Isha’s POV

I got dressed in the outfit Arshad had bought for me. It looked beautiful. I looked beautiful. Today was the mehndi function at Sabiya’s house. Arshad had said the function would be grand, and he wanted me to look my absolute best.

I walked out of the room. Riya and Jiya had already gotten ready earlier and left with their other cousins to practice their dance performance.

I stood in the hall beside Amma Jaan, who was waiting for the others.

"You look pretty, Isha…" Amma complimented, glancing at me. I smiled in response.

"Arshad! Sofia! Come quickly, we are getting late!" she yelled. Just then, they walked out of their room. My eyes froze as I stared at Sofia Baaji. She looked stunning—more beautiful than me.

"Sorry, Amma Jaan… Sofia can’t get enough of her dressing… She wants to…" Arshad paused as his eyes landed on me. His step halted. “…to look the best," he completed, and my cheeks flushed as I lowered my gaze. He was staring at me openly, in front of Amma Jaan and Sofia Baaji, who was busy adjusting her scarf and hadn’t noticed.

"I always look the best," Sofia Baaji said proudly. "Now come on, we are getting late," she said, walking toward the door.

"Yes, we are getting late… Everyone is already gone. Even Asam and Amar left for Sabiya’s house a few minutes ago," Amma Jaan added, walking behind Sofia Baaji.

I stepped toward the front door, but just then, Arshad held my wrist to stop me.

"You didn’t need to look this breathtaking, Isha," he breathed, making a shiver run down my spine. I looked down, blushing.

"How am I supposed to leave you alone?" he groaned, muttering under his breath. I smiled shyly. He held my chin, lifting my face to meet his.

"You will be the death of me, girl," Arshad whispered before pecking my lips. My heart skipped a beat, and goosebumps rose all over my body. I still couldn’t get used to his affection and touches; though they made me feel wonderful, they also made me shiver.

"You better stay around me," he whispered, placing his hand on my back and guiding me out of the house. His compliments and reactions made me feel radiant and cherished. I smiled happily.

He sat in the front with Sofia Baaji, while I sat with Amma Jaan.

Arshad started the car, and we were on our way to the venue. I looked out of the window. The weather was fresh and calm. The sun had already set, giving the evening a more enchanting glow. A slight smile touched my lips. My eyes went to the rearview mirror unexpectedly, and I found my husband staring at me through it. My smile widened, and my cheeks glowed.

Sofia Baaji was engrossed in her mobile, and Amma Jaan was talking to Asam Bhai on the call. We were busy staring at each other. I gestured for him to look ahead and mouthed, "We don’t want an accident."

He glanced at me, then typed something on his mobile, just as my phone vibrated.

"I’ve already met with an accident. And there is no way I could recover easily."

He made a fake pout, making a giggle escape my lips.

"Cheesy," I mouthed before turning to the window, shaking my head to hide my smile.

A few minutes later, we arrived. We got out of the car and walked inside.

Suddenly, I felt a pang in my chest. I shouldn’t have, but I did—I felt hurt. Sofia Baaji linked her arms with his, and they walked inside like the perfect couple, while I walked alone behind them. Amma Jaan followed them.

---

Author’s POV

The function was ongoing. Everyone was performing the rasam (ritual). Sofia and Arshad were busy attending to the guests, the groom, and the bride.

Isha stood with Jawad. Kubra Bi was busy with Amma Jaan.

"Aapi… let’s have some ice cream," Jawad demanded.

"Abhi? (Now?)" she asked. He nodded.

"Okay…" She looked around, realizing she knew most of the guests but wasn’t close to any of them. They all felt like strangers. She went with Jawad to get some ice cream.

Arshad kept glancing at her. Though he might be engaging with others, his focus was entirely on Isha. He saw her walking toward the ice cream counter and knew Sofia was busy with her friends, so she wouldn’t notice if he disappeared for a while.

"I’ll just come," he decided, informing her, and she nodded with a smile, turning back to her friends.

He walked toward Isha and stood behind her. She handed an ice cream cup to Jawad and turned to get one for herself. Arshad motioned for Jawad to go to him. Jawad frowned but went anyway.

"Your mama is alone there… Go and give her company," Arshad softly instructed. Jawad looked where Arshad pointed and nodded, walking to his mother.

"Not now," Isha said, startled by his voice behind her. She turned to him, frowning.

"What?" she asked.

"Ice cream," he smiled. "We’ll have ice cream after dinner." Isha nodded.

"Jawad?" she asked, looking around.

"I sent him to his mother," Arshad replied.

She said nothing further and moved to a corner of the house, knowing Arshad would come to her.

"What happened, Isha?" he asked, approaching.

"Nothing," she replied. Arshad slowly held her fingers, taking her hand.

"Bolo… kya hua? (Tell me… what happened?)" he asked softly, caressing her hand and looking into her eyes.

"I… I feel out of place… I… I don’t want to feel this, but I do… I feel hurt… No one needs me… My presence isn’t important," she blurted out, staring into his hypnotizing eyes. She had felt this way since entering the house, envious of everyone who had their spouse—free to smile, hold hands, and talk. She, meanwhile, was alone, forced to watch her husband with his first wife.

Arshad’s heart ached seeing her hurt. He knew Isha deserved all the happiness in the world, and he felt guilty for being unable to give her that. He stepped closer.

"I need you… Your presence brings PEACE to me," he confessed, staring into her eyes, emphasizing each word. Isha’s heartbeat skipped, and tears welled up. Arshad cupped one side of her face.

"Don’t ever think that you are not important… You’ve become my smile… My happiness… My solace…"

"Aap… aap sach keh rahe hain? (Are you telling the truth?)" she asked innocently. Arshad smiled before pecking her forehead.

"Tumhari kasam (I swear on you)," he said. A tear escaped her eyes. Unknowingly, he spoke words he had never said to Sofia—words that came from the depth of his heart, words that meant the world.

"Arshad," a voice called, pulling them apart.

"Adil," Arshad responded, seeing him approach.

"Bro… what are you doing??? Anyone could see you guys together," Adil said in a worried tone.

"Then let them… It will be easier for me," Arshad muttered. Adil frowned.

"Matlab? (What do you mean?)"

"Matlab, I want everyone to know that Isha is my wife," Arshad said confidently. Adil was taken aback.

"Arshad…" Before he could continue, Sofia appeared. "What are you guys doing here? I was looking for you," she said, addressing Arshad.

"Nothing… I…"

"Leave it… Come with me, everyone is waiting for dinner," she said hurriedly, holding his hand and dragging him along. In her hurry, she didn’t notice that Arshad was still holding Isha’s hand, lost in a trance, unable to let go.

Isha felt a heavy weight in her chest as his hand slowly slipped from hers.

Arshad turned to her, meeting her pained eyes. A moment ago, he had spoken comforting, passionate words, and now he felt helpless again. Isha didn’t want to admit it, but she felt that Arshad could never fully be hers. Sofia was his first wife and would always have the privilege to claim him, even if he wanted to be with Isha.

"Bhabi," Adil’s voice pulled Isha out of her trance. She looked at him and saw concern in his eyes. She smiled softly.

"I’m okay, Adil Bhai," she said, wiping away the lone tear, and walked away.

---

Isha sat alone outside Sabiya’s house. Many guests had already left. Only a few close friends and family remained inside. She felt like a stranger, unwanted. Everyone was busy with dinner, and she felt invisible.

She looked up at the night sky. The stars and moon shimmered like decorations. The evening was calm and beautiful.

Closing her eyes to calm herself, she felt a sudden wave of anxiety, as if something bad were about to happen. Her eyes shot open, sensing someone watching her. Yet, no one was around.

Her unease grew. She took out her phone and dialed Arshad’s number.

"Hello," he answered.

"Aap… aap please bahar aajaein… (Please come outside)" she pleaded, her voice trembling.

"What happens?" he asked, worried.

"Kuch nahi… bas aap aajaein (Nothing… just come out)."

"I’m at the dinner table… I can’t come," he said helplessly. Isha’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t come.

"What happens? Come back inside," he urged.

"I’m okay. Enjoy your dinner," she said, cutting the call. A sob escaped her lips.

"Calm down, Isha… he is busy… if he could, he would have come," she tried to convince herself.

But her tears wouldn’t stop. She had fallen too deeply for Arshad; now she longed to be called his wife. She wanted him entirely, yet he was too occupied to fulfill her wish.

"May I ask why these precious tears of yours are going to waste?"

She looked up sharply to see Waheed approaching—a person she least expected.

He smiled and walked toward her.

"None of your concern," Isha said, standing to turn away. But he blocked her path.

She shuddered at the evil glint in his eyes.

"Dekhiye… mujhe jaane dein… please (Listen… let me go… please)," she pleaded weakly.

"Aise kaise, mohtarma… abhi to mile hai… (How can I, lady? We just met)," he said with a smirk, stepping closer.

Isha looked around—no one was near. The loud music from the house masked her screams. Her heart raced. She was alone with him in the garden.

"St… stay away from me," she whispered, stepping back.

"Why? You didn’t ask Arshad to stay away," he laughed. Her eyes widened. "Don’t be shocked… I saw you both cling to each other," he said. "May I ask why you were acting like lovebirds?"

"It’s none of your business," she gritted her teeth. Waheed smirked.

"Your his maid, right? No… wait… you’re his mistress," he said. Isha felt her ground slip as she heard the word mistress.

No. She was his wife.

"How dare you?" she raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it.

"Oh… Itna gussa… (So angry) but you know I’m right. He has a wife, and you’re nothing but his mistress. His mistress," he whispered.

"Shut up… just shut up… I’m not his mistress… I’m his…" Isha’s eyes filled with tears. She wanted to say more but couldn’t; she had promised Arshad to keep their marriage a secret.

"You are what? Don’t tell me you actually believe he loves you," Waheed laughed.

"You don’t know anything about us… just leave me!" she pushed him and tried to run. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back, pressing her against his chest.

"Why so hurry, Isha? I won’t eat you," he whispered near her ear. A cold shiver ran through her body. Disgust consumed her. She struggled violently.

"Let go of me!!" she screamed, trying to break free from his filthy grip.

"Oh… you smell so good. Now I understand why Arshad went crazy for you," he whispered, inhaling her scent. Isha felt like dying. Gathering all her strength, she pushed him away and ran toward the house—but he caught her again, dragging her to a far corner of the garden. He began tearing her dress. She screamed continuously, but the loud music drowned her innocent pleas for help.

★★★★