Author’s POV

Isha followed him as she saw Amma Jaan and Sofia engrossed with Zubia aunty.

“Sunein (Listen),” he said, heading toward his room, with her trailing behind.

As he reached the door and was about to close it, Isha stopped in front of it, halting his action.

“Listen to me,” he glared at her but moved aside with a jerk, beginning to pass into the room. Isha stepped in.

“Sun… (Lis…)” she tried.

“Tum suno! (You listen!)” he shouted, turning to her. “You will not sleep in the kitchen!” he decreed, emphasizing every word.

“It’s just for a few days,” she pleaded. He shook his head.

“No, no Isha… You won’t…”

“Amma Jaan, there’s no other option… It’s a wedding house, we all have to adjust and compromise,” Isha said softly. Arshad stepped closer.

“Why always you?” he muttered, more to himself than her. Isha placed her hand on his arm.

“Because Allah knows I can understand and withstand,” she said, smiling faintly.

“I’m sorry, Isha. I’m the most horrible husband in this world. I’m sorry that I can’t stop all this right now, but I promise you I will tell everyone about us after Asam’s wedding,” he said, holding her arms, his eyes filled with guilt.

“It’s okay. Don’t feel bad. Aap mere sath hai yahi kafi hai, ab mai har mushkil ka samna kar sakti hun. Aur aap duniya ke sabse acche husband hai. Mere liye sirf aap hai (It’s enough that you are with me, now I can face every problem, and you are the best husband in the world; for me, it’s only you),” she said, melting his heart. Arshad pulled her into his arms.

“Tum bahot acchi ho, Isha. (You are too good, Isha),” he muttered, kissing her head, hugging her tightly as warmth spread through him.

“Aap bhi bahot ache ho (You’re good too),” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around him.

“Mai nahi manta. (I don’t believe it.) If I did, I wouldn’t let you suffer like this,” he said, his voice heavy with sadness.

“It’s not your fault. It was written in my destiny,” she said, looking into his eyes. Arshad’s heart filled with love and respect for her even more. Even now, she didn’t blame him. He cupped her face, kissed her forehead, and rested his forehead against hers.

“You’re making me crazy for you even more,” Arshad whispered. Isha blushed.

“I should go,” she mumbled after a moment. Arshad pulled back, nodding helplessly.

---

Isha’s POV

“I’m really sorry, Isha.”

I was in the kitchen, spreading blankets on the floor, ready to sleep, when I heard Amma Jaan. I turned and saw her standing in the doorway, guilt in her eyes. She walked toward me.

“You know, I would’ve never let this happen if I could, but…” she trailed off.

“It’s… it’s okay, Amma Jaan,” I replied with a small, forced smile. Amma Jaan smiled back.

“Hmm… I came to ask if you want anything? And did you have your dinner?”

“Yes, I had, and no, I don’t want anything,” I replied politely. Amma Jaan nodded before leaving.

I sat on the blankets I had spread on the floor, tears filling my eyes. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened to me. Back in my village, my Amma—stepmother—used to give my room to her friends and cousins and force me to sleep in the kitchen during functions.

Sometimes I felt my life hadn’t changed. In my father’s house, Amma made me her servant; here, in my husband’s house, circumstances made me their maid. A tear rolled down my cheek. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs.

Your life has changed, Isha… You are Arshad’s wife. He has accepted you. He cares for you. He just needs time to acknowledge your marriage and give you the rights you deserve. A little more patience, and everything will be alright.

My subconscious whispered, making me feel slightly better. Wiping my tears, I lay on the floor, hugging the blanket to feel his presence. Sleep overtook me before I realized it.

“Mmm,” a moan escaped my lips in deep slumber. Something tightened around my waist, but it gave me a strange warmth. I held the blanket tightly, feeling peace surround me.

“I’m sorry, meri jaan,” a soft voice whispered near my ear. Warm breath brushed my skin. My eyes shot open—someone was holding me from behind. I didn’t need to think twice; it was him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, snuggling into my neck. I slowly turned to face him. His eyes were filled with water, reflecting his guilt and pain.

“Kya hua? (What happened?)” I asked, cupping his face. He held my hand and kissed my palm.

“I’m sorry, Isha… I’m sorry… You have to endure all this, and I… I can’t do anything. I’ve become a coward,” he mumbled, teary-eyed, breaking my heart.

“Aisa mat kahiye… Please (Don’t say that),” I said, caressing his cheeks, wiping away the tear threatening to fall.

“It’s true… I’m a coward… I’m ashamed… I cannot give you the rights you deserve. I don’t deserve your kindness. I don’t deserve your love. I don’t—”

“Shhh,” I placed my finger on his lips to silence him. He stared at me.

“It’s enough! Ab ek aur lafz nahi mere shohar ke khilaf. (I won’t hear a single word against my husband.)” I said, eyes blazing. He gently moved my finger away from his lips.

“Your husband is the worst person…”

No. I could not let him speak like this about himself. He was my Arsh, and I meant it.

Doesn’t matter what he could or couldn’t do for me. I had still fallen for him, hopelessly, helplessly.

Doesn’t matter if he deserved my love or not. I still loved him more than anything in this world.

Doesn’t matter if he was only mine or not. I was still his, and only his.

---

Author’s POV

“Your husband is the worst person…”

His voice died in his throat, his breath caught in his chest, eyes widening as his heartbeat skipped a beat.

Isha silenced him with her lips. She kissed him. She didn’t know where her courage came from, but hearing her husband speak ill of himself was unbearable.

Arshad went rigid as her lips touched his. All the turmoil from earlier vanished. His eyes became hazy, hands tightened around her.

Isha shot her eyes open, trying to move, but it was too late—his grip held her firmly.

He pushed her onto her back, hovering above her, kissing her softly. Isha trembled beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders. Arshad covered them both with the blanket.

The kiss was soft at first, but soon, both poured their love into it. Isha moaned into his mouth, pressing his control even further. He pressed his body against hers, and the innocent wife gasped at his boldness. Her eyes widened. Arshad bit her lips before pulling back slightly.

“Don’t be shocked, my little innocent wifey… This is what you do to me,” he muttered huskily. Isha’s cheeks flushed crimson. She lowered her gaze, wrapping her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck.

But Arshad wasn’t in the mood to spare her innocence. He wanted to make her… a little more aware of their love.

His hands roamed her untouched body. Isha’s breath hitched at touches she had never imagined. Her heartbeat raced, breathing uneven.

“Arsh,” a whisper escaped her lips, and he was back on her mouth instantly.

“Isha,” Arshad mumbled against her lips. His lips trailed to her neck, sending butterflies through her. Her hands clutched his hair, eyes closed in pleasure. He left wet kisses all over her neck.

“Arsh…” she moaned. “Ruk jaein (Stop),” she tried to protest, though part of her wanted the moment to continue.

“No… Isha, I can’t,” he groaned, tightening his grip. His love for her demanded release. He wanted her fully, in every sense of the word.

“Please… Hum… hum kitchen me hai (We… we are in the kitchen),” she whispered, trying to create distance.

“Urrgh,” he grunted but finally moved back. Isha exhaled in relief.

“You’re making me crazy, Isha,” he whispered close to her ear, still hovering. Isha hugged him tighter.

“And you’re blocking my senses,” she mumbled. He gently lifted her chin.

“Just the way you’ve been since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he murmured.

“Accha? (Really?)” she asked, surprised.

“Saccha (Truly),” he adjusted her in his arms. “You know, Isha, when I first saw you, I found you cute, beautiful, and very young. But as I was married, I didn’t think inappropriately. After returning from Dubai, whenever I looked at you, my heart would beat abnormally.” He paused, cupping her face. “Your innocence… your longing, lonely eyes… made me fall for you. Whenever I hurt you, my heart burned. But tied by my loyalty to Sofia, I didn’t have the courage to accept you. I never wanted to hurt you, Isha. I wanted you happy without me…”

“I can never be happy without you,” Isha interrupted, her eyes watering. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

Arshad smiled and kissed her forehead.

“I know… I know, meri jaan… and I can never be happy without you either,” he confessed. Isha sobbed softly. Arshad rubbed her back, whispering sweet words until she fell asleep in his arms. He held her tightly, kissing her head and cheeks intermittently. He couldn’t believe he had fallen so deeply in love with her. The thought of losing her made a painful knot in his stomach.

“I love you, Isha… I love you so much,” he whispered, kissing her temple. Staring at her sleepy face, he too drifted into a deep slumber.

********

Arshad was in a deep sleep when he tried to move his arms but couldn’t. Opening his eyes, he found the most innocent face he had ever seen beside him. Isha was sleeping next to him, clinging like a baby. A smile instantly spread across his lips.

“My baby wife,” he murmured, kissing her nose, forehead, and cheeks, gently waking her. She slowly opened her eyes and met her husband’s gaze, filled with love and admiration. She smiled back.

“Good morning,” he whispered, squeezing her waist slightly to pull her fully awake.

“Good morn… Subha ho gayi!!!! (It’s morning!!)” Isha jolted up, looking around. The kitchen was bathed in the soft light of sunrise. She searched for her mobile, which she had placed beside her pillow the night before. Seeing the time, she exhaled in relief—it was only 6:30. The family and guests must still be asleep.

“Why are you always so scared?” he asked, resting his head on his hand while lying down.

“Because I don’t want to be caught with you in an inappropriate manner. If this world needs to know about our secret marriage, it should be you who reveals it. I don’t want anyone questioning your reputation or my character,” she replied.

Arshad sat up, smiling. He looked at her affectionately and cupped her face with one hand.

“You’re a gem,” Arshad whispered, connecting their lips. Isha’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. She still wasn’t used to such intimacy.

“And you are mine,” he murmured against her lips. She couldn’t help but smile at his words.

Yes, she believed him. She was his in every sense, and always would be.

Isha placed her hands on his shoulders, kissing him back slowly. Their love and bond deepened with every passing moment.

---

After breakfast, everyone began preparations for the grand mehndi. Isha had to wait while the sisters finished their own drama—they had been deciding what to wear for two hours.

Isha sat on the lawn, her mobile in hand. Arshad had forbidden her from doing any household work until the wedding, and this time she decided to listen. She had told everyone she had a mild fever from sleeping on the floor the night before—and everyone believed her because Isha had never lied. No one asked her to do anything.

A smile curved her lips as she remembered their night and morning in the kitchen. She pressed the corner of her mobile to her lips, smiling and blushing at their memories. After that kiss, Arshad had gone to his room—not before warning her not to do any work.

“When Isha asks what she’ll do all day,” he had teased, “think about your husband and what this hot husband of yours can do other than just a kiss,” he had said with a wink, leaving her furiously blushing.

“Who is this beautiful girl??” a voice startled her. Looking up, she saw a handsome man standing before her, a perverted smile on his face. Isha frowned in displeasure.

“Don’t make that face, honey. It breaks my beautiful vision of you smiling at me,” he pouted.

“I… uh… sorry… who are you?” Isha asked, ignoring his flirtation.

“I am the man of your dreams,” he stepped closer with an evil smirk. Isha cringed at his words.

“Excuse me,” she decided to walk away, but he blocked her path.

“Listen…” she said sharply, “move away… I’m not interested.”

As she stepped forward, he grabbed her wrist.

“At least tell me your name,” he demanded, pulling her closer. Isha shuddered, disgusted, and instinctively slapped him across the face.

“How dare you touch me!?” she yelled, yanking her hand free. “Next time, remember this slap before touching any girl without permission!”

He glared at her angrily.

“You dare slap me!!” he shouted, raising his hand—but it got caught.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… First you flirt with her, and now you make another mistake,” Arshad appeared, fury in his eyes. “This time, I will respond to your mistake… and trust me, bro, you won’t like it.”

“Arshad bhaiya… sorry, sorry!” another boy came running toward them. “He’s my elder brother, Waheed… just returned from the USA. He’s unaware of our religion and its limits,” Waleed, Amar’s friend, explained.

“And what is he doing here?” Arshad asked, arms crossed.

“Amar invited my family, and Waheed came along. Waheed says sorry to Isha,” Waleed instructed. Waheed clenched his jaw but muttered “Sorry” as told.

“I’m letting this go because he’s your brother, Waleed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t spare a second to throw him out for misbehaving with a woman in my house,” Arshad said, glancing at Isha, who understood his silent command and walked inside.

“You should throw him out!” Isha muttered, following Arshad.

“If you want, I’ll do it now,” he said, turning, but she held his arm.

“Nahi, jane dein… Warna Amar ko jawab dena hoga… They are his guests. (No, leave it; otherwise we have to answer to Amar),” she whispered.

“Okay… If you say so. Waise, jawab to tume accha diya use… I was going to break his hand for daring to touch you, but when you slapped him, my anger decreased,” he said, stopping close to her. Isha looked at him.

“I’m proud of you, meri sherni (my tigress),” he praised, pinching her nose with a smile.

“How could I not? I’ve hated it since childhood when any man comes near me or touches me—it disgusts me,” she said, making horrified faces.

“Any man?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her.

“Except you,” she mumbled, blushing.

“Are you sure? You won’t feel disgusted by me?” he asked playfully. Isha got startled.

“No, no… Don’t take my words the wrong way… I don’t feel disgusted by you… Balke mujhe to bahot accha lagta hai jab aap mujhe… (In fact, I feel good when you…)” she began, realizing her boldness, biting her lips as she glanced into his intense eyes.

“Accha lagta hai? (You feel good?)” he asked, pulling her closer.

She couldn’t take her words back. Could she?

“Han… Aap sukoon hai mera (Yes… you are my peace),” she whispered. Arshad smiled and rested his forehead on hers.

“Aur tum mera qarar (And you are my solace),” he said, unable to stop himself. Isha clenched his shirt, and they remained lost in their moment, unaware of Waheed standing at the door, eyes wide in shock.

“Waheed… why are you standing here? Let’s meet Amar,” Waleed’s voice startled them. They separated instantly but could feel Waheed’s burning gaze. Arshad glared back, unaffected.

Isha walked away, annoyed, and Arshad returned to his room.

“Chal Bhai,” Waleed dragged him inside, heading toward Amar’s room.

“Arshad is Amar’s eldest brother, right?” Waheed asked. Waleed nodded. “And he is married?”

“Yes… to the most beautiful girl… Sofia bhabi, the famous designer… Sofia Malik,” Waleed said happily. Waheed’s eyes widened.

“And who is that girl, Isha?” he asked after a pause.

“She’s an orphan. She lives with Amar’s family… Two years ago, Amar’s mother brought her home as she had no one else to take care of her. So his mother gave her shelter,” Waleed explained, noticing his brother lost in thought.

“Listen, brother… Amar tried to charm this girl for a year, but she paid no heed. He even proposed marriage, but she refused. That girl is not easy,” Waleed muttered.

“Sems like it wasn’t hard for Mr. Arshad Malik,” Waheed murmured, smirking. He was already plotting his revenge.

★★★