A few days have passed since Fabiha's wedding to Kabir, and they are happily settling into their new life together. With all the guests having left, only Aunt's mom—Fabiha's grandmother—remains with us. This evening, we're enjoying some TV shows while preparing dinner for the family.

I can't express my gratitude to Allah enough. Even though He took my parents from me, which was an immense and painful loss, He has gifted me with an extraordinary family. Their support, love, and presence have filled the void left by my parents' absence.

"Nyla," I hear Manik bhai's voice calling my name. I look up to see him standing there, holding Parisa in his arms.

"Can you make her stop? She's been crying for a long time," Manik bhai says, concern evident in his eyes. I nod, rising from the floor. After quickly washing my hands, I walk over to him and take Parisa into my arms. As our hands touch, I feel a surprising jolt of electricity, like a spark, passing between us.

Feeling confused by the unexpected spark, I shake my head, trying to dismiss it as nothing significant. I carry Parisa gently into my room, hoping to calm her down. 

I carefully remove the dupatta from my shoulders, setting it aside with gentle movements. Then, I settle onto the bed, cradling Parisa in my arms. I bring her close to my chest, wrapping her snugly against me. The rhythmic rise and fall of my breathing and the steady beat of my heart seem to provide her with a sense of security.

As I hold her, I softly rock back and forth, whispering soothing words. Slowly, the tension in her tiny body begins to ease. Her cries diminish, and she seems to relax into the comfort of my embrace. The warmth between us creates a cocoon of calm, and I feel a deep sense of peace as she nestles contentedly against me.

As Parisa drifts off to sleep in my arms, I gently lay us both down on the bed. I carefully adjust her so that she's nestled close beside me, feeling her tiny, warm body against mine. I place my hand lightly on top of her head, my fingers barely grazing her soft hair, creating a gentle, protective shield over her.

As I watch her peaceful expression, I can't help but marvel at her serene beauty. The rhythmic rise and fall of her little chest as she breathes deeply and steadily is soothing. I find myself completely absorbed in the tender moment, letting the quiet lull of her presence envelop me.

Soon, the tranquillity of the room and the steady, comforting warmth of Parisa's presence begin to weigh on my eyelids. My eyes grow heavy, and despite my best efforts to stay awake, the gentle pull of sleep overtakes me. I drift off, my own breaths becoming slower and more even as I surrender to the calm and contentment of the moment, falling asleep with Parisa nestled close beside me. 

Meanwhile, in the hall, Fabiha's grandmother expresses her concern. "Don't you think it's high time Nyla should get married? She's young, beautiful, and has completed her graduation. It's not good for her to remain single for too long." Her voice carries a mix of concern and a traditional perspective, reflecting a desire to see Nyla settled and thriving in a committed relationship.

Humaira Sheikh nods thoughtfully and responds, "You're right, but we haven't found a suitable match for her yet. Once we find a good man, we'll definitely consider it." She continues preparing dinner for the family, her focus shifting back to the task at hand while keeping the conversation in mind.

"Why do you need to find a man when there's one right here with you?" Fabiha's grandmother says, her tone tinged with a hint of mischief as she gets up to check the dish on the stove. Her comment hints at a potential match already present in their circle, suggesting that there might be someone closer than they think.

"Who are you talking about?" Maryam Sheikh asks, her voice tinged with confusion as she looks up from her task, trying to understand the implications of the grandmother's remark.

"Manik," she replies matter-of-factly as if the answer should be obvious. Her tone suggests that she believes the connection is straightforward and clear, leaving little room for doubt.

"But, Ma, that's not possible," Fabiha's mom tries to reason. However, Fabiha's grandmother dismisses her objections with a wave of her hand and continues discussing the pros and cons of Nyla marrying Manik.

While the elders are discussing the possibility of pairing Manik and Nyla together, Nyla is peacefully asleep in her room with baby Parisa. And, Manik?  

He steps into the room to check on Nyla and baby Parisa, he's struck by the serene beauty of the scene before him. The gentle light of the room casts a soft glow over Nyla, who is peacefully asleep with Parisa nestled against her. Manik's heart swells with a mix of tenderness and admiration as he watches them, making sure that both are comfortable and undisturbed.

The tranquillity of the moment is notable, and he quietly moves closer, his eyes filled with a protective, affectionate gaze. His attention is focused on ensuring that everything is perfect for them.

Yet, amidst this tender scene, something shifts in Manik's awareness. As Nyla sleeps with a slight shift in her position, her dress loosens just enough to reveal the first few inches of her cleavage. Manik's gaze inadvertently lingers for a moment, caught between his deep respect for her and a more personal, unspoken attraction.

He quickly looks away, refocusing on the task at hand—adjusting the blanket around Parisa and making sure the room remains peaceful. His heart beats a little faster, both from the intimacy of the scene and the complex emotions it stirs within him.

Manik gently adjusts the blanket, covering both Nyla and Parisa to ensure they stay warm and comfortable. As he does so, he deliberately avoids looking at Nyla's exposed neckline, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand.

His eyes then shift to Nyla's outstretched hand, where he notices a delicate detail: her palm is adorned with henna, and his name, "Manik," is written in an elegant, swirling script. The sight of his name, intricately designed and still visible, evokes a deeper, more personal connection.

Manik's heart skips a beat as he takes in this subtle, intimate gesture. He gently brushes a strand of hair from Nyla's face, his touch light and reverent, and steps back, feeling a mix of admiration and introspection as he leaves the room, careful not to disturb the peaceful moment.

As soon as Manik walks out of the room, a wave of intense heat washes over him. It's not the heat of desire, but rather a seething anger directed at himself. The realization that he's finding himself drawn to Nyla—someone who is not his wife—fuels a deep, uncomfortable frustration.

He feels a surge of anger bubbling within him, a mix of guilt and self-reproach for allowing his emotions to stray. The image of Nyla, her hand adorned with his name in henna, lingers in his mind, amplifying his internal conflict. He chastises himself for losing control and for the complexity of his feelings, struggling to reconcile his respect for Nyla with the boundaries of his own commitments.

The anger he feels is not just about the attraction itself but also about the breach of self-discipline and the potential complications it could bring. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to cool the fire within, and makes a conscious effort to redirect his thoughts and regain his composure.

Manik makes a mental note to himself: "I have to stay away from her." Determined to clear his mind, he walks into the dining area where the women are still discussing Nyla's potential future. Their conversation continues to revolve around suitable matches for her.

One of the women, adding to the discussion, says, "I have a boy in mind—the son of Ahmed's brother. He's 26, graduated from a reputable university, and is doing very well in his career."

Manik listens to the conversation with a renewed focus, trying to distance himself from his previous emotions and redirecting his thoughts to practical matters.

To be continued...

Author's note -

This is my first Muslim fan fiction, and I would greatly appreciate your support.

Don't forget to vote and leave a comment! Your feedback would mean a lot to me.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes. Thank you for your understanding!

04.08.2024.