'What? Never.' Yusuf refused immediately.

' Do you even know what you are saying, Mom?' You are asking me to marry someone I barely know. Also, I am just 18. This is not the age for my marriage. Come on.'

'But, Hadi. Look at this situation. That girl has become an orphan. All her relatives have left her. She is the only daughter of my late friend. At this time, I can't leave her alone, my child. Understand my situation. If you marry her, then I can take her with me to the USA. Otherwise, in what relationship can I take her with me? Although all of her relatives have left her, they have their eyes fixed on her wealth. I have convinced her greedy uncle with difficulty, my son. Please don't increase my difficulties. Besides, she is such a cute and innocent girl. I am sure in the future you will cherish my decision.'

Rumaisa had come to Bangladesh for just 3 months to enjoy a nice vacation with her husband and son. During these holiday days, when she visited her village, she also met her childhood friend Rahela and Rahela's 15-year-old innocent daughter. Rahela's husband passed away due to an accident several years ago. Seeing Rahela, Rumaisa felt a mix of sorrow and surprise. They were almost the same age, but poverty and loneliness seemed to have aged Rahela prematurely. However, when Rumaisa saw Rahela's daughter, Masooma, she felt an instant affection for her. Masooma was truly as innocent as her name. She was as beautiful as her mother and had a different way of speaking compared to the other girls in the village. This was because of her mother, who had come from the city and was educated. Rumaisa had always wished for a daughter. However, Allah had not destined that happiness for her. But now, seeing Masooma, Rumaisa truly feels the desire for a daughter. Meeting Rahela again brought great happiness to Rumaisa. She promised Rahela that they would meet again and showered Masooma with love before leaving, unaware that it would be the last time she saw her friend. Rahela's deceased husband's brother had been pressuring her to sell a piece of land they owned for a while. But when Rahela resisted, they resorted to threats. All these threats were aimed at Masooma.

It was a turmoil that Rahela bore silently, but even the strongest among us can only endure so much. Despite enduring so much stress and threats, Rahela couldn't tolerate it anymore and left the world, entrusting her daughter to Allah's care.

News of Rahela's passing reached Rumaisa much later, while she was staying at a relative's house in Dhaka. Upon her return to the village, she was met with the shocking reality of her friend's demise. The weight of the news left her in a state of disbelief and grief, her emotions in a state of turmoil. However, as reality settled in, her focus shifted to Rahela's daughter, Masooma, a name that resonated with innocence. She reached the village and set her eyes on Masooma. Another shock awaited her. There, preparations were underway for Masooma's wedding—to a man of 35 who had already driven his first wife to the point of death. Rumaisa couldn't fathom tolerating such a situation. She promptly called the police to halt the wedding since Masooma was underage. She had already made up her mind to take Masooma with her to the USA. She knew that, without legal ties, she couldn't achieve this goal. Thus, she wished for a union between Hadi and Masooma, envisioning a pathway that would allow her to bring Masooma along. This decision found unwavering support from Rafik as well. That's why she was now trying to convince her son, at least for the Nikah.

'Mom, I am sorry. I am not a kind soul like you. I can't marry someone just out of sympathy. Most importantly, I can't marry a child.' Hadiuzzaman Yusuf declared his decision at once. He picked up his phone, walked to Rumaisa, placed a kiss on her forehead, and left. Today he had plans to visit Jaflong with his cousins.

Hadi is the only son, along with Rumaisa Ali and Rafiquzzaman Yusuf. Also, being the smallest child in the entire family, he held the exclusive right to a mountain of affection. As a result, he had been spoiled and rotten since childhood. His parents gave him everything he wanted, and he never had to work for anything. This made him extremely selfish, curt, and arrogant. He barely acknowledged anyone beyond himself.

Seeing Rumaisa lost in thought, Rafik approached her quietly and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "What are you contemplating now?" he asked gently. Rumaisa smiled and replied, "I'm planning to convince your son."

"Will he agree?" Rafik inquired further.

"Not only will he consent, but his father will also consent," Rumaisa responded with unwavering confidence. Rafik spoke with affection: "Love, his father has always been willing to listen to you. It's just your son who's stubborn."

Rumaisa smiled mischievously. "If you can't get what you want with honey, you have to use vinegar."

-----------

When Hadi returned home after a great outing, he was feeling quite refreshed. It had been three days since he had come back home, and on this particular day, he found his house to be a place of intrigue. His mother, Rumaisa, was lying down, weak, and ill. Hadi had learned from his father that she hadn't eaten anything since his departure. Filled with worry, Hadi approached his mother, and his heart ached at the sight of her fragile state. Despite his arrogant, rude, and spoilt brat demeanor in the world, he had a deep affection for his parents.

"Mama? What is this childishness?" Hadi asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Rumaisa, her face pale and drawn, placed her hand over her eyes, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill over. She had been dreading this conversation, but she knew she couldn't put it off any longer.

Even after hearing Hadi's voice, she pretended not to notice, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Mama, please?" Hadi persisted, his voice soft and pleading.

"What 'please'? Haven't I already told you to marry that girl? She's in trouble. Can't you do this one thing for me? Can't you?" Rumaisa said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Mama, you are asking me to get married. Is this some sort of doll's play?" Hadi asked, his voice laced with frustration and confusion.

"Hadi, listen," Rumaisa said, her voice firming up. "I'm only asking you to get married. If, in the future, you find her unworthy of being your life partner, you can divorce her. But for now, I need a relationship to take her with me. I have nothing to hold on to, by which I can take Masooma from her greedy uncle."

Hadi's eyes widened in surprise. He had never considered marriage before, and the idea of entering into such a serious commitment so suddenly was overwhelming.

"Mama," he began, his voice hesitant, "I don't even know her. How can I marry someone I've never met?"

Rumaisa sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. "I know it's a lot to ask, Hadi," she said, her voice filled with sadness, "but I'm begging you. Masooma is a good girl. She's kind, intelligent, and beautiful. She deserves a better life than the one she's living now."

Then came the moment when Hadi had to bow down to his mother's persistence. He got married, but the very next day, without informing anyone, he left for the USA. Rumaisa was saddened by Hadi's abrupt departure, but she found solace in the fact that she had brought Masooma with her to Dhaka after the wedding.

Since Rafik had already returned home after the vacation, Rumaisa decided to stay back for a few more days. It took around 7-8 months for Masooma's visa to be approved. During this time, she entrusted Masooma's care to a relative in Dhaka named Sabiha. A divorcee who had chosen not to remarry after her first marriage ended, Sabiha was delighted to take Masooma under her wing and care for her attentively.

Eight months later, when Masooma's visa was processed, Rumaisa brought her to the USA. As Sabiha bid farewell to Masooma at the airport, the girl wept uncontrollably, her heart aching with the realization of another separation from her mother. At that moment, Rumaisa found herself deeply attached to Masooma. Watching Masooma wipe her nose with the corner of her hijab, Rumaisa couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. She smiled at her and placed a kiss on her forehead.

As Masooma finally returned home alongside Rumaisa and Rafik, her gaze swept the house, her heart filled with a peculiar blend of emotions. The unfamiliar surroundings evoked a sense of nervousness, but there was also an inexplicable excitement bubbling within her. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about Hadi, the man who had saved her from her uncle's clutches and had married her at his mother's insistence.

When she learned that Hadi was pursuing his education in a different state, a wave of melancholy washed over her. His absence left a void in her heart. Rumaisa, sensing her daughter-in-law's sadness, continued to talk about Hadi, painting a picture of him as her knight in shining armor. Masooma listened intently, her heart yearning to hear more about the man who had become her husband.

As the days turned into weeks, Masooma impatiently awaited Hadi's arrival. She eagerly anticipated the moment when she would finally meet him, the man who had unknowingly captured her heart. Rumaisa, meanwhile, undertook a deep cleaning of the house, preparing for her son's return. Masooma joined in to help, but her anticipation reached its peak when Rumaisa cleaned Hadi's room. Whenever Masooma entered his room, her heart swelled with joy. She imagined Hadi in his room, studying, sleeping, or simply relaxing. She longed to know more about his life, his dreams, and his aspirations.

The days leading up to Hadi's arrival were a blur of anticipation and excitement for Masooma. She spent countless hours daydreaming about their first meeting, wondering how he would react to her. Would he recognize her? Would he be as handsome as Rumaisa had described him? Her heart pounded in her chest as she imagined their eyes meeting and the spark of connection igniting between them.

She meticulously cleaned every nook and cranny of his room, washed his clothes with extra care, and even ironed them with precision. Sometimes, she would gently open his perfume bottle and let its fragrance envelop her, allowing herself to imagine him standing beside her. Or she'd try to catch a whiff of his scent that lingered on his clothes, cherishing the lingering connection. In the quiet of the night, she would secretly press his shirt against her chest, the fabric soft against her skin, holding it close as she drifted off to sleep.

Rumaisa wasn't oblivious to Masooma's actions. In fact, she encouraged them, understanding the young girl's unspoken feelings. She saw the longing in Masooma's eyes, the way her gaze lingered on Hadi's belongings, and the way she seemed to cherish every moment in his room. She knew that Masooma's heart held a deep affection for Hadi, evident in her every gesture.

Gradually, Masooma settled into her new life in the USA. She enrolled in a local college, diligently pursuing her education while fervently waiting for Hadi's return during vacations. However, Hadi rarely visited home during holidays. He often traveled to different countries with his friends, immersing himself in new cultures and experiences.

As time passed, Masooma's feelings for Hadi deepened. She carried his image in her heart, his face etched in her mind.

The wait for Masooma finally came to an end. With a few days left before Hadi's vacation ended, he decided to pay a surprise visit to his home in the USA after touring London. He had been distant from his parents for a while due to his busy schedule, but now he felt the longing to see them again.

He made up his mind to surprise his parents without revealing his plans to anyone. As he pulled up to the familiar house, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He had spent many happy years here, and he couldn't wait to see his parents again.

When the doorbell rang, Masooma hurried to open it. At that moment, she was expecting her father, Rafik, to return home. She often opened the door to welcome him, and he always handed her a bunch of chocolates. Masooma had become familiar with Rafik and Rumaisa, and she had brought joy and laughter into their lives.

As she opened the door, she froze in her tracks. Before she stood the prince of her dreams, tall, handsome, and with a kind smile. For a moment, it felt unreal; then her heart started pounding with excitement. Her eyes lowered with shyness, and in that unfamiliar moment, Hadi cast a glance her way before entering the house. Rumaisa had already told him that she had brought Masooma to the USA with her, and Hadi seemed unaffected by this revelation. Both Rumaisa and Rafik were overjoyed to see Hadi, and they welcomed him with open arms. That day, they talked late into the night, catching up on all that had happened in their lives. Rumaisa had prepared Hadi's favorite meal with her own hands, and they all enjoyed a delicious dinner together.

Due to shyness and the desire not to disturb Hadi's family reunion, Masooma rarely appeared in front of him. Days went by, and Hadi seemingly ignored Masooma as if she didn't exist. Even though it didn't bother Masooma, who considered it to be a part of Hadi's personality, Rumaisa had noticed this behavior. She decided to address the situation and speak to Hadi.

When she went to his room, he was busy doing something on the laptop.

"So, what have you thought about Masooma, Hadi?" Rumaisa asked, her voice laced with concern.

"What's there to think about her?" Hadi replied, his eyes still fixed on his laptop screen, his tone dismissive.

Rumaisa's heart sank. She had hoped that Hadi would show some interest in Masooma, but his indifference was disheartening. "What do you mean? She is your wife," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Take her out; spend time with her. Get to know her better."

Hadi chuckled, a forced sound that echoed in the silence of the room. Taking a sip from his juice bottle, he said, "Mama, what misunderstanding are you in? Wife? Understanding? I only married her for you to bring her to the USA. I've already planned to divorce her after a few days. Then you can arrange her marriage with someone else."

Rumaisa's eyes widened in disbelief. "What are you saying, Hadi?" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

"You said it yourself, mama," Hadi replied, his tone casual and devoid of any remorse. "If I don't like her, I can divorce her."

"Yes, I said that," Rumaisa admitted, her voice catching in her throat. "But what about her? Didn't you like her?"

Hadi scoffed. "What's there to like about her?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain. "There is no sense of dressing, no manners, no way of speaking. Even her appearance isn't pleasing. What can I possibly like about her?"

Rumaisa's heart ached for Masooma. She knew that her daughter-in-law was far from perfect, but she didn't deserve to be treated with such disrespect. "I want a beautiful and sophisticated girl, not someone like her," Hadi continued, his voice rising in frustration. "I wouldn't even make her my wife if I were dying. If you want, I can divorce her right now."

And with his words, the sound of glass shattering filled the atmosphere. Rumaisa, shocked by her son's words, looked towards the door as she heard the sound. Masooma stood there, her face pale and her eyes filled with tears. Someone had clenched her heart into a fist. Masooma, who had come to give Hadi the glass of milk as Rumaisa had instructed, heard his words. She felt like she was melting away upon hearing them. And when she heard the word "divorce," she involuntarily dropped the glass she was holding, and it shattered on the ground, maybe mirroring her being. She silently started picking up the shattered glass. Rumaisa, who had been listening to her son's words, went to her and tried to stop her from cleaning it. She didn't want her dear daughter's hands to get hurt by the glass. But Masooma didn't listen and continued to clean the glass. She continued as if she were collecting the shattered pieces of herself. Both Rumaisa and Masooma had their eyes fixed on the ground. Both were avoiding each other's gaze. Both had tears in their eyes.

Hadi, being careless, locked the door. In the later days, Rumaisa didn't talk to him, and Masooma became quiet. Rafik sensed the tension, but there was nothing he could do.

Hadi left, and with the passing days, everything became fine. Years passed.

-----------

Rumaisa used to video chat with Hadi every night. There was not very much time left for Hadi's graduation.

That evening, Hadi was having a conversation with Rumaisa. He was telling her about his return. When he heard a voice saying, "Mama, can I go now?" Rumaisa turned her phone towards Masooma unconsciously, and Hadi's gaze followed where Masooma was standing. She was wearing a yellow-colored salwar suit adorned with artificial flower earrings, a floral crown on her head, pink lip gloss on her lips, and light makeup enhancing her pure face. She had a chiffon dupatta draped over her shoulders and a faint smile on her lips. She looked incredibly beautiful, and Hadi was taken aback by her appearance.

"Yes, dear. Take care. " Masooma nodded her head, saying "Allah hafiz," and left. Rumaisa turned her attention back to Hadi and asked, "Sorry, son, what were you saying?"Hadi struggled to find the right words to respond. Masooma had left, but her presence seemed to have stirred up a whirlwind of emotions in his heart.

Hadi didn't pay much attention to that incident that day. He thought it was just a minor attraction that he felt upon seeing a beautiful girl. However, he was greatly surprised by Masooma's transformation.

Hadi had completed his graduation, and now he was planning to surprise his mother by coming back home. He knew there was an extra key placed in the flowerpot by the front door. He took the key and entered the house. At this time, Rafik was at the office, and Masooma was at college. He trod softly towards the interior of the house. The sound from the kitchen drew him in that direction. However, upon reaching there, he was taken aback once again.

---------- 

As the world outside was enveloped in a veil of gentle rain, Masooma, blessed with a day off from her college studies, found herself drawn to the soothing rhythm of nature's symphony. The cool breezes, carrying the scent of petrichor, danced through her open window, creating an ambiance of tranquility and serenity.

Leaving her assignment aside, she had gone to the kitchen. Rumaisa was at her friend's house, so Masooma decided to make crispy fritters and two special cups of tea before her mother returned. It felt like Masooma had found a new motherly figure in Rumaisa's form. To her, Rumaisa was everything—mother, father, friend, sister. Rafik also showered her with immense love. Tying her long chiffon scarf around her waist, she began preparing the fritters, humming a tune from her heart. While mixing the batter with the vegetables, her hair swayed gently with each movement.

Suddenly, Masooma sensed that someone was staring at her. She turned around, first feeling a bit startled, then surprised. Both of them locked eyes for a moment.

It had been three years since Hadi had seen Masooma in person. He remembered the day when she had listened to him talking to his mother, and he had been happy. He didn't want any misconceptions to fester in her heart.

After that day, Masooma rarely showed up in front of him. Now, three years later, he was seeing her again, and he couldn't look away. She was not the same girl he had married for his mother's sake and later decided to divorce. She was someone else entirely. When he saw Masooma, it felt as if the princess of his dreams had stepped out of his fantasies and materialized before him.

Seeing Hadi staring at her, Masooma averted her gaze at first, then turned back to her work. "Mama isn't at home right now. She went to her friend's place," she informed while getting back to her tasks. Hadi's stern expression softened, and a sudden smile broke out on his lips. He suddenly remembered that this girl was his wife. He took a step towards her, his heart filled with an indescribable emotion.

His steps seemed to guide him on their own, bringing him closer to her. He reached Masooma and paused, a smile forming on his lips as he gretted, "Assalamualaikum."

"Walaikumus as-salam," she responded with reluctance. She didn't even bother to look at her. She continued with her work; her hands paused for a brief moment as Hadi approached.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine."

Hadi continued the conversation, "How's your study going?"

"Good!" she replied.

"Aren't you going to college today?" Hadi asked. 

"It's a day off," she answered.

Hadi realized that Masooma didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even look at him for once.

His handsome and charming face, captivating personality, and remarkable achievements had always garnered him attention from everyone, and he had never encountered anyone reacting to him in such a manner before. Already, he was spoiled with extreme love and attention. But all of this made him even more rude and selfish. Little did he realize that, not too long ago, he himself had been oblivious to her presence. Perhaps today was the first time in his life that he was conversing with him.

However, her ignoring his presence like this was something he found quite unsettling. The smile faded from his lips, and his brows arched. He started to look at her more intently, trying to figure out if she was ignoring him or not.

As he scrutinized her face, he realized her face exuded innocence and purity.

Just as he was lost in his thoughts, Rumaisa's voice brought him back to the present.

"Haaddi!" Rumasia exclaimed. Since she couldn't believe that finaly, she was seeing her son in front of her own eyes.

Overwhelmed by a surge of joy, Rumaisa could barely contain her happiness. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she extended her arms towards Hadi, her heart brimming with affection. Hadi, his gaze lingering on Masooma for a moment, reciprocated his mother's embrace, the warmth of their reunion spreading through him like a comforting wave.

-------------

Hadi had secured a prestigious job at a prominent software company even before completing his graduation. His career was flourishing, and he faced no concerns in that aspect. Around this time, he had also come to realize that he was genuinely becoming attracted to Masooma. Her dressing, mannerisms, and speech all seemed to align with his ideal. Despite wearing traditional attire like a salwar suit, she appeared remarkably beautiful and appealing. What struck him even more was her impeccable character. He was the only man who had ever entered her life, and he had willingly embraced this commitment. His mother had never allowed any other man to cast even a glance her way. He, too, had never been involved in any kind of relationship. Although his handsome looks attracted many girls, they often ended up disappointed. He believed that all of this would hinder his career, and thanks to Rumaisa's upbringing, he was cautious around girls. He firmly believed that premarital relationships were wrong and disapproved of casual interactions with girls.

One evening, he decided to take Masooma for an outing. He went to her room, and without knocking on the door, he entered directly.

The walls were painted with soft lavender, and the bed was dressed in a luxurious white duvet and pillows. Soft pink big plush in front of the bed. The windows were closed and covered with long curtains. A dressing table with a large mirror sits in one corner of the room. On it, all sorts of makeup accessories were organized neatly. In front of it was an off-white buckle dressing table chair. An entire wall is filled with bookshelves, mostly filled with novels. Rumaisa loved to read novels, and she made sure that Masooma loved reading novels.

Masooma, who was studying, got shocked to see him suddenly enter. She thought Rumaisa had come. However, a frown appeared on her forehead.

'Nice room.' Hadi commented after looking around her room. Then he fixed his eyes on her. Her long hair was braided. She was wearing loose long kameez with loose pajamas.

Her scarf was lying on the bed. Masooma at first grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around herself.

She looked at Hadi. Her eyes were laced with surprise and indignation.

'What are you doing in my room?' she demanded.

Hadi, caught off guard by her outburst,was at a loss for words at first, but he quickly maintained his composure. He said confidently, casually shoving his hands inside his pants,My mistake. I was just looking for you.'

'Well, you could have knocked.' Masooma snapped. She'd crossed her hands tightly on her chest, and her eyes narrowed. 'Don't you know it's rude to just barge into someone's room without permission? Don't you have any manners?

Hadi was stunned to see the Masooma standing before him, radiating an aura of self-assurance that he had never witnessed before. He couldn't believe how much she had transformed over the years. The timid girl who would barely utter a word in his presence had blossomed into a woman who didn't hesitate to assert herself. He was happy to see such changes in her. Once again, he was proud of his choice. He was glad that, even this time, he chose what was better.

'I'm sorry.' he said, flashing his charming smile. Masooma, unfazed by his apology, bluntly asked,What do you want?'

Hadi, undeterred by her curt tone, plopped down on the edge of the bed and said, ' Let's go for an outing.'His tone was more commanding than inviting.

Masooma looked at him with confused eyes. 'An outing?' she echoed. Her brows furrowed. 'Why?'

Hadi shrugged as if it were an obvious suggestion, completely oblivious to Masooma's apprehension.

'Why not? It's a nice day, and we could use a break from routine.'

Masooma remained silent.

'What happened? What are you waiting for? Hurry up. Get ready.'

Masooma's face hardened. 'Look, I don't want to go anywhere with you. You can go now.' Masooma answered. Her voice was firm and unwavering. She got back to what she was doing before.

Masooma's abrupt refusal and dismissive tone stung Hadi's pride, igniting a spark of anger within him. He strode towards her, his movements fueled by his frustration. Without a word of warning, he seized her arms, pulling her to her feet. Hadi's sudden change in demeanor caught Masooma off guard. His harsh tone and imposing presence sent a jolt of fear through her veins. Her eyes widened in alarm as he grabbed her arm, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. 'Who do you think you're talking to? 'he inquired. His eyes narrowed.

Masooma's breath caught in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Hadi could see the terror in her eyes. He didn't mean to scare her, but his ego was hurt by her reckless behavior. Noticing her distress, he loosened his grip, but his voice remained cold and commanding. "There's nothing to cry for," he snapped, not wanting to admit his mistake. 'Why are you crying?'Masooma remained silent, tears streaming down her face. No one had ever talked to her like this. No one. But he dared to do so. Hadi's impatience grew. 'Come on,' he ordered, his voice laced with authority. 'Get ready now.' He didn't want to ruin his mood. To his surprise, Masooma didn't reply to him. Rather, she bolted out of her room.

--------

Hadi found himself sitting in front of his parents, facing their stern gazes and simmering anger. His mother, Rumaisa, spoke first, her voice laced with disappointment."Why are you acting like you haven't done anything wrong, Hadi Yusuf?" she asked, her eyes flashing with disapproval. "You caused your wife pain, and you have no excuse for your behavior."

Hadi's father, Rafiquzzman, nodded in agreement, his expression grim. "Your actions were unacceptable, Hadi," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Hadi felt a surge of defensiveness rise within him. "I didn't mean to hurt her," he protested, yet his demeanor was calm. "It was an impulsive reaction on my part. But you should have seen how she treated me." Rumaisa raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "How did she treat you, Hadi Yusuf?" she challenged. "Explain yourself."

Hadi hesitated for a moment, trying to frame his words carefully. "I simply asked her to get ready for an outing," he explained. "But she dismissed my request in such a disrespectful manner that it provoked me."

Rumaisa's eyes narrowed, her anger intensifying. "First of all, who gave you the right to take her out?" she demanded. Hadi looked at his mother, his pride wounded. "She's my wife," he retorted, his voice laced with defiance. "I don't need anyone's permission to take my wife out." He was extremely irritated at Masooma's irrational behavior.

Rumaisa's face contorted in disbelief.

"Wife?" she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What are you talking about, Hadi Yusuf? You made it very clear before you left that you had no intention of staying married to Masooma. You even said you would divorce her."

"That was then," he replied."Things have changed."

Rumaisa shook her head in exasperation. "Hadi," she began, her voice softening slightly, "you can't just change your mind like that. You've already made up your mind, and you've hurt Masooma deeply. She's not going to just forget all that and welcome you back into her life."

"What do you mean?" He retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of frustration and defiance. "I'm everything a girl could want in a husband."

Rumaisa sighed, her gaze unwavering as she met her son's defiant eyes. "Hadi," she began, her voice calm yet firm, "I'm not saying you're not a good man. But you are not the man Masooma wants."

"Why? Does she like someone else?"Hadi asked; the thought of her having a relationship with someone else despite being in marriage boiled him in anger.'Shut up, Hadi. What do you think of Masooma? "

"Then what's her problem?" He was relaxed after hearing his assumptions were wrong.

"Hadi, when you told me that you wanted to divorce her, I didn't let her weave any more dreams of you. I told her what the truth was. I told her that she shouldn't think of you as her husband anymore. She was heartbroken. I have seen how much it destroyed her. At that time, I regretted my choice greatly in getting you two married. She had fallen into severe depression. We even took her to a psychiatrist, but nothing helped. However,with our love and affection, slowly she came back to life. Now, her feelings have changed for you."

"Okay. I'll apologize to her." Hadi said. "I am sure once I apologize, she will forgive me."

Rumaisa sighed in resignation, realizing that her son's arrogance and ego were deeply ingrained. "'Well, son,' she said, her voice laced with disappointment, "you may be willing to accept Masooma back, but she's not willing to accept you. She's already made up her mind to divorce you, and Rafiq and I support her decision."

Hadi's eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropping in disbelief. "What?" he asked as if he heard something wrong. Rumaisa stood up, her gaze unwavering. "We've already made up our minds, Hadi," she said firmly. "The divorce will proceed, and you will accept it."Hadi said nothing. His shoulders slumped. He had never imagined that his parents would take Masooma's side over his. But he had trust in himself that sooner or later Masooma would accept him. After all, how long would she run away from him?

--------------

As Masooma exited college alongside Hania, a Pakistani girl, and Ima, a Bangladeshi, her gaze was drawn towards Hadi, who leaned casually against his car, adorned with sunglasses that day. She couldn't help but notice the magnetic pull he exerted, captivating the attention of numerous girls, including Ima and Hania.

A wave of unease washed over Masooma as she observed the crowd of girls casting admiring glances towards Hadi. She couldn't fathom the reason behind the sudden surge of anger she felt towards him. Amidst the ongoing chatter, Ima and Hania exchanged surprised glances as Masooma abruptly made her way towards Hadi.

Hadi, leaning against his car, removed his sunglasses and turned towards Masooma, whose figure was draped in an abaya, with only her eyes visible through the niqab. A hint of curiosity flickered in his gaze as he awaited her approach.'Mom couldn't come today to pick you up. So, she sent me to pick you up.'

Ima nudged Hania with her elbow, prompting her to look at Hadi. Hania shifted her gaze towards the enigmatic figure beside Masooma and inquired, "Masooma, who is this gentleman? Is he your brother?" Curiosity piqued their interest, as this was their first encounter with Hadi.

'Brother? I'm her husband. Get inside, wifey. We're getting late,' Hadi declared with a smirk, stepping into the car.

'Husband?' Ima echoed, and Hania exclaimed, 'Misi, you're married. Why didn't you tell us before?'

Masooma, caught off guard and growing angry, bid her friends goodbye without offering an explanation and joined Hadi in the car.

As Hadi started driving, Masooma couldn't contain her frustration. 'What was that?' she demanded.

Hadi, playing innocent, replied, 'What?'

'Why did you tell them that I'm your wife?'

'Aren't you my wife?' Hadi retorted, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Masooma remained silent.

'Not for too long,' she replied.

'And what made you think so?'

'You.'

'Haven't you heard I change my mind?'

'May I know why?'

'You want to hear your praises from my mouth?'Hadi smiled.

'No, I want to know what made you change your mind?' Masooma remained unfazed.

'Look, you have transformed well. You possess all the qualities to be my wife.'

'Hadi Yusuf, have you wondered if you possess all the qualities to be my husband? You are irresponsible, arrogant, egotistic, ill-mannered, and somewhat narcissistic,' Masooma said.

Hadi, growing angry, abruptly stopped the car on the side and glared at her. 'Get out,' he barked. They were quite near their home, and he wanted to avoid doing something he might regret if he continued the conversation. Masooma immediately got out of the car. No matter how brave she was, she still felt scared whenever Hadi became angry.

Once again, she hurt his ego. He found himself driving aimlessly, the road a reflection of the confusion in his mind. 'Okay, if she doesn't want to stay with me, it's fine. It's not like she's the last girl on earth,' he reassured himself, but the words felt hollow. Despite the attempt at self-assurance, a nagging feeling persisted, something he couldn't quite comprehend. This wasn't like him; he was grappling with unfamiliar emotions.

Nevertheless, he steered his way back home, determined to convince himself that if she chose not to be a part of this marriage, he, too, was not desperate to cling onto it. His wounded pride drove him to this decision. He couldn't allow anyone to hurt him any further. Somewhere in the echoes of his hurt ego, he pledged to find someone better, as if that would heal the turmoil within.

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