Isha's POV

After coming back from college, I began preparing lunch. I had only an hour to get everything ready. I was grateful that Raziya bi was here to help me; otherwise, Amar would have made a fuss. Once I was done, I took a deep breath and went to my room after telling Raziya bi to serve them.

I lay on the bed after taking a shower to relax and picked up my husband's picture in my hand, like always.

A smile came to my lips as I recalled this morning’s incident—how he comforted me, wiped my tears, held my hand, and took me to the car.

"What are you doing to me?" I whispered, tracing my fingers over his picture. "Yesterday, I decided I would try to stay away from you, but today you took two steps closer, breaking my resolve." Flipping onto my stomach, I laid his photo frame on the mattress. "And the truth is, whatever is happening between us, I’m enjoying it. Even though I know you will never accept me and will leave soon, what if something stronger happens between us, and you remember this time—that you have another wife in your mother’s place wherever you go—and come back to meet me now and then? Like this, I would also have you, and you wouldn’t lose Sofia baaji either."

I knew it was foolish to plan this, knowing my husband. For him, being with me would be a betrayal to Sofia baaji. I should stop thinking like this, but what harm is there in fantasizing about a beautiful future? What harm is there if I live happily in the present, just with his presence? I wasn’t doing anything wrong to have feelings for him. No matter what, he was my husband, and I had every right to think whatever pleased me about him.

I grinned at my intentions and moved closer to his picture. I had never done this before; this was the first time. Slowly, I pressed my lips against his… on the photo frame, then quickly pulled back. My cheeks heated, my heartbeat raced, and a shy smile spread across my lips. Even though it was just a photo, I felt electricity surge through me.

"Isha!" The sudden call startled me. I quickly hid the picture in its usual place.

I opened the door to see Raziya bi standing there.

"Isha, Amar is calling you outside with coffee for him and his friends," she said. I made a face; I didn’t want to go to him. Seeing my distasteful expression, Raziya bi continued, "I said I would make it and bring it, but he said he wants your handmade coffee, and you will serve him since you didn’t serve them lunch…"

"It’s okay, Raziya bi. I will make it," I said, reassuringly, and walked toward the kitchen.

After making the coffee, I placed it on the tray and went to the garden. Amar and his friends were talking and laughing about something, but as Amar saw me, he went quiet. I was about to leave after placing the tray on the table when he ordered me to hand the cups directly to them. I huffed but complied. He stared at me the entire time as I served them. Finally, I reached Amar, holding a mug in my hand. He took it, and his finger brushed mine, causing me to let go of the mug instantly.

"What the f***?!" he shouted, making me flinch. The mug fell, and some drops spilled on his shoe.

"You idiot! Can’t you do a simple task properly?!" he continued shouting in front of all his friends. I lowered my head.

"Calm down, Amar. It was a mistake. Why are you shouting at the poor girl?" one of his friends said.

"Yeah… Poor girl! This poor girl knows how to take advantage of kind people! My mother gave her love and support; that’s why she always forgets her place every time!"

I clutched my shirt, lowering my head to hide the tears of humiliation he was causing.

"Amar baba, she didn’t do it intentionally. I will clean it now," Raziya bi stepped forward.

"No, Raziya bi! You didn’t spill the coffee on me; she did, and I know she did it intentionally. So she will clean this mess," he said, turning to me. "And you… come on. Clean my shoe!" Amar ordered. My head snapped toward him. My tears were evident, and I was holding them back with great difficulty.

"What!? What are you staring at!? Come on, do it now!"

"Amar baba…"

"Raziya bi, go from here!" he commanded when she tried to protect me. I knew he was determined to humiliate me and had planned this before calling his friends.

Raziya bi gave me a sympathetic look, her eyes moist. I pressed my lips together and blinked in assurance before she walked away. I faced Amar, who smirked at me, glancing at his friends. The one who tried to defend me gave a pitying look, while the others snickered. Looking around, I wondered how I would clean.

"Take that water jug and use your hands to clean my shoe," he ordered, sitting on the bench arrogantly. I clenched my jaw, shut my eyes tightly, and let two tears escape, holding back the rest. I sat on the ground, picked up the jug, poured a small amount of water on his shoe, and scrubbed with my hands. Thoughts raced through my mind:

Is this what I deserve?

Where did I go wrong to deserve this?

I never wished ill on anyone, so why is this happening to me?

This is my house—I’m no maid! That’s what my husband said, right? Then why is Amar treating me like his slave?

I’m his brother’s wife; I don’t deserve this. Then why?

A muffled sob escaped my mouth. I bit my lips to stop myself from crying. Once I finished, I stood up.

"Not bad," Amar said, standing up. "Take this for cleaning." And just when I thought he was done and wouldn’t stoop lower, he proved me wrong. He held my hand and placed some cash in it.

Without saying anything, I turned and walked inside. I pressed my hand to my mouth and began walking faster.

I needed to breathe.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to be alone.

My sobs grew louder. My heart ached. I couldn’t do anything. Arshad was wrong. This was not my house. This was not my family. I was not a maid—I was a slave.

I ran faster, my sobs turning into hiccups. Suddenly, someone appeared in front of me, and I bumped into them.

"Woah! Girl, slow down!" I looked up to see Arshad. His face was frowning. "Why are you crying?" he asked, staring at me with sudden concern. But I knew his concern wouldn’t earn me respect, nor would he stand for me. To him, I was nothing. I tried to walk past, but he held my hand and noticed the cash. His jaw clenched. "What happened, Isha?" I shook my head, biting my lips.

"No… nothing." I released my hand with difficulty and ran toward my room.

But he chased after me.

*************

Author's POV

Isha closed the door and sat on the floor. Her innocent heart ached from the humiliation. No human being should treat another like that. Amar had humiliated her. She had never felt such hurt before—maybe because she had always thought she was only a maid to them—but after a few beautiful moments and comforting words from Arshad, she had begun to believe she was no maid. She was his wife, and this was her home. Yet Amar had brutally burst her bubble, dragging her back into reality. Arshad would never acknowledge her in front of the world, and she would always be treated like this. That thought made her cry even more.

"Isha, open the door! Tell me what happened!" Arshad had been decent enough to come after her, asking about her tears. But she didn’t want to face him right now.

"Isha…" he called again.

"Plea…please aap jaein. Meri bas thodi tabyat kha…kharab hai aur kuch nahi… Ma…mai theek hun (please go. I'm alright. I'm just not feeling well, nothing to worry about)," she said, trying to control her sobs.

He sighed and stood there for a few moments before finally walking away.

Isha heard his footsteps fading and wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face into them.

He just left. He didn’t even ask further. Why would he? He didn’t care about her. No one cared about her. No one. The loneliness was suffocating, and the ignorance from her husband only deepened her pain.

---

The whole day, Isha hadn’t left the kitchen. Raziya bi had informed them that she wasn’t feeling well, so Amma jaan told everyone to let her rest and not call her out.

They were all having dinner, and Arshad sat staring at his food. Her tears and sobs disturbed him. He wanted to know why she was hurting, but she wasn’t ready to tell him, and he didn’t know how to make her open up. Isha was new to him—very new. He didn’t know what to feel or how to feel.

"Arshad, baby, why are you not eating?" Sofia asked, looking at his plate, which was still full.

"I… I’m not hungry. I want to sleep. Good night, everyone," he said, standing up and walking toward his room.

---

The next day, Arshad woke up late, having slept in, and after freshening up, he stepped out around 10 a.m. He saw everyone in the living room. Amar and Asam were arguing, showing Sofia and Amma jaan something on their phones. From their conversation, he realized they were busy making plans for Asam’s engagement.

"It’s my engagement, okay, not yours," Asam said, rolling his eyes.

"Bhai, you should be grateful I’m giving you my precious advice, or else you’d ruin all the fun," Amar scoffed.

They continued bickering. Arshad just smiled and walked toward the kitchen. He was hungry, having skipped dinner the previous night.

"I’m so sorry for what happened, Isha. I should have told Badi bi. She could’ve saved you from that humiliation," he heard Raziya bi say. He paused at the doorway and saw Isha standing in front of her.

"It’s okay, Raziya bi. And please don’t tell Amma jaan. It’s not a big deal. That was not the first time Amar insulted me, nor will it be the last. I couldn’t go to Amma jaan with complaints every time. I’m their servant, and I should understand this," she said, her voice breaking.

Arshad’s eyes widened as he comprehended what she was saying—and what must have happened yesterday. The cash in her hand, the tear-stained cheeks, her avoidance of him—all of it clicked.

Clenching his jaw, he walked in. Both Raziya bi and Isha felt his presence and looked at him.

"What did Amar do yesterday?" he asked Raziya bi directly, knowing Isha wouldn’t speak.

"Nothing…"

"Chup! (Shut up)!" Arshad pointed at her angrily, silencing her as her eyes widened. "Tell me, Raziya bi, what did he do yesterday?" he demanded. She glanced at Isha, who shook her head, but Raziya bi refused to stay silent, knowing Amar could repeat it.

Raziya bi turned to Arshad and narrated everything. Isha turned her back as tears welled up. She was too sensitive, and at nineteen, she had seen nothing but pain since her father’s death.

Suddenly, Isha was yanked toward Arshad, who held her wrist firmly. Shocked, she glanced at him and then at Raziya bi, whose expression mirrored hers. But Arshad was determined; he had to end this once and for all. He began dragging her forward.

"What… what are you doing?" she whispered, struggling to free her wrist, eyes darting around. He didn’t stop as he entered the living room.

As his eyes fell on laughing Amar, he marched toward him, dragging Isha. No one could save Amar from Arshad’s wrath now. He released Isha’s wrist, grabbed Amar’s shoulder, and turned him to face him—then, before Amar could react, he felt a sharp sting across his cheeks.

Isha gasped, hands covering her mouth.

"Arshad!" Sofia and Amma jaan exclaimed, shocked.

"Bh…bhai," Amar stammered, stunned and hurt. Arshad had never raised his hand against them before.

"What do you think of yourself?! How could you treat someone like this?!" Arshad yelled, gripping Amar’s collar. He couldn’t control his fury. The thought of Isha cleaning Amar’s shoes with her hands and being humiliated in front of his friends burned him to the core. He slapped him again, and Amma jaan rushed forward, standing in front of Amar, while Sofia stepped up, pushing Arshad away.

"Arshad, what are you doing!?" Amma jaan yelled. She had never seen him this angry before.

"What am I doing!? Ask him, Amma jaan—what did he do yesterday?" Arshad yelled, turning to Isha, who looked like she might faint. This was beyond what she had expected or wanted. "He humiliated Isha in front of his friends! He made her clean his shoes! We don’t even treat our servants like he treats Isha—like his personal slave!" He raised his hand again, but Sofia stood in front of him.

"Arshad, calm down. Just calm down, okay?" Sofia rubbed his chest to soothe him, then turned to Amar. "Amar, how could you do this? She’s our servant, but that…"

"She is not!" Arshad cut her off. Sofia, Amma jaan, Asam, and everyone looked at him in confusion. Isha silently prayed he wouldn’t say anything he might regret.

"She is not our servant. Amma jaan brought her here just to take care of the household, not for maid duties. Amma jaan, you said Isha was like your daughter—then how could you let him behave like that with her?" Arshad asked, disappointed.

"Bhai, Amma jaan, I… We tried many times to make him understand, but we don’t know what grudge he holds against her," Asam said, defending his mother. They had tried repeatedly, but Amar wouldn’t budge, and Asam somehow thought Arshad’s slaps might make him realize his mistake.

"I don’t know what your problem with her is, but from now on, you will stay away from her," Arshad said, turning to Isha. "And you will not take any orders from him, nor do any work he asks. Do I make myself clear to both of you?"

Isha nodded her head, and Arshad stared at Amar, who clenched his jaw before nodding and storming out of the house.

★★★★