CHAPTER 31
HAYAT POV:
As I entered the room after having a conversation with the girls, the first thing I did was get freshened up, as I saw my husband sleeping already. He must be tired; he had taken care of me last night and then driven the car for the entire day to Lahore.
I kind of regret speaking my mind in front of my family now. Looking at my husband, I went and pulled the covers over him so he wouldn't catch a cold. Taking my medicine, I went to the balcony to gaze at the beautiful view. After what felt like half an hour, I walked inside to find him still sleeping.
Noticing the time, I realized Ahad would miss his Isha prayer, so I performed my ablution and returned to wake him. When he didn't stir, I spread the prayer mat and began with my farz rakats.
As I made my dua with closed eyes, I felt his head rest on my lap, and I looked down to find him asleep on the cold floor beneath him, so I started waking him up when he held both of my hands.
"My beautiful wife, do you know the first thing I noticed was your eyes?" he looked directly into my eyes as he spoke.
I shook my head as no, and he continued, "Your eyes are the prettiest shade of brown, which reminds me the color a sky could change into, hazel brown eyes which hold a little tone of gold in it, which shines whenever I get you gajray, which looks at me curiously when I say some words which you have never heard before, which asks me to fall deeply in love."
He held the back of my head, pulling me a little down towards him, continued, "The hazel eyes which hold tears in them when my wife is sad, the captivating eyes which get darken when someone steps out of the line, the hazel eyes which makes me drown within them, the eyes which makes me say Masha Allah while looking away."
His words were filled with sincerity. He placed my hand on his heart, "Jaan, you should know the power you hold over me. Never in your life try to hold your pain in these eyes, share it with me, never let these beautiful eyes have tears in them, make me cry all you want, I won't complain but you, my wife… never."
My husband… Ahad Mir… doesn't know how much his words affect me… how he is changing me… how he's healing something he never broke… how the inner child that wanted love and appreciation desperately is happy after a decade.
How much I hate the eyes he loves the most… his quiet and calm way of expressing everything puts my heart at ease.
I have grown up with a family that loves fighting and disregarding one another, but here with Ahad, I have never felt it… and I hope it stays the same way till the end.
"Do you know, my father has the same eye color as me, and- he always hated me for it, and I hated my eye color for the same reason, too," I confessed, looking away from him, not wanting to see my husband, who has fallen for the eyes that I never loved.
"I, my love, love your eyes, your smile, your ranting, your mood swings, your lit-up eyes seeing gajray, your secret love for coffee, your obsession over books, your jealousy, your bricking, your fired-up eyes when someone just messes with you, I love each and everything about you, even if it's a flaw, never judge yourself, never hate my wife, Hayat, she is the most precious treasure of mine," Ahad said sitting beside me, taking me in his arms, I smiled looking at him… giving in to his embrace.
After praying salah, we sat together on the balcony, me holding his right arm tightly while laying my head on his shoulder. The cold breeze made the surroundings cold, yet it felt warm and comfortable.
I patted his arm, and suddenly, I had this urge to bite his bicep. Shaking the thought of it, I glanced up at him, who was giving me a knowing look. I asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He kept looking at me as if he knew what I was thinking at the moment, "You are looking at my bicep like you want to bite it." I laughed and nodded my head, not hiding the fact.
He smiled and flexed his bicep in front of my face, closing his eyes, and he pointed at the arm. "Go on," I looked at his face and then bit his arm with full force; he did not scream or make a sound.
I released his arm, and there was a visible red bite mark. I glanced at him to see his eyes opening up, meeting mine directly, "Done?"
I just smiled and lay my head again on his shoulder, rubbing the place I bit… suddenly, I heard him saying, "You're a 2-year-old baby for real."
I looked at his face and laughed while pinching his cheek… It's our way of spending our time together, quiet and simple.
I had never known what it was like to be truly comfortable with someone, to be this open and playful without fear of judgment… but with Ahad, I could be as silly as I wanted.
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I woke up in the morning and looked for Ahad, but he was not in the room. But my eyes caught a foreign bag placed on my side table as I picked it up, looking inside it curiously, I found two beautiful handmade crochet gajray.
I brought them out of the bag and found a note inside the bag too, "I tried and crocheted these for you. I will make you a rose one too after I learn that properly, but for now, have these, my Jaan."
Instantly, those were on my wrist. I placed the note in my bag after folding it carefully, treasuring it…
My hands went to my suitcase, and I took out my black Anarkali frock with a black net dupatta on the side. I felt like wanting to get ready.
I did my makeup and tied my hair in a loose bun while wearing my heels and Ahad's gifted gajray. I glanced at myself for the last time in the mirror, and turned around to pick my phone up from the bedside table when the room door was unlocked…
Ahad stood there… surprised… shocked…stunned… amazed, he looked at me like I'd vanish in thin air if he closed his eyes for a second. I must say, his expression was worth watching. I felt so confident in myself that moment, seeing his reaction, no words were coming out of his mouth, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Jaan," he came towards me and took my right hand in his, twirling me around in the room. He continued, "Thora reham kr lein apne iss shohar per; ap nihayati khoobsurat lag rhi hai." (Translation: Have some mercy on your husband; you look exceptionally gorgeous.)
I smiled at his compliment as I took steps, closing the mere distance, looking into his eyes, "You noticed my fondness for gajray, so you crocheted a pair for me."
He smiled, scratching the back of his head, stealing glances, nodding his head, "I love these, thank you," I whispered, pecking his cheek, making him go red.
Soon, he stepped into the shower, and when he emerged, he was dressed in a black shalwar kameez. My eyes lingered on him, taking in the way the color suited him perfectly.
There was something about him in black that I adored always, perhaps the effortless elegance or the quiet confidence he carried.
Noticing my stare, he smirked and asked, "Do I look like your husband?"
A smile tugged at my lips as I nodded, feeling my heart answer before I even could, "Hmm… mister, you look like the reason I'll have heart problems in the future." He laughed at my response, embracing me.
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We spent the day visiting some of the most beautiful places in Lahore. We tried street food, explored Lahore Fort and the Museum, admired the beauty of Sheesh Mahal, and visited the Tomb of Emperor Jahangir. Our last stop was Jallo Forest, where the air felt refreshing after a long day. I was exhausted after visiting so many places, but every moment was worth it.
I started remembering how Eira wanted to have a trip to Lahore and Islamabad after she found out I came to Karachi to study with her.
She always used to whine as she would say, "Hazel, I want to go on a trip with you someday, you know I have a diary in which I have written about the places of Pakistan I want to visit, you know Pakistan is more beautiful than people talk about, I want to explore the whole of Pakistan just with you."
And I would reply, "Just Pakistan? Wah, what a friend you are, dear Eira madam."
She would laugh and try to convince me about what she said… memories remind me of her… she is that part of my life that I cannot let go of, even if I want to… she made me the happiest… and no doubt I miss her the most.
I sighed as I whispered, "I miss you, Eira."
Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed our friends arguing loudly. At first, I thought they were talking, but their raised voices proved otherwise. I wanted to join in, but the ache in my feet from wearing heels held me back.
Ahad has given me his shawl halfway through our visits as I was feeling cold, but what about my feet now?
I tiredly sat on the bench, waiting for others to come back after their little argument. I was thinking hard about some matters when Ashar came and sat beside me, "What happened to you, dumbo?" Looking at my tired face, he asked.
"My feet ache, idiot," I said, annoyed as I massaged my feet.
"Then why did you wear heels?" He asked curiously, cautiously glancing at my irritated face, "Because I wanted to! Stupid, I wanted to look tall and a good match with your poll like a tall brother," I burst out without knowing that I had spoken more than I should have.
"Ahem," I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Silently praying that he wouldn't be angry, I turned around, only to find him biting his lower lip… maybe trying to hide the obvious, evident smile, instead of scowling.
Relief washed over me as he stepped closer, knelt in front of me, and pulled something out of a bag.
It was shoes, a beautiful pair of shoes… in black color… matching my dress color… he knelt in front of me, holding my feet in his hand, he took off the heels and made me wear the shoes he brought, and surprisingly they fit me perfectly.
"How did you-" I couldn't complete my sentence when he spoke, looking up at me, "Do you think I didn't notice you sitting down every time we passed seats instead of you jumping around telling me how beautiful everything looks." I smiled; it felt amazing that someone noticed my behavior and put me first.
"But it could have also been me being moody instead," he was still kneeling before me, holding my heels in his hands.
"I know when my wife gets cranky and moody." He got up and sat beside me, he took my hand in his, and looked at my empty ring finger.
"Ahad, we have been married for just a month or two," I said, ignoring the way he was playing with my fingers.
He looked up with shiny eyes, "Weeks don't define how well I know you, Jaan. When my heart is already captured by you, I discover you in ways time can't tell, and you, my dear wife, have had my full attention from the start, so believe me when I say I know you better than anyone else ever could." pinching my nose with another hand, he teased.
As we walked down the stairs, he nudged me lightly, gaining my attention, "Well, I'm tall like a pole, hmm?" He questioned, more like demanding I answer him.
"Ahh, that, actually, I-" fumbling, embarrassed, I closed my eyes, when he suddenly started to laugh and sat beside me on the side of the wooden bench, taking me in his warm embrace… he knows how to shut me up, too, now.
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"Here you go, Hayat, I brought an ice cream for you," Ashar said, passing me ice cream, it was so sweet of him to think about me, but I couldn't eat it. I couldn't refuse him, yet I know he won't mind if I speak my mind.
"No, I have a cold, I can't eat it, Ashar," I said, feeling guilty as he stood in front of me, realizing I still had a little flu.
Asfia was filming a vlog for her channel, and others were helping her out while I sat in the garden with Ashar; he still had the ice cream in his hand…
"Bhai, come here and eat this; your wife doesn't want an ice cream," Ashar said loudly to catch Ahad's attention, who had been on call for the last few minutes.
He walked over to us, pocketing his phone, and grabbed the ice cream from Ashar's hand, instead of eating it right away, he unwrapped it slowly, glancing at me, "Are you sure you don't want to have a bite?" he asked, his voice laced with a knowing smirk with a hint of tease.
I shook my head and turned away, focusing on nothing but hiding my expression from Ahad.
Ahad didn't say anything after that, but I heard a hum of satisfaction from behind me as I knew he was making sure I heard it, "Hmm, it's actually really good. Cold, creamy… and exactly what you'd love, darling."
I rolled my eyes, pretending to ignore him, looking at my nails now.
I heard his dramatic sigh as I tried to control my smile, "You know, darling, if you don't take a bite, I might just finish the whole thing." Then, without warning, he held the ice cream near my lips.
"Just a small bite, Jaan, I promise it won't make you fall sick," he tried to coax me softly, continued, "I'll be more careful and take care of you if your cold gets worse."
I sighed, giving him a knowing look before leaning in and taking a small bite.
Ahad grinned in victory, "My good girl, see, it wasn't so hard, right?"
Shaking my head at his antics, I leaned back against his chest while he took another bite; his satisfied expression showed as if he had won the championship.
"Want to take some pictures together?" I found Ahad looking down at me with a phone in his hand, indicating me towards the place before us.
I smiled and gave a nod, heading toward the spot he pointed. Glancing back, I found Ahad giving instructions to Ashar, who cluelessly nodded his head.
"Bhai, I know how to take pictures, okay… I'm much better than you, stop giving me instructions like an old man, go and stand with her, or I'll just run away from here." Ashar responded irritably, screaming a little. I laughed at them as I saw Ahad glaring at the poor soul.
"Hold her, Ahad, she's your wife after all, L.E.G.A.L.W.I.F.E.," Ashar spoke while stressing on each word, trying to tease Ahad, but what caught my attention was the name; he never called Ahad by his name…
"Mind your language, Ashar." Ahad's expression darkened, forehead furrowed, and jaw clenched as he took a step closer to Ashar. "I won't tolerate this from you again!" he warned, his voice cold and unwavering.
The teasing smile on Ashar's face faltered, and he straightened slightly, recognizing the shift in Ahad's tone. "Bhai, I didn't mean it in a bad way," his voice softer at the end.
I could see the tension in Ahad's shoulders, his hand curled into a loose fist at his side. I placed my hand gently on his chest, looking into his eyes, trying to ease the tension "It's okay," I murmured, shaking my head slightly.
Ahad exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before stepping back.
"I'm sorry, Bhai," Ashar said after a brief pause, his voice held sincerity, eyes held pain as if he was in conflict, "I didn't mean any disrespect."
Ahad studied him for a second before nodding, the air around us suddenly felt odd; it held awkwardness, clearing his throat, Ahad spoke, "It's fine. Just be careful next time."
The next second, Ahad's mood changed as if he wanted to clear the tight air; he smirked, "Now, take our pictures, you mannerless man."
Ashar and I stared at him wide-eyed. That shook me, because this nickname was given to him by me, and no one calls him that. Ashar gets irritated when I use him such names, yet Ahad said it, and Ashar looked… prettified.
"Bhai, I told you not to say this in front of her. Now she'll tease me," Ashar whined, closing his eyes, turning around.
I burst out laughing as the awkward situation ended, "Too late, brother. Now hurry up and take our pictures, I'm exhausted, and it's almost evening."
Ashar sighed in defeat but grinned nonetheless, lifting the phone to take our pictures. The tension from earlier had vanished, replaced by the easy comfort that always existed between them.
Ahad held my waist from the back and looked into my eyes, and I smiled as our eyes met.
Ashar took a lot of our pictures. "Now come, bhai, take me and my girlfriend's pictures too." Running towards me, he passed the phone to Ahad.
"Don't you ever call her that again; she is my wife; you can't call her your girlfriend, isn't she your sister?" Ahad looked irritated as he glared at Ashar, digging holes into his soul.
"Whatever, brother, take our pictures now," Ashar ignored Ahad's comment as stood in front of me like an idiot, one hand on his back while the other was on his face, kind of Spider-Man but the local one.
"Pose like me." I laughed and shook my head.
"No way, I won't, I'm not an idiot, unlike you, I'll just stand here," I said and stood straight, looking at my husband.
Back in the hotel room, I lay on my bed, closing my eyes. I took a deep breath and whispered, "I'm hungry."
"Jaan, fresh up, and let's go to a restaurant," I heard Ahad say as I opened my eyes to see him looking at me while wearing his watch.
"I don't want to go anywhere. Can we order some takeaway food, please?" I requested as he nodded his head a little and called someone. For some minutes, my eyes stayed just on him.
I wanted to wear some soft material since my body was aching a lot. I scolded myself since I didn't pack any T-shirts for myself.
Ahad was still on the phone when I asked, "Can I have one of your tees, please?" Hanging up the call, he smiled at me and pointed towards the bag in the closet, "I packed some hoodies, too. You can take them from my bag, and there's no need to ask me next time." Bopping my nose, he walked off.
The loneliness I felt when she died, the heartbreak I had, memories… all I had to remind myself to stay in the lane… were the memories of her, the loneliness I felt when my father prioritized his new family over me, all the loneliness I felt growing up… not knowing these two brothers came and healed it.
My brother, my friend, Ashar, healed me in a way to always think about me before himself, always being there for me, him being a protector, a family member I never knew I needed, and my husband, Ahad, the knight in shining armor, healed me more than I could even heal him from his traumas.
He took me in like I was the only person he needed. The love, respect, and care he gave me healed me, my inner child that wanted attention from her family… It's all healed because of my husband... never in my life, I'll run away from this place, the place they gave me in their heart.
After having our meal together, I video called and greeted my mother-in-law and started giving her news about the two brothers' doings, "Ammi, you know these two brothers fight like monkeys who couldn't have the last banana, you know Ashar is such a foodie, while Ahad, on the other hand, skips his meal, these two are opposite yet similar, and you know…"
I was cut off in the middle of the conversation as Ahad started laughing, shaking his head a little. He spoke, "Ammi batein sunein sp inki bas." (Translation: Ammi, just listen to what she's saying.)
I looked at my mother, who was trying to conceal her smile, "Can you both not laugh at me like this, please?" I whined, hiding my face behind the pillow, embarrassed.
"Aww, my baby, we aren't laughing at you, Shona," Ammi comforted softly. (Translation: sweetheart.)
Ahad took my hand in his, "We are just teasing you, sweetheart."
I glanced at my mother, who was adoring us, and then at Ahad, who was looking at me. I was too shy to say anything to him in front of our mother.
After talking for some time, we ended the call with a good night. I turned to look at Ahad as he video-called Chachi. I sat there stunned, "You treat my family as yours, shouldn't I be doing the same?"
Chachi picked up the call, and we talked for a while before hanging up.
I lay down on the bed as my back was hurting a lot, turning my face to the other side, I closed my eyes, "Begum, won't you look at me tonight till you fall asleep?"
I opened my eyes, hearing Ahad, "What?" I questioned as we lay there looking at each other as he wished.
"Don't you sleep every night looking at my face, caressing my hair while holding my hand?" his words hit me hard. Did he think I was changing?
"Yeah, I do. Do you want me to do that?" I whisperingly questioned as he nodded his head, "Why won't I? Hold me all you want, I'm all yours, wifey." I giggled before interlocking our fingers together and caressing his head while he held my waist. We finally went to sleep in each other's arms.