"Abbaji, please don't be angry with your daughter. You are my only family here. Pretty please" I plead with puppy dog eyes trying to convince him. He hasn't spoken to me properly in the past three days. Now I know where the Great Asad Khan gets his stubbornness from.

He lifts his eyes from the newspaper glancing at me and then grabs the cup of tea. Is that a truce call? I sit down beside him enquiring about his health.

"You should stop asking me that. You plan to leave the haveli soon anyway. Let's not get habituated." Abbaji says sulking. It would be hard to believe he is a Sarpanch right now.

If I could, I wouldn't ever leave you all Abbaji.

"Even if I am still not here, I will ask you just that everyday. Now please answer me honestly, I already beat too much around the bush. I am going to be straight forward. Do you see Saroj Chachi as your potential wife?"

His eyes widen and he coughs the tea out. He turns toward me as if I have grown two heads.

"What are you talking about beta? Why would I need to marry again?"

"Abbaji, loneliness is a fatal disease. You don't just need somebody to take care of you after I leave but a companion as well. Someone to share your happiness, your grief with. I see her fitting the role well. I know you guys have some history, but I hope there is a chance for new beginnings."

" Hooriya, whatever you ar-... "

"Dad, can I come in" We hear a knock on the door before he could continue.

Now what new drama us he going to create.

Abbaji gives him a stoic nod.

"Dad, I wanted you to meet my fiancé.

Sabrina" He moved aside to reveal a tall slender woman with perfect curves and a classy style in a snug long dress that I would rather wear to a party.

She looks tall but that's the work of her 7 inch heel. She looks curvy because the cloth is hugging her like second skin. Her winged eyeliner makes her look like a chudail. Overall, she is no match to my Asad.

Whoa, jealousy is dripping like honey from a honeycomb from you Hooriya.

She comes ahead bending slightly saying salam. Abbaji has just as much of a disgusted look as I. Still, he nods keeping his stoic look.

I turn towards my lovely husband to see his eyes already trained on me. Unconsciously, my gaze dips to his knuckles that his highness oh do graciously got bruised. I know about his escapades to the gym, his driver told me he broke three of the punching bags already. What exactly is he upto?

I smile politely, trying to make sure he doesn't see the fakeness of it. My lips quirk with an eyebrow raised which meant 'she has the looks' and he cocked his eyebrow.

'You think so'

I shrug, what has my opinion got to do with it. He was marrying her anyway. He is dressed in a tailored black suit with a red tie and man is it sexy. I don't hide the appreciation in my eyes, not like its wrong. He is still my husband.

This time both his eyebrows raise in mock surprise. I know he caught me checking him out. I turn around to see her involved in a mundane conversation with Abbaji. . So I walk towards Asad, whispering in his ears, "So this is what your choice would look like. Not bad, eh. So the outgoing and westernised women are your type"

"If you put it that way, yes. I don't really go with the shy and conservative type you know, gets boring." I know he said that purposely but it still stung. The hurt seeps into my bones, penetrating my heart at a lightning pace. But I wouldn't be Asad Raheem Khan's wife if I let such petty comments get to me, even if they are from Asad Raheem Khan himself.

So I turn completely to him, smiling bitterly, "You have made that crystal clear already. But I was told Vijayapeti men prefer pious and pure wives, I was looking for someone like that you know. Him and I could be a great match."

His expression hardens and I bet his fists are clenched. Before he can reply I walk away greeting the one woman I wished didn't exist.

"Salam. Nice to meet you, I am Hooriya." She turns to me nervously, smiling as if she is waiting for a blow any moment. Funny. I would be no harm to her, it's not her fault my husband prefers her over me.

"Wassalam. I am Sabrina. You are pretty"

"Thanks but not all would agree with you. By the way, what do you do for a living?"

"Well, I am a finance Manager in a company in London."

"Nice. London is my dream city. Wish I could visit there." I say genuinely excited.

"Oh yeah. I will take you there with me sometime. You know, the life is wonderful there. I will show you some of the pictures I clicked from my gallery. They are splendid." She rambles equally excited. I almost forget she is going to have my man. Almost.

And rest of the time that she was here, we chatted happily like long lost friends. Which for some reason seemed to have agitated Asad if his creasing brows are anything to go by.

Finally, he calls it a day and asks if he should drop her like a gentleman. My heart sinks at the coordination the two share. I get upbunqble to witness anymore drama. Just then my phone goes, it's Zayn.

I pick up walking towards the empty lounge.

"Hey Zayni. How are you doing?"

"Stop the acting already Hooriya. News has already reached Saleem uncle. What did you think if you wouldn't say, he will not know it? He is the Sarpanch for God's sake."

I sigh, trying to find the right words. "Look, Zayn. I can't say I am happy with the turn of events. But it is what it is. This is my own battle to fight. And why is Abba angry anyway. Wasn't it his own genius idea to give his daughter to the Vijayapetis to settle the matter. He just needs to stay out of it now."

"Hoorie. He is worried. What else do you expect of a worried father trying to reassure himself he has done the right thing. He was furious when he found out. He wanted to destroy Asad for this. But then Sarpanch Raheem spoke to this morning, something about his words has calmed him down. But he is still angry."

"Don't worry Zayn, I will talk to him. Now leave all that, tell me how is your life going?"

"It's boring to say the least. I miss you Hoorie. So much, I miss our conversations, our late night escapades, our light hearted banters, I miss us."

"I miss you too Zayni. So much. I miss my old life. No stress, no responsibility, no husband."

" Then come back to us Hoorie. Your old life. We will resume the fun again."

"I will, Zayn. I will come back soon. Forever, this time."

"Great. I will wait for you. Don't go too hard on yourself. Always remember your family loves you, I love you."

"I love you too Zayn. Talk to you soon."

As the call disconnects, I find myself pushed back to the wall. I gasp as I feel his hands on my waist tighten. I look up to see a murderous expression in his eyes. He looks scary, I almost feel like vanishing.

His face comes too close to me, leaving a hairwidth lid distance. My chest heaved up and down against his.

"Who do you think you are confessing your undying love to when your husband is right here", he says with gritting teeth. I try pushing him away but who am I kidding. He didn't even bat an eye at my efforts continuing to send death glares my way.

"Who I confess my love to, is none of your business. Go back to your fiance", I bark spitting the word fiancé like its a deadly disease. He smirks,

"Why? Is my little wife getting jealous?"

I scoff, "In your dreams. She can have you for all I care. You were never mine for me to be jea-....ummm"

My lips are sealed with his before I even complete my words. He takes me in a punishing kiss, his hold tender against the rough movement if his lips, it turns me on like never before. Allah, what has this man done to me. I resist initially but we both know it won't last long. I finally give in, taking all his anger and frustration in. I cup his neck, rubbing my thumb across his pulse and he groans. We break apart when we are breathless.

"Chodein. Aapko kya farak padta hai main kisko pasand karti hun." I get out amidst the panting.

" Main chahe dusri shadi karun ya satvi. Tum sirf meri ho Hoor. Sirf meri. Ye baat bhulne ki khata na karna. Warna agli baar main itne pyaar se saza nai dunga." His dominating voice is enough to take my breath away. I look deep into his eyes, they hold nothing but sincerity which means he meant every single word he just said. I want to protest, if I am just his then he is supposed to be mine too.

I want to punish him too, for what he did today. But I hold back. It is all going to end anyway Hooriya. Don't sweat over it.

When he leaves me, my body feels cold. I am tempted to whimper and force him to wrap his hands around me, to ask him to hold me as I cry. But I don't, standing and doing nothing as I helplessly watch him retreat far from me, every step that he takes away from me is a punch to my gut.

'Main maanun ya na maanun, lekin maine aapko apna dil usi waqt dediya tha jis din hamari shaadi ki tasveer pehli baar dekhi thi. Sirf aapko Asad.'