Author's POV

Two weeks passed, and it was time for everyone to return to their respective countries. The Indian team was set to go back home, while Shazil’s team was preparing to depart—but something happened.

Burhan had to go to India as the company needed its CEO, but his health had deteriorated. Habeeb Siddiqui told Shazil to go instead. He tried to refuse, but seeing Burhan Chachu’s condition, he had no choice but to agree.

Dua’s heart didn’t want to leave, yet she had to, as someone was waiting for her there. She had decided to confront Shazil and prove that he had been lying. She would make him confess.

Dua didn’t know Shazil would also be on the flight, so when he settled in front of her seat, she was shocked. Shazil ignored her, staring out of the window as if she didn’t exist. Dua was on cloud nine seeing him coming to India. Now, she vowed, she would definitely not let him go away.

Asjad was about to sit beside Shazil, but Jiya gently pulled Dua up from beside her.

“Asjad, sit with me,” Jiya said, her innocent eyes sparkling. Asjad, who secretly had a crush on Jiya, agreed and moved in front of Dua. Dua’s eyes widened as she looked at Jiya, who gestured for her to sit beside Shazil.

Dua bit her lip, took a step back, and with a beating heart, sat beside Shazil.

Shazil, lost in his thoughts, felt a jolt run through him as he sensed her presence. He glared at her. Dua smiled politely, but Shazil’s visible dislike caused her smile to fade. His coldness pierced her heart.

She sat silently for half an hour before gathering her courage and resting her head on his shoulder.

Shazil froze. He didn’t know what to do—he wanted to push her away, but his heart betrayed him. Dua had expected him to reject her, but he didn’t. That realization relaxed her, and before she knew it, sleep consumed her. For the first time in years, she felt peace.

After a moment, Shazil raised his hand to push her but stopped when he felt her calm, steady breathing. Looking down at his shoulder, he realized she was asleep. Even after all these years, he couldn't find in him to disturb her peaceful sleep.

Shazil leaned his head back, defeated, closing his eyes. It was a late-night flight, and everyone was tired.

After hours, Dua stirred. She rubbed her eyes and looked beside her. A small smile graced her lips. Her Momin was sleeping peacefully, his hair falling softly across his forehead. Smiling, she brushed it away and stared at his face. She intertwined their fingers and raised his hand to her lips. She couldn’t stop herself from loving him—after years of waiting, she finally had him near. She kissed his knuckles.

Shazil woke with her touch. The familiar warmth stirred him awake. Dua’s lips were still on his hand when he snatched it away, startling her.

He gulped down his anger, looking around, but he couldn’t allow Dua to do whatever she pleased. He grabbed her jaw.

“Do you try to seduce every boss like this, or am I the special one? Ah… now I see—you got this position through your charms, didn’t you?” His sharp, bitter tone broke her heart.

“You are my husband, Momin…” she whispered. Tears threatening to fall.

“I am not your Momin!” he hissed, trying not to humiliate her further. “If you have a shred of shame, don’t come closer to me!” With that, he turned away. Dua stared at his changed demeanor. This Shazil accused her of being characterless—but somewhere, he was right. She had been when Momin was with her. This Shazil didn’t know that Dua had changed.

After that, she remained silent, careful not to upset him further.

The plane landed after a few hours. Dua and Jiya went home by taxi. She didn’t look at Shazil again, knowing they would meet at the office the next day. Right now, she needed to get home as quickly as possible.

***********

Shazil sat in a restaurant, meeting a few clients. It had been three days since his arrival in India. He didn't encounter Dua again he saw her a few times in the office but they both avoided each other.

After his meeting, he enjoyed his lunch, his gaze falling on a little boy crying with a small red hand. He tried to ignore but that little boy's cry didn't let him ignore. Sighing he stood up.

He approached the boy, who looked up, his crying stopping. Shazil stared at him silently. He looked familiar. Shaking his head, he knelt down.

“Hey, little one. What happened?” Shazil asked. The boy just stared at him.

“Daddy?” the boy asked, and Shazil frowned, then smiled softly.

“I’m not your daddy. But I can help you find him,” he said. The boy pouted.

“Oh… but you look like my daddy,” he said, touching Shazil’s cheek innocently.

Shazil couldn’t help smiling.

“Where is your daddy?” he asked.

“He doesn’t live with us,” the boy said sadly.

“Oh… and where’s your mama?”

“She went to the washroom, and this gravy fell on my hand,” the boy said, sobbing again.

“Aww, relax… come with me,” Shazil said, picking him up and taking him to the washbasin. He placed the boy’s hand under running water.

The boy buried his face in Shazil’s neck and cried again. Shazil’s heart clenched. He patted him gently and escorted him to the reception, explaining everything. The staff quickly gave him first aid.

“Is he your son?” the manager asked, noticing Shazil’s care.

“No,” Shazil replied, shaking his head.

“Oh really… but he looks like you,” someone commented. Shazil’s eyes followed the boy, who was pouting and staring at his hands. Frowning, he looked at the mirror in front of him. The boy in his lap resembled him strikingly, and then Shazil realized why he felt he had seen the face before.

“What’s your name?” Shazil asked.

“Umar,” the boy smiled.

“Nice name,” Shazil said, patting his cheeks.

Just then, they heard…

“Umar! Umar!” a woman’s voice yelled.

“My mama!” the boy exclaimed, jumping down and running toward the voice. “Mama!” he shouted, falling into her arms as she hugged him tightly.

Shazil walked toward them, his heart pounding. He recognized that voice instantly. His doubts were confirmed. The boy was hugging Dua, who was now kissing her little boy’s face.

“Meri jaan… I was searching for you. I was scared. Where were you? And what happened to your hands?” she asked, examining his hand while Shazil felt the restaurant ceiling collapse above him.

You look like my daddy…

Is he your son?

He looks like you…

Voices started to echoed in his head.

“Dua!” Dua snapped her head up at the voice. Shazil’s eyes widened. Dua’s eyes mirrored his shock. She stood up, holding her son.

“Ye… ye kon hai?” (Who is he?) Shazil asked, stunned.

“Mera beta,” Dua said, her eyes glistening with tears. (My son)

“Tumhara… matlab… me… mera beta?” He stammered, disbelief evident. Dua smiled, pain etched on her face.

“Nahi,” Shazil was stunned at her answer. “Ye mera aur mere Momin ka beta hai,” she said, kissing the boy’s cheeks. The little boy just stared at both of them. Shazil stumbled back staring at the innocent cute boy in Dua's arms. Dua held her son tightly and walked out of the restaurant without saying another word.

*********

Flashback

Dua was in the living room, absentmindedly changing TV channels. It had been one and a half months since she had returned from the USA, waiting desperately for Momin—but he had disappeared as if he never existed.

A few minutes later, her grandfather sat beside her and started talking. She responded with a heavy head, but when her father entered, she smiled—only to be ignored as he sat beside his own father. With a heavy heart, she stood up and started walking towards her room when suddenly everything blurred, and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Rumaan rushed to his daughter "Dua! Dua what happened?" He asked but she was unconscious. he picked her up and carried her into her room. Hana hurried behind him, her face etched with worry. They quickly called the doctor.

After checking her, the doctor asked,

“Where is her husband?” She glanced around at the family.

Something clicked in Hana’s mind.

“Uh… he is not here right now. What happened to her?” she asked anxiously.

“Then call him here. She needs care and love in this condition.”

“This condition?” Hana’s heart thumped faster.

The doctor smiled. “She is pregnant.”

Hana stumbled back, and Rumaan caught her. Everyone in the room froze in shock. Maham clutched the wall for support.

Moments later, Dua regained consciousness. She blinked at the faces around her, then at the doctor who was writing the prescription.

“Wh… what happened?” she asked weakly.

“Oh, you are awake. Take care of yourself, take your medicine on time, and don’t take tension—it can be harmful for your baby.”

“Baby?” Dua repeated in disbelief, staring at her like she was speaking an unknown language.

“Yes, you are pregnant,” the doctor replied with a smile and walked out.

Dua sat in stunned silence for some time before her hand unconsciously went to her stomach.

My and Momin’s child…

Tears welled in her eyes.

“Tum itna gir gayi Dua. (You stoop this low Dua) I can’t believe this.” Hana’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with shock. Dua snapped her head toward her.

“Being in Momin’s nikah, you slept with someone else?” Her mother’s accusation ripped the ground from beneath her feet.

“Mama, ye… ye…” Dua scrambled down from the bed and rushed to her mother, desperate to clear herself. “It’s Momin’s.”

“Don’t you dare lie, Dua! You cheated on him—and you sank so low in your betrayal that you carry this haram child inside you!” Hana screamed, making Dua stumble back. “You are a black stain on the name of a wife. It’s good Momin left you—otherwise he would have drowned in pain from this truth.”

“No! Why are you doubting me? I am his wife—”

“He stayed in America for only two days, and you both fought in those two days. I don’t believe he would come close to you after your betrayal. Maham told me everything.”

After Hana’s endless pressing, Maham had revealed that Dua and Momin had fought when he discovered she had left the girls’ hostel. The very next day, he saw her kissing Ruhaan. So there could be no moment left for them to be with each other.

Maham stood silently, her eyes cast down. She too was shocked. That night before the “kissing incident,” Momin had been in the living room while they were in their rooms. The next morning, Momin wasn’t even at home. How could Dua be pregnant with his child? And after that day, Momin and Dua hadn’t faced each other again. It didn’t make sense.

“No, Mama, please don’t put fingers on my halal child. This is mine and Momin’s child. Trust me—I never crossed my limits. Trust me!”

“We don’t trust you!” Rumaan roared. Dua flinched. “you broke our trust Dua. You broke our trust”.

“Papa—”

“Don’t call me that! First you forced him into nikah, then you betrayed that poor guy. You dragged my name into shame! Even after I loved and protected you so much, you still proved yourself unworthy of being my daughter. I hate my old self, Dua—and now, I HATE YOU!”

His words pierced her like knives. She closed her eyes in pain. Nothing she said could make them believe her.

“Okay. If you won’t believe me, then there’s nothing more I can say. Think whatever you want.”

“Don’t do drama. You’re going to abort this child. We will not accept this haram child,” Hana said coldly, her voice like ice. Her daughter’s betrayal had hardened her heart. She was thinking practically now—she knew society, she knew Momin, and she knew neither would accept this child. If she wanted a future for her daughter, she had to be strict.

“No! I won’t abort it,” Dua whispered, wrapping her arms protectively around her stomach.

“You have to, if you want to live with us. Choose—this child, or us.” Rumaan’s words were merciless.

Dua stared at her family in disbelief. Maham’s eyes were wide with shock. Her grandparents looked at her with hurt, and Rafay turned his face away, unable to meet her gaze. Her parents glared at her with rage.

“I will always choose my child. This is Momin’s symbol—and I’m leaving this house right now.” saying this she went to the cupboard and took out her suitcase.

She began packing her bags.

“Dua beta, don’t be stubborn. Do as your parents say. They only want what’s best for you. This child will ruin your life. Even if Momin comes back, he will never accept someone else’s child.”

“Bas, Dadu! I don’t want to hear another word against my child. I’m done with all of you.” Her furious eyes swept the room. “I will not explain myself again.”

And then she left the house. No one stopped her. Rafay tried to say something, but she didn’t listen. She went straight to the apartment Momin had built for them. Maybe it was meant to be used like this.

That night, she cried herself to sleep, remembering their night.

That night when Momin had come into her room to tend to her wounded feet…

After treating her, he was about to leave when she held his hand. He turned, meeting her gaze. She sat up and pulled him down beside her. Her heart trembled at the longing in his eyes. He lowered his gaze, trying to hide his emotions—but they knew each other too well.

Dua cupped his face and kissed his forehead. “Dua only loves her Momin.”

Momin squeezed his eyes shut before pulling her into his arms.

“And Momin always loves his Dua.”

He began kissing her face—her eyes, her nose, her lips. Distance had only deepened his love. Dua melted under his touch. He kissed her hand, whispering, “I love you so much,” before trailing kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, laying back on the bed with him above her. She kissed his nose and chin before their lips met hungrily. His hands roamed her body as he removed his shirt, then her kurta. Startled for a moment, Dua soon smiled at his intense love.

“You are mine. Only mine,” he murmured possessively. “Only I have rights over you.” He bit her throat, making Dua moan.

“You were… supposed to wait for… rukhsati,” she whispered between uneven breaths, his passion weakening her.

“No. I can’t wait another second. I’ll take your rukhsati once we return,” he mumbled against her neck, his hands caressing her curves. Every promise they had made to wait broke that night.

“Momin…” she whimpered, tears sliding down as she surrendered to him. The wait was over. He claimed her completely, loving her the way he always longed to. His love showed Dua she could never live without him.

He stayed awake the whole night, staring at her beautiful face. At Fajr time, he

quietly got up, showered, and went to the mosque to thank his Rabb.

The next morning when she woke, he was gone.

She recalled their night and smiled faintly.

“You left me… but you gave me a reason to live.”

★★★★