Isha's POV

I sat on the soft sofa, my eyes wide, wandering here and there. This house—or should I say, mansion—was breathtaking. Everything looked so beautiful, yet I felt so out of place. My chest tightened with anxiety.

I had tried to deny that woman earlier, telling her she didn’t need to do this for me. But she practically forced me, insisting she couldn’t abandon me like this, saying if something happened to me, Allah would never forgive her. When I thought about it, I agreed. I had already seen how this world treats a lonely girl. If she hadn’t been there, I would’ve ended up in jail. I shuddered at the thought.

She told me she needed someone to take care of her. And in the end, I agreed. Still, I couldn’t shake off the fear I felt the moment I saw her wealth. Her mansion alone screamed richness.

“What the hell!” A loud voice startled me. Jumping to my feet, I turned to the door—only for my heartbeat to skip and my breath to hitch. My eyes widened in shock.

It was Arshad.

He nearly ran inside, his face full of panic. “What are you doing—” Before he could continue, I whisper-yelled,

“Aap… aap yahan kya kar rahe hain? Aap mera peecha kyun kar rahe hain? Please jaaiye yahan se, isse pehle koi aapko dekh le! (What are you doing here? Why are you stalking me? Please go away from here before anyone sees you!)”

His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open. Panic gripped me. If that aunty threw me out of this house after finding out I was married—but my husband refused to accept me—where would I go?

“Isha, you—” he began, but a voice cut him off.

“Arshad.”

I turned around to see Aunty walking toward us. My heart panicked, and not just mine—Arshad’s too.

“Amma jaan, she—”

“She is Isha,” Aunty interrupted him, as if he didn’t already know. Wait… how did she know his name? And why did he call her Amma jaan?

“Isha beta, he is my son,” Aunty said.

My already wide eyes grew even wider. My stomach churned.

Unintentionally, I had walked straight into Arshad’s house!

Ya Khudaya! My heart began trembling, and sweat formed on my forehead and palms.

“You brought her here?” Arshad asked. Aunty only nodded with a smile.

“Where were you, Arshad?” Another voice interrupted. A very pretty woman walked into the living room. She was stunning—dressed in jeans and a top, with a scarf draped elegantly around her neck. Her makeup was perfect—not too much, not too little. She was perfect.

“Who is she?” she asked, her gaze falling on me.

“She is Isha. And Isha, this is Sofia—Arshad’s wife.”

The words pierced like a knife. A sharp sting filled my chest. Ya Khudaya! I was standing in front of my husband’s first wife. No, I couldn’t be here. I couldn’t even look her in the eye.

“I wanted to give you your wedding gift, so I went to—” Aunty began, then narrated everything that had happened, including how I ran away from my village.

“Jubail was going to arrest this innocent girl. She didn’t even know how to defend herself. Allah ka shukar hai, I reached there in time and stopped them from doing anything wrong,” she finished.

I dared to lift my head and saw Arshad glaring at me. My eyes instantly dropped to the floor.

“Oh, okay. But why did you bring her here, Amma jaan?” Sofia asked.

“She will be staying here with us. I was already searching for someone to take care of me, and I’m glad I found her. In this arrangement, she gets shelter, and I get someone to care for me. So both of us benefit,” Aunty explained.

“Aun… aunty… I think I should go. I’ll find somewhere else to live, please, you don’t need to worry,” I blurted out in a hurry.

“No, you’re not going anywhere.”

My head snapped up at Arshad’s voice. Both women also turned to him.

“I mean, Amma jaan needs you. And you need our support. She’s right—it will benefit both of you. You can’t survive here all alone. This city is dangerous for a girl by herself. If Amma jaan hadn’t saved you, you’d probably be in jail by now.”

His words were directed at me, but I kept my eyes glued to the floor.

“See? My son is too smart and soft-hearted,” his mother said proudly, smiling at him.

“Yeah, she can live here with Amma jaan. And she can also help Kubra bi—she has a four-year-old son to care for,” Sofia added. Then she called out, “Kubra bi!”

A middle-aged woman entered.

“She is the new maid. Show her the servant cottage,” Sofia instructed. My gaze remained down.

“She is not a maid, Sofia,” Arshad suddenly said. His tone was firm. “I mean, Amma jaan brought her here to care for her, not to work as a maid. She will stay in the house. There’s no need for her to live at the back.”

“But Arshad, we don’t have a spare room. Only two guest rooms, and guests often visit,” Sofia reasoned.

“She will stay in my room.”

My head snapped toward him, my eyes wide. He noticed my reaction and quickly clarified, “In my old room. No one has stayed there since our marriage because you found it too small for us. She can stay there—it’ll be easier for her to help Amma jaan whenever needed.”

“Yes, beta, you’re right. She can stay there. Kubra, come with me. We’ll open that room, please clean it for Isha,” his Amma jaan said. Kubra smiled, nodding, and they both walked away.

“If everything is done, then can we go to my parents’? They’ve been requesting us to visit,” Sofia asked.

“Okay… when are we going?” Arshad replied.

“Now. I’ll get ready, then we’ll go,” she said, and he nodded before she walked away.

I grabbed my bag and suitcase, turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asked. I didn’t stop, just kept walking.

“Isha, stop.” Suddenly, he was in front of me. “Kahan ja rahi ho tum? (Where are you going?)” he asked, glaring.

“Please mujhe jaane dijiye. Main nahin reh sakti yahan. (Please let me go. I can’t live here.)” I kept my eyes on the floor.

“Haan, theek hai jao. Aur iss baar seedhe jail mein jaakar baith jana. (Okay, fine, go. And this time, go sit directly in jail.)”

I shuddered, looking up at him.

“Aise kya dekh rahi ho? Yehi toh hone wala tha na, tumhari bewaqoofi ki wajah se. Tumhe andaza bhi hai, tumhare saath kya ho sakta tha agar Amma jaan wahan nahi hoti toh? (What are you staring at? This was bound to happen because of your stupidity. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you if Amma jaan wasn’t there?)” He scolded me. My gaze fell again.

“You should have talked to me before taking such a step. The whole day, Adil and I were searching for you. Accept it or not—but you’re my responsibility, Isha.”

I looked up at him slowly.

“I don’t want to burden you,” I said quietly.

“This isn’t your choice, Isha, nor mine. But the truth is, Allah has chosen me to take your responsibility. If something happens to you, I’ll be the one to blame. On Hashr ka din (the Day of Judgment), I will have to answer to Allah.” His eyes reflected sincerity.

“I… I can’t—”

“But you have to. You’re not a burden, Isha. You’re my responsibility. You… you’re in my nikah. I can’t abandon you.”

“But what about your family? Your wife? No, please! I can’t destroy this family. First you saved me, then your Amma jaan. I can’t ruin your family,” I said, shaking my head as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“I’m relieved you think like this. Relieved you’re not going to tell anyone.”

“But what if they find out?”

“Who will tell them? You or me?” he asked.

I stared at him, then lowered my head again.

“You know Allah is with us. Honestly, I was scared too. I didn’t know how I’d take care of you. But see? Allah made it easy. Now you can stay here, safe and sound. And I don’t have to worry about your safety anymore. It was meant to happen—you, in my house.” He sighed. I knew he was stressed, but he was trying to make this manageable for me.

He was right. This was Allah’s plan. If we weren’t meant to be, we wouldn’t be married, and I wouldn’t be in his house.

“So, promise me you won’t run away like that again?” he asked.

“I promise,” I mumbled.

We stood in silence for a few minutes until Sofia came.

“Let’s go,” she said softly, holding Arshad’s arm with a smile. She looked stunning in a kurta and jeans, her hair open, her light makeup suiting her perfectly.

Arshad smiled at her, and I could see the love in his eyes.

“Bye,” Sofia said to me with a soft smile.

“Khuda hafiz,” I replied. Arshad glanced at me briefly before the two of them walked out together.

A heavy feeling sank in my chest. Something bad was coming.

---

Arshad’s POV

“When are you both planning to go back?” Sofia’s mother asked as we sat in the lawn after dinner.

“Soon, Mom. Maybe in a couple of weeks,” Sofia said, looking at me.

“Yeah, we need to go. I have my business there, and I can’t stay for long,” I added.

“I’ll really miss you, Api and Jiju,” Sofia’s younger sister Fariya pouted.

“Oh, please don’t waste time missing us. Focus on your medical studies, because Sofia and I won’t miss you,” I teased.

She huffed, still pouting. At 20, she was studying in medical school.

We chatted for a while before saying our goodbyes and driving home.

“Let’s eat ice cream,” I suggested while driving.

“I’m on dieting, baby. I can’t,” she pouted, making me chuckle.

“One time won’t hurt.”

“You know I don’t compromise. I have a show next month,” she said, and I nodded.

Sofia was independent, a successful designer. Her career was her priority, and I respected that.

We reached home, greeting my mother and two younger brothers—Asam, 22, and Amar, 20.

“Bhai, we were waiting for you,” Asam said, walking toward me.

“And why’s that?” I asked, sitting beside Amma jaan after pecking her head.

“You said you’d give me a new sports car. Where is it?” Amar asked.

“No! First give me permission for a world tour. And your card,” Asam added, grinning.

“Stop, you morons! Always demanding,” Amma jaan scolded, shaking her head. They pouted like little kids, making me laugh.

“This is their age, Amma jaan. Let them enjoy,” I said, defending them. My brothers beamed happily. For them, I was always a father figure—we had lost our father when we were very young.

“Sofia, you should stop them. Arshad is spoiling them.”

“Then let him spoil them, Amma jaan. It’s their right,” Sofia said, giving them a high-five.

“Yeah! That’s our Bhabi!” they cheered. We laughed while Amma jaan glared at us, though a small smile tugged her lips.

“Bhai, bhai! Did you see that little girl Amma jaan brought today?” Amar suddenly asked. My body stiffened at the mention of Isha.

I forced myself to nod.

“Isn’t she cute and beautiful?” he continued, smiling innocently.

“Amar, she’s just a kid,” Sofia said teasingly. Amar grinned back.

Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I stood up and wished them good night before heading toward my room.

★★★★