"Khudaya, tera shukar hai mera baccha thik hai. (Thank God my son is fine)" his Amma jaan exclaimed, relief and fear mixing in her voice, after listening to Arshad’s side. He was sitting on his bed, with an angry Sofia and a worried Mrs Malik beside him. Isha stood quietly in the far corner, her gaze fixed on him.

"Amma jaan, go and take some rest. You don’t look fine," he said gently. She protested, but after his insistence, she agreed and went to her room. His brothers also bid their goodbyes and left.

His eyes moved to the figure still standing there, her expression filled with concern. She wanted to be near him, to take care of him, but they both knew it couldn’t happen—at least not now.

"What are you still doing here?!" Sofia suddenly snapped in a harsh tone, making Isha startle. She tore her gaze from Arshad and looked at Sofia, who glared at her coldly.

Isha frowned, confused at the sudden hostility.

"Leave, Isha!!" Sofia shouted when Isha didn’t respond immediately. Isha nodded and hurriedly walked out of the room, misty-eyed, without looking at Arshad.

"What kind of behavior is this, Sofia!? Why did you talk to her like that?" Arshad asked, anger rising. Sofia shot him a glare, but it didn’t affect him—his fury was focused on her words.

"Because of her, you put your life in danger. For a mere servant!!" she shouted, standing up from the bed.

"She is not a servant!" he yelled back, rage simmering as he saw Sofia belittle Isha. "And even if she were, I would still have saved her. Every person’s life is precious—doesn’t matter if it’s you, me, Isha, or any other servant."

"No, it’s not. If something had happened to you, then what would have happened to me, your family, and Amma jaan? You have a family. But Isha… she doesn’t. She’s an orphan. No one will cry for her. It won’t matter if she dies…"

"Sofia!!" Arshad’s voice left him in a roar of anger. The thought of anything happening to Isha had terrified him—the mere idea made his heart skip and his stomach twist into knots.

Sofia glared at him and went to the washroom. He stared after her, stunned by her insensitivity. How could she think like that?

She’s scared for you, Arshad. Maybe that’s why she spoke like this, his subconscious whispered. He agreed reluctantly.

Sofia returned after some time, changing her clothes. She gulped down her pills and lay on the bed without sparing him a glance. He slowly lay beside her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Baby, I know you’re worried—that’s why you said what you did. But my love, that was very insensitive," he said, caressing her shoulder, trying to soothe her anger. She turned to look at him.

"I’m not a heartless bitch, Arshad. I’m your wife, and I will always think about you first… before some orphan girl. For whom you risked your life," she said, her tone filled with disappointment. Arshad sighed and decided not to argue.

"Let’s forget about that. Now look, I’m right here in front of you, fit and fine," he said in a cheerful tone. "Come here," he added, stretching his arms. She scooted closer, offering a small smile. He kissed her forehead, and soon enough, they both fell asleep.

---

"Amma jaan, say something to this idiot," Arshad said, glaring at Asam.

"He is not wrong. We should extend his marriage date," Mrs Malik agreed, supporting her son Asam.

"No, I don’t think so…"

"Bhai, please. I want you fit and fine for my wedding. Look, you got shot in your arms—you can’t even move them properly. How will you enjoy my wedding in four days?" Asam implored, concerned for his elder brother and father figure.

"Asam…" Arshad began, but Asam interrupted, sitting beside him.

"No, Bhai. I don’t want my elder brother, my father figure, just cornering himself on my wedding day. You always fulfilled our demands like a father, so it isn’t a big deal to extend my wedding for you," he said, wrapping his arms around Arshad’s shoulders. Arshad’s heart melted. The family “aww-ed,” and Mrs Malik’s eyes grew watery.

"Okay, fine. Don’t call me your father, Asam. You’re too old to be my son," Arshad chuckled, patting his back. Everyone laughed with them.

After much discussion, they decided to set the wedding date for two weeks later.

---

"Assalamualaikum, bhabi," Isha heard Adil’s voice in the kitchen and was startled. She turned to him, eyes questioning.

"Walaikum Assalam," she replied, realizing she hadn’t spoken yet. "Do you want anything?" she asked politely.

"Yeah… I wanted water," he said. Isha nodded, fetched a cold water bottle, filled a glass, and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said softly, taking the glass. She reciprocated his smile.

"Adil Bhai… please, don’t call me bhabi (sister-in-law). What if someone hears?" she requested.

"Okay," he nodded, drinking the water. "I wanted to say something," he started, placing the glass on the counter. "Arshad told me about your decision," he said. Isha looked away, thinking of their decision—being apart.

"Hmm," she hummed, turning back to the stove.

"So it’s true… you’re giving up on your marriage?" he asked. Isha felt her heart clench at the thought.

"I don’t have any other option," she muttered, stirring the curry.

"Don’t be a fool, bhabi. He’s not in a state to make decisions, and you’re supporting him in this. He’s confused and needs guidance. I tried, but he can’t understand me. Only you can make him understand," Adil implored, remembering the pain etched on his best friend’s face.

"He can’t betray her. He can’t hurt Sofia baaji," Isha replied, mist in her eyes. "He feels guilty when he comes near me…"

"He feels happy and peaceful when he comes near you, and that’s what makes him guilty," Adil corrected with a smile.

"Please, Adil Bhai. Don’t say this. It’s not true. He can’t accept me… that’s the truth," Isha said, hurt lacing her tone.

"He’s already accepted you in his heart. He just needs to accept it with his words," Adil said. Isha didn’t respond, turning her face away. "He loves you," he added. Isha’s head snapped toward him.

"No… wo… wo… Sofia baaji se pyar karte hain (he loves Sofia)," she shook her head, refusing to believe him.

"Karta hai. Par use aapse bhi pyar hogaya. (He does. But he fell for you too)," Adil said. "You both are his wives. He loves both of you. He can’t accept you thinking about Sofia, but he can’t lose you either," he stated.

Isha stared at him, hesitant, a flicker of hope stirring in her heart.

"You still can’t believe me?" Adil asked. "Okay, then tell me… would you put your life in danger for Amar?"

Isha made a face.

"Why would I put my life in danger for Amar?"

"Would you put your life in danger for Arshad?"

"Unke liye to sau maut mar jaun. (I could die a hundred times for him)," she replied instantly.

"Kyun? (Why?)"

"Kyunki mai unse pyaar karti hun aur wo mere shohar hai. (Because I love him, and he is my husband)," she said firmly.

"Aur aap uski biwi aur pyar ho. Isliye usne aapni jaan khatre me daali. (And you are his wife and love—that’s why he risked his life for you)," he proclaimed, making her eyebrows rise in realization. Arshad loves her—that’s why he risked his life to save her.

"I… I don’t know what to do," she whispered, holding her forehead.

"Do as I say and trust me—he will accept you with words this time," Adil said, smirking. Isha stared at him for a moment before nodding.

*****

As usual, Sofia was at her parents’ home today, while Arshad stayed in his room. After helping him take a shower, Asam left, handing over his clothes when Arshad insisted he would manage by himself.

Arshad tried to wear his shirt, but the pain from his injured arms made each movement agonizing. After several attempts, he gave up and sat there, waiting for someone to come and help.

Isha knocked gently before entering, carrying the washed clothes of both Arshad and Sofia. She froze as she saw him—shirtless, sitting on the couch, staring directly at her. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she lowered her gaze. Placing the clothes on the bed, she turned to leave but stopped when her eyes caught the shirt in his hand. She looked up into his eyes.

"Mai help karu? (Should I help you?)" she asked hesitantly. It had been a few days since they last spoke, always surrounded by family members, leaving little chance for private conversation.

"No, it’s okay," he refused. But Isha ignored him and approached, picking up the shirt. He remained silent. Gently, she held his fine arms, sliding the shirt onto them. Then, carefully and softly, she guided his injured arm into the sleeve.

Her eyes stayed lowered as she slowly buttoned his shirt. Arshad’s gaze remained fixed on her—after so many days, he could finally watch her this closely.

"Kyu kaha tha aapne waisa? (Why did you say that?)" she asked suddenly. His eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Kya? (What?)" he asked, unsure. Isha looked up, locking eyes with him.

"Ke aapki jaan basti hai mujh me? (That your life lays in me)" she said, causing his eyes to widen. He looked away.

"Uh… I…" He couldn’t find words. As usual, he was confused by why he had spoken those words. He knew he had feelings for Isha, but he hadn’t realized how deep they had become.

"Mohabbat ho gayi hai aapko mujhse (You’ve fallen in love with me)," Isha stated firmly. Her head snapped toward him, a small, confident smile on her face. She had finished buttoning his shirt.

"Ais… aisa kuch nahi hai! (Nothing like that!)" he blurted, standing and turning his back toward her. Isha crossed her arms over her chest, unflinching.

Since that incident, they hadn’t spoken, but Isha had noticed him searching for her, staring at her whenever she came into view. She had tried to avoid him, remembering their decision to keep distance, but seeing his restless eyes convinced her: he had fallen in love with her. Not accepting his feelings only caused both of them pain. After speaking with Adil the day before, she realized she shouldn’t give up. She needed to make him understand, and if he couldn’t, she would follow Adil’s advice. She needed to finalize her fate. No more back and forth.

"Asa hi hai. Aap pyaar karte hai mujh se. Maan lijiye (It is like this. You love me—accept it)," she said, her voice confident for the first time.

"Mai Sofia se mohabbat karta hun, tumse nahi! (I love Sofia, not you!)" He turned to face her, denying it. The thought of accepting his feelings made things even more complicated than they already were.

Isha felt hurt but didn’t show it. She had accepted his love for Sofia, but she needed him to acknowledge his love for her as well.

"You do. But you love me too," she asserted.

"Isha, please… don’t say those words. I don’t love you. I feel for you, but love… no… I… I don’t love you," he said, shaking his head, as if trying to convince himself more than her.

"Asan hai aapke liye mujhe khud se alag karna? (Is it easy for you to push me away from you?)" she asked, hurt evident in her voice.

"Hum kabhi ek the hi nahi. (We were never one)," he replied, looking away. She sighed, closing her eyes, gathering herself for the next words.

"Thik hai. If you don’t think of me as yours, then what is there for me to be in this nikah?" she asked, making his head snap toward her, fear gripping his veins.

"What… what do you mean?" he asked, stuttering.

"You were right. I should think about my happiness. One can’t be in a relationship where the other doesn’t even want it. I’m tired, and I’ve made a decision," Isha declared, her face serious, showing the depth of her determination.

Arshad’s face went pale. All the color drained from him. His heart pounded violently, every nerve in his body screaming.

She wants her happiness.

She can’t stay in this relationship.

She is tired.

She has made a decision.

What decision?

"What decision?" he asked aloud, his voice trembling with dread.

Isha took a deep breath, and the words she spoke next struck him like a lightning bolt, ripping the ground from under his feet:

"I’m going to say yes to Amar’s proposal. You give me divorce, then I will marry him."

★★★★★