Third person's POV.

"Shams," a voice called out.
He turned to see Maa g enter his room, flanked by his sisters. His two Bhabhi Jaan followed, and then Choti Maa stepped in, quietly closing the door behind them.

He stared in shock. It was nearly midnight, and usually by this hour, the entire family would be deep in sleep. But tonight, all the women of the house were standing together in his room.

"You all? Together?" he asked, confused. They smiled softly in response.

His maa g walked over and gently cupped his face.
"Going without telling your mother?" she said, her touch tender.

Shams smiled and clasped her hand in his own. He looked around at all the teary-eyed faces, his heart swelling.

He made Maa g sit on the bed and knelt on the floor before her.
"How could I leave without telling you? But... do you think I'm doing the right thing?" he asked, still holding her hands.

"I know life is surprising you, son," Maa g said, her voice heavy with emotion, "but it's teaching you how to live. What you are doing is right. Here, in this hell, no one can truly live. We want to see you happy, Shams. We all do. That's why we are here—to tell you that we are with you."

Tears welled in his eyes as he kissed her hands.
"Thank you, Maa g."

"Bhai," Anushey, his sister, spoke up, handing him a small wooden box.
"This is for Bhabhi."

Shams took the box and pulled Anushey into a hug, caressing her hair affectionately.

"We all have something for our Bhabhi," Faryal added, stepping forward with a shy smile.

Choti Maa passed a large box to Maa g, who opened it carefully. Inside lay a bridal dress—a deep, rich shade of red, adorned with intricate embroidery.

"This is for my daughter-in-law," Maa g said, lifting the dress carefully.

Shams stood up abruptly.
"Maa g... I can’t take this."

"This isn’t for you, son," she said warmly, "It’s for my daughter-in-law."

The girls giggled softly as Shams scratched his neck, smiling sheepishly.

"Shams," Maa g continued, "whenever you two start your new life, I want you to give her all of this. Take it with you—our love and blessings."

Along with the dress, there was jewelry—necklaces, earrings, bangles, rings.

"Maa g, I'll take the dress... but not the jewelry," he said firmly, his eyes on the glimmering gold.

"But son..." she began.

"No, Maa g, please understand. I don't want Baba Saiyen to think that I'm using his money or resources. I don't want any misconceptions. Please..." he said sincerely.

Maa g sighed and nodded.

"Alright. But you must take at least one piece," Choti Maa insisted.

Shams smiled and agreed. After browsing through the jewelry, he picked a simple gold ring.
"I’ll take this—and nothing more," he said, making them all laugh softly.

"Bhai, we also have these small gifts for Bhabhi," Faryal and the Bhabhis came forward with more items.

"You all are crazy!" Shams chuckled. "I’m trying to escape, not move house! How am I supposed to carry all this when I’ll already be carrying... maybe even carrying her?"

"Don’t call our Bhabhi a thing to carry!" Zarnish scolded playfully.

"Fine, fine. I’ll only take whatever fits in this one bag!" he declared.

The women quickly began packing, filling the bag to bursting.
"See? Done!" they said proudly.

Shams hugged them all tightly.
"I’m going to miss you all."

"And we’ll miss you," Maa g whispered, wiping her tears.

---

Morning arrived too soon.
Shams and Zohaib Bhai Jaan waited anxiously for Baba Saiyen and the chachas to leave for the village council meeting.

Finally, they departed, but Shams’ nerves didn’t settle. Zulfiqar Bhai was still at home.

"You ready, Chote?" Zohaib Bhai Jaan entered the room.

"I’m ready... but what about Zulfiqar Bhai?" Shams asked.

"He’ll leave for the fields around 11 a.m. Just stay ready. Remember—we’ll have only fifteen minutes once we get to Wafa’s house. Jabar Uncle’s guards could show up anytime. And don’t forget about our ‘tiger’—Zulfiqar," Zohaib added with a chuckle.

Shams laughed nervously.

Time ticked away painfully slow. At 11:30, Zulfiqar Bhai was still at home, shuffling papers.
Finally, Zulfiqar stood and called out,
"I’m heading to the fields. Check the accounts while I’m gone."

As soon as he left, Shams rushed to grab his packed bag. When he came down into the hall, the entire family was there, waiting, eyes filled with tears.

He hugged each one tightly, saving Maa g for last.
"It's not easy leaving your mother behind," he whispered into her hair.

"I never imagined seeing you leave like this," Maa g wept.

"Neither did I," he replied, wiping her tears.

"Chote, hurry!" Zohaib Bhai Jaan called from outside.

Shams gave one last glance back before stepping out into the unknown.

They drove silently toward Jabar Villa. Shams gazed out of the window, hiding his tears. It broke his heart to leave, but he carried a stubborn hope:
One day, he would return—with Wafa—and Baba Saiyen would welcome them both home.

"Chote, we’re almost there. Be quick," Zohaib urged.

Shams nodded.

The car pulled up outside the towering gates of Jabar Villa. Shams took a deep breath and stepped out.

Allah, help me.

They approached the gate and knocked. A guard opened it.

"Yes?" he demanded.

"I want to meet Badi Begum," Shams said.

"Are you the son of Bakht Shah?"
At Shams’ nod, the guard growled, "You’re not allowed in. Leave now!"

Before the man could slam the gate, Shams shoved it open and stepped inside.

More guards rushed toward them. Shams exchanged a look with Zohaib Bhai Jaan and sighed.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," he muttered. Zohaib laughed, and together, they braced for a fight.

For the first time in his life, Shams threw punches.
Great. I’ve never even killed a bee, and now here I am, punching men.

"Don't let them inside!" a guard shouted.

"Shams, go! I’ll handle them!" Zohaib shouted.

Shams nodded and sprinted toward the villa's grand hall.

"Wafa!" he yelled, eyes scanning the space.

"Wafa!" he called again, desperate.

A woman in her fifties appeared at the top of the staircase.
"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Guards!" she called out.

"I’m sorry, aunty. I didn’t mean to break in. I’m here to take my wife," Shams said quickly.

"Wife? Shams?" she repeated in shock.

"I’m Wafa’s husband," he confirmed.
"I’m her mother," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"Aunty, please help us! Your husband and my Baba are forcing this divorce. But I won't leave your daughter alone. I won't give up on this marriage blessed by Allah. Please, let her come with me!" he pleaded.

Wafa’s mother sobbed.
"What will happen to my daughter?" she whispered brokenly.

More women and young girls entered the hall. Shams scanned their faces frantically.

"Wafa?" he asked, but they shook their heads.

"Please, aunty! We don’t have much time. I'm leaving my family behind for her. I swear, I’ll never let her regret it. Please..." he begged.

The older woman hesitated, battling with her emotions.

"Let her go, Badi Maa," one of the girls said.
The others nodded in agreement.

Wafa’s mother finally nodded.
"Call her," she said quietly, looking at Shams.
"The decision will be hers."

Relieved, Shams called out again, louder, more desperate:
"Wafa!"

A soft jingle of bangles pulled my gaze upward — and there she was, descending the stairs in a simple yet stunning shocking pink dress.
The moment my eyes found her face, the world around me faded; I forgot how to blink, how to breathe. She was the picture of delicate beauty, fragile and ethereal, as if a single touch could shatter her.
Halfway down the stairs, she stopped.
Her wide, astonished eyes locked onto mine, and in that heartbeat, her dupatta slipped from her head, cascading softly onto her shoulders like a whisper of fate.

"Wafa, this is Shams," her mother said gently, and I watched as her eyes widened further, her breath catching just like mine.

*****************

Wafa lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was noon, and yet she felt utterly alone. Her mind was consumed by thoughts of him, his words echoing in her ears.
For the first time in her life, she had disobeyed her father — all because of him.

Her fingers played restlessly with the gold chain she wore around her neck.

"Wafa," a voice called out.

She paused, trying to recognize the voice, but dismissed it as her imagination. A few moments later, she heard it again — louder, clearer.

"Wafa!"

Startled, she climbed off the bed, threw a dupatta over her head, and ran out barefoot.
Her heart raced wildly at the urgency in the call.

Who could be calling her like this?

She reached the staircase and froze midway when her eyes fell on a young man standing in the hall below.

"Wafa, this is Shams," Ama G said gently, and Wafa’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He’s here! In front of me!

There he stood — the man whose face had unknowingly filled her dreams. Dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, with his sleeves rolled up over strong forearms, Shams looked even more handsome than she had imagined.

"Wafa, come down," Ama G urged.

Wafa slowly descended the stairs, her eyes lowered shyly. She adjusted her dupatta nervously, feeling the weight of his gaze on her every step.

"Shams wants to ask you something," Ama G continued, and Wafa looked up, meeting his hopeful eyes.

"Main aapko lene aya hoon (I have come to take you)," he said simply, and her heart skipped a beat.

Wafa turned toward Ama G, Chachi, and Phupho — all of whom nodded their silent support.

"He's here to take you with him, Wafa. But the decision is yours. Either go with your husband or continue this cycle of revenge," Ama G said softly.

Wafa’s gaze returned to Shams, seeing the hope burning in his eyes.

But what about Baba Jaani?
How could she leave him, betray him?
Yet, how could she break the heart of the man standing before her, willing to defy the world for her?

"I know it’s difficult," Shams said, sensing her hesitation.
"But our fathers won't let this marriage survive. They’re determined to see us divorced.
If we don't take a stand today, they will force us apart.
This marriage is not a joke for me, but for my father, it’s just another game.
I won’t let him win. I won't let him destroy us."

Then, he extended his hand toward her.

"If you don't want this divorce, then come with me. I'm here to take you. Will you?"

Wafa stared at his hand, trembling with indecision.

Confusion and fear battled inside her.
Should she take his hand and run?
What about Baba Jaani’s honor and reputation?

But looking at Shams, at the courage and sincerity shining in his eyes, she knew her answer.

Oh Allah, guide me...

Closing her eyes, she gathered her strength.
And then she nodded.

She could not let him down.
She would not leave him alone to fight this battle.

Opening her eyes, she saw Shams still standing there, patiently waiting.
Taking a deep breath, Wafa reached out and placed her hand in his.

A radiant smile lit up Shams’ face — the most beautiful smile Wafa had ever seen.

"Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this," he whispered, squeezing her hand gently, reassuringly.

Suddenly, Rakshanda came rushing in, her face pale with fear.
"Taayi Maa, Dado has called Taaya G. She told him Shams Bhai is here to take Wafa!"

Panic flared across the room.

"Son, you must leave quickly. They’ll be coming," Ama G said urgently to Shams.

Shams nodded firmly. He turned to Wafa, who quickly hugged Ama G tightly, seeking comfort and strength.
Ama G wrapped her in a warm embrace, murmuring blessings under her breath.
One by one, Wafa’s sisters hugged her tightly, tears in their eyes.
She hugged her Chachi, too, her heart breaking at the hurried goodbyes.

"Hurry now," Ama G urged.

Wafa turned to look at them all one last time — her family, her home — the world she was about to leave behind.

"Shall we?" Shams said, extending his hand once more.

Without hesitation this time, Wafa placed her hand firmly in his.

"May Allah bless you both," Ama G called after them, her voice thick with emotion.

Hand in hand, Wafa and Shams ran out of the house, hearts pounding, stepping into an uncertain but hopeful future.

Wafa glanced back one last time at the home she was leaving.
She had never imagined her Rukhsati would happen like this.
But then again, nothing mattered more than the man who was taking her away — with love, not force — leading her into a life free from fear.

A/N::Assalam-o-alikum readers.

Thank you so much for reading this chapter!
Your support means more to me than words can express.
I poured my heart into Bound by Honor, and I’m so excited to share this journey with all of you.
If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment — even a few words can truly motivate me to keep writing and updating faster!
I'd love to hear what you think about the story so far.
Until next time, stay safe and stay magical!
Much love.

Keep reading...
Keep smiling...