His Accidental Second Wife
- Reads 151,715
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- Parts 59
MatureOngoing11h 58m
Last published Mon, Jun 15, 2026
"You didn't eat again," he said quietly.
She didn't turn. Didn't even flinch.
"Maira," he spoke again, softer this time, taking a step closer. "I brought dinner. Atleast have a few bites."
Her voice came out barely above a whisper, low, trembling. "Why? So I can stay strong enough to keep pretending?"
The words hit him hard, knocking the breath out of him.
"You're not pretending," Hadi said quickly, defensively, though he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or her.
She turned slowly, eyes red and hollow. "Aren't I?" she asked, voice trembling. "I sleep in this room like a stranger. Even though I'm your wife. I exist in your world, Hadi... but can I ever exist in your heart?"
"Maira," he began, this was the first time she had openly claimed her title as his wife and he didn't know how to respond, but he said with his tone heavy, "you know everything. I... I married you because I..."
"...felt guilty," she finished for him, her voice sharp, cutting through the air. "You hit me with your car. My life shattered. And you had to save me to get rid of your guilt."
He froze. Words deserted him.
Her eyes dropped to the floor, tears gathering along her lashes. "At least Lubna has your love. Your son has your name. Me? What do I have?"
---
𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐀𝐥𝐢. 24. No identity beyond that. No one to call hers. No place she could truly belong. Except in one nikahnama... where her name sat beside his.
𝐋𝐮𝐛𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢. 28. A talented interior designer. Graceful, and passionate about her work. Hadi's first love, and the woman the world recognizes as his wife.
𝐇𝐚𝐝𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢. 30. Successful. Respected. A loving husband. A devoted father. A man who did the right thing, even when his heart wasn't in it, and married a woman out of guilt... not love.
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𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.
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