COMMENT! I dare you. And because this chapter is 7,057 words! 

"Nouran beti, can you please tell those shaytaan kids to stop stealing all the jalebis?" Hafsa Chachi grumbled.

I laughed out loud and she shook her head at me. "Hafsa Chachi, how could I? They're so cute ma sha Allah! Just look at them," I said gushing over their chubby cheeks.

"That's exactly why they are getting away with it because of softies like you honey," Chachi sighed.

I muffled my laughter with the back of my hand and shrugged at her. She pinched my cheek, and I giggled. She playfully smacked my arm, and I walked away with the platter designed with henna tubes. The candle in the middle was surrounded with jasmine flowers, and I took one hand and curved it around the flame so it didn't flicker out.

I felt someone tug the pleats of my sari and thanked Allah for pinning it the second time. I looked down, and moved the platter to the side revealing a very angry Sahar.

"Mami!" she yelled.

"What's wrong Sahar jaani?" I bent down to her level, the drape of my sari pooling around me.

"They ate my jalebi!" she accused angrily and pointed to the hysterical kids on the other side of the room.

I looked at where she was pointing to and laughed as I remembered Hafsa Chachi being upset with them. I looked back at her and titled my head to the side. I took my free hand and smoothed the lines on her forehead.

"That's okay, don't worry. Can I tell you a secret?" I whispered theatrically.

"What secret?" she perked up.

"We have a lot more jalebis and sweets left just for us. Nani hid them in the kitchen, and we'll have them when we are all alone," I whispered childishly to her.

"Huh!" she gasped.

I smiled and kissed her cheek. "Yup! Now pinky promise you won't tell anyone," I stretched my pinky out.

"Pinky promise," she locked hers in mine.

We shook on it, and I pointed to my cheek. "Now where's my kiss?" I asked.

She shined her cute smile with dimples and leaned into my cheek. Sahar gave me a noisy kiss, and I laughed at her cuteness.

As I turned my head to the other side giving her easy access to the opposite cheek, I spotted Izhar watching us from where he stood. He looked like a Greek statue in his white on white kurta and salwar. He winked at me once our eyes met, and I shook my head at him. He smiled and carried on his conversation with Kareem Phuppo and Arslan Chachu.

Sahar ran away in her long pink flowery lehenga. I got up from where I had bent down to the floor and walked towards the stage in the back middle of the room. The festivities had started, and everyone was extremely excited. The Mehndi was minimized to close friends and family so that no one was limited to their fun.

"Here you go my love," I said and handed the plate decorated with mehndi tubes to Mahirah.

"Thank you Bhabi jaan," she said and took the plate out of my hands.

"The mehndi artists are here, we gave them appetizers. They're sitting with Huda Appi, and then in sha Allah they'll start," I said.

"Perfect! Bhabi, you and Huda Appi need to put henna on too," she said.

"We will in sha Allah. I'll send Huda Appi as soon as majority of you finish. She needs to feed Sahar, and then I'll send Ammi, Chachi, Phuppo, and everyone else. I'll come once it calms down," I said.

Mahirah smiled at me and leaned forward. "You always think about everyone else and put them before you. You're truly one of a kind Bhabi jaan," she said.

I smiled and caressed her cheek. "That's because I love my family, and no one and nothing comes before family. Now don't you guys forget to make sure that my Sahar habibti gets henna done too," I said as Amirah and Imaan joined Mahirah.

"Of course," they said.

I walked back when Ammi caught me in her arms. "Nouran dear, I've been looking for you. Come, there's some people who want to meet you."

"Yes, Ammi," I nodded and walked with her.

I'd been hugged, kissed on the cheeks multiple times, and patted on the head and cheek throughout the whole day and now. I met people who seemed familiar and were at my wedding, and others who I either couldn't recall or never met in my life. There were too many people for me to remember everyone's name, so when I bumped into them a second time, I addressed them as Aunty or Uncle depending on their age.

Ammi and some of the younger aunties were talking when I saw my Dadi-in-law wave at me from the sofa set in the middle of the wide floor.

I nodded at her and patted Ammi's arm. "Excuse me. Ammi, Dadi's calling me. I'm just going to go talk to her," I informed her.

Ammi patted my cheek and told me to go. I said salaam to the aunties and walked over to where Dadi and some other elders were talking.

She seemed secluded from the conversation, and I perched on the arm of the sofa she sat in. I put an arm around her frail shoulders, and she leaned into my touch. She was the eldest in the whole family, her husband no more, and was one of the sweetest and softest people I'd ever met. Her grandson had received his gentleness from her I presumed.

"Yes, Dadi jaan. You feeling okay?" I kissed the top of her head.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Now tell me why you're parading around and greeting all the guests over and over again," she said and placed an arm over my leg. 

I laughed at her abruptness and said, "They've been summoning me. What can I do Dadi jaan?"

"Oh ho. All my grandchildren are having fun, and all my children are torturing you by sending you for their errands. I want you to go and enjoy the festivities!" she shook her head.

"Yes, Dadi," I said.

"Now tell me. Where is my grandson?" she asked about Izhar.

I looked around and spotted him with Sahar in his arms. I smiled and looked down at Dadi. "He's with Sahar," I said.

She took a deep breath and smiled up at me. "He pretends to be strong, but don't overestimate him dear. Izhar habibi has a soft place in his heart and can be very vulnerable which I'm sure you know by now. He and you are so similar that it worries me that at times you two will get lost. You both put others before you and often forget what you want and need yourselves. Your big hearts override all the pain and grief that you may carry. But I know that you two will always find your way back to each other no matter what the mind says to you. Your hearts are erected into one, and don't ever let anyone or any force take you apart."

I slowly nodded my head and became silent. Her words were filled with wisdom and virtue.

"Anyways, enough of this melodrama. Now tell me when I should be expecting my grandkids," she said abruptly.

I blushed and looked around. Alhamdullilah for not having anyone within hearing distance.

"Kabir and Malaica just got married Dadi!" I teased her.

"Oh shush! I mean, when are you and Izhar delivering good news? I'm not getting any younger you know!" she gently smacked my thigh and laughed.

I blushed under her gaze and shook my head. She elongated her arm to my face and gently brushed my cheek and jaw.

"Dear, take your time. There's no rush. I know that nowadays couples like to become stable and established before settling down with kids. However, don't take too long," she said.

I looked down at her surprisingly, and she playfully slapped my cheek. "What did you think? This old lady would pressure you into having kids? As much as I want to see my grandchildren soon, I want you two to be more comfortable. Your shyness is evident in others presence, and I praise the amount of hayat you two have. It's quite beautiful."

My hands turned cold, and I stared at her with admiration. She was something else.

"Now go, I think my handsome grandson is looking for you. He looks like a lost turtle," she said.

I kissed her head, and she laughed and patted my cheek.

"Let me know if you need anything Dadi," I said and got up. I walked away when she called from behind.

"Now don't make me wait too long," she hinted at what she'd said earlier.

I sighed heavily and turned back to her. She gave me a knowing nod and smiled. I smiled back at her and threw her a flying kiss.

Ya Allah. They will be the death of me.

The night passed with laughter, chatter, and happiness. As the crowd started to die down, I went to get my henna done. The food was served, and all the elders were enjoying themselves in quiet conversation as all the youngsters played around and simply had a great time.

"Ma sha Allah you have beautiful hands," the mehndi artist complimented.

I looked down at my hand as it tickled under the henna tube. "Aww. Thanks! It's quite uncommon for someone to compliment one on their hands," I said.

She wiped her tube clean to retract the clump that had formed inside and said, "That's very true, but as a mehndi artist I must say, the natural cream and blush complexion of your skin is uncommon and beautiful. Your fingers are long, thin, and slender: any mehndi artist's dream hands to design!"

I laughed and thanked her. My skin was cream, and the soles of my feet and my palms always dark blush pink. It was something I'd genetically picked up from my mom and something Sabr always declared as unfair.

Two tiny arms startled me as they wrapped around my neck from behind. "Sahar! You'll mess up Mami's mehndi!" Huda Appi scolded from beside me where she was getting hers done.

"Oh, it's okay. She didn't do anything," I said and turned my head to Sahar's.

"Hi jaani!" I said.

"Hi Mami," she said quietly still upset with her mother.

"Oh honey, it's okay. Now tell me, how does Mami's henna look?" I tried taking her attention elsewhere.

Huda Appi convulsed her head from beside me, and I smiled at her. Sahar sat next to me on the colored mattress with the many multicolored and sequined pillows.

She gazed at her own hands, her henna already peeled off due to her impatience. "It's very beautiful!" she smiled cheekily at me.

"Thank you, but yours is even prettier," I nodded.

"Really?" she sat up straighter.

"Really," I kissed her forehead.

"She's so cute ma sha Allah," Hajra, the mehndi artist said.

"Thank you. Sahar habibti say salaam," I said.

"AsSalaamualaikum," Sahar replied shyly.

"Walaikum asSalaam!" Hajra chuckled.

They made small conversation due to Sahar's shyness with strangers, and after two short sentences, she covered herself with the drape of my sari.

"Mami?" she called after awhile.

"Yes, button," I said.

I looked at her, her gaze faraway. I followed her eyes and they were trained on a sporadically moving Izhar who was hidden behind a column. I looked back and forth between him and Sahar who gave him a confused look. He was trying to say something to her, but she couldn't decipher his hand motions.

I watched the two and swallowed the giggle that erupted when Sahar hit her head with her hand utterly confused. My eyes met Izhar's, and he stood up straight. He gave me a toothy grin and scratched the back of his head looking guilty. He waved robotically at me, and with my free hand, I waved back.

He jolted from where he stood across the big room, and I looked back at Sahar. She gave me a sheepish smile, and I raised one of my eyebrows at her.

"Uh, Mami?" she peered again.

"Yes, honeybun," I said.

"Izhar Mamu wanted me to tell you something," she said and moved her hair out of her face. He curls bounced at the touch, and her eyes twinkled under the teardrop lights.

She remained quiet as she hesitated to tell me what her Mamu had told her to say. "And what's that?" I flicked her nose with my free hand that was close to finish drying.

She opened and closed her fingers gesturing me to come closer. I leaned my head to her mouth, and she cupped her lips over my ears.

"Izhar Mamu said he wants a kiss-y and a hug," she whispered.

I pulled my head back up and looked at her. Generally, kids didn't know how to whisper and usually spoke outright, but Sahar had practice and her Mamu was her teacher.

I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip. The mehndi artist repositioned my hand, and I nodded my head for her to come closer. Sahar stood on her knees, and placed a hand on my neck, looking at me questioningly. Her innocence was untouched.

"Sahar jaani, will you do your Mami a favor?" I asked.

She nodded her head in encouragement.

"Go to your Mamu and give him a big kiss-y and a hug, and tell him it's from Mami, okay?" I straightened the small white bow atop her curls.

"But-but he said he wanted them from you," she hugged me.

"Aww, that's okay. He'll be happier if they are from you," I hugged her back with one arm.

"Okie dokie!" she said and bobbed her nose with mine like we always did. It was our little tradition.

She was about to walk away when I called her back. "Aren't you forgetting something Sahar jaani?" I pointed to my cheek.

She ran back to me and smiled. Sahar kissed both of my cheeks and went to retrieve her beloved Izhar Mamu. Oh, what I wouldn't do to see his reaction.

Hajra finished minutes later and my hands were coated with mehndi. I thanked her, and she told me about the lemon and sugar paste that was good for deepening the color to a blood red.

I walked to the long dining table where everyone was waiting to eat dinner. It was only family, and everyone was free to eat. My left hand was done drying but my right wasn't, and I was right-handed. They all wanted to wait and eat with me, but I persuaded them to continue.

I sat by Mahirah, Amirah, Huda Appi, and Imaan and listened to them chat continuously. After everyone was done, I helped them take everything into the kitchen.

"Bhabi you haven't eaten anything. Do you want me to feed you?" Imaan asked.

"Oh, darling thank you. But I'm seriously not hungry," I patted her cheek.

She sighed and shook her head at me. "You don't have to feed her. We have Izhar Bhaiya," Amirah said as she placed an elbow on Imaan's shoulder.

Mahira gasped and wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Guys, I'll eat when I'm hungry," I informed them.

"Right," Amirah winked.

They walked away once they were summoned by Hafsa Chachi, and Maya Phuppo came up to me. "Open your mouth," she said.

I opened and she popped a piece of samosa coated in raita in my mouth. I closed and chewed, touching my lips for any left behind crumbs. "Thank you Phuppo."

"You're welcome dearie," she said.

She gave me two more bites when she stared at something behind me. I turned around and followed her gaze. It was Izhar holding a plate filled with all the delicious wedding foods.

I titled my head and smiled. "Looks like my nephew is smarter than we thought," Maya Phuppo said.

She patted my cheek and walked away waving at Izhar. He waved back with a heartbreaking smile and walked to me.

"What's all this?" I looked down at the plate.

Raita, pilau, chicken tandoori, naan, samosa, kabobs, yogurt, and other foods filled each space on the plate.

"You didn't eat anything," he said looking down at me.

The lights above formed a halo around his light brown hair, and I felt as if I hadn't seem him for so long. The sleeves of his kurta were expertly rolled up to his elbows, the first of the four buttons undone.

"I did. Maya Phuppo just fed me a samosa, and I've being eating things here and there," I told him.

"Liar, now come with me. You have to eat!" he grabbed my dry wrist and pulled me to the staircase that was embodied with flowers and white string lights. 

"Izhar, I am seriously not hungry!" I complained as he spooned up some rice with chick peas. 

"I don't want to hear it," he grumbled and looked up at me, the spoon millimeters away from my mouth. 

I stared at him, and he stared back. His hair was disheveled hinting at the many times he'd raked his hand over and through it. His arm muscles were evident as he stretched it out towards me. His collar bone peeked through the collar of his kurta, and the thin white material giving away the bones that traced his hard definition.

I looked at the spoon and took the whole bite, swallowing and watching him.

"When will the henna be completely dry?" he asked casually.

I looked down at the peeling henna on my left hand and the now drying one in my right hand. "Soon, but it's recommended to keep overnight. The longer you let it take its time and peel off by itself, the better."

"Hmm, so I presume you'll be sleeping with plastic bags around your hands tonight?" he asked and gave me another spoonful.

I nodded my head and bent my knees where I sat on the middle step of the staircase. My knees brushed against his, and we both hesitantly looked at each other.

He winked at me and tore at the tandoori with the naan. "I barely saw you since the Mehndi started," he complained.

"We've both been busy," I shrugged. "Did you eat?"

"Yes, Maya Phuppo made sure we all did," Izhar said.

"Good," I nodded.

After another filling bite, I covered my mouth with my left hand. "Izhar please, I'm full."

"Nour. Just one more bite please," he tried retrieving my hand.

I pouted at him and gave in. I slowly chewed on the kabob and drank the cold ginger ale and bit into an ice cube.

Izhar smiled at me as I sucked on the ice cube and wiped the edge of my lips with a napkin. "Ya Allah, when will the festivities end, and when will I get my dear darling wife all to myself," he cupped my cheek and leaned in.

My back hit the railing of the staircase, the wooden rods straightening my spine.

"Izhar," I warned.

"You still owe me a hug and kiss," he reminded me.

I shook my head at him and he pushed the loose tendrils of my hair away. "I can't believe you told Sahar that!" I exclaimed.

"Nothing wrong with it," he said unconcernedly.

I gently pushed him away and he fell back dramatically.

"Oomph," he said.

I pulled him back by his kurta collar, and he leaned his forehead against mine.

"Darling, I'm missing you terribly," he confessed quietly.

I took a deep breath and softly said, "But I'm right here, and I have been close to you the whole day and night."

"Not close enough," he whispered.

I pushed his head back with the tips of my fingers, and he took a deep audible breath. "You just wait till we are all alone," he warned and got up with the plate in his hand.

I looked up at him and with my outstretched arm shyly asked, "Why, what'll happen then?"

He pulled me up, and we were nose to nose. "You just wait Mrs. Khan," he winked and let me go.

I watched him as he slowly walked down the staircase. There was a playful rhythm to his steps.

"Bhabi!" Someone snapped in front of my eyes.

"Huh?" I startled.

It was Daud. "Where were you lost?"

"Oh, um nothing. I was just-" I was at a loss of words.

"Mhm," Kabir chirped from my other side where he stared at Izhar with crossed arms.

"Bhai, I think Izhar Bhaiya has put a spell on our dear Bhabi jaan," Daud teased.

I coughed and scratched my forehead. "Haha, um I'm just going to... you know...." I said forcefully and jumped away.

The laughed from behind me, and my blush stuck with me like a second skin.

******

All the guests were gone except for family members. Even though it was a quarter past two into midnight, the festivities weren't done. All the cousins planned that they would meet on the roof of the house and have fun and fool around. Izhar and I had been coaxed and blackmailed into allowing them to since we were the eldest after Huda Appi and Zargham Bhaiya, who were already asleep due to their cranky daughter.

I was currently trying to untie my sari which wouldn't budge because of the many pins that were strongly tucked into every crease. Izhar had changed and was in the bathroom freshening up. The henna designed fingertips did little to help unpin my sari.

I groaned when the fourth try to unpin the drape failed. I heard the door of the bathroom open and turned around. Izhar wore nothing except for his black Adidas track pants. My breath hitched, and I looked down at the white and black marble floor.

"You still haven't changed yet. Everything okay?" A smile hinted in his voice.

I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. He knew very well what the problem was.

He walked closer to me and I mumbled, "My sari won't come off."

"Oh," he said.

A grin played with his lips, and he wove his hand through his hair. "Well, maybe I can help you," he said quietly.

"Um, it's okay. I'll just ask Imaan or someone else," I turned my back to him.

"She's probably changing too, and everyone else is waiting for us," he said.

I took a deep breath and felt his exposed abs push into my back. He turned me around and held me by the waist. Izhar's cheeks and the tip of his nose were a little pink, and it made my heart melt. He was shy himself.

"Did you take out what you wanted to change into?" he asked deeply looking everywhere except at me.

I nodded and pointed to the blue and white cotton salwar kameez that rested on the bed. He looked at it and then back at me.

"Let me help you," he smiled.

I hesitated and he added, "Please?"

After taking a deep breath I looked up at Izhar through my heavy lashes and said, "Okay, but promise to turn off the lights?"

His smile turned into a grin, all of his teeth flashing. "Nothing I haven't already seen, but I promise," he kissed my cheek.

He turned around and after turning off the lights, I spoke to the night. "And wear a shirt for goodness sake," I grumbled.

His laughter mingled with the silence of the night, and my heart was quickly at ease. It was the most beautiful sound in my life that left me at peace and made my toes curl into themselves.

"Why? Can't control your hormones and neurotransmitters?" he smirked and pulled me towards him.

I smacked his arm, and he nuzzled my neck. "Just kidding darling," he said huskily and kissed my shoulder.

"Izhar, focus!" I whisper yelled.

He sighed and grabbed my waist. My sharp hipbones brushed against his knuckles, and my heart thumped in my chest. The effect he had on me was undeniable.

"Focus darling," he whispered.

I gulped when his hands moved to the cord behind my back holding my blouse in place. We watched each other's silhouette dance in the night.

He pulled the cord free and we both stopped speaking in words, our hearts communicating louder than any spoken syllable.

I arched backwards, but he held me in place.  He kissed my larynx and straightened me up. I held onto his shoulders, and he pulled the pins out of my hair. He moved my hair to the other side and unpinned the drape. Instead of tugging it off, he let it stay and swim in the night air, and he kissed every place that no longer held a pin and moved his way around.

Like he'd done earlier today, he grabbed the thick layer of pleats and unpinned it slowly. My breath hitched in my rib cage, and I closed my eyes. My eyes had started to adjust to the dark, and I was able to decipher every curve and angle of his face not daring myself to look any lower than his neck. I knew I couldn't lose myself now, and if I did allow my eyes to consume their hunger, I'd be gone.

I involuntarily turned away from him once the pleats were pulled free. "It's okay darling," he whispered.

The drape of my sari hinted at flying away and when it did, I turned around and fell back into his arms. He held me tightly and kissed my forehead, and then my eyelids, nose, cheeks, and hovered over my lips.

He stopped right above. No longer being able to take the distance, I gently stood on the tips of my toes and ended the fight of our hearts.

******

Everyone sat on the rooftop laughing and talking. I chuckled at something Imaan said when all of a sudden Daud got up and called for attention.

"Excuse me, excuse me! Ladies and gentleman, before this night comes to an end, I'd like to ask for one more thing, and that is, our Izhar Bhaiya play the guitar and sing a song," Daud announced.

My eyes widened, and I beamed with excitement. I had heard Izhar play the guitar once and the piano at his parents house. I didn't know he could play till one day Huda Appi secretly took me into the room that sheltered the precious Steinway. It was kept away in a safe and sound place that could only amplify his feelings. He hadn't gotten mad once I admitted into seeing him play. Instead he let me sit next to him whenever he got lost in the notes the few times he played afterwards. He wasn't just good at playing the guitar or the piano, but magnificent. No amount of pleading and lip synchronization had cajoled him into singing for me. I'd heard him hum under his breath multiple times, but he never sang. He'd always make one excuse or another. 

Izhar shook his head and everyone nudged him and cheered him on. He had nothing to be ashamed or scared of since it was only Imaan, Amirah, Mahirah, Daud, and Kabir and of course me. 

"Bhaiya please!" Imaan begged.

They all nodded in encouragement, and he looked at me. He asked for help with his eyes, and in return, I nodded at him. 

"No!" he said.

"Yes!" everyone cheered.

I laughed and Daud came and sat by my feet. "Bhabi please, please, please tell Bhaiya to sing!" As if he'd listen to me. 

I sighed and held onto the concrete I sat on. "Please?" I softly said as I tilted my head to the side. 

Izhar tried to form words when I widened my eyes already big and he gulped. "Okay, fine!" 

My sad expression rapidly turned into an ecstatic grin, and everyone rejoiced in happiness. Kabir pulled out a guitar from behind him which he had kept ready and handed it to Izhar, and Daud placed a stool right in front of me. 

I leaned forward and placed my knees on my legs and hands on my cheeks, patiently waiting. Izhar took the guitar in his hands and expertly strummed a few solid notes before clearing his throat. Everything became silent and the lanterns and string lights on the roof twinkled all around us. 

Izhar looked at the guitar, not meeting my eyes, and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones. He looked flustered, but unbelievably handsome. He took my breath away every time.

We all waited when he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He strummed the guitar rhythmically, and the sound that his lips formed left me speechless. If I had thought that his mere voice captured my heart, then his singing voice played my heartstrings like his fingers played the strings of the guitar and pressed against the piano. 

His voice was... astonishing. 

He sang about pain, love, rekindled feelings, and broken hearts that were lost. He enchanted the feelings of being in love, losing yourself, and finding oneself within another person. He intoned my breath, my heartbeat, and the flow of the blood in my veins. 

His deep and husky voice was like no other, and I was spellbound. I watched him as he strummed and sang, as his lips formed notes I didn't think existed, and his eyes vanished with the sway of his feelings. He enunciated every thought, every action, every emotion, and every feeling into each sound his desirable lips formed. 

He left me breathless.

As he let out the last intake of breath and strummed the last note into the adrift London air, a tear fell to my lap. He opened his eyes and finally met mine that were unmoved. Izhar's lips formed the most heartwarming smile I'd ever seen in my life, and he put the guitar on the floor. He leaned forward on his stool, and I had forgotten everything except for him and me, and of course Allah, our witness. 

He brushed the path the tear had created and pecked my salty lips. I sat there frozen unaware of what to do and what to say. He softly chuckled as he looked back at my glued eyes. They didn't want to let his out of their sight, the blues radiating life into them, and the browns pouring warmth all over them. 

"I didn't know that my voice was that bad," he said and cupped my neck with one hand. 

I leaned into his touch and sniffled. "Anything but," my voice hoarse. 

He bit into the bottom of his lip and smirked. "Then why the tears?" 

"You- you're astounding," I whispered honestly. 

His eyes softened and so did his lips. He pulled me closer until we were inches apart. He leaned his forehead into mine and pulled my face upwards so that his lips could access them easier. 

He tightened his hold on me and encapsulated my lips in his. They throbbed with pain and love, and after a few minutes, I pulled away remembering there were others with us originally.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked softly. 

I tried moving my head around, but Izhar's hold on my neck did little to help. His eyes were dark like the late night sky, and not once did he look away from my lips. "They left knowing we'd need our privacy," he moaned into my neck. 

I suppressed a giggle as his lips tickled my skin and pulled his head up. "I love you," I said delicately.

He pulled me up, both of us now on our feet. "I love you too," he replied airily and picked me up in his arms.

I stopped him with one hand on his lips before he could lean in again.

"Why did you never sing in front of me before?" I asked.

"Hmm," he mumbled. "I don't know. I guess I just wanted to please you, and I didn't think I was good enough."

My arms went slack around his neck, and in a low and daunting voice I said, "Don't you ever think you're not good enough for me. Izhar, you have no idea what you mean to me. You've taught me the different versions of love. You've taught to let love ruin me. I'm never as happy as I'm with you, and I've never been more content."

He looked at me with awe before leaving a longing kiss on my forehead. "It scares me that our love wil catch someone's nazar. I'm scared our love will catch mine," he said adoringly.

I smiled up at him and said, "Allah is our witness of love amongst these stars that create a roof above us and the moon that gives light to the dark sky. The wind is our whisperer, breathing and encompassing us within its chilly folds. If it was anythings nazar, it would be one of theirs. Therefore, they are our witnesses, tying us closer to each other in ways we couldn't do ourselves."

******

I took a deep breath as I positioned myself across from the stage that seated the newlywed couple. Kabir and Malaica looked so happy ma sha Allah, a beautiful blush coating Malaica's cheeks. Kabir was himself again, a little shy yet more free to be himself.  

I turned around when someone called out, "Excuse me?" It was a manly voice I couldn't detect.

I looked up at the gentleman who'd called upon my attention. He had black hair and daring green eyes filled with exuberance. He was tall, almost as tall as Izhar but his stance filled with arrogance. He wore a black suit with a black shirt underneath, a stark combination against his tan complexion.

"Yes?" I answered strongly.

He had an insolent smirk on his lips that I wanted to smack away, very unlike me. I didn't judge people based on their appearance, but I had a good foundation in understanding what type of a person they may be just by a few glances. This man in particular raised red flags, my mind and heart trying to push me as far away from him as possible. He swiftly walked to me, each step echoed with ignorance. 

"You must be the lovely Mrs. Khan, wife of Izhar Khan," he seethed.

He seemed predatory, and I didn't like it one bit. He was like a snake, seeping of dominance.

"Yes, and who are you?" I asked unwillingly.

He took out his right hand for me to shake and said, "Azeem Maher."

I looked at his hand, and he looked back expectantly. I pulled up my chin and politely said, "I'm sorry, but I don't shake hands with non-Mahrams."

He looked taken aback, but soon in recovering into a devilish smile. "Very well. I guess I will just admire you from afar."

My eyes snapped to his, and my lips were set in a thin, hard line. It took all my my might to not walk away from him without a second glance, but he was a guest, and my morals told me to stay put and be kind.

"I'm sorry but I didn't recognize you," I said straightforwardly.

He was about to make his grand gesture by introducing his worth, but the silky voice I'd deemed interrupted him.

"Mr. Azeem Maher is an international businessman who runs the main branch of his business in London. 28 year old elite bachelor of the city," Izhar snarled.

I turned to him where he stood on the other side of us with his hands in his tuxedo pockets. His hair was slicked back from his forehead, his stubble sharpened, and dressed impeccably.

He wore a black tux, the lapels and cuffs satin with a beige shirt underneath and matching bowtie. His watch glistened under the lights, exposed from above his pocket. His eyes remained instilled on Mr. Maher's, enticed and rendezvous.

"Izhar, Mohammed Izhar Khan, well isn't it my pleasure to see you again," Mr. Maher said in an arrogant voice.

He held his hand out and after throwing bullets at it, Izhar gave a single and firm shake.

"Nice to see you after a long time Maher," Izhar said through his clenched jaw. Something told me he meant the exact opposite.

"Yes, it is," Mr. Maher smirked.

Izhar looked at me, and his eyes softened a little. He walked to me, and I gave him a warm smile as he placed a stiff arm on my waist. "Hello darling," he whispered.

I smiled and looked at his bowtie instead of his eyes. Usually, I would give him a hard time for showing public displays of affection. However at a time like this, I was more than glad to be in his arms.

"I see you've met my dear wife," Izhar said in in a determined voice.

"Yes, I did. She's quite beautiful I must say," he inclined his head towards me.

Izhar arm around my waist hardened, fisting on my hipbone. His voice like ice breaking on asphalt, "Ma sha Allah she is. Now if you will excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

I looked down at the jasmine and rose bracelet on my left hand that all the girls were wearing from the guys side and fiddled with the string that was made into a bow, tying both sides together.

"Of course! Please don't let me keep you waiting. I will definitely see you at the awards Izhar," he moved his arm to the side, giving us way to leave.

Awards? What awards?

"In sha Allah you will. Now please excuse us," Izhar nodded and moved us away.

We passed Mr. Maher and he said, "It was an honor to meet you Mrs. Khan."

Izhar looked forward, his jaw clenched and eyes bore into the wall across from us. I took a deep breath and gave a slight nod.

"You too Mr. Maher," I said politely.

"Please call me Azeem," he declared arrogantly.

"She won't be calling you anything," Izhar muttered before pulling me away from the deathly gaze Mr. Maher sent us.

I didn't speak or make any noise as Izhar walked out of the banquet hall and down a hallway. He walked down the steps, and I quietly followed him. We ended up in a passageway with a big antique mirror with golden designs around the edges, which was big enough to cover a whole side of the wall.

He walked in front of it back and forth, his spine stiff. I watched him and knew this moment wasn't the right one to say anything.

I caught myself in the mirror and made sure everything was in place. I wasn't big on looking in the mirror, but Mr. Maher had made me feel disgusted in my own skin in the way he looked and spoke to me.

The skirt and top pieces I wore under the long piece of my dress were both golden jeweled and hued with golden yellow. The outermost piece was pink and embroidered heavily like the rest of the dress. My dupatta was on one shoulder and strung back and around my opposite hand. It was the same color of my dress but checkered with a little off-white. The dress was as heavy as my wedding outfits, and the long hours were making it harder to carry.

It was beautiful, a gift from my husband who looked beyond angry and upset right now. The head jewelry seemed a little out of place, probably from the intensity when Izhar dragged me out of the hall. I positioned it and caught Izhar staring at me. I turned to him and the dress swayed all around me.

I held onto the dress, the many bangles I wore on my hands dragging it down.

"You look perfect," he said and turned his back on me.

"Are you finally talking to me now?" I teased and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He picked up my dark henna red hand and gently took it off his shoulder. He turned back to me and sighed at my hurt expression.

"I never stopped talking to you," he said.

"Didn't seem like it," I said and looked the other way.

Izhar exhaled loudly and gently turned my chin back to him. I blinked multiple times as the extremely long eyelashes the makeup artist placed on my real ones twitched. He laughed at me and kissed my cheek. 

"I didn't mean to make it look like I was mad at you. It's just that bast- I mean Azeem. I'm not really fond of him," he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"I can tell. Care to explain?" I pondered.

"Maybe now isn't the rightest of times, but all you need to know as of now is that he is a man I cannot stand. So please, steer clear of him, and tell me if he bothers you again," he inclined his head towards mine. 

I traced his sharp nose and breathed a sigh of relief. Only Allah knows what these two were up to. 

"Okay," I said.

"Okay. Now come before our family hires personal bodyguards for us to stay in place and within reach," he chatted and pulled me down the passageway and up the grandiose staircase. 

We stepped in front of the stage, and both of us took deep breaths simultaneously. "It wasn't too long ago when it was us two in that position," Izhar piped up from beside me.

I turned to him, and he kept his gaze straight ahead. "It still feels like yesterday," I whispered. 

Wow, that was a quick update wasn't it? You're welcome! ;) I really hope, wish, and pray that everyone enjoyed the chapter. And if you did, please, please, please COMMENT! You can tell me how much you loved or hated this chapter, or which part you favored the most or the least, or how your day went, anything at all. Just please comment. :) Oh, and don't forget to vote. P.S. I didn't put lyrics or a name of a song that Izhar sang for Nouran because I wanted it to purely come from your imagination, so dream away. G-Night!