Everyone was busy with Asam’s wedding, which was to be held in three days. Arshad was tied up with his brother’s wedding preparations, while Isha was occupied with house chores and her upcoming exams. Arshad couldn’t find a moment to spend with his secret wife, as he had to oversee the wedding arrangements and manage his office work. Meanwhile, Sofia monopolized all his spare time since she hadn’t finished her shopping yet.

"Arshad, look! This is so beautiful, isn’t it?" Sofia asked, showing him a pair of high heels. Arshad looked up at her from his laptop.

"Yes, but I’d still choose that black one," he replied with a smirk. Sofia rolled her eyes.

"Pervert," she muttered, walking toward the mirror. These were the heels Sofia had worn on their first date, the heels she had fallen on him in while in a very embarrassing position. He had held her that closely for the first time that day.

"Hey! Who did you call a pervert?" he asked, pretending to be offended.

"I can’t see anyone else other than you," she replied, brushing her hair. He walked toward her, leaning against the dressing table.

"Loving my wife doesn’t make me a pervert," he said, crossing his arms.

"Correction: flirting," Sofia said, pointing her finger.

"Correction: even flirting with my wife doesn’t make me a pervert," he said, holding her finger and pulling her closer. She placed her hands on his chest.

"We are getting late, baby," she whispered, staring into his eyes.

"Sometimes it doesn’t hurt," he muttered, leaning closer to her lips.

---

Isha stood at the door with Mrs. Malik to welcome some guests who were arriving to stay at the house until the wedding. A few families had already arrived and were settled in the guest rooms, while they awaited Arshad’s phupu (paternal aunt).

"Bring them inside," an elderly woman entered with two young girls, around sixteen or seventeen, dressed in western attire.

"Assalamualaikum, Zubia aapa," Mrs. Malik greeted warmly. The woman smiled back.

"Wal aikum assalam, bhabi," they exchanged a slight hug before parting.

"Aunty," Arshad called out brightly as he saw her.

"Arshad," she smiled, walking toward him.

"How are you, aunty?" he asked, hugging her sideways.

"Like before—young and beautiful," she said arrogantly, causing him to laugh. "And you?"

"Like always, hot and handsome," he winked, and everyone laughed.

Isha couldn’t stop her smile as she watched her husband being playful and happy after so long. Arshad’s eyes fell on her, making his grin widen. He felt at peace after accepting Isha as his wife. Her smiles and stares filled him with joy, though he felt guilty whenever Isha and Sofia were around simultaneously. Loving both wives was a reality he had to accept. He prayed that Sofia, when she learned of his secret, would understand and accept it.

"Aapa, I’ll escort you and the girls to your room," Mrs. Malik said after a while.

"Yes, please. I’m really tired," Zubia replied, following Mrs. Malik.

Now, Arshad and Isha were alone in the doorway.

"Where’s Sofia baaji?" Isha asked. Arshad glanced at her.

"She’s with my cousins," he replied. Isha nodded.

"Isha," Arshad stepped closer. She looked around.

"Jee?" she asked, still scanning the surroundings. He held her hand.

"Go get ready. We’re going out," he announced.

"Where?" Isha asked.

"For shopping…"

"There’s no—"

"No. Don’t refuse," he stopped her. "I want to shop for my wife."

Isha’s heart skipped a beat at his words. He smiled at her flushed cheeks. Once he ensured no one was watching, he leaned in slightly and pecked her cheek, making her breath hitch. She looked adorable, and Arshad resisted the urge to nibble her cheeks.

"Now don’t make faces like this, Isha. Go get ready," he said, walking away. Isha’s heart raced as she slowly walked to her room, a beautiful smile on her lips.

---

"Ya Khuda, bas kare, Arsh! (Oh God! Stop now, Arsh!)" Isha said tiredly, holding his arms as Arshad excitedly examined every dress on the racks. She had tried many, and now she was exhausted.

"Isha, you said… now you won’t stop me from buying anything for you," he said, turning toward her.

"Aapne pehle hi bahot kuch leliya hai. Mujhe aur kuch nahi chahiye. (You’ve already bought me so much. I don’t want anything else)," she said.

"Par mujhe chahiye. (But I want to)," he replied, gently pushing her aside to continue. Arshad bought her many dresses and accessories, showing such care and consideration that Isha’s heart melted further with every passing moment.

After finishing their shopping, they left the mall.

"Jaldi ghar chalein, bahot der hogayi hai. (Let’s go home; it’s too late)" Isha said, sitting beside him.

"Abhi to sirf 7 baje hai. Kaha der huyi? (It’s only 7. How is it too late?)" he asked, starting the engine.

"What will I say to Amma Jaan when she asks where I was?" Isha asked, looking at him. He was completely unfazed, enjoying the drive.

"You already said you were going to your classmate’s house for group study," he said with a smirk. Isha huffed.

"Aap mujhse bahot jhut bulwatey hai. (You make me lie so much)," she pouted.

"Is hi jhoot me to maza hai, meri jaan. (It’s fun lying like this, my love)," he said, pinching her cheeks. Isha’s heart skipped again.

"Buri baat. (A bad thing)," she murmured, looking out the window with a blushing smile.

"We’re here," he said, stopping the car. Isha looked around.

"Why are you stopping on the street?"

"We’re going there," he said, pointing toward a panipuri (golgappa) stall.

He opened her door, held her wrist, and led her to the stall. Isha glanced around nervously.

"Agar kisi ne dekh liya to… (If anyone sees us together…)" she whispered.

"Dekh liya to dekh liya. I don’t care. (If anyone sees, so be it)," he shrugged and approached the vendor. After accepting Isha, he behaved carelessly.

Arshad wanted to reveal their secret marriage but couldn’t risk ruining Asam’s wedding. He knew a clash would follow if the truth came out, so he chose patience. He couldn’t leave Isha, nor could he leave Sofia. Both were now part of him. If Sofia was his heart, Isha was his heartbeat; if Sofia was his breath, Isha was the air she breathed; if Sofia was his life, Isha was the reason he lived.

"Open your mouth," he instructed, bringing a panipuri toward her lips. Isha ate it carefully, and a few drops of pani (water) dripped onto her chin. She covered her mouth with her hand.

"It’s spicy," Isha mumbled, blowing on it.

"You don’t know how to eat," he chuckled at her cute red face, handing her some water. "I’ll ask him to make it sweet," he said, returning to the vendor.

After a few rounds of sweet panipuri, Isha requested spicy again, then sweet, which he happily fulfilled. Arshad was overjoyed seeing her enjoy herself without hesitation or refusal. Finally, he could care for her in his own way, and seeing her happy filled his heart completely.

***********

"Come," he said, opening her door.

"What will we say? How will we explain being together?" Isha asked. He sighed.

"Leave that to me. And please, Isha, stop worrying like this. We live under the same roof, so no one will suspect us if they see us coming home together," he said, holding her wrist and gently pulling her out of the car.

Isha nodded, releasing her wrist, and they walked into the house together.

"Where were you, Arshad?" Sofia asked, noticing her husband entering. She was in the living room with his cousins and Zubia phupo (paternal aunt).

"I was stuck with some work," he replied, walking toward her. Sofia glanced behind him and saw Isha following. Before she could ask anything, Arshad added, "I was coming when I saw Isha trying to catch an auto, so I thought I’d bring her with me." As always, he gave the same excuse.

Sofia nodded. Isha avoided her gaze, excusing herself and walking to her room.

It was difficult. Lying to everyone, especially Sofia, felt heavy on her conscience. Sometimes she felt like a criminal, which she wasn’t. She just became selfish to have her husband’s love and support, that’s all. Like Arshad, it wasn’t her choice. If it were up to her, she would never come between them, she would never share Arshad with anyone—but she was helpless. She knew she had to accept Sofia and Arshad’s marriage, which she had done from the beginning. She accepted that before her, Sofia had rights over Arshad. It was all planned by Allah, and they had to accept His decision.

Isha and Arshad both silently hoped and prayed that now Sofia would also accept Allah’s will.

As Isha opened the door and stepped into her room, a shout stopped her.

"What the hell?! Get out of our room!" Isha was startled by the voice. Looking toward the bed, she found two young girls sitting on it, wearing shorts, a laptop in front of them.

"Didn't you hear?! Get out now! And don’t dare walk in next time without knocking!" They were Zubia’s daughters, Jiya and Riya.

"Ye mera kamra hai! (This is my room!)" Isha argued.

"Till we’re here, it’s ours," Jiya said arrogantly.

"What’s happening?" Zubia rushed in, hearing her daughters’ shouts. Mrs. Malik, Sofia, and Arshad followed. The girls quickly covered their bare legs with blankets.

"Mom, that girl walked in without knocking!" Riya complained. Zubia looked at Isha.

"It’s bad manners to enter someone’s room without knocking, you…"

"It’s her room," Arshad interrupted firmly.

"Uh… Zubia aapa, she is Isha… and this was her room," Mrs. Malik explained. Arshad and Isha both looked at her. "She didn’t know the girls would be staying here until the wedding. She had gone to her friend’s house and just returned."

"Oh…"

"Amma Jaan, this is Isha’s room," Arshad clarified.

"I know," Mrs. Malik said, stepping closer to him. "But we didn’t have another spare room, and the girls wanted to stay in one, so I had to do that," she explained, looking at Isha with guilt.

"Where will Isha stay then?" Arshad asked, his gaze hard.

"They didn’t throw her things out. She can go to her room after knocking whenever she needs anything," Sofia said.

"And where will she sleep?" he asked, glaring at Sofia.

"She can sleep in the living room," Sofia replied carelessly.

"The boys already decided to sleep in the living room," Arshad reminded her.

"She can sleep in the kitchen. It’s only a matter of a few days," Zubia suggested. Arshad shot her a glare.

"She won’t sleep in the kitchen," he asserted firmly.

"Arshad, beta, we have to adjust for Asam’s wedding," Mrs. Malik said gently, knowing Arshad’s protective nature toward Isha. He never allowed anyone to treat her poorly, as she was an orphan, and Mrs. Malik had taken her in, treating her like a daughter. Sometimes, however, circumstances forced her to act in ways that seemed unfair.

"Isha won’t sleep in the kitchen!" he repeated, clenching his jaw. Isha stared at the mother-son duo. Mrs. Malik’s eyes pleaded, while Arshad’s eyes were determined.

"It’s… it’s okay. I’ll sleep," she interrupted the staring contest. Arshad whipped his head toward her.

"No…"

"If she has no problem, why argue, Arshad?" Sofia asked, before he could respond.

"Sofia, you…"

"It’s only for a few days. I’ll manage," Isha said quickly, before he could speak. She glanced at him, pleading silently. She didn’t want any conflict in the house; she knew Arshad also wanted the wedding to proceed smoothly. She would do whatever it took to maintain peace.

Arshad stared at Isha. There was nothing he could say. Helpless, with no other choice, he stormed out of the room, jaw clenched, a rising guilt burning in his heart.

★★★