After standing on the wedding dais all day, Aishla was finally escorted to the Arkatama family residence. The young woman, now the wife of a widower, could only sit silently in the car. She sat beside Arsyan, who was busy making phone calls. Without having to ask, Aishla knew that the man who was now legally her husband was dealing with the case of Alisya, who had suddenly vanished without a trace.
Disbelief crept into her heart. In the blink of an eye, she had become the wife of that lecherous widower. Aishla could still picture the shocked faces of her friends. Salwa most of all. The girl hadn't said a word when she was faced with them.
Aishla had never imagined that she would marry a wealthy widower like Arsyan. If not for Anatasya, she certainly would have refused. Anatasya's tears were her weakness. She couldn't bear to let the Arkatama family suffer the humiliation of a wedding that had failed to take place. Everything she had done today was only to save the Arkatama family's reputation from its greatest disgrace.
"Sir, escort her inside. I still have some business to take care of," Arsyan ordered when they arrived in the residence's courtyard.
Aishla immediately got out of the car without waiting for the driver to open the door for her. She also didn't want to spend any longer than necessary with that man. Even though they had married because of an emergency, Aishla would still do her best to make the marriage work.
"This way, Mrs.," the driver said, inviting Aishla inside.
Anatasya and her grandson had already returned home. She had deliberately left the newlyweds alone so they could spend time together, hoping they would grow close as quickly as possible.
"Don't call me Mrs., Sir. Just call me Aishla," Aishla replied, uncomfortable with someone older than her addressing her as Mrs. Besides, she didn't feel worthy of being called that. It seemed that she and the middle-aged man who worked as the Arkatama family's driver came from the same social background.
"I can't do that. You are Mrs. Arsyan now—the master's wife," the middle-aged man refused, feeling too respectful to call her by her name.
A woman walked out of the residence. A smile lit up her face when she saw the person she had been waiting for. "Oh, Aishla's here? Where's Arsyan?!"
Anatasya approached her daughter-in-law, who immediately kissed the back of her hand. The happiness shining on her face showed just how thrilled she was. Having a pious daughter-in-law like Aishla was the greatest blessing of Anatasya's life. She hoped Aishla would be able to guide her son, who had strayed so far from God. She had also begun praying again after meeting Aishla.
Aishla's eyes widened in awe at the building. It wasn't merely beautiful on the outside; the interior was even more pleasing to the eye. Aishla was led to the sitting room and invited to sit by her employer, who was now her mother-in-law.
"You must be tired, huh? That Arsyan really went overboard inviting so many people. I'll find a masseuse later to rub your feet so they won't ache," Anatasya rambled as she handed her daughter-in-law a glass of warm milk.
"Thank you, Ma'am," Aishla said as she accepted it.
"You're welcome, sweetheart. Starting today, you don't have to work at the boutique anymore. All your things will be moved here tomorrow. Arsyan's room is the one with the white door. If you want to rest, just go upstairs. I still need to check everything over."
Aishla bit her lower lip. She still felt awkward in such a huge house. "Ma'am, can I help?" she offered, unable to leave Anatasya busy checking the inventory all by herself.
"No, you don't need to. Just rest. Go upstairs. Arrayyan's already asleep in the room," Anatasya refused, signaling her daughter-in-law to go up to the second floor immediately.
Without saying much more, Aishla obeyed. After saying good night, she climbed the stairs one by one and turned right. When she reached the white door, Aishla drew a deep breath and slowly let it out.
"Bismillah," Aishla murmured as she opened the bedroom door.
She curved her lips into a smile as she looked around every corner of the room. Neat. It was the one word that could describe the widower's bedroom. No—she meant Arsyan's bedroom, which was now hers too.
"Who would have thought that I'm married now and have become the mother of this little boy?" she murmured as she stroked the hair of the sleeping Arrayyan.
Aishla shook her head when Arrayyan tugged up his own shirt, exposing his stomach. For a moment, she remembered the telon oil she often carried with her. Even though he was already this big, Aishla still used it. The scent of telon oil was very gentle, unlike the strong-smelling massage oils made for adults.
"Sleep well, sweetheart," Aishla whispered after rubbing telon oil onto her stepson's stomach and covering him with a blanket.
Aishla didn't dare sleep in the same bed as her husband's son. So she decided to sleep on the sofa instead. Fortunately, there was a sofa in this room. It was very different from her boarding-room.
Meanwhile, Arsyan was truly frustrated by Alisya's disappearance. The young woman seemed to have been swallowed by the earth. There wasn't a single sign of where she might be. He had sent several trusted people out to find his fiancée, but so far, they hadn't given him any news.
His dark eyes stared blankly at the dim expanse of the night sky. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the wind that felt cold enough to pierce his bones.
"Where else am I supposed to look for you, Alisya?" he whispered, beginning to lose his direction.
Everything that had happened today had happened so quickly that it felt like a dream. Just last night, he had been on the phone with Alisya. They had talked about all the things they would do after getting married. But instead, Alisya had disappeared. Arsyan didn't know whether his future wife had been kidnapped or had left of her own accord.
Not wanting to dwell on the reason Alisya had failed to become Mrs. Arkatama, Arsyan decided to go home. He arrived at the residence at exactly two in the morning.
The man went straight to the bedroom. One eyebrow rose when he saw the figure of the woman who was now officially his life partner. Aishla's appearance hadn't changed since their first meeting: modest clothing, a head covering, and, of course, socks.
Arsyan couldn't make sense of the girl. Aishla was the strangest girl he had ever met. He often encountered women who wore hijabs, but none were as covered up as Aishla. Sometimes, they still showed the contours of their bodies. Aishla, on the other hand, wore a hijab that reached all the way down to her thighs.
"Why did I marry a cocoon girl like her? Look at her. She's not attractive at all," Arsyan muttered as he headed for the bathroom.
It only took Arsyan a few minutes to clean himself up. He opened the bathroom door while drying his hair with a towel. His body jerked when his eyes caught sight of a girl sitting pensively on the sofa.
His brow furrowed in confusion. Why was the girl awake at this hour? Arsyan grew even more confused when Aishla pulled a mukena out of her bag. Was she going to pray at night?
He truly couldn't believe that devout servants of God like her still existed.
"Mr. Arsyan?" Aishla called, breaking the half-naked man's reverie.
Aishla lowered her head and twisted her fingers together. Her heart pounded. She hadn't meant to see the bare upper body of the man who was now officially her husband.
Arsyan sighed. He walked to the wardrobe and quickly got dressed. Then he lay down on the bed, ignoring the girl as she took off her socks. He pretended to close his eyes when Aishla approached.
"M-Mr. Arsyan, may I borrow a prayer mat?" Aishla knew her husband wasn't really asleep, so she gathered the courage to ask.
"Take one from the wardrobe," Arsyan replied, hugging his son tightly.
He was actually still thinking about Alisya's whereabouts, but for some reason, seeing Aishla brought him peace. Unfortunately, he couldn't simply accept Aishla's presence. Alisya still occupied a place in the depths of Arsyan's heart. The same was true for Arrayyan. The boy wouldn't easily accept Aishla as his stepmother, because no one could replace Alisya in their hearts.
After finding a prayer mat, Aishla performed ablution. Then she spread out the mat and put on her mukena. None of it escaped Arsyan's notice as he watched her from the corner of his eye.
In this house, Aishla would be herself. She would begin her role as a wife and a mother. Even though they needed time to get to know one another, she would patiently wait.
Maybe she deliberately decided to pray at night to get my attention, Arsyan thought before deciding to fall asleep.
Aishla raised her hands. Without realizing it, tears began streaming down her face. She didn't know what the future held for their marriage. It was obvious that Arsyan didn't accept this sudden marriage. Everything had happened so quickly. Aishla couldn't refuse because she loved Anatasya so dearly. She also didn't want her employer's family reputation ruined because the wedding was in danger of failing if they couldn't find a replacement bride soon enough.
"O Allah, Aishla sincerely accepts this marriage. Please help Aishla preserve her marriage."
Aishla only wanted to marry once in her life. She didn't want a divorce, except through death. She also had no desire to marry a second time if fate required her marriage to end. Aishla didn't know much about Arsyan and his son. She could only rely on Anatasya to help her win their hearts. Now, she had a duty to care for her husband and her stepson.
I failed to get the husband of my dreams and ended up with a lecherous widower like him instead. Astaghfirullah, O Allah... Aishla kept her thoughts about her fate to herself.