Ishq: Not A Love Story Novels & Stories

They were not words of love or genuine intention; they were dictated by expectations, imposed by family, and executed with mechanical precision. As the minister’s voice faded into the background, I could feel a tumult of emotions churning within me—anger, sorrow, and a gnawing sense of betrayal. How could I possibly live a life where every moment was measured, every smile forced? I wondered if Damien even understood the cost of what we had just sealed with our words. I recalled the brief, intense moment when his lips met mine—a kiss that, for a split second, seemed to hold a promise of passion. Yet, it quickly dissolved into the clinical detachment that had come to define him. It was as if h

She looked wistful, as if picturing a romance pulled straight from the movies. I forced a smile, trying to share in their enthusiasm. "Yeah, it sounds... interesting." One of my colleagues, Clara, noticed my lack of enthusiasm. "What's wrong, Ava? Don't you like the idea?" I sighed, shaking my head slightly. "It's just... there are no perfect lovers in reality. It's a nice idea, but it's not realistic." The truth is, if someone did show up who checked off all those boxes, wouldn’t they were a fraud? I just thought but didn’t speak.

Not speaking out of anger for more than three days could cost them until they made up, so they understood. Not everyone can solve problems on the spot. Some need time to calm down and think longer to come up with a solution. Besides, Iqlima was intrigued by Athaya's love story from her college days. She vividly remembered that the woman who sat clutching a small Qur'an on the bed next to her often received support from her peers with an ikhwan in their organization. The surprising thing that Iqlima had just found out was that the man that all the girls wanted to be with at that time was already married. [Shouldn't marital bliss be broadcast?]

Emma gazed at the sparkling diamond ring on her finger, feeling its heavy presence. The ring symbolized a commitment, but not one born of love or choice. Instead, it represented a binding agreement, a contract that tied her to a stranger. She had always envisioned her dream wedding, with a loving partner, laughter, and joyful tears. But this reality was far from her fantasy. The man she was engaged to was practically a stranger, someone she hadn't fallen for, hadn't shared memories with, or built any connection with.

Is that even love? He humiliates me, abuses me physically and mentally, says demeaning statements against me, don't care about me and my consent. Kisses me, hugs me forcefully and doesn't even let me smile without his permission. Does this guy really love me? Is love like this? I then turned around just to look at Arhaan. He was gleefully smiling as he drove like he had achieved something expensive in his life. His happiness was something different, like when you win a trophy. Was I just a trophy to him? A commodity? An object?

-No, no, Esau, don't ask me that, that can't be. -Look Tere, we both love each other, since we were children we are the product of our first love and we never forget it, unfortunately destiny was determined to separate us, we saw each other again, but our love is impossible, we would harm people who are not to blame for anything, and we love them too, let's give ourselves the chance to see each other for a few hours every year, that's all we have, no more. She who had her head down, looking at the floor, raised her head and said to him:

Ismail demanded. “Allah did,” Sikandar answered calmly, “ask any scholar, they’ll tell you you can’t force me to marry against my will.” Ismail was flabbergasted, he didn’t expect Sikandar to invoke the almighty. “We thought you wanted to marry her,” Aafiya insisted, “You were so happy when we announced the engagement.” “Then she started hating me for binding her to me and openly messing around with Ishaq,” Sikandar scoffed, “Even I have more pride than to settle for sloppy seconds.”

Hatem approached the opposite to caress his hair, without hesitation he hugged the smallest with some force leaving a kiss on his forehead, Hatem look surprised at Iqhwa's eyes full of tears. "Hey, don't worry... when everything is over I'll be back" "Really? Do you promise me to come back?" “I promise Iqhwa, so don't cry" After that farewell Iqhwa hug him back for a few minutes more, he helped Hatem pack some things for the trip and accompanied him to the entrance of the forest but before arriving Iqhwa at the carriage of the girl, Iqhwa confessed his feelings to Hatem, he didn't know how to react but before he could say anything he had received a kiss from Iqhwa, a subtle touch from the li

Do Tarfa Hai Toh Yeh Sanjog Hai But if it is on both sides, then it is destiny Layi Re Humein Zindgani Ki Kahaani Kaise Mod Pe On what turning has the story of life brought us Huve Re Khud Se Paraaye We have become unknown to our own selves Hum Kisi Se Naina Jod Ke After striking a gaze with someone else Hazaaron Mein Kisi Ko Taqdeer Aisi Such good fortune is attained by those who are one in a million Mili Hai Ik Ranjha Aur Heer Jaisi One is like Ranjha and the other one is like Heer Na Jaane Ye Zamaana Kyun Chaahe Re Mitaana I don’t know why the world wants to erase this Kalank Nahi Ishq Hai Kaajal Piya… (x2) Love is not like a stain, it is like kohl Main Tera, Main Tera, Main Tera, Main Te

Taking step closer to her, he held her shoulder, there was something in his eyes which made Nayab freeze and listen. "Love is just like you, pure, selfless and innocent. We don't think care about ourselves in love, all that matter is our lover's happiness." "You are only saying this because you don't want me to separate you and Qirat. I'm not that heartless. You can meet Qirat every day. I won't stop you." She whimpers. Defeated, Taimoor sigh. "I'm only saying this because it is the truth."