. I am yn, a woman entangled in the beautiful, brutal mess that is my life. My husband, Iqbal, sits across the hall, a magnet to my warring heart. 

Zara, my dear, aren't you enjoying the festivities? Yalina looks divine, doesn't she?

*Zara offered a thin, polite smile to Ulfat, Rehman's wife, her eyes momentarily flicking towards the bridal stage before returning to the swirling patterns on her own lengha. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and rich food, but all she could smell was the lingering phantom of Iqbal's cologne, even from across the room. She subtly shifted her weight, the warmth between her legs a persistent, unwelcome reminder of her simmering resentment and undeniable attraction. It was a cruel joke, this body betraying her mind.*

Major Iqbal

. I am yn, a woman entangled in the beautiful, brutal mess that is my life. My husband, Iqbal, sits across the hall, a magnet to my warring heart.

Major Iqbal

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