Isha’s POV

"It's delicious, beta," Arshad's mother said.

"Thank you, aunty," I replied with a small smile. I had made soup for her for the first time, and I was happy that she liked it.

"Oh please, beta. Don’t call me aunty. It sounds so distant. You're here as my daughter, and I want you to call me Amma jaan as everyone does," she said softly. I nodded with a smile.

"Ji, Amma jaan (Yes, mother)." She smiled warmly hearing this.

"So tell me something about yourself," she asked, motioning me to sit beside her.

I told her about myself, and we talked for a while before someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Amma jaan said, and Arshad walked in but stopped for a second when he saw me before moving toward Amma jaan. I immediately stood up from my seat.

"I... I will come later, Amma jaan," I said and left the room after she nodded, keeping my gaze lowered.

And just like that, a week passed by. I ignored him, and he did the same. We both behaved as if we didn’t even know each other. Even with strangers, people try to know one another, and I did. I had come to know about all of them—Amma jaan, Asam bhai, and that not-so-nice Amar. Yes, I didn’t like him much because he always tried to be overly frank with me, which I didn’t appreciate. And Sofia baaji—she spoke nicely with me, treated the servants kindly, and thought of me as just another maid. Maybe that’s what I was.

"I will be very sad after you both leave," I heard Amma jaan say as I entered her room after knocking. It was time for her medicine.

Sofia baaji was sitting beside her.

"Amma jaan, you know we live there, and we only come for two months. Arshad and my business is there, so after our vacation we need to go," Sofia baaji said softly.

"But beta, you were supposed to leave next week. What happened now?"

"I don’t know. Arshad just said we need to go," Sofia baaji shrugged.

I stood there quietly, staring at them. I didn’t fully understand their conversation, but I realized Arshad and Sofia baaji were going somewhere. For some reason, that thought made me uneasy.

"Look, Isha is here," Sofia baaji noticed me and said, "Come, Isha. Give Amma jaan her medicine. And Amma jaan, go to sleep after taking your medicine," saying this, she left the room.

After giving Amma jaan her medicine, I sat beside her.

"Aap theek hain, Amma jaan? (Are you okay, mother?)" I asked. She nodded with a sad smile.

"Is Sofia baaji going somewhere?" I asked after gathering some courage. I didn’t take his name because it felt strange for some reason.

"Yes, they are going back to Dubai."

I felt my heartbeat stop at her words. Dubai? My hands tightened together in anxiety.

"Wh...when?" I managed to ask.

"After two days," she replied sadly.

I felt my eyes burn. I blinked several times to hold back my tears. He didn’t tell me. He didn’t think I deserved to know? Why would he think that? I was nothing to him. Nothing.

---

Arshad’s POV

"Everything is done?" Sofia asked as she stepped out of the washroom.

I nodded and busied myself with my laptop again.

"You said we would stay here for a week more, then suddenly why did the plan change?" she asked while applying lotion on her arms.

"Important meeting," was all I said. How could I tell her that I felt uneasy with Isha around? Even though she barely appeared in front of me, I still felt uncomfortable. And the thought that I was betraying Sofia by hiding the truth made me drown in guilt.

It had been a week since she came here. Most of the time, she stayed with Amma jaan. Otherwise, she barely left her room. I knew she felt the same as me, but what could we do? This wasn’t a small matter that I could simply reveal, and all of it left me depressed. That’s why I decided to go back to Dubai.

Amma jaan had grown fond of her, and now I didn’t have to worry about her safety. She was safe in my house.

After the conversation we had on her first day here, we never spoke again. We both avoided each other, as if we feared someone might catch our lie. That’s why we kept our distance as much as possible. But I knew before leaving, I needed to talk to her. She deserved to hear something from me—my words, my assurance—before I left.

"Anyway, I’m happy that we’re going back," Sofia said as she walked to the bed. "Now close that and don’t disturb my sleep." She took her pills, and I shut my laptop before turning to her.

"Good night, baby," I whispered, kissing her lips before getting up.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I need to finish some documents. You sleep," I replied. She hummed and turned off the lights.

I quietly closed the door and went to the living room. I was working for about an hour when I suddenly felt someone’s gaze. Looking up, I saw no one. I shook it off and continued, but again, I felt it—someone watching me.

I shut the laptop and looked around. It was 11 p.m. Everyone should be in their rooms. No one in this house would stare at me secretly. Only one person came to my mind.

"Isha," I called out. I was certain. "Isha, I know you’re here. Come out." My voice was low; I didn’t want anyone else to hear.

And I was right. After a few moments, she stepped out, looking like a scared kitten. Her eyes were fixed on the floor as always—never once lifting them.

"Wo... wo... mai... (I... I was...)" she stuttered.

"Why were you watching me secretly?" I asked. She looked even more terrified. "Don’t be scared, Isha. I’m just asking a simple question. I know you want to say something. Tell me, what’s bothering you?" I asked gently.

"I... I heard..." she trailed off.

"Come here," I gestured to the couch beside me. She lifted her gaze for a brief second before lowering it again. "Come here, Isha," I said firmly this time. We needed to talk, and this was the best chance—without fear of being caught.

She slowly walked over and sat down, nervously fiddling with her dupatta.

"Ab bolo bhi kuch (Now say something)," I urged. I wanted to hear her first.

"Mai... maine suna... aap... aap ja rahe ho? (I... I heard... you’re leaving?)" she asked in a low voice.

"Haan... do din baad (Yes... after two days)," I replied directly. She shifted uneasily, head still bowed.

"Okay," she whispered and was about to get up when I spoke again.

"Mujhe tumse baat karni hai (I need to talk to you)."

She sat back down, waiting.

"Dekho Isha... tum please kisi... (Look, Isha... please don’t...)"

"Main nahi kholungi apna muh. Wada hai mera aapse (I won’t open my mouth. It’s my promise to you)," she said before I could finish. But her trembling voice told me she was deeply hurt.

"Isha... you know, whatever happened wasn’t your fault, nor mine. But I can’t ruin my life, Isha. And neither do I want to hurt you. So it’s better if I leave." I tried to speak as gently as I could. "But I promise, I will help you whenever you need me. This is your house now. Live here happily. And yes, you can even continue your studies."

A frown appeared on her forehead. She still kept her eyes lowered.

"I admitted your name at the school. You don’t need to worry. Just promise me you won’t do anything wrong, like running away, and that you’ll focus on your studies. Remember, Isha—if you make a mistake or leave this house, you’ll hurt me. And you’ll make me a sinner in front of Allah."

"You wait here, I’m coming," I said, heading to my room.

After a few minutes, I returned. She was still sitting there, head lowered. I sat back down and placed an envelope on the table.

"This is for you," I said softly. She looked at it, then at me. "It has some money and my phone number. In case you ever need me."

She lowered her gaze again.

"I... I don’t need money. Amma jaan is here to take care of me. And I’m not going anywhere, so I don’t need money."

"Isha..."

"Please," she finally looked at me with moist eyes. "Please... mujhe paise ki zarurat nahi hai (Please... I don’t need money)." Her voice was low, but she emphasized the word “money.”

I didn’t know how, but I could read her eyes—the words she never spoke.

I don’t need money. I need you.

But my gaze gave her the answer she feared—You can never have me. I looked away, and I knew she understood.

"May Allah bless you with a happy life," she whispered before walking away, leaving the envelope untouched.

---

Isha’s POV

Today, he was leaving. I was sad and broken. I knew I shouldn’t be, but how could I make my heart understand? After our conversation, two days had passed, and I still felt uneasy. He was leaving me here with his brothers and mother.

I knew I could trust Amma jaan, but his brothers... how could I tell him I was afraid of them? How could I tell him I had never interacted with men before, and living here with them would be so hard for me?

No matter what bond tied us, he was my husband. Shouldn’t he think about me at least a little? But he didn’t—because he loved someone else. To him, Sofia baaji was everything.

And I... I was nothing.

A sob escaped my lips. I caressed the photo frame I had found in his drawer—an old picture of his—that had become my secret comfort. I didn’t know why, but I found myself staring at it endlessly.

I carefully placed it back in my drawer and got ready for the day.

When I stepped into the living room, my dupatta covering my forehead, I saw everyone gathered. Two large suitcases stood there.

"I’ll miss you, bhai," Amar said, hugging Arshad.

"I’ll miss you too," Arshad replied, ruffling his hair.

"You should stay for more days," Asam bhai said sadly.

"Take care of yourself, both of you." Amma jaan hugged Arshad and then Sofia baaji.

"You too," Arshad said, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"May Allah protect you from every harm," Amma jaan blessed him with tears in her eyes. She had been emotional ever since their departure was announced.

"Bhabi, I’ll miss you," Amar said, hugging Sofia baaji. She patted his back, and then Asam bhai hugged her, saying the same.

I shifted uncomfortably at their closeness. They always behaved so freely, and Arshad didn’t seem to mind. It didn’t feel right. Maybe I wasn’t anyone to judge, but from where I came, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

"Let’s go, we’re getting late," Sofia baaji said, holding Arshad’s arm. He nodded, placing his arm around her waist, and together they walked out the door.

I stood there, watching silently as they disappeared through the main door. My heart clenched painfully, my eyes filled with tears, my lips trembled.

Maybe because my husband never once looked back at me—he had gone with his wife.

I returned to my room, closed the door, and slid to the floor as tears streamed down my face. He was gone, leaving me behind. I didn’t know if he would ever come back—probably never.

I was married, but in my fate, I was destined to always be alone. I would never truly have my husband. He would never be mine.

A heartbroken sob tore from my lips.

★★★★★