai? Mujhse ab ye doori bardasht nahi ho rahi.

(I will die. This pain will consume me. My patience is breaking. They say God never tests His servants beyond what they can bear… then why is He testing me? I can no longer endure this distance.)”

She sat on the floor. Jiya held her tightly, her own eyes brimming with tears.

“I want to see him, Jiya. I want his forgiveness. I want him back in my life. I want him, Jiya… please tell Allah. He will listen to you.” It was the first time in years she had lost control of her emotions and cried like this.

“Insha’Allah your tears won’t be wasted. Allah will answer. He will return your husband to you. I will pray.” Both women prayed with the depth of their hearts. One’s prayer was for her sister-like friend who had lost everything in this battle of love. And the other was the woman who had been longing for her husband for years, who had lost herself in this love. And as Allah has promised, if we pray from the depth of our hearts with sincere tears, our prayer will be answered.

And maybe that was the time of qubooliyat—acceptance.

•••••••••••••••••••

“Aliya.” She turned around and saw the man she was waiting for.

“Aagaye tum? (You came?)” she asked in fake anger. “Turkey mein aake to mujhe bhool hi gaye ho tum (Since coming to Turkey, you’ve completely forgotten me),” she said with a sad pout.

“Tum bhoolne do to bhoolun (I’ll only forget you if you let me),” he said with a small smile. “And sorry for being late. But meeting the new delegates was important,” he apologized.

“This is for you.” He handed her the flowers in his hand.

“Happy birthday,” he wished, smiling.

“Finally, you remembered.”

“Of course.” He sat on the bench. They were in front of the lake. “You could have enjoyed your birthday with your friends and family, but still you came with Chachu and Dadu.”

“And you,” she added with a smile.

“Hmm… and why is that?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Because I wanted to visit Turkey.”

“We are here to visit our new branch, not for vacation.” He narrowed his eyes, making her giggle.

“Papa wanted to throw a party for me in the office hall,” Aliya informed him. He nodded.

“Hmm, good. I like this—you can enjoy your big day,” he said. “What year is it again?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes, making him press his lips to hold back a smile.

“You know asking a girl’s age is not good manners,” she said, flipping her hair.

He laughed out loud. “By the way, I know you’re going to be 23,” he teased.

“Haww… (Oh my God) what big information you have,” she mocked him with a fake shocked face. He laughed again.

“You’re impossible, Aliya Siddiqui,” he said.

“Just like you are, Shazil Ali Siddiqui,” she replied, making him smile.

“Come, let’s go. Grandpa must be waiting for us,” Shazil said, making Aliya stand up.

They both walked towards Shazil’s car.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“I don’t want to,” Dua said.

“Dua… it’s a big party and sir said we have to come. The CEO and Chairman will be there. It must be the first time we will meet the real Siddiquis,” Jiya said excitedly.

“Please don’t force me. You go, I’ll stay here.” Dua refused again.

“Dua yaar, it’s an office party. We came here for work, not for vacation. You have to come or else I also won’t go,” Jiya said stubbornly.

“Jiya please…”

“No! You have to come.”

Dua stared at her. She knew Jiya wouldn’t leave her alone here, and she didn’t want Jiya to miss the party she was so excited about. Dua sighed, defeated.

“Okay fine.”

“Yay!” Jiya raised her fist in the air, making Dua smile at her true friend.

Jiya was the friend, every girl needed in her life. Allah had given her a true friend this time, and she was thankful for that.

**********

“Maham… Amad is here.” Hana came into her room. Maham, dressed in a simple brown kurta and pants, was already ready.

“Mama… zaroori hai kya? (Is it necessary?)” she asked, feeling annoyed by all this.

“Beta, he wants to spend some time with you. You two are getting married in three months. You have to be comfortable around him.” Hana lovingly patted her cheeks. Maham lowered her head.

“Okay, I’ll go,” she agreed without saying anything. Hana smiled and walked out.

“Mamu… I’ll take care of your daughter, don’t worry,” Hana heard Amad’s voice, slightly annoyed, and a small laugh escaped her lips.

“Haan haan… I am her father, don’t forget. Just take care of her,” Rumaan said, trying to be stern, but everyone knew how much he adored Amad.

“Yeah… and I am her future husband,” he teased his uncle.

“The future is yet to come. Who knows what will happen before it arrives,” Rumaan smirked, threatening him. Amad looked at him before chuckling nervously.

“Don’t do this, Mamu. I have a very delicate heart. After so many rejections I finally found my happiness,” he said with genuine fear. Rumaan chuckled and patted his shoulder.

“Maham is yours. And this is your Mamu’s word. Don’t stress yourself, young man.”

Maham, who was standing behind Hana, heard all this. Her heart trembled. She couldn’t let her father hurt anymore. She had to accept all this with open heart or else how could she make Amad happy.

She slowly walked down. Amad tilted his head and smiled.

She wore a black scarf around her neck. “You look beautiful,” Amad said, walking towards her.

Rumaan and Hana walked out of the living room. “Don’t get late. I want my daughter back before Maghrib (sunset prayer),” Rumaan shouted before disappearing.

“Your dad is very strict.”

“He is your Mamu (uncle),” Maham corrected, walking toward the front door, with Amad trailing behind.

“But he’s behaving like your father since our rishta (proposal) got finalized,” Amad said with a sad pout while sitting in the car. Maham sat beside him.

“Because HE IS my father. And every father behaves like this with the boy who is supposed to marry their daughter,” Maham replied, to which Amad smiled.

“Hmm… you are right. I will be this strict with our future son-in-law,” Amad said with a serious face, making Maham look at him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye while pretending to be busy driving.

Maham shook her head with a small smile.

“Say Insha’Allah (God willing),” Amad nudged her arm.

“You are so cheesy,” she mumbled, shaking her head with a small smile, making him chuckle. He was happy to see Maham smiling with him.

***********

“You got ready,” Aliya entered the room. Shazil narrowed his eyes at her.

“How many times have I told you not to enter without knocking?” he said, buttoning his shirt. Aliya bit her lips.

“Sorry, but your hands won’t break if you lock the door,” she put the blame back on him after her small sorry. Shazil shook his head.

“You’re impossible.” He wore the blazer and went to the mirror. Brushing his hair, he sprayed cologne.

“I love this smell,” Aliya blurted out. Shazil looked at her again with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t like bold statements,” he said, walking towards her. “And bold girls.” With that, he passed by her.

“You look hot!” Before he could walk out, she shouted, making him sigh and shake his head,

while Aliya laughed, running behind him.

“Wait for me, hero!” she yelled.

Their grandfather, Habeeb Siddiqui, looked at them with a smile.

“Mere bachhe (my children),” he said, engulfing the young man in his old arms. “You look handsome,” he praised.

“I am the birthday girl, Dada Abbu! (grandpa!)” Aliya whined, stomping her feet.

“Jealous people,” Shazil teased, moving away so his grandfather could hug Aliya.

“You are jealous, not me,” she fired back.

“Talk to me with respect. I am 9 years older than you,” Shazil smacked her head.

“Dada Abbu, dekhein! (Grandpa, look at him!)” she whined and hugged her grandfather, who laughed at their banter.

“Shazil, don’t tease my baby,” Mr. Habeeb gave a fake glare to his beloved grandson.

Shazil shook his head and started walking towards the front door.

“Are you going without us?” Both dada-poti (grandfather and granddaughter) ran after him, knowing that if they were even a second late, he would drive away.

••••••••••••••••

They got ready—Dua wore a simple white gown with a navy-blue shrug and a white scarf, while Jiya wore a pale-yellow gown with a muffler around her neck, her hair curled softly.

They all settled in the car and headed to the venue.

"I'm so excited!" Sara, their colleague, exclaimed.

"Yeah, we’ll finally meet our bosses," Asjad, another colleague, added.

"The bosses from here, right?" Jiya asked curiously.

"No, they’re from New York. They came here for the new branch, just like us," Asjad informed them.

They continued their chatter while Dua got a phone call and became busy speaking to someone.

After a few minutes, they reached the venue. It was a large bungalow adorned with fancy lights. Everyone stepped out and started walking inside, except Dua, who stood aside finishing her call.

"Dua, come on... everyone went inside!" Jiya called.

"You go, I’ll come," Dua said, moving towards the corner to talk in peace.

Just then, Shazil’s car arrived. Dada Abu and Aliya went inside, while he parked the car. His phone rang, so he walked towards the corner—his back facing Dua from afar.

Dua, still on the phone, suddenly froze. Her eyes widened as she screamed—the dangerous dog standing nearby glared at her. She stumbled backward before turning to run. Her gown tangled in her steps, and she fell flat on the ground.

Shazil spun around at the sound and saw a woman collapsed near his feet.

"Where the hell are the guards?!" he shouted, spotting the dog advancing toward her. Just then, a guard came rushing.

"Üzgünüm efendim... Ona ben bakacağım." (Sorry sir... I’ll take care of him.) The guard quickly pulled the dog away.

Shazil exhaled and looked down at the woman still frozen in place. "I’m sorry, miss... please get up."

The moment she heard his voice, her entire world stilled. Her heart beat faster. Her eyes welled with tears. She couldn’t gather the courage to look up—afraid it would all be her delusion again.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he asked, bending slightly toward her.

A sob broke from her lips as she slowly lifted her gaze—rooting him to the ground. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her lips curved into a trembling smile. As he leaned down, his knees gave in and he dropped beside her on his knees. Dua eyes widened in disbelief.

"Mo...Mom....Momin..." she whispered, touching his face with trembling hands.

His eyes fluttered shut. Her fingers traced his nose, his beard-lined cheeks. He had changed—his face hardened, his jaw sharper, the heavy beard altering his familiar features.

He remained frozen as she wrapped her arms around him, weeping bitterly.

"Momin! Momin! Allah answered my prayers! Allah... my Momin!" Her heart-wrenching cries pierced the air.

But before her was not Momin. It was Shazil Siddiqui.

He firmly gripped her arms and pulled her away. "Shazil Siddiqui," he corrected coldly, his tone sending a shiver down her spine. This harshness... she had never heard such a tone from Momin.

"Momin..." she whispered again.

"Shazil!" he roared, making her flinch back. Standing up, he turned and strode inside.

"Momin!" Dua screamed, but he didn’t stop.

Jiya, who was just stepping out to look for Dua after nearly twenty minutes, saw Shazil walk past with a hardened expression. She frowned—something about him felt familiar.

Then she heard it—Dua’s desperate cry. "Momin!"

Her eyes widened as she rushed toward the voice, only to find Dua on the ground, trembling and crying.

"Dua, what happened?!" Jiya asked, alarmed.

"Jiya... Momin. He... he didn’t listen to me. He said he’s Sha... Shazil... No! He is Momin. My Momin—I know!" Dua sobbed, clinging to her.

Jiya embraced her, her heart aching. That man… she remembered now. The familiarity struck—she had seen his picture in Dua’s house before. That’s why his face rang a bell. But why did he deny being Momin? Why Shazil? Questions whirled in her mind, but she focused on her sister-like friend.

"Dua, get up. I saw him going inside. We’ll talk to him there, come," Jiya encouraged, holding her hand.

Dua nodded weakly, a flicker of determination in her eyes. Jiya handed her tissues from her bag to clean her face before they walked in.

Meanwhile, Shazil went straight to his grandfather, his chest heaving abnormally, desperate to bury the storm inside him.

"Dada Abu," Shazil called.

"Oh, my son, you’re here! Come, I’ll introduce you to the Indian team—they’re doing excellent work there," his grandfather said happily.

"Before that, you need to listen to me." Shazil’s firm tone made the old man pause.

"What is it, Shazil?" he asked.

Shazil stared at him for a moment before declaring, "You want me to marry Aliya. I’m ready—but you must announce our engagement right now, in front of everyone."

The words filled Habeeb with joy. "Oh Allah, shukr!" (Oh Allah, thank You!) "Finally, sense has entered this man!" He embraced Shazil tightly.

Shazil hugged back but his eyes flicked toward the door—where Dua was just stepping inside, her gaze locked on him.

Habeeb led Shazil to Aliya and her father, Burhan Siddiqui. After a short exchange, Aliya’s face lit up with joy.

Dua, meanwhile, stood frozen, unable to blink—as though if she did, he would vanish again.

"So, ladies and gentlemen!" Mr. Habeeb addressed the gathering. "This party is for launching our new branch in Turkey—and to celebrate my beloved granddaughter’s birthday." He wrapped an arm around Aliya and another around Shazil, beaming proudly.

"But let’s add one more happiness to this evening," he declared, his grin widening. "My grandson Shazil and my granddaughter Aliya are getting engaged tonight!"

The announcement yanked the ground from beneath Dua’s feet. Her eyes widened, her entire body shook. Shazil’s gaze swept the crowd, finding her. Her moist eyes, her disbelief—it pierced him, but he quickly looked away.

"Dua, calm down... you’re shaking," Jiya whispered, holding her icy hands tightly. Dua’s face had turned pale, her breath short.

"I can’t... I can’t breathe," Dua whispered, trembling. She couldn't believe it just now she got him back and he was declared someone else? Jiya rubbed her back, quickly leading her aside and handing her water.

Dua’s hands shook as she lifted the glass.

"Dua... I think we should go," Jiya said softly, her heart breaking for her friend who had waited years for her husband—only to watch him now belong to someone else.

"No! I need to talk to him," Dua shook her head stubbornly.

Jiya’s eyes drifted to where Shazil stood, surrounded by colleagues and family. When he spotted them at a distance, Sahil gestured for them to come closer.

"Dua, come," Jiya urged, leading her forward.

There stood Shazil, his grandfather, and Burhan Siddiqui with Aliya, who clung proudly to his arm. They looked every bit a perfect couple.

Dua stood with her head lowered, the sight shredding her heart into pieces.

"This is Jiya, one of our best employees..." Sahil began, introducing her. Dua kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

"And who is this beautiful woman?" Mr. Habeeb asked.

Dua looked up, feeling the weight of his gaze. But her eyes, against her will, sought only Shazil’s face. He turned away the moment her gaze met his.

"She’s Dua Momin Ali, our Executive Director. A remarkable woman—beauty with brains!" Sahil praised proudly.

Habeeb’s brows knitted as he studied the girl, then turned toward Shazil. His grandson’s jaw was clenched, eyes burning with daggers in Dua’s direction. She, meanwhile, stood with moist eyes fixed on him.

Without a word, Shazil tore Aliya’s hand from his arm and walked away abruptly.

Habeeb looked back at Dua, who quickly lowered her head again, trying to compose herself.

The conversation continued, with Burhan asking questions and Dua answering with difficulty, forcing herself to maintain her grace. She couldn’t afford to lose this job, not now.

★★★★