𝐎𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 | #1 in longing love
Waniya Bagga is a remarkable woman single mother, successful fashion designer, and self-made millionaire. She resides in New York City with her daughter, facing the unknown future with strength and resilience.
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Before reading the chapter I want to make sure that "my characters aren't on their religion, if you are looking for a Halal clean romance book, drop this book. I don't include religion while writing fiction." Happy reading!
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ZEESHAN'S POV:
"Arrey maa, nhi karni mujhe shaadi," every day, my Mom would pressure me to settle down and marry a nice, kind-hearted girl. (I don't want to get married Mom.)
The thought of marriage and commitment didn't sit well with me. After all, why should I tie the knot when the person I loved the most left me without a word of explanation?
I hope you are satisfied, Waniya.
"Batis ka hogya hai, ab toh karle shaadi mera bhi dil hai apne pote ya poti ko dekho," Mom whined like a child. (You are 32, just get married. I want to see my children.)
"Okay, for that I can go for adoption," The primary reason I chose to become a teacher is my deep affection for children. I find them absolutely adorable, and I have always envisioned having kids of my own in the future.
However, my circumstances have changed, and I've come to the decision that adoption might be a better fit for me at this point in my life.
"Chachu," Anaya ran towards me. Who says she's Ahaan's daughter? She's her Chachu's little princess. (Uncle.)
"G, Chachu ki princess," I picked her up. (Yes, princess.)
"Dekho, Zoya tumhi apne dewar se kaho ke shaadi karle kitni umar hogai hai," Mom called Zoya Bhabhi. (Zoya, please give him some brain.)
I know she won't say anything because she's the only one who knew about us, back then. Waniya too loved her.
"Maa theek khe rahi hain Zeeshan ab tumhe shaadi karleni chahiye," she looked everywhere but at me. (Zeeshan, Mom is right you should get married.)
What transpired to her? She comprehends I can't get married.
"Maa, ap nashta lagwa dein," I completely ignored their wedding topic. Anaya was still on my lap, quietly. Mom went into the kitchen. (Mom, bring the breakfast.)
"Bhabhi," I called Zoya Bhabhi. She looked at me. (Sister-in-law.)
"Zeeshan, I know what you are thinking, but don't you think you are punishing yourself a bit too much? Waiting for someone who would mostly probably never show up," she isn't wrong. But how can I even consider any other girl that ain't Waniya?
It's been six years. If I wanted I would have found her but her last letter to me was.
"It's over, Zeeshan. I'm safe. Don't look for me, respect my privacy. I will respect yours,"
As these words reverberated in the depths of my mind, I couldn't help but wish for the chance to turn back time and have a conversation with her about our relationship.
