Isha's POV

The air was filled with joy everywhere. Everyone was smiling. Tomorrow would be a big day for the Maliks—the grand engagement of Malik’s second son, Asam Malik. The shine on their faces reflected their happiness. Amma Jaan was delighted at the thought of having a second daughter-in-law. Sofia Baaji was happy too because Sabiya had become a really good friend, and to her, Sabiya was the standard.

Amar had forgotten everything and chose to focus on his brother’s engagement. He seemed happy, and I silently thanked Allah that he hadn’t come to me or done anything to annoy me. I’d heard Amar had asked forgiveness from his elder brother, and they were on good terms now.

Arshad, too, seemed happy. He had been busy at the office, and I hadn’t seen him much over the past few days. I decided to take a cab to college. Lately, I had been travelling by taxi or auto because Arshad had started leaving for work without taking me along, and he no longer came to pick me up.

He had changed. The caring, sweet Arshad I knew had disappeared. He gave me the cold shoulder, didn’t even spare me a glance, and his indifference hurt me deeply. I knew I shouldn’t have spoken to him like that; I had no right to question him. He had been clear from the start, and I was wrong to blame him. My little dreams had all shattered, and I had accepted my fate over those days.

"Isha, take this and go with Sofia and Arshad to Sabiya’s house," Amma Jaan said, handing me a few gift-wrapped bags. I held them, stunned.

"Me?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, Isha, you. We need to send a few important things before the engagement, and Sofia and Arshad can’t carry everything. So you’ll go with them," Amma Jaan said, walking away.

I stood frozen until I heard Sofia Baaji calling my name. I headed out with the bags. When I reached the car, I saw Arshad getting in. Sofia Baaji looked back at me.

"Come on, Isha, we’re getting late!" she yelled before entering the car. I walked over and opened the back seat door, sitting down. Arshad started the engine. I clutched my dupatta nervously. This was probably the first time in all those days that we were in the same space, and he couldn’t run away from me.

"Do you remember our engagement, baby?" I heard Sofia Baaji’s voice after some time.

"Hmm," Arshad replied. I was looking out of the window, but their conversation drew my gaze.

"You know, Isha, my engagement was the best in town at that time. Arshad proposed to me again at the engagement, getting on his knees, and wore an engagement ring on my finger. All the girls present almost died of jealousy," she laughed, her eyes sparkling. I smiled faintly, glad to see her happiness. "And what else could they do? Other than feel jealous? Because Arshad is mine," she exclaimed, holding his hand.

He glanced at me, intertwined their fingers, and kissed the back of her hand. "Yes, baby, I’m only yours."

I cringed at the determination in his voice. He was indirectly throwing it in my face, making my chest ache. I looked back out the window, trying to ignore the pain.

Yes, he was hers. But did he need to rub it in? It hurt—seeing my husband give all his love to someone else. Even if she was his first wife, it still hurt. I had been ready to accept even a little love from him. Whatever he could spare, I would have taken it. But this? No. This hurt.

A tear escaped, and I quickly wiped it away.

---

We returned home, and I no longer felt glad after that torturous drive.

At Sabiya’s house, everyone greeted Sofia Baaji and Arshad with immense love and respect. I stood away from them, silent. One family member asked about me, and Sofia Baaji replied that I was their maid. Arshad heard it but didn’t correct her, as he usually would, and that hurt me even more.

On the way back, Arshad and Sofia Baaji talked endlessly about their wedding and how much he loved her. He even kissed her cheeks a few times in front of me. I felt immense pain, unable to help it. It was clear he was doing this to show me that I was nothing in his life.

I decided I would forget everything and just go with the flow. I spent the remaining time in my room, empty-stomached, unable to eat.

The next morning, after Fajr, I began preparations, baking a cake that Asam Bhai had specifically requested. I made several dishes, while Raziya Bi handled a few remaining items. I kept working, paying no attention to my own hunger.

Suddenly, my eyesight blurred, and my wrist accidentally touched the hot pan on the stove.

"Aahh!" I shrieked, pressing my lips together as tears fell from the burning pain.

"What happened, Isha?" Raziya Bi asked, concerned. "Oh, Allah, ye kya karliya ladki! (What have you done, girl?)" She grabbed my hand and ran it under cold water at the basin.

"Mai… mai thik hun (I… I’m okay)," I said, trying to hold back my whimpers.

"Kuch thik nahi hai. Jao aur aram karo. Subhe se lagi ho kitchen me. (Nothing is okay. Go rest. You’ve been working in the kitchen since morning)," she said gently. I shook my head.

"Raziya Bi, there’s too much work. We have to finish it, okay?" I said, brushing off her concern.

---

Finally, after hours, I was done. Sighing in relief, I made my way out of the kitchen. Passing the living room, I heard…

"Sofia… you’re doing too much work now. Leave it and rest before the party," Arshad said, sitting beside Sofia Baaji.

"Work? Only work, she was ordering everyone around," a voice added.

I turned, and my eyes widened. There was the only man who knew the secret between Arshad and me—Arshad’s friend.

"Shut up, Adil. Even for that, we need energy, okay? And I was using mine to tire myself," Sofia Baaji said, glaring at Adil, who tried to suppress his laughter.

"Yes, and I don’t want my beautiful wife to get tired," Arshad said, kissing her hand. I looked down at my own hand, now marked with dark red and blue bruises. Tears welled up and fell onto it.

I wish… you were here to care for me like that too.

I looked up and saw Adil staring at me. I quickly averted my gaze and walked away.

---

Author’s POV

Everyone was ready at the Malik house, and guests began arriving. Arshad and Sofia welcomed them, while Amma Jaan greeted everyone. It was a grand engagement party.

Isha had dressed in a beautiful but simple floor-length dress. Her dupatta was slightly heavy, adding elegance to her look. For the first time, she had gotten ready like this, even applying the makeup Raziya Bi gave her. She barely recognized herself in the mirror, smiling as she ran her hands over the fabric. Amma Jaan had given it to her, and she wondered why such an expensive dress had been gifted to her.

Perhaps, she thought, they wanted their servants to look presentable. She loosely draped the dupatta over her head and walked out.

She was slowly heading toward the kitchen when her eyes landed on Arshad, laughing with Sofia and another couple. He looked incredibly handsome in desi attire. Feeling her gaze, Arshad lifted his head and froze—his breath caught in his chest. He couldn’t believe Isha’s beauty could affect him so.

Yes, he had bought that dress for her. He had always liked dresses like this, but his first wife never approved. While shopping with Sofia, his mind had drifted repeatedly to Isha—what would she wear for the engagement party? Did she have anything suitable? He remembered her taking Sofia’s old dresses, and he had decided she deserved better. No one’s used clothing, not even his first wife’s, when he could easily buy new clothes for both of them.

He had bought it in front of Sofia, telling her truthfully it was for Isha, who was also family. Sofia knew his charitable nature and let it go. He had given the dress to Amma Jaan, who was glad to deliver it to Isha.

"Muh band kar warna makkhi gus jaegi (Close your mouth, dude, or a bee will enter)," a voice snapped him back—Adil, smirking only at Arshad.

"I wasn’t staring," Arshad defended himself.

"I didn’t say that," Adil replied, smirking wider, before walking away. Arshad clenched his jaw, wanting to strangle his best friend. They hadn’t met in two years since Adil lived in Islamabad.

Isha moved toward the kitchen as soon as she saw Adil whispering to Arshad. She lowered her gaze but bumped into someone, stepping back instinctively.

It was Amar.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on her. His heart skipped a beat. She was always attractive to him, but today, she seemed… breathtaking.

"Isha," he whispered.

Isha, who had been shy under Arshad’s stare, now felt queasy under Amar’s gaze. She tried to step away, but Amar blocked her path.

"Isha…"

"Amar, please let me go," she said nervously. She didn’t want a scene.

"I’m not doing anything. I just want to say… you look beautiful." She frowned, displeased.

"Oh… okay," she muttered, walking away. Amar’s eyes followed her.

"You know you can’t have her," Adil said, glaring at him.

"What do you mean?" Amar asked, confused.

"Little one, she is out of your league," Adil said.

"You mean I’m out of her league," Amar retorted arrogantly.

"No, she is out of your league," Adil smirked, walking away. Amar frowned, displeased.

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

The engagement party began with great enthusiasm. Everyone was happy, excited for the couple. Sofia and Arshad were dancing romantically with other couples, while Isha served drinks with a few waiters, deliberately ignoring Arshad’s occasional glances. Even he didn’t know why he kept looking at her, but his eyes betrayed him—he couldn’t stop.

Chahe kuch na kehna. Bhale chup tu rehna

Mujhe hai pata… Tere pyar ka

Khamosh chehra… Ankho pe pehra

Khud hai gawa… tere pyar ka.

(Even if you don’t say a word

Even if you remain silent

I know of it, about your love

Silent face, your gaze on my face—

It’s a witness of your love.)

Isha noticed him looking while he danced with Sofia. Immediately, her eyes lowered, as always.

Teri chuki nazar… Teri har ada

Mujhe keh rahi… hai ye dastan

Koi shaqs hai… Jo ke indino

Tere zahen chah gaya

Teri chuki nazar… Teri har ada

Mujhe keh rahi… hai ye dastan.

(Your downcast eyes… Your every graceful movement

Tells me this story.

There is someone who, over these days,

Has captured your heart.

Your downcast eyes… Your every graceful movement

Tells me this story.)

A member of Sabiya’s family approached Isha, asking about the dinner arrangements. She smiled softly as she spoke, a stray strand of hair falling on her forehead—enough to make Arshad’s heart skip a beat. He tried to focus on Sofia, but his traitorous heart kept drifting toward that simple, breathtaking girl.

Oooo… Teri zulf jab bhi bikhar jaati hai

Aey haseen! Tu haseen aur ho jaati hai

Jo kitabo me padte rahe aaj tak

Wo pari hamko tujhme nazar aati hai.

(Whenever your hair gets messy,

Oh beautiful one! You become even more beautiful.

Whatever tales we’ve read in books all this time,

We see that angel inside you.)

He twirled Sofia and stood behind her, continuing the swing, but his eyes couldn’t leave Isha. Beneath her eyelashes, she was aware of his gaze.

Teri hi baho me panaho me rehna mujhe har dam sada

Teri hi yaadon me nigaon me rehna munhe har dam sada

Teri hi baho me panaho me rehna mujhe har dam sada… Har dam sada.

(In your arms, in your embrace,

I want to stay forever.

In only your memories, in your gaze,

I want to stay forever.

In your arms, in your embrace,

I want to stay forever.)

Sofia excused herself, and Arshad tried to avoid a guest who came in front of him. Isha was passing with drinks when he stopped her, taking a drink from her tray, his gaze locked on her.

Chahe kuch na kehna. Bhale chup tu rehna

Mujhe hai pata… Tere pyar ka

Khamosh chehra… Ankho pe pehra

Khud hai gawa… tere pyar ka.

(Even if you don’t say a word

Even if you remain silent

I know of it, about your love

Silent face, your gaze on my face—

It’s a witness of your love.)

Arshad sipped his drink, still staring, but Isha’s eyes remained on the floor.

Teri chuki nazar… Teri har ada

Mujhe keh rahi… hai ye dastan

Koi shaqs hai… Jo ke indino

Tere zahen o dil pe hai chah gaya

Teri chuki nazar… Teri har ada

Mujhe keh rahi hai ye dastan.

(Your downcast eyes… Your every graceful movement

Tells me this story.

There is someone who, over these days,

Has conquered your mind and heart.

Your downcast eyes… Your every graceful movement

Tells me this story.)

He opened his mouth to speak, and Isha waited. But Sofia returned and took him away, their hands brushing as they spoke to guests with smiles on their faces.

If anyone saw her, they might have called her envious—but she wasn’t. She was heartbroken. Even though she was his wife, she stood there like a servant, while his first wife received love and respect from everyone. She didn’t envy Sofia; she wished Arshad could accept her publicly, hold her hand like he did Sofia’s. Many men had two wives in this world—he wasn’t the first—so why couldn’t he accept her?

Isha walked to the kitchen, where everyone was ready for the cake-cutting ceremony after the ring exchange.

"Be careful, okay?" she instructed the waiters carrying the cake. Suddenly, she stopped them. "Wait, wait," she said, grabbing some icing. She wanted to draw a flower between the couple’s names. She didn’t notice at first, but there was a little empty space.

Bending slightly, she focused on making a beautiful rose, a small, barely visible smile gracing her face. She had always found happiness in cooking and decorating cakes. She hadn’t noticed Arshad entering the room.

He froze. Isha was concentrating on the rose, a few hair strands falling from her covered head, making her even more beautiful. He couldn’t blink; he simply stared. Her smile widened as she finished the rose. Unconsciously, a small smile crept onto his lips.

Isha licked her lips, eyes twinkling as she admired the cake. Arshad chuckled at her adorable expression—but fortunately, no one heard. His eyes shifted to the boys standing there, leering at his wife. His face hardened. He placed his hands on both their shoulders. They looked up. His eyes silently told them to leave. They nodded and walked out.

He turned back to Isha. The little girl was still lost in her cake. Unable to resist, he laughed loudly this time, drawing her attention. Her adorable smile vanished, replaced by nervous seriousness. He composed himself and straightened.

"Uh… everyone is waiting for the cake," he said. Isha nodded and looked around for the boys.

"The waiters…" she began.

"I kicked them out," he blurted before she could finish.

"Kyun!? (Why?)" she asked, confused.

"They needed to do something outside," he replied.

"To ab yeh kon le jaega? (Now who will carry this?)" she asked, eyeing the cake.

"Hum (We)," Arshad announced. Isha frowned.

"What are you staring at? Come, let’s go," he said. She hesitated for a moment but had no other option—so she agreed.

They held the cake carefully together. It wasn’t too big or small, just medium-sized. Everyone watched them. For the first time, they looked like a couple—and beautiful together. Isha’s small smile returned, and Arshad grinned. No one noticed their bond, thinking only of Sofia as Arshad’s wife. Only one person knew the truth—Adil. He smiled at his best friend and quietly took out his phone to capture their first picture together.

★★★★