Arshad's POV

"Okay, I will ask her, and if she says no then no one will force her," Amma Jaan agreed, making me release my breath. After coming out of Isha's room, I went to change, and after that, I again called Amma Jaan and Amar to my room. Sofia was already present there.

I was nervous about how I would tell them to stop all this. But then, making roundabout talks like…

"Isha is an orphan, we can't force her into anything."

"She is not mature enough to get married."

"We should think about her."

"She doesn't have anyone other than us, so she will do as we say. But how will we face our Lord if she is obliged to accept this only because she was indebted to us, not because she truly wanted it? So, we need to ask for her decision softly."

And Amma agreed.

She called Isha to my room and asked her about the decision of marrying Amar. Isha glanced at me nervously, and I nodded at her, encouraging her.

"I... I don't want to mar… marry, Amma Jaan," she stuttered, looking down. I knew she didn’t want to see the disappointment in Amma Jaan's eyes.

"It's okay, beta. If you don't want…"

"Wait, Amma Jaan." Amar spoke. He looked at Isha. "Isha, I know whatever I did till now was wrong. I've hurt you many times… but Isha… I like you. I want to marry you." He stepped toward her, causing me to step in front of him.

"Amar, she gave her answer. Now forget about it," I said firmly.

"Bhai, let me talk to her," Amar insisted and stepped aside to face Isha. "Isha, look, I'm sorry for whatever I did till now. Please think about it," Amar implored. I felt bad for my little brother, but I couldn’t do anything. It was our destiny.

"Isha, Amar is right. No one is forcing you. But try to think about it. You shouldn’t decide about marriage like this. Think about it, beta, and then give your answer whenever you want," Amma Jaan said softly. Isha just nodded before walking out of the room.

Amar angrily stomped his foot before walking out, followed by Amma Jaan. I sighed and sat on the bed.

They still had hope that Isha would say yes. I wanted them to just end this topic, but I think they won’t.

"What a drama that girl is," Sofia muttered. "She should be on cloud nine that someone like Amar Malik—the Malik’s younger son—wants to marry her, but madam is showing tantrums." She waved her hand in the air before lying on the bed beside me.

"She is not like a city girl. Luxury doesn’t matter to her the way it matters to us," I said with a sigh.

"And how do you know her?" she asked, staring at me.

"Just know," I shrugged.

It was true—she was different. She was a village girl, and if someone else were in her place by now, she would have taken everything she wanted from me: luxury and the rights she held in this house. But she was not like them. She was different. She was innocent in all this. I knew that now she was hurting from this life and only wanted a little right from me, nothing more. But I couldn’t give her that. I was bound by my loyalty to Sofia.

Thinking about Isha always made me guilty. I felt like I was being torn apart between Sofia and Isha. My growing feelings toward Isha were dangerous. If Isha had agreed to marry Amar, I would have forgotten her and buried this feeling before it grew, but now…?

"Mai sirf aapki hun. Sirf aapki…" (I am only yours. Only yours…) The way Isha declared those words pulled strongly at my heartstrings. Not only my heart but… uh… never mind.

"Arshad," Sofia shook me. I looked at her. "Where are you lost?" she asked, and sudden guilt hit me. Shaking my head, I lay beside her, wrapping my arms around her. She moved closer and rested her head on my chest.

"Nowadays you’re too busy in the office that you don’t have time for me," she said, pouting. I smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, baby, but the company needs attention, and I can’t put everything on Asam when he’s getting married," I said, caressing her cheek.

"I don’t know, but this weekend you have to take me for dinner," she demanded. I smiled and nodded.

"Okay, I will."

---

Isha's POV

I was happy that Arshad handled everything. Although this matter hadn’t closed yet, for the time being, I was relaxed, and I knew Arshad would again stand for me if needed. But that didn’t mean I could forget his hurtful words. His words pained me to the deepest part of my heart, and I don’t think I’ll forget them easily.

"Isha," as I stepped out of the college, I heard Arshad’s voice. Looking around, I found him standing beside his car. He indicated me to come with his hand, and I obeyed.

"Aap yahan kya kar rahe hain? (What are you doing here?)" I asked.

"Zahir hai, lene aaya hoon tumhe… Chalo betho gaadi mein. (Obviously, I came to pick you up… Now let’s go. Sit in the car.)" he said, opening the door for me.

"I would have come in a taxi," I mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at me. I sighed and sat in the car. He also sat and began to drive.

I was silently staring out of the window. He was silent too. He stopped the car because of a traffic signal. We were quiet for a few minutes, but then suddenly I felt him holding my hand.

"Isha…" Arshad began, but a familiar voice startled both of us. He quickly let go of my hand.

"Arshad!" We looked at Arshad’s side of the window to find Sofia Baaji standing there. "What are you guys doing here?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was passing by her university and saw her coming out of the gate, so I thought to take her home with me," Arshad replied quickly. Sofia Baaji nodded in understanding.

"Okay, I will come with you… Isha, go sit in the back seat," she said and went somewhere. I opened the car and went to sit in the back seat. Sofia Baaji came after a minute and climbed into the passenger seat beside her husband.

"Where were you going?" Arshad asked, starting the car as the signal turned green.

"I was going to the mall, but then I saw you, so I thought to take you with me for payment," she winked at him and wrapped her arms around his. Arshad smiled, shaking his head, muttering, "Clever."

"Please aap mujhe ghar chhod dein pehle (Please drop me home first)," I said in a low tone.

"Oh, Isha, come with us. I will also buy you something," Sofia Baaji said. I tried to protest but couldn’t.

We went to the mall, and Sofia Baaji and Arshad became busy with their shopping while I was trailing behind them like a lost puppy. I didn’t pay attention to what they were buying or not buying; my mind and heart were somewhere else.

"Baaji??" I was standing beside the entrance of one of the shops when I heard a voice I never expected.

With trembling legs, I turned around and came face-to-face with my little sister Najma.

"Naju," a whisper left my mouth in shock.

"Baaji!" she hugged me tightly. "Baaji, I missed you so much," she sobbed, holding me. Even I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

"I missed you… I missed you too, Naju."

I pulled back and cupped her face, kissing her forehead and cheeks. "I missed you so much, Naju," she smiled and wiped my tears. "Bu… but what are you doing here? Are you alone? Naju, don’t tell me you ran away from the village," I began panicking, thinking she had also run away from the village.

"Baaji, Baaji, Baaji… relax," she chuckled and held my shoulder. "I didn’t run away… I came here with Amma to meet someone. I saw you with Arshad Bhaijaan and a woman with both of you. I told Amma I’m going to the washroom and ran after you. I don’t want Amma to know about you," she said, and I smiled at her. Before I could say anything, we heard a voice.

"Isha."

*********

Arshad’s POV

I was with Sofia doing shopping, but my eyes went toward Isha every other second. She didn’t come with us but stood at the entrance. I turned to look at her again and found her hugging a girl. My brows furrowed. Who is this? Isha doesn’t know anyone here, then whom is she hugging?

Isha pulled back, cupped the girl’s face, and kissed her cheeks and forehead, saying something while tears rolled down her cheeks. That’s when I recognized the girl. She was Isha’s sister. Yes, I remembered her—she was the only one fighting for her sister that day.

“Arshad, look at this,” Sofia called me, and I looked at her. She showed me a beautiful pair of earrings. I just smiled forcibly and looked back at them.

“Who is that girl with Isha?” Sofia asked. I abruptly looked at her.

“I... I don’t know,” I said.

“Let’s see,” she said and held my hand, walking toward them. My heart filled with fear. If Isha’s sister recognized me—which she certainly would—and said something, then everything would be revealed. No… But before I could think of anything in my panic, Sofia called her.

“Isha!”

Isha turned around with her sister.

“Who is she?” Sofia asked, looking at her sister. She smiled at us and looked at me. I panicked. Sweat formed on my forehead.

“Ar—”

“Najma!” Isha almost shrieked, holding her hands. Najma looked at her sister, confused.

“She... she is from my village, Sofia baaji, and my closest friend,” Isha said quickly. Najma stared at Isha. Isha blinked at her desperately.

“Najma... She... She is his wife,” Isha added, indicating me and Sofia. Najma’s eyes blinked in realization.

“It’s not the way to introduce anyone. You said she is from your village and your closest friend, but you didn’t tell her who we are to you. What will she think?” Sofia said, narrowing her eyes.

“I know who you are,” Najma said. I looked at Isha, shaking my head in panic.

“Yes, Sofia baaji, she knows that you guys are the ones who sheltered me. And I... I work in their house,” Isha said in a low voice. Najma’s head snapped toward her sister, but Isha lowered her head, still holding Najma’s hand tightly.

“Not enough. We are MALIKS. One of the richest families in this city. And your sister works for us,” Sofia said proudly, unaware that both girls were hurting with her words. Najma glanced at me. Her eyes welled up. She looked at me accusingly, making me feel ashamed. I looked away.

“Wow, baaji... I’m so proud of you. You work for the richest family in the city. You’re so lucky,” she spat the words, making me flinch inwardly.

“Ma’am, look at this new collection,” a shopkeeper called.

“Okay, you guys catch up. I’ll come,” Sofia said and left. I also turned to go, not daring to look into either of the girls’ eyes.

“Arshad bhai jaan,” Najma stopped me. I turned to her.

“Pata hai aapko, mujhe laga baaji ke gaon chhodne ke baad unka naseeb accha hoga. Par mai ghalat thi. Meri baaji ka to naseeb hi zalim hai. Rehem nahi aata use inpe... Baap ke ghar mein naukar banke zulm sehti rahi kaafi nahi tha jo shauhar ke ghar mein bhi ise naukar bana diya. (You know, I thought after leaving the village baaji’s fate would be bright. But I was wrong. My baaji’s fate is cruel. It doesn’t show mercy on her. It wasn’t enough that she was the maid of her father’s house and endured every cruelty, but now her fate made her a maid in her husband’s house as well.)”

She sniffed as tears began falling. I felt hurt hearing this. I knew Isha’s stepmother was cruel, so this wasn’t shocking—but it hurt. Isha had endured so much and was still enduring everything.

Isha held Najma’s hand. “Naju aisa nahi hai... Ye bahut acche log hain. (It’s not like that... they are nice people.)” she tried to defend.

“Kitne bhi acche log kyun na ho baaji. Jo shohar apni biwi ko naukar bana de, to usse zalim shaks is duniya mein koi nahi. (It doesn’t matter if they are nice or not. If a husband makes his wife his maid, then there’s no one more cruel in this world.)” She wiped her tears, staring at me.

Najma took a step toward me, but Isha held her arm, pulling her back.

“Najma!” Isha tugged her arm, looking desperate.

“Utha lijiye jitna faida uthana hai aapne meri baaji ki masoomiyat ka. Par yaad rakhiyega, ye mere toote dil ki bad-dua hai aapko. Ek din aapko meri baaji se beinteha mohabbat hogi aur aap bhi tarpo ge inke liye jis tarah aap meri baaji ko tarpa rahe ho do saalon se. (Take as much advantage as you want of my baaji’s innocence. But remember, this is the curse of my broken heart on you. One day you will love her intensely and you will suffer for her the way you’ve made her suffer for two years.)” she said angrily, causing an unknown fear to take birth in my heart.

“Bas Najma. Bahot ho gaya. Bhool mat kisse baat kar rahi hai tu. Shohar hai mere. Inki beizzati bardasht nahi mujhe. (Enough, Najma. Don’t forget who you are talking to. He is my husband, and I won’t tolerate you insulting him.)” Isha whispered harshly, glaring at her.

“Aur ye jo apko har roz beizzati karte hain? Apko... (And what about the way he insults you every day? You...)”

“Bas kar Najma. Jaa yahan se. (Enough, Najma. Go from here.)” Isha cut her off harshly.

“Baaji, aap...”

“Jaa Najma... Amma must be waiting for you,” Isha said, looking away.

Najma looked at her with hurt and then glared at me.

“Jaa rahi hoon, baaji.” With that, she ran away. Isha stared at the path she had taken. I put my hand on her shoulder, making her look at me.

“Wo... she is a kid. Please don’t take her words seriously. Jab gussa aata hai to bhool jaati hai sab kuch. (When she gets angry, she forgets everything.)” Isha said, defending her sister. I shook my head and tried to pass a small smile.

---

Isha’s POV

“Isha,” my train of thoughts broke as Sofia baaji walked into the kitchen.

“Jee?” I asked, turning toward her. I was washing dishes after everyone had their dinner.

“Arshad said he will come late, so when he comes back, heat up his dinner and serve him. I’m going to sleep.” Saying this, she walked out of the kitchen.

After cleaning the kitchen, I waited for Arshad. I hadn’t eaten anything. Since Arshad came back to Pakistan, I never ate before him. I know it’s old-fashioned thinking of mine, but that’s just how I am. And today, waiting for him gave me a new kind of happiness. I was thanking Allah that He was giving me time to spend with Arshad.

I remembered his words, but I also remembered how he had protected me from Amar many times. He was handling this marriage situation—for now.

My mind drifted to Najma. It had been two days since we met her. I was hurt and angry at her. She disrespected Arshad. I know she’s my sister and that she became angry knowing my truth, but still—I won’t allow anyone to insult Arshad. He is my husband. My pride, my dignity. It doesn’t matter if he accepts me as his wife or not, but I had accepted him with all my heart.

My train of thoughts broke when I heard the sound of a car stopping. I stood up and opened the door.

---

Teaser

He pulled back and stared at my face while his arms were still wrapped around me. My cheeks heated up and my gaze lowered. He held my chin and lifted my face, staring into my eyes.

“Ky... kya dekh rahe hain? (What... what are you staring at?)” I asked, feeling all the butterflies dancing in my stomach with his closeness.

“Tumhari aankhen... Kitni masoom hain... kitni sacchi hain. (Your eyes... they’re so innocent... so honest.)” he muttered in an unfamiliar voice. I had never heard this voice from him before.

He came closer and kissed my eyes one by one, making my breath hitch. I fisted his shirt as my heart began thumping wildly in my chest. Some strange things began happening within me.

★★★★★