Author’s POV

He stood there while she was getting ready. In a red-and-gold wedding dress, she looked breathtaking. She turned around, making him gulp as he drank in her glorious face.

Isha smiled before walking toward him. His heart leapt in his chest. He had never seen her this beautiful, never like this before—and knowing she had gotten ready for him, only him, made him feel like he was floating.

His little wife. His secret wife. Isha.

Arshad smiled and held out his hand. She walked closer and stopped in front of him but didn’t take his hand. She smiled at his gesture. "You lost the right to hold my hand," she said before walking past him toward Amar.

Arshad froze, breath stolen from him.

"I love you, Isha. And I’m so glad to finally call you mine," Amar said, making him whip his head toward them. Isha smiled and placed her hand on Amar’s, who held it out for her.

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head as sweat formed on his forehead. Amar stepped closer to Isha, much to Arshad’s displeasure. "Stay away," his voice barely emerged, shaking with desire and frustration. He wanted to scream, to take Isha into his arms, but he couldn’t—as if paralyzed.

Amar kissed the back of her hand, and Arshad’s eyes shot wide.

"No!" he whispered again, staring at the ceiling, terrified for a moment, before sinking onto the bed. Wiping his wet face, he looked around to see Sofia sleeping peacefully.

Arshad stared at her for a while before leaning closer and caressing her cheeks. "I love you, Sofia…" he paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "But I’ve begun to love Isha too." He finally confessed the truth to himself. A tear escaped his eyes. He never wanted this. He never wanted this for Sofia—but perhaps it was destiny.

"I’m sorry… but I think this is our fate." Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he rose and strode toward Isha’s room. She was his. Only his. He could stay away from her, but he couldn’t bear to see her with anyone else. He could burn in the fire of separation, but not in the fire of jealousy. She was his wife, and she would remain so for the rest of his life.

He pushed the door, which didn’t open, heightening his agitation. He banged on it—loud, but not enough to wake the others.

Isha opened the door after a few knocks. Arshad barged in before she could fully open it, pinning her against the closed door.

"Mai bhale hi sirf tumhara nahi hun, par tum sirf meri ho. SIRF. MERI. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik. (I may not be only yours, but you are mine. Only mine. Mrs. Isha Arshad Malik.)" he declared before claiming her lips. The thought of her with Amar had pushed him to the edge. He wanted to scream to the world that she was his wife. Only his.

Isha stood frozen, shock written all over her face. Arshad sucked and bit her lips, making her whimper. He pulled back, cupping her face. "Suna tumne? Tum sirf meri ho. (Did you hear me? You are only mine.)" he asked desperately.

Isha blinked, then smiled, nodding vigorously as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Han… han (Yes… yes)," she sobbed into his chest. "Mai sirf aapki hun aur aapki hi rehna chahti hun hamesha. (I’m only yours and I will always remain yours.)"

He held her tightly, closing his eyes and sighing in relief.

"Aap mujhe apni biwi qubool karte ho? (Are you accepting me as your wife?)" she asked after some time, still holding him tightly.

"Han… Pure dil se, main tumhe apni biwi qubool karta hun. (Yes… wholeheartedly, I accept you as my wife.)" he declared, kissing her head. Relief washed over Isha. She finally had her husband, her love—finally, he accepted her as his wife.

She stepped back slightly to look into his eyes.

"Mai… main bahot pyar… karti hun… Aapse. (I love you so much… with all my heart…)" she confessed, sobbing. He smiled and gently pecked her forehead, saving his full confession for a perfect moment.

"I should go," he said after a few minutes. Isha tightened her grip, shaking her head.

"Isha," he whispered.

"Please," her plea made him sigh. Pulling her gently, he led her to the bed and made her sit. He sat beside her, intertwining their fingers and kissing the back of her hand. Isha watched his every move.

"I will never leave you, Isha. You are my wife, and from now on, I will give you everything you deserve and want," he said, caressing her cheeks. She leaned into his touch.

"Ab aap mujhe chod ke nahi jaoge na? (Now you won’t leave me, will you?)" she asked, frightened. He shook his head with a small smile.

"Kabhi nahi… Kyunki mai tumhare bina nahi jee sakta. (Never… because I can’t live without you.)" His confession made her heart skip a beat. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes lowered. He smiled, squeezing her cheeks. "My cute wifey."

The word "wife" made them both feel different—in the best way.

Isha rested her head on his chest while Arshad caressed her back, resting against the headboard.

His eyes fell on a suitcase. Frowning, he looked down at Isha, lost in her dreamlike state.

"Isha?" he called, making her open her eyes. "What’s that?" he asked, pointing toward the suitcase.

"My suitcase," she murmured, looking away.

"You were planning to leave me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. She bit her lips, lowering her head. He lifted her chin, demanding an answer with his gaze.

"Wo… aapne mujhe… qubool nahi kiya tha… aur raat bhi puri horahi thi to… (You didn’t accept me… and the night was ending, so…)" she stopped, then looked up. "I was afraid. I thought I had to say yes to Amar for Amma Jaan, and I could never marry Amar or anyone else. So I thought it would be better if I left. Moreover, I thought you didn’t care for me the way I wanted," she explained.

Arshad frowned.

"It means… you were never planning to marry Amar?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

This time, Isha looked back at him sharply.

"Aap ne socha bhi kaise ke mai kisi aur se shadi karungi. Aur wo bhi aap ke bhai se? (How could you even think that I would marry someone else, and that too your brother?)" she asked.

"You said you would marry… that’s why I was terrified for the past two days, Isha," he said in a slightly angry tone.

"I was just testing you. Adil Bhai said you would never let me marry someone else and would accept me. He was right," she said, smiling.

"Accha!!! So it was that evil-minded man’s idea. I will kill him," he exclaimed.

"Nahi… No, please. Adil Bhai ne kuch kahi kiya? (He didn’t do anything wrong?)" she quickly defended him.

"Uske is bakwas idea ki wajah se meri do raat ki neend aur do din ka chain gayab ho gaya tha… aur aap keh rahi hai usne kuch nahi kiya!! (Because of his stupid idea, I lost two nights of sleep and two days of peace… and you’re saying he didn’t do anything!!)"

Arshad was planning to kill Adil in his head when Isha spoke.

"He did right giving me that idea," she said. He looked at her with narrowed eyes. "If he hadn’t given me that idea, I wouldn’t have tested you… then you wouldn’t be here. We both would be crying in our rooms." Her eyes filled with emotion.

Arshad sighed, cupped her face with a small smile, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I think I should thank Adil for his great idea then," he said. Isha smiled, nodding. After some time, Arshad went to his room, and they both fell asleep, peace filling their hearts.

---

Isha’s POV

"This is interesting!" I exclaimed as I learned how to use the mobile. Arshad taught me. I glanced at him and found him focused on his own phone. We were parked beside my college, near the sidewalk, as he wanted to teach me. I hadn’t used this phone much, but I kept it because my husband had called me in the past few days to check on me.

"Sunein?" I called. He didn’t look up. "Sunein?" I tried again, getting no response. I poked his arm. "Aap sun kyun nahi rahe hai? (Why aren’t you listening?)"

He finally looked up.

"Aap mujhe bula rahi hai? (Are you calling me?)" he asked. I frowned.

"Koi aur hai kya yaha? (Is anyone else here?)"

"Nahi… par aap kisi ‘sunein’ ko bula rahi thi na? (No… but you were calling some ‘sunein’, weren’t you?)" He looked around.

"I was calling you," I emphasized.

"Oh… but you didn’t say my name. Then how would I know? Call me by my name so I know you’re calling me," he said. I realized what he wanted.

"I can’t call you by your name," I said meekly.

"Why?" He gave me his full attention.

"Because we were taught not to call our husbands by their names," I replied.

"Nonsense!" He muttered loudly.

"Aise to na kahein. (Don’t say that.)" I mumbled, offended.

"Why? It’s nonsense, Isha. No one follows this in the 21st century. You can call me by my name. I want to hear it," he demanded.

"No, I can’t." I looked down. I had never called him by his name; it made me uncomfortable.

"Say my name, Isha," he demanded sternly.

"No."

"Isha," he said, giving me a cold look. I pouted.

"What happened to you all of a sudden? Why are you stuck on this topic?" I whined.

"I wanted to bring this topic up for a few days but never got the chance. Now that I have, I won’t let it go without solving it." He crossed his arms, asserting himself. I whined again.

"I… I can’t," I murmured, fiddling with the mobile in my hand. He stepped closer and gently held my chin.

"Not even for me?" he asked softly this time. I melted.

"I…"

"Arshad! I want to know how it will feel to hear my name from you… Please say it for me," he requested. My heart skipped a beat, and I just wanted to fulfill his wish. I hesitated but tried.

"Ar… Ars… Arsh…" I managed to utter.

"...Shad. Arshad," he gently corrected, trying to teach me. I shook my head, mumbling.

"Arsh," I finally whispered before wrapping my arms around him. "Aap mere Arsh hai. (You are my sky, my roof)," I mumbled against his chest. He stiffened.

"Isha…"

"No, please don’t force me," I interrupted, cutting him off before he could say anything. I parted slightly, smiling shyly, looking down.

"Fine!" he shrugged, straightening himself in the car. "Let’s go home."

I nodded, my heart still fluttering from the closeness and the sweet exchange.

★★★