"I don't... I don't accept this. Alan is the only person I see as my husband. I don't..." Fiza's voice trembled with disbelief, her world unraveling before her.

She fixed a gaze on her father, her eyes filled with anger and betrayal. "You are such a hypocrite, pappa! All your life, you worked for Muslim women's rights, and now you take away mine using the very loophole you fought against."

Her father's face contorted with pain, and she could see her words were causing him anguish, but he had, in her eyes, stripped her of her freedom and forced her into a marriage she vehemently rejected.

"Fiza, I wouldn't have done this, but you left me no choice. You were ready to give up your dreams for him. You were blind!" Her father defended himself, his words laden with desperation.

"You are the one who's blind, not me. You are biased because of Fiza Ammai. Alan is not Ronald Chittappan!" Fiza shouted, her frustration boiling over. She turned her gaze to Faisal, who stood silently.

"And you? You are not my husband. This marriage is illegal. I will never accept you. I will divorce you," she declared with unwavering determination, though she knew that proving the marriage's illegality would involve taking legal action against her father, a painful and risky path that could land her father in jail - no matter how angry she was with him, she didn't wish to do that.

"Fiza," Faisal said slowly, his eyes filled with sadness and concern as he approached her. "Let me talk to you in private." His voice held a plea, and Fiza, despite her anger, clenched her teeth and reluctantly agreed. "Fine."

She led him to her room, a room that held memories of their last encounter, a bittersweet thought that briefly crossed her mind.

He appeared lost in thought, seated on her bed, and patted the space next to him, inviting her to sit. However, Fiza remained standing, arms crossed defensively.

"Fiza, your father told me that Alan was hurting you," Faisal explained.

Fiza opened her mouth to argue, but Faisal held up a hand, his eyes beseeching her. "Let me finish, please."

Faisal's words bore the weight of his genuine concern and emotions. His eyes welled up as he confessed, "I was already worried about you. I knew you were afraid of him. I knew he had been cheating on you. But you overlooked everything that he did. I wouldn't have done this if your dad hadn't sent me a picture of you. You look... you look like..." He couldn't continue, wiping away a tear that escaped.

Fiza's heart was torn between the sincerity in his words and the fact that he had taken away her choice, her freedom. He had imposed his views and decisions on her, and that reality was hard to ignore.

She couldn't however help but recall how Alan, too, had once taken away her right to choose by breaking up with her believing that she would be better off with Faisal. But, he had returned, had he not? He had realized his mistake.

Taking deep breaths to steady her emotions, Fiza spoke with a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Faisal, you are not my knight in shining armor. You haven't saved me from anything," she declared scathingly. "I will never be a wife to you!"

"Well, I'm your husband. You'll eventually warm up to me," Faisal declared, his eyes unwavering as he met her gaze.

Fiza's anger flared as she shouted, "I belong to Alan, and he to me. He is as much my husband as any man could ever be. And you know that!" She couldn't comprehend how Faisal could look past the depth of her love for Alan, given what he had witnessed between them.

"Fiza, Alan's gone. He's not coming back to you. He knows to stay away," Faisal stated with an unsettling undertone. "I'm not going to let him come anywhere near you."

Fiza's voice quivered with fury as she retorted, "Not going to let? You have no right!"

"I've filed a police complaint against him. For hurting you. Harassing and hurting women is a serious offense. If he comes near you again, he will not just go to jail, he will lose his medical license. Unlike you, he chose his career," Faisal threatened, his tone unyielding.

Fiza hissed in outrage, her eyes narrowed. "How dare you?"

"I'm just protecting my wife," he replied simply. "Fiza, you were about to give up your career..."

"I was not!" Fiza interjected vehemently. "Pappa told me that he was not going to let me finish my PG if I continued to see Alan. So I just said that I would choose Alan to spite him... I would have figured it out, applied for a student loan..." her voice trailed off, frustration and regret seeping in.

Faisal looked at his hands, his decision apparent as he revealed, "I'm done with my GI fellowship. I have applied for a faculty position in Mangalore. Until you are done with your studies, I'll be in Mangalore with you, and then we can both move to Calicut."

Fiza's heart sank at the realization. Faisal in Mangalore with her during her studies? It was something she couldn't accept. She shook her head in disbelief, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

"I'm not going to stay with you," she declared with a heavy heart. "I... I'll file for Khula." Fiza knew it wouldn't be easy.

In India, despite being a secular country, separate laws based on religion often complicated matters. Islamic law, or Sharia law, which should have provided women with rights, was often at odds with modern interpretations of the religion. Muslim marriages could not be annulled. She could only initiate a divorce. It was a harsh reality that she would have to navigate to reclaim her autonomy.

Faisal's calm demeanor hid the ultimatum behind his words. "You don't get to decide where to stay," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your father isn't going to pay your tuition unless you stay with me. And he's sure as hell not going to pay your rent for you to stay away from me."

Tears welled up in Fiza's eyes as she grappled with the weight of her father's control over her education and finances. She refused to be a victim, though, and began formulating a plan in her mind.

After several moments of contemplation, she made a reluctant concession, "I'll stay with you." It was a choice dictated by necessity rather than desire. "But I'm not going to be a wife to you."

Faisal's response was unsettlingly accommodating. "Okay... we'll see about that. I can wait."

A heavy, oppressive silence hung in the room, reflecting the weight of the decisions that had been made.

Fiza felt a profound sense of loss that had overtaken her life in a single day-losing Alan, her strained relationship with her father, her sister's absence, and now the stark reality of her future hanging in the balance.

"I'm leaving with you to Mangalore tomorrow. We'll look for a place to stay," Faisal declared, his tone holding a mix of determination and frustration. He couldn't fathom why Fiza couldn't see the sacrifices he was making, the extent of his love and concern for her, and how deeply he was affected by her adamant stance. He hadn't even disclosed their marriage to his own parents yet; that conversation would come later, once he had figured things out with Fiza.

The following day, they embarked on their journey to Mangalore together. Faisal reached out to hold her hand, and this time, Fiza allowed it. She was drained, both emotionally and mentally, and as they left her hometown behind, she knew she had to choose her battles wisely in the challenging road ahead.

Faisal had meticulously scouted several apartments online, presenting them to Fiza for her consideration.

After careful thought, Fiza settled on the one closest to her campus, even though it was an older unit. What mattered most to her was that it had two bedrooms-she was determined not to share a bed with Faisal.

"I have to stay with Bharti this month. Until she finds a new roommate," Fiza informed Faisal, her desire for independence still resolute.

Faisal considered her words for a moment before responding, "I'll just pay your rent for a couple of months until Bharti finds a roommate." He had already informed Bharti about his marriage to Fiza, a conversation that had been met with relief on Bharti's end.

Although Faisal and Bharti weren't close friends, they had worked together and held each other in high regard. In times of crisis, like when Fiza had experienced her miscarriage, it was Faisal whom she had trusted and reached out to for support.

Fiza's world had unraveled, leaving her with a profound sense of loneliness that seemed impossible to bear. Part of her yearned to mend the rift with her father, to find solace in accepting the life that had been thrust upon her, and to move forward as if nothing had changed.

She reminisced about her relationship with her father, the one person who had loved her with an unwavering devotion. He had been her anchor during her childhood, the one who had swung her on his arms, carried her high on his shoulders, and spun her around, playing the role of an airplane. He had not only given her wings but also taught her how to soar through life.

His love had been unconditional, especially when he had taken her in after the tragic loss of her biological mother. She knew that his decisions had been rooted in love and fear - fear of history repeating itself. She acknowledged his perspective.

Yet, Fiza couldn't ignore the fact that she had been a devoted daughter as well. She had strived to make her father proud, always maintaining proper behavior in front of others and diligently adhering to family rules.

When Alan had sought her father's blessing to be with her, it had been granted, and she had invested her heart in that relationship. How could her father now restrain her, preventing her from being with the person she loved most? How could he arrange her marriage without her consent?

The old Fiza, who would have readily chosen the comfortable path to please everyone, no longer existed. Her time away from family and her deepening relationship with Alan had brought about a transformation within her. In the last few years, she had discovered newfound assertiveness and unwavering confidence. Her wings could no longer be clipped, and she was prepared to confront the anguish and uncertainty that lay ahead.

Fiza looked up at Faisal, her eyes brimming with tears. She wished she could just wake up from this nightmare.

"It's okay, Fiza. I'm here for you. I'll help you move on from him. It's okay," he comforted, drawing closer. "I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

She nodded slowly, too exhausted to reject him. His unfamiliar lips captured hers and his hands were on her waist. But she felt nothing; her body had gone numb.

All she wanted was Alan, her Alan, and no one else. Her mind drifted back to their last conversation-it had been so frantic. She had asked him to promise her something so important.

"Promise me that no matter what happens, our love, our relationship, meant something. Promise me you won't go back to who you were before we met. Promise me you'll stay strong, be brave, and keep moving forward," she had pleaded.

And he had replied, "There's no life for me without you, Fiza. There's nothing left ahead to move forward to. Run away with me."

Oh, how she wished she had run away with him. But here she was now, in someone else's arms, trying to rebuild a life from scratch.

"Stop," she said firmly, and he immediately pulled back, unlike Alan, who always needed a few reminders before he'd listen. She wondered if that had been passion or just disrespect?

Faisal reassured her, "Everything will be okay." She peered into his gentle, caring eyes but she couldn't see his soul the way she could see Alan's. A heavy sigh escaped her lips; all her tears were spent. The epic romance had come to an end, and Alan hadn't even tried to reach out after her Nikah. No fairy tale ending for them.

Fiza knew that she couldn't endanger Alan's career, but the thought of living with Faisal was unbearable. She was determined to find a way out, no matter the cost. She decided to take a student loan for tuition, use her stipend, and stay in the hostel, the most economical option. She wouldn't depend on her father financially.

Tears streamed down her face as she thought about the 'runaway' fund that Alan had started for her. Alan, with all his imperfections, had loved her deeply and cared for her. No matter what happened in their lives, she would always belong to him. She was his wife in every way that truly mattered, bound by an unbreakable love that transcended religious ceremonies and paperwork.

The overwhelming sadness of her situation engulfed her as she realized the painful path she had to walk, torn between love and duty.

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Authors note

There is a huge debate about implementing Uniform Civil Code in India. There are different laws governing marriage, divorce, succession etc for different religious groups in India. Indian consitution is based on accepting the diversity within the country.
Would implementing a uniform code for all impinge on the rights of minority citizens? Or would it grant them more rights and autonomy?
Would it be an imposition that killed the concept of secularism? Should it instead seek to reform existing laws instead?

I see both sides of it, I'm more in favor of reform and choice, than homogeneity.

Lyric video to "Ceilings" Somehow feel like this sonf vibes with this chapter

❤️Faiza