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*

Jasmina

When I'd arrived in London to start my university education, I was an excited nineteen-year-old, carefree girl with dreams of writing and travelling the world. It had formed a seed of wanderlust inside me that ha remained with me till this date. At that point in my life, I'd felt like London was just the beginning; I wanted to see the world! I'd been on many international holidays with my family, but it's different when you're a kid, and it's different when you're old enough to understand the history, the culture ,and the traditions of the various new places you explore.

Now, as I arrived at Heathrow Airport, I felt not even one percent of the excitement that Jasmina Sheikh had felt five years ago. All I was concerned about was getting my work done and returning home.

Home. I closed my eyes and the first place I envisioned was the flat that I shared with my husband. My bank appointment was the next day, and my return flight was two days after that.

In the Arrivals waiting area, I quickly messaged Fawad.

<Jasmina: I've arrived safely. Alhumdulillah.>

The hotel I was staying at was not too far from the airport, taking around fifteen minutes to reach by taxi, a little longer thanks to the heavy traffic while exiting the airport area. I'd made an appointment at a branch of the bank closest to the airport, so it was relatively easy for me to travel around.

After I'd checked into my hotel room and settled in, I called Elena. "Hey, I've arrived."

"You should have given me your flight details, babe! I could have come to pick you up!" She sounded excited. "I can't wait to see you." 

"We'll catch up tomorrow. Today, I just want to sleep." I yawned as I sat back in bed, leaning against the headboard. "How are you, Brett and little Belle?" 

"We're all great. And yes, definitely; we'll meet tomorrow. Let me know where you want to meet. Or you can come by my house?" 

"I have an appointment with the bank near the airport tomorrow, and your house is on the other side of the city. Maybe we can meet somewhere halfway?" 

"Sure. I'll let you know. It'll be great to catch up, Jas. It's been too long." 

"Yeah, it has." I sighed, thinking back to our university days. If only Jibril Naveed hadn't been a part of our group... He tainted the memories of university that I shared with Elena. 

I knew that Elena missed those days as well, but I had no idea that she also badly missed Jibril. She made another naïve mistake that was going to cause more trouble in my life.

*

After my bank work was completed the next day, I took the bus to a nearby high street, where Elena and I had arranged to meet up for lunch. I was genuinely looking forward to meeting up with her and taking a walk down memory lane (excluding the parts of Jibril, of course).

Wearing black skinny jeans, a black blazer style jacket with tiny pink and purple flowers, and a plain pink shirt, I had braided my hair and slipped into a pair of comfortable black wedge sandals. Wearing sunglasses, I walked through the sunlit cobbled high street. Trees lined at intervals in the centre provided cool shade from the warm sunlight. Benches were placed underneath those trees, filled with various shoppers, mostly elderly ones who seemed to be enjoying a day out. While the shops weren't busy, the cafés and fast-food restaurants nearby were crowded as it was lunchtime.

Finally, I spotted the sign for the restaurant where Elena and I were meeting, and I smiled as I approached the entrance.

"Jas!"

I turned my head as I heard the familiar voice, briefly glancing around in the direction of her voice.

My smile disappeared and my heart almost stopped.

Elena wasn't alone.

She was with a very familiar man, someone I never wanted to see again.

"Just promise me one thing, please." Fawad had said. "No further contact with Jibril Naveed. He should be non-existent in our lives... We're married now, and I don't have any more tolerance for that piece of garbage. You will not meet him if you respect me and our relationship." This was the first time he had asked me to promise him something, and I had made that promise.

I glanced at Elena, betrayed. When is she going to learn?!

She looked sheepish as she walked over to me. "Jas, I thought we could have a reunion and clear the air." She gave me a hug. "I'm so glad to see you."

I didn't hug her back. "Clear the air? Do you remember what he did?" 

She pulled away. "You're married to Fawad now! Let's just put everything behind us. Jibril wants to apologise to you."

Speak of the devil, and he walked over. His hair was in a man bun, and he had grown a light beard. "Hey, Jas." His eyes sparkled with genuine happiness, and he kept staring at me in a way that made me very uncomfortable.

"No further contact with Jibril Naveed."

"...promise me."

"You should not have done this, Elena." I looked at her, incredibly annoyed.

"Don't be mad at her. Her heart was in the right place." Jibril is the one who replied. "Jas, I love you. I screwed up. But it's always been me for you. That's why you decided not to go ahead with marrying the doctor back then!"

The audacity of this man! The right thing to do would have been to walk away without further conversation to either of them. Maybe that would still have protected the promise that I had made to my husband. I, however, let my anger get the best of me. "No. I screwed up back then. The truth is that it's always been him for me, and I just didn't realise it then because I was too naïve to understand my feelings." I paused. "What you did to me almost ruined my life, so don't you dare pretend that you ever loved me! That's not love."

"I regret what I did, but it doesn't change the fact that I genuinely love you." His gaze roamed over my face, making me want to scratch his eyes off. "You're beautiful, sweet, kind and perfect. I lost out on someone so amazing." 

"'Lost out' implies that you ever had a chance with me. You never did, Jibril." I shook my head. "And I found someone who genuinely loves me, and who I love back with the same intensity."

The same man who's probably going to divorce me for this. Get away from Jibril, Jasmina. You're breaking the promise.

"Jas, can you not give me another chance?" He gave me the puppy dog eyes.

"Are you high on something? I'm married!" My voice rose, gaining attention. "Marriage may not mean anything to you, but it's everything to me. I'm in it for life!" Once again, until Fawad divorces me for this. I turned to Elena. "You really shouldn't have done this, Elena. How many times will you create problems for me?" 

She looked ashamed. "Trust me, Jas, I had no idea that he was going to say all this crap..."

"Just out of curiosity, how will he feel about the fact that you met me?" He raised an eyebrow, as if he already knew the answer.

"Firstly, I was tricked into meeting you. And secondly, that's none of your business." 

"I'm a guy, and I know how I would have felt if I was in his position." He looked smug. "My wife goes to meet the ex who she previously had a crush on. Hmmm..."

I glared at Elena again, before turning back to face him. "Stay out of my life. If you ever try to contact me again, Jibril Naveed, I will report you to the police for stalking." I turned back to my so-called friend again. "I can't believe you did this. You should have known better."

I should have walked away the moment I'd seen Jibril. I should not have had a conversation with him, because now I'd broken the promise that I'd made to Fawad. He'd only asked me for one thing, and I couldn't even do that for him.

Because of Elena's silly actions, added to my own stupidity, I had put my own marriage at risk.

Fawad isn't going to forgive me for this.

*

Fawad

"Everything okay?" I asked, entering the living room of my parents' house.

My parents had called me in there, and I saw that my sister was already there, looking down at the ground as she sat facing Ammi and Papa. Bisma Khalla was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

"Close the door." Papa instructed me.

"Ali..." Ammi sighed.

"This is a family meeting, Fatima."  Papa hadn't been happy with her since the daal incident with Mina, and had been barely speaking to my mother. He looked at me and I noticed that he looked much older than he was. "Fawad, Fariha is filing for divorce, for khula."

"I'm glad." I took a seat next to Fari, patting her head. "I'm sorry that things had to come to this, and that your marriage didn't work out, Fari, but you deserve to be free from him after everything he and his family had done."

"Fawad, divorce is serious. Don't encourage her." My mother glared at me.

"What do you want me to say?" I shrugged. "Stay married to that prick who's only with her for the money? Ammi, he cheats on her, lets his family bully his own sons, him and his entire family scrounges off Fari, and they're all nothing but horrible to her!" 

"Fari will not stay married to him." Papa added. "We've raised our daughter better than to tolerate any forms of abuse. And that environment is toxic for the kids."

"Also, he can't just show up demanding to see the kids when he probably doesn't even know their birthdays! He has done nothing for Omar and Saad, even while they were living there." I glanced at Fariha as I spoke. She looked broken, and I know that despite the relief of ending this burdening relationship, her heart was also shattering. After all, she had genuinely loved him.

"Papa, contact the lawyer you were telling me about." My sister spoke up, softly. "And I don't want Umair to have any sort of contact with my sons. He should only be able to see them in my presence. They will not be stepping foot in that house again!" 

They began discussing the lawyer, when my phone buzzed, indicating a message. I glanced at the screen quickly and saw a message from my wife.

<Mina: We need to talk.>

I frowned. That sentence was often considered a worrying sentence in a relationship. "If you guys excuse me, we'll talk more in the morning, In Sha Allah." I got up and left before anyone stopped me again. I dialled Mina's number as I walked up the stairs.

"Assalam Alaikum." She answered almost immediately.

"Walaikum Assalam." I entered my bedroom and closed the door behind myself. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, Fawad..." She sounded worried. She paused for a few seconds, and I heard her breathing in and out as if calming herself down. "I met Jibril." 

I froze in my steps as I walked to the bed. "You what?"

"Well, technically, Elena tricked me. She wanted us to clear the air, but I didn't walk away when I first saw him, like I should have." She explained the whole scenario to me. 

"You promised me." I spoke quietly.

"Fawad, I didn't contact him directly. I just didn't walk away when I should have. And Elena was there, and..."

I had no idea whether to drop this subject here or to make a huge issues out of it. There were too many issues going on in my family right now. My mind was all over the place.

"Say something." Her voice was just as low. "You've been quiet for too long." 

"I don't know what to say, Jasmina. No matter what loopholes you find to justify yourself, the promise was broken the moment you chose not to walk away, and to interact with him." I closed my eyes, feeling a headache build up at my temples. "It was the one thing that I asked for, Mina. It was the one condition that my mother set out when agreeing to our marriage: Jibril was to be cut off completely from your life, never to be mentioned again. I get that Elena tricked you, but you should have walked away."

"I know. I lost control when I got angry. I'm so, so sorry, Fawad." She sounded tearful. "Please don't divorce me." 

I almost chuckled at the adorably innocent way she said that last sentence. "I'm not going to divorce you, but I'm disappointed, Mina. I trusted you." I ended the call, not having the patience to discuss this any further.

I had no idea then about the storm that was rapidly brewing, and I wish I could have done something to prevent it.

*

"Fawad!" Ammi banged on my door the next morning.

What the hell?

"What's going on, Ammi?" I groaned, sleepily raising my head up from the pillow.

"Come here." She didn't open the door, but I could tell that she was outside as I saw her shadow under the door, moving back and forth as if she was pacing.

I got out of bed and pulled on a shirt, before walking over to the door with a yawn. "What's going on?" 

She looked furious as she looked at me.

"What did I do to deserve that look?" I asked, wearily.

She held up her phone and I blinked a few times to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I focused on the screen with one eye, as I tried to adjust to the brightness of the hall.

There was a photo of Jasmina, standing outside a restaurant with Elena and Jibril as he stared at my wife adoringly. Underneath was the caption: 'Son of Former MP Naveed spotted in public after exile.'

Jibril Naveed was the son of a British MP who had to resign after it was discovered that he had been scrounging public funds, using the money to renovate his mansion which was worth millions. And because Jibril was a public figure, thanks to his father, even the smallest things he did would be reported in the media/social media.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Ammi snapped. "If I'm not mistaken, this is my bahu, isn't it?" 

Oh, for the love of... why is this my life? "It's not what it looks like, Ammi."

"She's on a date... with that boy!" She was spitting fire as she spoke.

"How is this a date when her friend Elena is there? And... she told me about this already." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling like I was a teenager getting in trouble for something that I'd done at school.

"She told you about this?!" Ammi was livid. "And you're just standing here casually, without a care in the world, while your wife is meeting that boy in London? What about the one condition that I put forward to allow you to marry her? She was supposed to cut Jibril out of her life! Hasn't our family faced enough shame because of her?!"

"Ammi, this wasn't her fault. She was just..."

"She was meeting her ex while her naïve husband is all the way across the world!" Ammi paid no attention to me. "I was just wondering why she headed back in such a rush! I knew that you marrying Jasmina Sheikh was a terrible idea after what she caused! For over three years, she lived in London alone, with nobody chaperoning her!" 

"I trust her, Ammi." I wanted her to stop before she said something that even she would regret later. "She would never cross her cultural or religious limits. She's loyal to me."

It was only then that I noticed Bisma Khalla standing down the hall, listening in on every word spoken between me and Ammi. Dammit!

"Jasmina is my wife, Ammi. I trust her, and that should be enough."

"She's a shameless, limitless girl who..." Ammi began to say.

"Stop right there, Ammi." I spoke from between gritted teeth. "I won't stand here and listen to you maligning my wife's character like that. Falsely accusing the character of an innocent person is a huge sin." 

"She's not ever stepping into this house again." Ammi said, firmly.

I was stunned into speechlessness. "Are you serious?" 

"I don't care where you take her, but she's not coming back in my house."

"Ammi, she's your daughter-in-law, my wife. You can't do this to her." 

Khalla walked over. "Are you saying that his wife is a characterless girl? You knew about it and you married your only son off to her?" 

Furiously, I went back into my room and slammed the door shut so hard that the windows rattled.

Ya Allah, what a mess!

*

Jasmina

My phone started ringing, causing me to jump awake.

Hoping it was Fawad, I reached for it, but then saw my mother-in-law's name on the caller ID. Allah, what now? "Assalam Alaikum, Aunty." I answered, nervously.

"So, this is what you've been doing in London, in your husband's absence?" She snapped. "Seeing that boy?"

How did she know? Fawad would never have told her, or anyone. He's not like that.

"It's all over the tabloids and social media!" She seemed to have read my mind. "What do you want, Jasmina? Do you want to stay married to my son or not? You can't seem to make up your mind about who you want to be with!"

Tears filled my eyes, and one rolled down my cheek. "Aunty, I saw him, but I didn't plan this."

"Why did you meet him?" She sounded enraged. 

I got out of bed, feeling nauseated with anxiety. "My friend Elena invited him along for a lunch that I'd planned only with her. I didn't know about it, I promise!"

"You've publicly humiliated yourself and our family! I've been receiving phone calls from friends an acquaintances, asking about whether there's a problem in Fawad's marriage already."

"Ammi, I..."

"Don't call me that!" Her voice was filled with hatred. "I've told Fawad, and I'm telling you now. You're not welcome back in our family home ever again. Obviously, my son is too blinded by your false love to leave you, but you are not to enter my house ever again. You promised me that you had nothing to do with that boy, and you asked me to trust you. You are a manipulative liar, Jasmina. I should never have trusted you!" With that, she ended the call.

I couldn't stop crying after the phone call. What have I done? Why didn't I just walk away? One stupid mistake from my part has caused so much damage in my life!

*

"I feel so alone, Hafsa." I sat on the floor, leaning against the hotel bed as I spoke to my best friend on the phone. "If I don't talk to you now, my heart will burst."

"Oh, Jazz. I'm so sorry that you ended up in such a situation, yaar." Her voice was fille with sympathy.

"My in-laws had faced so much humiliation, and I still didn't learn my lesson." I sobbed. "I should have left immediately, Hafsa. I not only broke my promise to Fawad, who trusted me blindly, but I caused more humiliation to my in-laws." 

"This isn't your fault, Jazz. This is on Elena, I'm sorry to say. She invited him without your knowledge, even after everything that'd happened before." 

"Fawad mujhe kabhi maaf nahin kareinge, Hafsa." I cried harder at the thought of that.

*"Fawad will never forgive me, Hafsa."

"Yaar, duniya main agar koi aisa shohar hai jo is is mamlay main apni biwi ko samjhe ga, uska bharosa karega, woh hain Fawad Bhai." She reassured me. "He trusts you unconditionally, Jazz, and you have earned that trust, babe."

*"If there's a husband in the world who would understand his wife in this matter, who would trust her, it's Fawad Bhai."

"What did I do, Hafsa?" I continued blabbing on. "I ruined my marriage because of my stupidity! What's wrong with me?!"

"Jazz, you got stuck in circumstances that were beyond your control. Yeah, maybe you slipped up by continuing to speak to him, but he provoked you. You are not at fault here, babe."

No matter how much Hafsa reassured me, I was not convinced. "I want to speak to Fawad in person, Hafsa. I've created a huge mess for myself and him, but I want him to reassure me that I'm faultless in this. Unless he does, I won't be convinced otherwise."

"He will. You'll see. He trusts you, and he will support you." 

"How long will he support me? And what about my mother-in-law? She hates me, Hafsa, and I can't even blame her! I know how this all looks and seems." 

"I'm going to give you some bitter medication, babe, but know that like other medication, it's for your own good. If Fawad Bhai is upset right now, he has a right to be. And, as for his mother, you can see her side of things very well, Jazz. Jibril destroyed your first attempt at marriage with Fawad, and he did it publicly. Of course, Aunty is angry about all this. I can tell that she's a very overprotective mother. I know that her behaviour is a little unreasonable, but look at the reasoning behind it." 

I listened to her words, knowing that she was trying to make me understand, and not blaming me. A best friend needed to point out bitter truths sometimes, and there was no doubt about that.

"Put yourself in their shoes briefly, but give them time and space. When things cool down, speak to Aunty, okay? But before that, speak to Fawad Bhai. When you know that he's supporting you, that he trusts you, he'll help you sort things out with his mother, In Sha Allah." 

"I love you, you know that, Hafsa? Thank you for not hating me the way I hate myself right now."

"You're a good person, Jazz. You have a beautiful heart. To err is to human, you know that. In Sha Allah, things will calm down, and Allah will place forgiveness in the heart of Fatima Aunty. You have such good intentions, Jazz, that I just know that ultimately, only good will happen with you." 

To hear something positive about myself made me cry harder.

"Stop crying, pagal." She sounded worried. "Mujhe be rolaogi tum. Fawad Bhai tumse bohat mohabbat kartein hain, more than anything in this universe. He'll come around. Aur jab tak tumhare shohar tumhare saath hain, tumhain unki family ki fikar karne ki koi zaroorat nahin. You both can handle them together."

*"You'll make me cry too. Fawad Bhai loves you a lot..."
"And until your husband supports you, you don't need to worry about his family." 

"Woh mujhpe bharosa karte hain, Hafsa. Bas, thoday mayoos hain ke maine waada toda."

*"He trusts me, Hafsa. He's just a disappointed that I broke the promise."

I would be as well, if he met up with Laiba or something, despite promising me that he wouldn't. In fact, I would have thrown a fit and left for my parents' house immediately without hearing him out, knowing the sort of oversensitive and overemotional person that I was.

I groaned, miserably. "I'm an awful person, Hafsa." 

*

The whole day and night I kept worrying that my mother-in-law would poison my husband's mind against me. I kept imagining scenarios from desi dramas where he wouldn't let me enter the house, and then divorce me and then marry someone else.

I woke up the next morning, feeling like an elephant had been sitting on my body the entire night. My muscles ached terribly, my head hurt, and judging from my body heat under the covers, I could tell that I had a fever even without touching my skin. I sat up shivering, wrapping the blanket tightly around myself.

Using the kettle set in the hotel room, I made myself a cup of tea, and grabbed a croissant from a packet that I'd bought from a local supermarket. I ate my breakfast in my room, too tired to go downstairs to the dining hall for the complimentary hotel breakfast.

Later, as I lay on the bed watching TV, Elena called. She had been calling me and messaging me since yesterday, but I'd been in no mood to answer. 

"What is it, Elena?" I answered, sounding irritated to even my own ears.

"Jas, please forgive me. I'm an idiot, but I have been feeling guilty since yesterday." She sounded like she was in tears. "I never meant..."

"You never mean to do things, yet they happen. You don't want to understand my culture, or you just don't care enough about it to respect it. Either way, your mistakes have been costing me a lot. I admit, I'm not completely innocent in this, but this time it has impacted my marriage."

"Jas..."

"I promised Fawad before I came here that I won't have any contact with Jibril."

"I didn't know that, Jasmina. I messed up."

"There was never a reason for you to invite him, Elena, especially after everything that had happened. And until you understand that, I don't know if you can truly care about our friendship." 

"That's not true, babe, and you know it."

"This time, it has cost me too much, Elena." I sighed. "Bye." I ended the call.

I hate to lose a friend, but how can I be friends with someone who didn't understand me or my life? 

My head was now hurting so badly from the fever and the lack of sleep. I closed my eyes and curled up on the bed, slowly drifting off.

*

I woke up and felt extremely nauseated, causing me to run to the bathroom and throw up. My sleep had been ridden by taunts and disapproving glares of my mother-in-law, as well as images of divorce papers, causing my anxiety to rise to its peak.

I didn't want her to hate me. She was Fawad's mother, and even if she didn't love me, she should at least have a neutral opinion of me. I didn't like the thought of her not trusting me to remain loyal to the man that I would, in reality, give my life up for.

How did I end up in a situation like this? I just had a tiny, harmless crush! I didn't act upon it, nor did I behave in a way that crossed into the concept of Zina. My Allah knows that my heart was pure regarding that.

There's a reason why there's no concept of a non-mehram male/female friendship in Islam. A voice in my head reminded me, adding to the stew of self-loathing brewing inside my mind.

I felt physically drained, and I lifted my phone to see if I could postpone my flight ticket by a couple of days. I had no energy to get up and fly to Lahore tomorrow. I was shivering, and all I wanted was my mother. I buried myself deep underneath the duvet. Never had I ever felt as alone in my life, as I did at this time.

I just wished that as a woman, my mother-in-law could be more sympathetic towards me, more understanding. She knew that in our society, a girl's reputation was fragile, and she should know that a family should act as a support system for a girl, especially when she was innocent.

"No, Jasmina. You can't blame her for this. She's thinking as Fawad's mother, and to some extent, her doubts, her reasons to mistrust me are justified, even if untrue." I whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

I want Fawad. I want to be in his arms right now and cry till there are no tears left inside me. I grabbed my phone, wishing that I could express to him how much my heart was yearning for him right now. There were, however, not enough words in any language that could help me express that.

<Jasmina: Assalam Alaikum.>

I miss you. I sent him the Salaam message and set my phone aside, waiting to see if he would reply. I glanced towards my device, biting my lower lip. I wanted to call him and talk to him. I wanted his reassurance, and only his, that everything would be okay; that we would be okay. As my emotional need for him increased, I started openly sobbing to my heart's content. My phone vibrated and I lunged for it, as if it was clean water after hours of walking in the sun.

<Fawad: Walaikum Assalam. Are you okay?>

I miss you, Fawad. My face streaked with tears, I made up my mind that I was going to fly back home tomorrow. I wanted to reassure myself that he had not even a tiny speck of hatred in his heart for me. 

<Jasmina: Yes, I'm fine. My flight is tomorrow, In Sha Allah.>

<Fawad: Yes, I have your flight details. I'll be there, In Sha Allah.>

I smiled weakly. But as seconds ticked by, I realised that I had no idea what to say to him. For once, I wasn't sure how to continue a conversation with him, and I hated this feeling.

My phone started ringing. Although it was on silent, his name appeared on the screen, with the options to either answer or decline the call. My thumb hovered over the answer button briefly before I finally swiped it. "Hello?" 

"You aren't usually this quiet. What's wrong?" 

"Quiet? I've just been messaging you." I frowned, confused.

"Yes, but usually I'm being bombarded with messages from you. Today, you sounded formal and distant." He spoke quietly, and I could hear noises in the background, as if he was at the hospital.

"Are you at work?" I changed the topic.

"I am. Just having a coffee break, but you didn't answer my question, Mina. What's wrong?"

"What do you think is wrong?" I spoke slowly so that my voice wouldn't break as I spoke. "I've unintentionally started a fire, and now I'm burning in the flames myself." 

"Mina...you didn't do anything wrong." He said so firmly that it startled me.

"I..." 

"No." He interrupted me. "You're being harshly punished for a minor error on your part, and it's not fair."

"Fawad..." 

"No matter what happens, I'm with you, Mina, because I know your intentions and your loyalty towards me." 

A dam inside me broke hearing his words, and I started crying with relief now. Having a supportive husband was an incredible blessing, and I was one of the luckiest wives in the world in that matter. Alhumdulillah.

"Don't cry, Mina. We will deal with this together when you get back, In Sha Allah."

"What about Aunty?" 

"Don't worry about her. Papa and I will talk to her." 

I felt reassured now, and my anxiety decreased. "Fawad, what would I even do without you? You have been an incredible support." 

"Mina, remember that I will always support you as long as you're in the right. That's what spouses do." His voice was calm and gentle, and it soothed the inner conflict within the depths of my soul. "Come back to me, In Sha Allah, and we'll deal with this." 

And I knew, without any reasonable doubt, that Fawad Ali meant every word that he was saying.

*

Lahore Airport was buzzing with people as usual. And, as usual, more than the passengers, there were double the people waiting to greet their loved ones in arrivals.

Despite my anxieties, I had a sense of excitement at coming home, and I wanted to run through the crowds like a filmy heroine and jump into my hero's arms. I, however, remained calm and collected like a married girl that I was.

I grabbed my bag and since it wasn't a large piece of luggage, I dragged it through the crowd without grabbing a trolley, and therefore not requiring the assistance of a porter.

I hope Fawad is here. He said he'd be here, but if there was an emergency at the hospital, he would have asked the family driver to pick me up.

"Mina!" 

I turned and almost bumped into an aunty who had a floral necklace around her neck, as if she was returning from an Umrah trip. I stepped back to stop her from walking over my toes, and then stood on my tiptoes looking for Fawad. It was definitely his voice and my name that I'd heard... right? Normally, it wasn't hard to spot him in a crowd, thanks to his height (Ma Sha Allah), but I was on the short side, and in the crowd of people around me, all I could see were faces of strangers.

"Fawad!" I called out, starting to feel claustrophobic in this crowd. Where is he?

My phone rang and I rummaged through my bag to pull it out. The phone almost slipped from my hand in the rush. "Fawad?" I answered breathlessly.

"Kahan ho, yaar?" He asked. "Your flight landed a long time ago."

*"Where are you?" 

"Didn't you just call out to me?" I was confused.

"You miss me so much that you're hearing my voice?" He sounded amused.

"Fawad, aap kahan hain? Mujhe aap nazar nahin aarahe."

*"Fawad, where are you? I can't see you." 

"Laikin mujhe to aap band aankhon se bhi nazar aati hain." He chuckled.

*"But I can see you even with my eyes closed."

"Stop being a dork, aur batayein mujhe ke aap kahan hain."

*"...and tell me where you are."

"Aap ke dil main." He laughed.

*"I'm in your heart."

"Fawad, for Allah's sake!" Smiling, I shook my head, my cheeks warming up.

"Yeh muskurahat meri jaan le legi ek din."

*"This smile will take my life one day." 

"Fawad, aap..." I paused. "Wait. Aapko kaise pata ke main muskurarahi hoon?" I spun around in a full three-sixty circle, trying to find him, but I couldn't see him anywhere. "Fawad Ali, agar aap abhi mere saamne na aaye na to..."

*"How do you know that I'm smiling?"
"If you don't come in front of me right now..."

"To phir kya?" He seemed to be in a full teasing mood, which relaxed me a lot. In fact, it took away most of my anxieties and vanished them into thin air.

*"You'll what?"

"Chali jaaongi main." I walked around, looking for him.

*"I'll go away."

"Mere se dour kahan jayengi aap?" 

*"Where will you go, away from me?"

"I'm not telling you." I again spun in a full circle, trying to find my husband. "Fawad, I'm tired. Stop teasing me, yaar." When he didn't reply, I pulled my phone away from my ear and saw that the call had ended. I clicked on the recent call list to ensure that he had called and it hadn't just been my feverish delusion, but I saw his number at the top of my recent call list. "Dr Fawad Ali, you did not just hang up on me! I'm not happy with you."

"Lagta hai khoob papad bailne padainge biwi ko manane ke liye."

*"Seems like I'd have to work hard to pacify my wife."

I turned around, my heart skipping a beat at his familiar voice. There he stood, a few feet away, looking handsome and dashing (Ma Sha Allah) in black jeans, a navy-blue t-shirt which emphasised his biceps very well.

But his warm, amused grin disappeared the moment he caught a glimpse of my face. "Mina? Are you okay, jaan?" Concern filled his face as he strode towards me.

"I'm just tired, that's all." I muttered, sliding my arm through his. "Let's just go." 

He grabbed my luggage from me. "Wow. This is your luggage for barely four days?" 

"These are my essentials!" I protested, watching his biceps flex as he dragged the trolley. 

"Essentials." He chuckled. "Seriously, Mina?" 

"Anyway, it's good that it's heavy. I enjoy watching you working out."

"Ahad's right about you. You're mean." 

I giggled.

As we headed towards the car parking, I spoke. "Fawad, let's go to your parents' house, not our flat. I want to explain everything to them." 

"Mina, it's the middle of the night." He replied. "It's not the time to get into an argument. Let's just go home for now." 

"Fawad."

"We'll go tomorrow, In Sha Allah." He glanced down at me. "And don't be nervous. Papa and I will talk to her." 

"Does Ali Uncle believe me?" 

He smiled. "You're like a daughter to him, and he has a habit of defending his daughter all the time, so naturally, he'll take a stand for you. He promised me that he'll help me talk this out with Ammi."

Despite his reassurance, I was nervous. Facing Fatima Aunty was a test itself for me.

Ya Allah, please give me the strength to explain myself to my husband's parents!

*

I blankly sat at the dressing table, staring at my own reflections. The anxieties had returned in full force. 

Go to sleep. Get rest. No point in dwelling over this. 

We'd just prayed Fajr together, and I had endlessly thanked my Allah for giving me a husband like Fawad. I'd also begged Allah to give me the strength to face Fatima Aunty. I know I made a mistake, Allah, but take my intentions into consideration, like You always have. 

In the mirror, I saw Fawad walking towards the bed. He glanced my way and stopped in his tracks. My gaze returned to my own reflection.

"Mina?" 

I closed my eyes, feeling a slight headache. I shouldn't have travelled, considering how sick I'd been.

"You okay?" He placed the back of his hand on my forehead, causing me to open my eyes. "You're burning up." 

I rested my head against his bare stomach, kissing him there, before standing up. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine to me." 

"What are you, a doctor?" I joked weakly, walking over to the bed.

"Mina."

"It's nothing, Fawad. I was... kind of ill yesterday, and I probably shouldn't have travelled. I need to just sleep it off." 

"Kind of ill? Define 'kind of ill'?" 

I lay in bed, and he got in beside me, both of us facing each other. I closed my eyes. 

"Why didn't you tell me before? I would have asked you not to travel." 

"I had to come back, Fawad." 

"Mina, meri jaan, I know that the situation is f**ked up, excuse my language, but it doesn't mean that you should risk your health for it."

I opened my eyes, just as a tear slid out of my eye, falling over my nose and onto the pillow. "I felt too alone. I needed you."

Wordlessly, he moved closer and pulled me into his arms.

"Fawad, I'm repulsive right now. I didn't even shower after the flight and..."

His hold on me just tightened.

I slid my hand up his back, pursing my lips. I didn't want to cry, but this was my safe space to cry. He was my safe space. At first the sobs were quiet, but they grew louder as I poured out all the pain of the last couple of days along with my tears. "F-Fawad..." 

"It's okay, Mina."

I looked up at him. "I love you so much. I would never, ever betray you. Trust me."

"I know, Mina." 

"Fawad, please don't hate me. I'm loyal to you. I know I'm stupid, and I make silly mistakes and..."

"Mina, meri jaan, you aren't stupid, okay? You didn't do anything wrong. And by immediately telling me the truth, you solidified my trust in you even more." 

"I'm scared." I admitted. "Fatima Aunty..."

"She acts like this out of her love for me, Mina. I'm not defending her, nor are her methods right. But when she realises how much you love me, her anger will decreased. It might take some time, and a lot of patience, but we'll win her over."

"We? I'm the one who needs to win her over."

"Well, I'm your partner. I help you in this difficult mission." He grinned slightly. "So yes, Jasmina Fawad Ali, we'll win her over."

"Think about it, Dr Fawad Ali: a partnership with me is a lifetime commitment, and not just for one mission." I kissed his chest.

"Is that a promise?" 

"It's a qasam." I smiled.

*Qasam: oath.

"You're so filmy." He chuckled, pulling me closer.

"Get used to the drama." I giggled as our lips met.

No matter what, we'll handle it together, In Sha Allah.

*

Did you guys like the new FawMina moments?

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