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Hania

Hamza was there to meet me at the airport, and Mama was there as well, of course. Every time we are away from Mama for even a day, she acts like it's been years since we saw each other. It was adorable, actually.

Today, Hamza was wearing a plain white t-shirt with black jeans, looking amazing as usual. How have I hardly noticed his biceps before? I stared at his dangerously attractive arms.

We all greeted each other. 

"Hania, are you coming with me, or do you want to go with Hamza?" Mama looked amused. "I can take your luggage for you, if you want." 

"I actually want to talk to Hamza about something Mama, so I'll go with him. I'll be home soon though." I told her.

"Take your time, no limits." Mama's eyes gleamed with mischievousness. 

"World's coolest mother." Hamza commented, smiling at her.

"I wish my daughters agreed." Mama looked at my sister. "Shall we go, Iman?" She was still maintaining the coolness in her voice as she spoke to her. 

"Let's go." Iman nodded.

We walked to the car parking, and Mama took Iman to her car, while Hamza led me to his.

As I opened the front passenger door to get in, Hamza stopped me. 

"What?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's so good to have you back." He said, before giving me a quick peck on the lips. "Wait until rukhsati, Hania Hamza, and I won't let you go anywhere." 

I blushed, dropping my gaze.

He stepped towards me, tightening his arms around me, and I breathed in his scent.

"Yes, let's wait until rukhsati before you start making me feel things that I shouldn't feel right now." I giggled and ducked under his arm to sit in the car, feeling my blood warm up my face like it had just been microwaved or something.

"Care to elaborate those feelings?" Hamza asked once he was settled into the driving seat beside me.

"We shouldn't even talk about them until the wedding night." I was playing my bracelet again, an age old habit.

For a few seconds, he just stared at me in silence. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "You are an angel, Han, and I'm a demon who can never be deserving of you." 

I turned and met his gaze. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Hamza. You're far better than how you perceive yourself." 

He gave me a small smile, my words seemingly boosting up his confidence just a tiny bit. "See what I mean? Angel." 

****

We went to a café as I wanted hot chocolate.

We sat at a private table by the window, facing each other.

"I've made a decision, Hamza." I stared down into my mug as I spoke. "I want a clean slate, a fresh start. You've done enough to earn this, and I want to leave our shaky start behind and start all over again." 

"Are you saying that you trust me now?" He looked uncertain.

"I'm saying, we're going to act like a normal arranged marriage couple, getting to know each other and building up trust from scratch as we go along. The past will absolutely not impact the building of this trust." I explained.

He sat back in his seat, staring at me. "I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming right now." 

"Hamza, we're bound by a pure relationship with the blessings of Allah himself. And my parents have always taught me that if someone is trying to do the right thing, we should help them, rather than holding them back by repeatedly reminding them of their past mistakes- unless they repeat those mistakes of course." 

He chuckled almost humourlessly. "Even my own Papa doesn't trust me, Han, so I can't blame you." 

"Well, if it helps, tell Uncle that I want to let go of everything and start over." 

"Yeah, that would actually help a lot." He chuckled. "He's been going on and on about how he would disown me if I mistreat poor Hania, or break her trust in any way." 

"Poor Hania knows you enough now to want this fresh start." I grinned. "Relax. I'll talk to Uncle if you want."

"You've actually become a lawyer now?"

"Oh, hush." I took a sip of my sweet drink. "Hamza?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm actually trusting you by asking for this fresh start." I said, seriously. "And you should know that you can always be honest and open with me. In fact, it's important that you are, for the sake of our relationship." 

"I know, Han. I intend to be fully honest and open with you, unless I'm planning a surprise for you and have to hide from you or something."

I couldn't help laughing at that. "Good. And I promise honesty and openness in return."

"As you've always shown me anyway." He placed his hand over mine. "This is one of the reasons it didn't take me long to fall in love with you, Hania. You are honest, no matter how hard it is to be honest given the situation." 

And why have I fallen in love with him? I asked myself. Because he has a good heart, underneath all this tough exterior. Despite his tough childhood, Uncle's values have shone through at the right moments. Hamza is a good person, and I am absolutely certain of that now.

****

Hamza

"Uncle, you have a right to know this." I spoke to my parents-in-law. "My mother has been blackmailing me regarding Jasmina Aunty's past." 

Uncle looked confused. "You are being blackmailed regarding my wife's past...by your mother?" 

Yes, I come from an effed up family, unfortunately. I nodded. "I earlier spoke toAunty about my mother's behaviour, and how she is hell bent on ruiningeverything good in my life. Her main purpose in life is to have more money. But I'm here to openly talk to you both about this, because I know how protective you are of Hania." I looked up. "But, trust me, I would never intentionally hurt Hania, I promise. And even if I unintentionally hurt her, I will spend the rest of my life making up to her."

They both looked satisfied with my words. 

"The fact that you came to us and were honest with us is very commendable." Fawad Uncle looked like he hated to admit it. "Thank you for that, Hamza. And as long as Hania trusts you, that's all that matters."

"Actually, you guys and your opinions mean everything to her, hence it's important to me to clear things up with you."

Aunty grinned at her husband, lightly elbowing him in the ribs. "Careful, jaan. He may soon snatch the World's Best Husband title from you."

I chuckled, feeling happy that at least my Hania grew up with such amazing parents, in such a loving environment. No wonder she was such a sweetheart.

****

"Papa, I'm leaving!" I yelled up the stairs as I headed towards the garage, rolling down the sleeves of my grey shirt. I had stayed the night with Papa, and I had an open conversation with him, where I'd promised to remain loyal and dedicated to Hania. Finally, he had been convinced.

The garage was directly connected to Papa's house, and I opened the door and stepped down the two steps, ready to grab my helmet from a shelf. I stopped short in my tracks as I saw the sight before me. A gorgeous dark haired beauty was sitting on my bike, wearing a helmet and dressed in a biker style outfit: dark jeans, black biker boots and a black leather jacket over a long floral top. She grinned at me in her typical Hania-manner, like an overexcited kid.

"Surprise!" She called out.

"Han?!" I jogged over to her. "What are you doing here?! How?!" 

"Rabia helped me a little." She shrugged as I wrapped an arm around her waist. She turned slightly and wrapped her arms around my neck. "So, how did you like this surprise?"

"I've never had a more perfect surprise in my entire existence, babe." I kissed her forehead. "You're so damn beautiful that just looking at you is making me breathless." 

I took her helmet off and helped her off the bike, and she held onto me as if I was a fireman rescuing her from a burning building. Our lips met in a kiss, as if on their own accord. Why does the image of Hania on a bike seem like some sort of an 18+ fantasy for me? 

She pulled apart, gasping for air. "There's another surprise for you." She walked over to the side of the garage and grabbed a bag from an electronics store, handing it over to me.

"What is this?" I asked, curiously.

"If you look inside, you won't have to ask me." She rolled her eyes.

"Ha ha, hilarious." I reached into the bag and pulled out a box. "Whoa."

It was a camera. I have seen, and I own much better cameras, truly professional ones, but I have no doubt that this one was going to be my favourite. My Hania had gifted it to me.

"I know that for a photographer, this is probably like a toy..." She looked embarrassed.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "This is the best gift I've ever received in my entire existence, apart from the gift that Allah has blessed me with by creating you."

Her eyes widened, and she looked overwhelmed with emotions at my words. "Hamza..." 

"How about we start this off the right way?" I asked, opening the box and taking the camera out. There was a USB cable along with it to charge the battery, and I took the camera out, loving the feel of the small device in my palm. I turned it on and noticed that there were cameras on both sides, so that it was easy to take selfies. Every device capable of taking photos seemed to cater to selfies these days. I switched on the selfie mode and held up the camera, wrapping my free arm around her. "Perfect." I whispered as I took the photo.

"Hamza." She snuggled up closer to me. "I missed you so much the last few days."

"I missed you too."

We stayed in each other's arms for a while, before she pulled away. "I have to go home. I promised to have a Girls Day Out with Mama and Iman."

"Iman is forgiven?" I asked.

"Well...no, but Mama wouldn't feel right by not taking her along." She smiled fondly. 

"How about you ditch Girls Day and act like a rebel for once and spend time with me? We could seriously get up to no good." I teased. I was joking of course. I knew how much family time meant to her, and I would never take it away from her.

"Shush!" She shoved me back lightly, and I laughed.

"I love you, you perfect girl." I hugged her tightly, actually feeling real relief at her presence. I now knew how it felt to be able to handle any situation with the right partner at your side.

She didn't reply, but her arms around me tightened. "Let's go out tomorrow."

"Where?"

"I want to show you Hania's world." She looked almost shy as she said it. "My former schools, where Iman and I used to go to the park with Mama, and other places."

"I would love to see Hania's world." I pecked her lips, amused by her cuteness.

****

I had picked Hania up from her parents' house the next day, and she guided me as we rode around on my motorcycle, showing me all the important places of her childhood and teenage years.

Eventually, we got to the park that she and Iman used to love, and we sat on a grassy hill, overlooking the immaculate family friendly area. I saw the fenced off swings' area on one side, and a cobblestone path led to various areas of the park, including a large grassy field and a small lake, where ducks floated around as kids watched them in excitement. 

****

Hania

Hamza lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, resting his free arm over my legs as I sat there, enjoying the warmish day. I played with the sleeve of his soft shirt, looking up at the sky.

"On the swings, Iman and I used to pretend that we were going to fly off, and shoot up right into space." I said, nostalgically. "Being creative, I used to take things further, where I imagined floating around close to the stars and befriending aliens."

"All from a swing?" He looked amused.

"Papa used to say that the mind of a writer is very powerful. I used to go home and narrate all those stories to him when he came home from work. He used to be exhausted, but I was too young to know better, and I just kept on telling stories, and he kept on listening patiently."

"I'm sure he would have loved hearing all those stories."

"Yeah, he said that he did. Mama often told me to let him rest, but I was stubborn and Papa told her to let me stay. He said that his family took away all his exhaustion."

"Yeah, I get that. I remember how Papa always made time to play video games with me, no matter what. He said that he loved spending time with me." He looked a little sad.

"Hamza, why is Aunty so...not motherly with you?" I wanted to say 'mean', 'cruel' or 'awful', but I chose my words carefully. She was still his mother. She was still the one who brought him into the world, and for that I'd always be grateful.

He lay down on his back and didn't reply for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." I crossed my legs and turned to face him directly.

"Mum used to be a model." He spoke as if he was speaking to himself. "And she was seriously successful. She was married off to Papa, with her full consent. She thought he was good looking and wealthy, and that she would be happy with him. It was fine, but then she was offered a role in a seriously major movie, but then she found out that she was pregnant, and they dropped her because by the time filming would have started, she would have been showing, and that wouldn't have suited the character that she was playing. Her career meant the world to her, Han, even more than I did, and she never got over losing that role, which eventually led to the end of her career. She stopped getting offers, and she was especially furious because the actress who got the role was a newbie and achieved instant stardom after that."

"How is existing your fault?" I shook my head, feeling anger and disgust at my mother-in-law.

He sat up, looking at me. "Han, this is a pretty personal matter, so I'd rather that you keep it to yourself, okay?"

"I will, don't worry." I reached out to pull some grass from his hair. "Thank you for trusting me with this."

"You're my wife, Han. If I can't trust you, who can I trust?"

We held hands, smiling at each other. I couldn't wait to confess my feelings for him

****

Iman

"Miss, are you okay?"

I felt a bright light in my eye, and the hardness of the ground beneath me. Something soft cushioned my head. "W-What?"

"Miss?" 

I finally opened my eyes to see concerned paramedics staring down at me. I struggled to understand what was going on. I had been heading home after exploring my new campus, when I'd felt dizzy. I'd realised that I'd only had a croissant and three cups of coffee the whole day. I must have fainted. I suffered from anaemia which often caused dizziness and weakness, but I'd never fainted before. Well, I had been forgetting to take my iron medication as well, despite Mama's constant reminders. Each time she told me, I told her 'okay', but then forgot about them. I explained my situation to the paramedics and they wanted me to come to the hospital, just to rule out any concerning and underlying issues, apart from iron deficiency. I opened my mouth to refuse, but I figured that for once I'd do the responsible thing, so I agreed to go.

****

The phone kept ringing at the other end and I felt nervous. This was pointless. I had messed up too much for forgiveness.

"Assalam Alaikum, Iman." Papa's answered. 

"Walaikum Assalam." I swallowed hard. 

"Where are you? Your mother has been trying your phone for a while, wondering where you are." He kept his tone formal, but I knew that he was genuinely concerned. Of course he was, he was a parent, and no matter how much we screwed up, our parents never stopped worrying about us.

"Papa, actually..." I paused, wondering how to tell him. "I'm at the hospital and have been asked to stay here overnight."

"What?!" Now that hidden concern was obvious. "Why? What happened?"

"I fainted, and after they'd taken my blood test and were about to let me go, I got dizzy again, so now they're keeping me here for observation."

"Have you been eating properly? Have you been skipping your iron tablets?"

"No and yes."

"Iman!" He sounded weary.

"There has just been too much going on in my life right now, and it's all too much to handle." 

He was silent for a few seconds. "Are you at St Michael's or somewhere else? I'll be there soon." 

I gave him the hospital name and we spoke for a while, and I told him to calmly tell Mama and handle her. We had to tell her because there was no other reason to explain my absence overnight. When I started feeling sleepy, I said goodnight to him and lay back in the hospital bed, listening to the soft voices of the nurses outside, which was reassuring because I was a little scared, being alone here and all.

****

When I woke up the next morning, my parents were sitting on the hard plastic chairs, clearly having been here the whole night. Mama had her head tilted back against the wall and was asleep, with a shawl wrapped around her, and Papa was having coffee, reading a newspaper. 

"You guys are here?" I whispered, tears appeared in my eyes.

He stood up immediately, setting aside the takeaway coffee cup and the newspaper and walking over to me. "You okay?" He stroked my forehead gently. "Of course we're here, Mani." 

"Mani!" Mama woke up with a gasp, and as she saw me awake, she rushed over. "Alhumdulillah! Meri bachi!" She leaned down to kiss my forehead, and I felt a tear drop onto my face. 

The nurse came in then to check my blood pressure, and my parents stepped back and waited patiently until she was done.

"At the moment her blood pressure is normal, but I will contact the doctor to come and speak to you." The nurse replied before excusing herself.

He nodded, understanding that it was procedure for the nurse to wait for the doctor to explain the patient's condition to the family or loved ones, and at times, to even the patient themselves. When the nurse left, Mama returned to my side and squeezed my hand. 

"Why did you guys come? I have disappointed you and hurt you so much." 

"Because nothing is more important than your health and safety." Mama replied. "You may not believe it, Iman, but nobody loves you more than we do, and we would never ignore your health no matter how angry we are."

"Were you both allowed to stay the night?" I was confused. Usually, that went against the hospital visitor rules.

"I've performed surgery here a few times, so I was allowed." Papa gave me a small smile.  "And I managed to convince them to let Mina in as well." 

"You used your doctor privileges?" I teased him. "Do they work here as well?"

He gave me a half smile. "I travel around the UK for surgeries, so yes, I got 'doctor privileges' in quite a few hospitals."

I felt flattered and grateful. "Thank you, Papa."

He kissed my forehead. "Despite everything, you're still our daughter. We'll never leave you alone in a situation like this."

Tears filled my eyes, as I once again felt ashamed. "I'm sorry for everything, Papa."

"I know, meri jaan." He sighed. "Let's not talk about that right now."

The doctor walked in then and he and Papa began to discuss my condition, while my mother remained at my side, staring at me like I had just come back from the brink of death or something. I glanced towards Papa and began to imagine myself standing there as a doctor in the future, In Sha Allah, discussing a patient's condition with my father. My dream come true, to work with my biggest inspiration.

Maybe to be in that position, I have to be like him: mature, responsible and fully focused on my education and career goals. He has told me about his dedication to his education, and sacrificing of a lot of social activities that got him here today.

I will be like him and I will make him and Mama proud. In Sha Allah.

****

"Iman Fawad, you are going to kill me one day!" It was now time for Mama to tell me off, now that the concern was over and done with. "How dare you put yourself in this situation?" The next moment she was crying. "Allah! If anything had happened to you..." She wrapped an arm around me as I sat on the bed, ready to go home.

"I'm sorry, Mama." I whispered.

"I'm going to be strictly monitoring your diet and your medication now." She said. "No more negligence, am I clear?" 

"Yes, Mama." I smiled.

Hania Appi was here as well now, and she stood by my bedside, enjoying the scene of Mama yelling at me.

Papa walked into the room. "Come on, we can take Mani home now." 

Oh, thank you, Allah! I hated staying at the hospital as a patient.

"Iman, I'm serious. If you ever miss your medicines again..." Papa didn't look happy.

"Don't worry, jaan. It's my duty now. I'll make sure that she has each and every one of her doses, right in front of me." Mama reassured him.

"And cook some liver for her as well. It's good for iron deficiency." Hani Appi smirked at me.

"Shut up!" I glared at her.

"Iman!" As if on instinct, my parents warned me in unison.

I laughed. It felt good, like old times. I was happy to have my family back with me.

****

Hania

I was going to confess myfeelings for him now. I couldn't wait any longer.

The morning after Iman was released from the hospital, Papa left for work early, and Mama and Iman slept in, so I sneaked out after messaging Mama quickly. I was still too shy to tell my family that I was going on a date, even with my own husband, so it was a relief that Papa was at work. I wore a long Pakistani dress with a light blue covered maxi with lightly done gold coloured embroidery, and a cream coloured layer underneath, along with a cream coloured pair of slim fitting shalwar and tan wedges. I curled my hair and pinned it back away from my face, before grabbing my bag and phone and heading out.

I had a driving licence, and although Papa had offered to buy a car that I could share with Iman, I had refused, much to Iman's annoyance. I was saving up my spending money and eventually I will buy a second hand car if needed. For now, I was happy with cabs and public transport. He would have bought one anyway, but because of Iman's careless driving, he changed his mind. Sometimes I couldn't help thinking that I would hate myself as well if I was Iman.

I took a cab to Hamza's house and when I got there, I found Rabia pacing around in the driveway, staring at her phone worriedly. "Assalam Alaikum, Rabia. Is everything okay?"

"Walaikum Assalam, Hania Bhabi." She bit her lip, seeming unsure whether to talk to me or not.

"Are you okay?" I was genuinely concerned for her.

She glanced over her shoulder, towards the house and then back at me. "Look, Bhabi, I'm going to tell you a secret that I don't want anyone else to know, so please keep it to yourself."

"Even Hamza?" That worried me. How could I hide things from him? He was my husband.

"Bhai actually knows a little bit already. Can I trust you?" 

She was like a little sister to Hamza and she was clearly worried. Maybe I could help her in some way? "Of course you can."

She sighed. "Your cousin Ismael and I exchanged numbers at your Nikah. We've been talking since, and we've both decided that we want to get married. We want our relationship to continue the right way." 

I blinked at her, completely shocked by this unexpected news. "You and Ismael...? Arhaan Mamu's son?!"

She nodded. "I'm flying to Lahore tonight."

"Rabia!" I gasped. "Does Uncle know about this plan? Hamza?"

She shook her head and she looked pale with anxiety. "Daniyal Mamu won't agree because Ismael is too young. He wanted me to marry someone a little older, with a stable job. Ismael is a good guy, he prays five times a day and he is very respectful, but he's not even twenty-two, and he's only a student, regardless of the fact that he is studying to be a doctor." 

"Rabia, Ismael is like a brother to me, and we are quite good friends." I spoke gently. Even though he has failed to mention this to me! "But, Uncle wouldn't be wrong to be worried. Ismael is just a student right now."

"We like each other, Bhabi. And we want to make this halal."

"Then talk to Uncle, and ask him to talk to his parents." I insisted. "Maybe you might have to wait a few years, but at least..."

She shook her head. "We want this now."

"Rabia, this would hurt everyone if you go behind their backs!" I was worried about the consequences of this impulsive decision. "Don't do it, don't go behind Uncle's back like that. Doing something without the approval of your elders, or behind their backs, deprives you of the barkat." 

*Barkat: blessings.

Rabia looked thoughtful as she pondered upon my words.

"Hania?" Hamza jogged up to me from towards the house. "What a surprise!" He kissed my cheek, then glanced at Rabia. "Is everything okay?"

I looked at Rabia pointedly, encouraging her to tell Hamza at least, and she seemed to agree after considering things for a few moments.

"Hamza Bhai, there's something that I want to tell you." She began.

****

Like me, Hamza also told her to talk to Uncle. He said that he would help convince him, as would I, but Rabia shouldn't do anything behind his back. 

And so, the three of us ended up in Uncle's office, ready to break this news to him.

"Papa, Rabia wants to marry Ismael." Hamza certainly didn't beat around the bush.

Uncle looked surprised. "What? Who's Ismael, and how did this happen so suddenly?" 

Rabia explained how she and Ismael had been messaging back and forth since mine and Hamza's Nikah. She also told him that Ismael was my Arhaan Mamu's son, so from a very good family.

Uncle took off his glasses, sighing. "Why are you kids always acting like your elders are unnecessary in your life? We would never take such major decisions without consulting our elders, and you all just come and announce what you intend to do, without respecting our opinions or advice." 

Rabia looked like she felt guilty. "I'm very sorry, Mamu." 

"What does Ismael do?" Uncle directed this question towards me.

"He's a student, studying to be a doctor." I replied. 

"He's still studying." Uncle pursed his lips together. "And you want to get married now, Rabia?" 

Rabia nodded.

Uncle stood up. "I suppose I can speak to Dr Arhaan Sheikh." He looked at Hamza. "I had business in Lahore anyway. Come with me, Hamza. We'll talk to the Sheikh family then. As much as I would have preferred a well-settled man for Rabia, later in the future, if she wants to do this the halal way, I will support her." 

****

"What are you doing, you weirdo?" I rolled my eyes. "Can't you even pack like an adult?" I sighed. "Think about what you need carefully, rather than packing anything."

"What are you talking about? It's all completely reasonable!" He insisted.

"It's September in Lahore, not December in Canada!" I held up a very thick sweater.  

I was watching as Hamza pack his clothes for their family trip to Lahore.

He gave me a heart-stopping smile, looking slightly embarrassed. "You want to help me out, Mrs Hamza?"

"Nope." I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him in amusement. "I want you to figure this out for yourself. You're not six, you can't always depend on others to do the work for you."

"I feel the pain of our future children." Grinning, he studied the contents of his backpack, before emptying it all out.

I blushed at his comment, but acted nonchalant. I walked around the room, noticing that it looked quite...empty. "It almost looks like you don't live here anymore."

"I don't. I've moved most of my stuff to our new flat. I just haven't taken all my clothes yet. All my Pakistan wear is still here."

"You've moved in already?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I wanted to make that place feel like home to you by the time you moved in, so I've been redecorating a little."

I smiled to myself, turning my back to him. He worked silently for a while, occasionally muttering about what he needed or what could be left behind.

"Done!" He said loudly, sounding proud of himself.

"Very good. You want a gold star?" I teased him.

"Well, I do want some sort of reward." He winked at me.

"Hamza, behave."

"Do you know how gorgeous you look right now, Hania Hamza?" He slowly began to walk towards me. "Ma Sha Allah."

"Behave!" I squealed, running out of the room. I really didn't want romance in his bedroom. I didn't know if either of us would be able to control ourselves.

I was barely out of the door when he caught me and pulled me back inside, closing the door. "Who did you get all dressed up for?"

"You, of course!" I tried to shove him away playfully, but he was too strong as he pinned me against the door. I thought about how his bare biceps would look and I smiled to myself.

"What are you smiling about?" He rested his forehead against mine, his voice husky.

"At the thought of that sweater you were just about to pack." I giggled, relieved that I had an excuse.

"Are you laughing at your husband, Han?" His lips were very close to mine, but he held back, intentionally tormenting me, apparently.

"It's a laughing matter when husband behave like kids."

He gripped my waist and pulled me closer and closer until we...

"Hamza!" Daniyal Uncle's voice was followed by an urgent knock and I stifled another giggle.

Hamza jumped back as if Uncle was actually inside the room, and I had to stuff my dupatta into my mouth to stop myself from bursting out laughing. I'm not kidding.

But then Hamza pointed out the obvious. "I won't be the only one caught, babe."

And then I was blushing again. How did my body cope with the blood repeatedly rushing up to my face?

"Go into the en-suite bathroom." He whispered into my ear and I immediately ran, hearing my guy chuckle behind me.

I closed the bathroom door lightly, smiling like a weirdo. I love you so much, Hamza. I wish I could just blurt it out, but I want it to feel right.

I heard the mumble of their conversation, but I couldn't clearly understand the words. All I heard was the world 'Lahore'. 

To my horror, I realised that I'd left my bag on Hamza's bed. Oops.

I can't believe that I'm hiding in here like a forbidden girlfriend.

I couldn't stop laughing, pressing both my hands over my mouth. Hamza had really changed me, and I was liking these changes within myself.

****

When will Hania confess her feelings?

Would Ismael and Rabia get married, or would Ismael's biological mother (and all of your favourite character) cause drama?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!