1. Breaking her heart

'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."

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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.

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