© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

Hey, guys. Assalam Alaikum!

I love to write, and that's a fact, and on the For Our Love universe, I can write endlessly. So, I'm going to write a shorter story that is somewhere between 'For Our Love' and 'Belong Together'.

MehweenGR made me realise that I wanted to write more, especially on the other couples that I neglected before.

You can read this before 'Belong Together', but not before finishing 'For Our Love'!

FOR THOSE WHO HAVE READ 'BELONG TOGETHER', STRICTLY NO SPOILERS, PLEASE! 

Welcome back to the For Our Love universe!

****

Dr Fariha Zafar

"Allah!" I gasped as I stared from the roof down to the ground, where my sons were playing with their stepfather, my husband, Zafar. Seven-years-old Saad almost fell over, but my policeman husband had quick reflexes and caught him immediately. Saad squealed and laughed as Zafar tickled him.

The scent of the gajray (hair decorations made from flowers, generally jasmine flowers) entered my nose, as the wind gently ruffled through my hair, and I inhaled deeply. Zafar insisted that I wore gajray today. It was Omar's ninth birthday, and we were going over to my parents' house to celebrate. My parents-in-law and my two twin Nands, Mahnoor and Dua, had gone for Umrah, so I asked Zafar if we could celebrate it with my parents at their home instead. My parents, who had now shifted to Islamabad, had returned to Lahore for Omar's birthday, as well as Hania's second birthday. Hania was the first child of my older brother Fawad Bhai and his wife Jasmina Bhabi, and they were flying to Lahore soon. Bhai had tried his best to get extra days off to come earlier to celebrate his beloved nephew's birthday, but had been unable to do so. Fortunately for me, Ammi and Papa had kept the house so that when they visited Lahore, or when Bhai came, they can stay therem

Zafar looked up, as if he had heard me gasp, and gave me his cute dimpled smile. "Aaj chand lagta hai chat par aa gaya hai." He winked.

*"Looks like he moon has come to our roof today."

I shook my head. "Bachon ke samne to na shuru ho jayain."

*"Don't start in front of the kids."

My first child with Zafar, Zaid, lay in a pram nearby, barely two months old.

"Are you coming or not?" Zafar asked. "We're getting late."

"Sorry, I just wanted to hang the washing before we left." I smiled sheepishly. It was hilarious hanging up the washing in my white gharara with silver sequins over it.

*Gharara: traditional outfit with wide-leg, flared out trousers.

"You should have asked me!" He smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Like I did the last time?"

While Zafar had tried to hang the washing up on the roof the last time, my dupatta had slipped from his finger and had flown over the roof, landing on the spikes that were covering the top of the bordering wall of our family home. Needless to say, it had ripped pretty badly, and I had vowed never to let Zafar help me with the washing again.

Now, he just smiled sheepishly. "Anyway, come down. Ammi and Papa must be waiting."

Again, my heart skipped a beat as he referred to my parents as 'Ammi' and 'Papa'. He believed in giving parents proper respect, his or mine. His respectful nature is one of the qualities that made me fall in love with him.

I couldn't help bitterly thinking about my first husband, Umair, who barely respected his own parents or kids, let alone me. And then I reminded myself that if he did one good thing in his existence, it was fathering my sons, my Omar and Saad.

I shook my head, as if to clear my thoughts and then headed downstairs to head to my parents' house with all my boys. Alhumdulillah.

****

Dr Ali Mansoor and Dr Fatima Ali were classy, yet humble people. My mother was retired, and Papa was to retire in a year or two.

Ammi's love for her grandchildren was immense and not surprising. But Papa, the reserved Head of Neurology, became a completely different, and pleasantly surprising person around his grandkids, especially around little Miss Hania Fawad, our soul. It wasn't just because she was his son's firstborn, it was because girls always have a special place in the hearts or their fathers and grandfathers. I speak from experience.

Not that my sons were any less dear to them. In fact, I often got told off if I even glared at my own kids in front of my parents.

"Happy Birthday, my little shehzada." Ammi kissed Omar's cheek.

*Shehzada: Prince.

"Nano! I'm nine now!" Omar complained.

"To your Nano, you'll always be a baby." Ammi said, lovingly.

"And to your parents." Zafar said, proudly.

We were gathered in the living room, with a cake set out in front of us. It was an Avengers cake, and Omar absolutely loved it. I doubt that he even wanted to cut it.

"Shall we get started?" I pulled my oldest son towards myself, sitting him down between me and Zafar.

That's when I heard tiny footsteps and I glanced in the doorway of the room.

I almost shrieked with happiness at the most adorable sight in front of me.

Hania was standing in the doorway wearing a pink dress with golden floral designs, white leggings and cute golden shoes.

"Hanuuu!" I got up and rushed to her. "Phupho ki jaan!"

*Phupho: father's sister.
Phupho ki jaan: Phupho's life.

I gave her a hug and a kiss. "Ma Sha Allah! What a beautiful surprise."

"Pupo." She muttered.

"Hani, Omar Bhai ko wish karoo." Her loving mother's voice came from the hallway and I looked up with tears in my eyes as I saw my Bhabi, smiling happily at me, carrying a light blue gift bag. Five months pregnant with her second child, she had covered her stomach with a dupatta.

*"Hani, wish Omar Bhai."

I stood up, carrying my niece and gave Jasmina Bhabi a hug. "Assalam Alaikum! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Walaikum Assalam!" She replied, hugging me back.

"Bhai said he couldn't make it!" I frowned, ready to fight with my elder brother.

"He couldn't." Bhabi admitted. "But, he suggested that Hani and I come earlier to celebrate our beloved nephew's birthday."

"I will yell at him later." I shook my head as Jasmina Bhabi laughed.

"Mumani! Hania!" My boys screamed happily.

*Mamu: Mother's brother
Mumani: His wife. 

Saad and Omar loved having a little sister. They had been so protective of her when she was born, and had vowed to always take good care of her.

"Happy Birthday, Omar!" Bhabi ruffled his hair. "May Allah bless you with good health and a very long life. Ameen."

"Ameen." We grown ups said together.

"Assalam Alaikum, Bhabi." Zafar nodded at her.

"Walaikum Assalam, Zafar Bhai."

I would have been insecure once, as he used to be in love with her. But now I knew that Zafar loved me, and he was completely happy with our cute family, Ma Sha Allah and Alhumdulillah.

"Happy Bir'ay." Hania said, making everyone laugh and say, 'Aww!'.

"Thank you, Hania!" Omar beamed. "Come." He held out his hand. I set my niece down, and he took her hand and led her to the sofa, making her sit beside him. "Mamma, I will cut the cake with Hania."

"I'll help." I immediately moved forward. "You're still very young, so I don't want to risk you handling the knife alone with Hania." I sat beside Hania, and the three of us held the knife together. Zafar began to film it all.

"Happy Birthday, Omar!" Everyone sang as the knife sank into the cake.

I looked up at my parents, who looked utterly satisfied and happy. With successful careers, a cardiothoracic surgeon son, a general practitioner daughter, a policeman son-in-law, a kind and loving daughter-in-law, three grandsons, a granddaughter and another grandchild on the way, my parents felt completely blessed. Alhumdulillah.

And seeing them happy made me and Fawad Bhai happy.

I loved my family so much. May Allah always keep us happy and united. Ameen.

****

Dr Ahad Sheikh

I am a mess. Everyone who knows me knows that fact.

But she still loves me, and that's all that matters.

Zoya Ahad, my beautiful (yet crazy) wife.

We're that spontaneous couple that takes long bike rides from Lahore to Karachi on a whim. Or we randomly start dancing anywhere in the house (when nobody's around, of course).

Zoya has accepted me, despite my flaws, and I'll spend the rest of my life proving to her that she made the right choice.

"I have the meeting today, regarding the new clinic." I muttered as I lay in bed, with one arm folded under my head, and with the other around Zoya, who was resting her head against my chest. "I hope it goes well."

Around two to three years ago, I made mistakes that led me from being kicked out of the hospital. I'd ended up working as a doctor for a charity's shelter home, providing medical care for the needy people, and I absolutely loved it. Last year, I had decided to open another clinic, providing for the needy, with the help of my elder brother, Arhaan Bhai. My Sadia Bhabi, who was specialising in gynaecology, worked shorter hours at the hospital, and she'd offered to spend some time providing women's health advice at the clinic. No matter how our personal relationships were, she loved her job, so I agreed.

"You'll be fine, In Sha Allah." Zoya muttered as I ran my fingers through her naturally curly hair. 

"I better get up." I gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood up. 

"I wish we had more time." She pouted slightly, a teasing look in her eyes.

I chuckled. "Cheeky girl." Shaking my head, I headed into the bathroom for the morning routine.

****

"You look so hot." Zoya fixed my tie. "Ma Sha Allah." 

"Zo, stop teasing me." I grinned.

"What did I do?" She bit her lower lip, almost seductively.

"I'll pay you back for this after I get back." I promised her before leaning down and kissing her. Minty freshness of her toothpaste exploded into my mouth as we kissed, and I pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. 

Wearing grey shorts and a white camisole, she looked absolutely irresistible. If I didn't have to attend that meeting, I would have stayed home.

"I love you." I muttered before exchanging a final kiss with her. 

"I love you too." 

I headed out of the room and down the stairs, getting blessings from my parents before I left. I needed all the duas to continue on my path of repentance. 

Putting on my sunglasses, I got into my car and pulled out of the driveway of our family mansion.

Thank you Allah, for this second chance. My first marriage was rushed, impulsive and a nightmare. But now, I've found The One, my Zo.

To get to my destination, I had to drive by my best friend Zafar's house. I winced. Although we were still good friends, our relationship had changed a lot since I had cancelled my Nikah with Fariha on the day of the Nikah itself, when she had been all dressed up as a bride and the guests had been waiting.

I'd almost ruined my own sister's marriage then, and it most certainly would have happened if her husband was anyone other than Fawad Bhai, Fariha's older brother. Those two siblings had an extraordinary upbringing, I must admit.

As I passed by Zafar's house, I frowned. Zafar was sitting on his worn out motorcycle outside his house, with Fariha behind him and Hania in front of him. "What the hell? Is he insane?!" I pressed my hand on the car horn, stopping just ahead of him. Getting out of the car, I turned to face them. "Bro, what are you doing?" 

"What are you talking about?" Zafar looked at me, confused, as Fariha turned away.

"You're taking Hania out on a motorcycle!" I pointed out, incredulously. "Have you both completely lost it?" 

It was a pretty common practice in Pakistan, for kids to ride on bikes like that, seated in front of their father, but this was Hania, my niece. 

"Zafar knows what he is doing." Fariha said, without looking at me.

"Can Zafar prevent accidents as well?" I snapped. "What if something happens? How will you ever face Jazzy and Fawad Bhai again?!" 

Fariha got off the bike, glaring at me. "Firstly, Hania's mother knows about this. And secondly, why are you acting like Hania means nothing to me? I'm her Phupho." 

"For her Phupho, you're being incredibly reckless with her life!" I crossed my arms over my chest. 

"Ahad, with all due respect, stop acting like you're the only one concerned about Hania, when her own mother allowed this. Jasmina Bhabi trusts us to take care of her." 

"As a police officer, you should know better than to take a risk with a toddler like that!" I turned to him. "If she was your niece, you'd show more concern." 

"Well, she's my niece too, and I trust Zafar enough to be careful." Fariha rolled her eyes. 

I took a deep breath, composing myself. "Look, just take my advice, as a concerned Mamu. Go in your car, Zaf. Hania's too young. Will you be able to forgive yourself if anything happens to her? Accidents take moments to happen, and Hania's too precious for any of us to risk her safety." I leaned forward and ruffled my niece's hair lovingly, before turning to walk back to the car.

I had no idea how Jazzy had allowed it, but if I knew Fawad Bhai, he wouldn't ever have allowed his daughter to be riding on a motorcycle like that. 

****

Fariha

"I hate to say it, but he's right." I got off the bike. "Just because he's Ahad, doesn't mean that he's always wrong." I shook my head. "What were we thinking?" I sighed, taking my Hani doll from Zafar. "Bhai would have killed us, and Bhabi only allowed it because she was half asleep when I asked. Let's take her in the car. And since we are going in the car, we can take Saad and Omar as well." 

I act stupidly sometimes. I'm a doctor, and I was taking such a risk with my own brother's two-year-old daughter? And my husband was a policeman! Neither of us had thought things through.

"Shall we go, Hanu?" I kissed my niece's cheek, but she was mesmerised the silver studs in my ears.

There was no use fighting about this. Ahad was Hania's Mamu and he loved her as much as I did. Our past didn't change that fact. 

So, Zafar and I took the three kids for ice cream, while Zaid remained with Ammi. Bhabi was asleep, but Ammi was looking after the baby. The two had come to my house to spend some time with me, but then Hani had started asking for 'i'ceam'. Apparently, like her mother, the sweetie loved ice cream as well.

At the ice cream shop, the boys selected ice cream with Zafar, while I held Hania. "What does my baby Hani like?" 

"Mama." She randomly replied. I knew that she didn't really understand me, but it was adorable how she randomly replied. 

I set her down, but instead of looking at ice cream flavours, she started wobbling around the shop on her tiny legs, and I followed behind as she explored her new surroundings. While she had started off looking like Bhai, she was now starting to seriously resemble her mother, with the same big brown eyes, and her hair the same shade of medium brown. 

"Makes you want a daughter, huh?" Zafar asked, approaching me. We watched my niece, both of us smiling.

"Yeah, definitely." I turned to look at him. "But I can't handle anymore childbirths, Zafar. I'm sorry."

"Hey, quit apologising." He smiled sweetly at me. "We have three adorable kids, Ma Sha Allah. Plus, Hania will make up for our desire for a daughter, right?" 

"Yes..." I stopped and my smile disappeared as I looked around the shop. "Allah! Where's Hania?" 

Zafar looked around startled. We both looked around, but there was no sign of Hania anywhere.

"Hania!" I cried out, panicked.

****

First chapter and already drama! :D

What was it like to read about these characters again?

Thoughts and comments?

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