IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ BEFORE PROCEEDING!
For those who don't know, I updated last week. If you have not read Chapter 37: And In Her Eyes I See A Canvas Of Stars, in which confessions were whispered and passion was ignited, then I suggest you read it before continuing on with this chapter! There was a Wattpad problem in sending notifications, so please make sure you are up to date. :D PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE COMMENT!!!! It takes some serious motivation to write long chapters. ;)

"Achoo!" I sneezed for the seventh time in the past two minutes.

My eyes were bloodshot and watery. The aqueous humor teared up more and more with each heart-wrenching exaltation of air. My head felt mindfully heavy, as if it weren't filled with brain matter but heavy weights instead. I was severely cold and slightly hunched over due to the cold that swarmed over my body even in the long sleeve shirt I wore underneath my scrubs and lab coat that I wore on top.

"Here you go," Anam pulled a thin moisturized tissue and handed it to me from the floral print Kleenex box on the shiny white counters of the nurses station.

"Thank you," I groggily murmured as I put the ballpoint pen down and discreetly blew my nose. My voice was heavy and deprived of sleep and filled to the brim with mucus.

Being sick was not a pretty sight.

"Aww! You look like Rudolph," Anam cooed and flicked the tip of my bright pink nose.

I glared at her and discarded the tissue. I squirted some hand sanitizer on my now thawing palms, and the thick methyl smell of the puree cleared up my nostrils.

"When is your next appointment?" Anam asked as she and I walked to my office.

"In two days, and Izhar insists he come with me. I keep telling him it's just a cold, but he won't listen."

I sat in my puffy and shiny black leather chair and dropped my head on the headrest while closing my irritated eyes. The seat shifted backwards, and I groaned in frustration from the pounding headache implanted into the core of my diencephalon.

My hands were numb and dry, fingers thin and frozen, head torturously pounding, hair pulling from the roots underneath my cotton hijab, and whole body burning one minute and shaking in the next. I felt like the jitters from my wedding day were coming back but ten times worse if that was even possible.

"He's just worried, that's all!" Anam said before biting into her apple.

The thunder from the gloomy evening sky erupted on the glass windows of my office, pounding and shattering like thin shrapnel shards of ceramic. The drizzle poured from the irrevocable azure and indigo sky and coated the lands of earth with mist and dew. Each bolt of lightning zapped my head, the migraine starting to come in from the right side of my cerebrum and to the left.

"He gets too worried sometimes, and after all, it's just a cold. That's it," I murmured as I surreptitiously brought a cool hand to my clammy forehead and massaged the crease in the middle of my furrowed eyebrows.

"It is not just a normal cold Nourie. You threw up twice since your shift started, and you haven't eaten anything except for one slice of apple," Anam argued.

The mention of food turned my stomach upside down and inside out, scalding my dry and parched throat of all its nomadic tastebuds. My face probably had turned sickly green when I opened my eyes and covered my mouth with the back of my hand.

I dry heaved, and Anam quickly handed me my transparent tumbler that had small red hearts all over it with a red straw. She ran to my side of the desk and soothingly rubbed my back in small circles while the water slushed down my throat like a small waterfall hidden inside the abandoned caverns.

"You need to go home," she said worriedly as I handed her back my tumbler.

"I'll be fine in sha Allah, just four more hours," I answered in a scratchy voice. I pulled my elbows up to the black glass desk and held my head in my hands.

"You sure?" Anam asked pointedly.

"Yeah," I gave her a buoyed smile, and she sat on my desk, playing with the mahogany and gold name plate that reflected my name and title.

"Did you take your meds?" she referred to the anti-cold medications Izhar was forcing me to take.

"Yes, meri amma! Now let's go, we have rounds to attend," I said grudgingly as I got up from my chair and pulled her up with me.

The rain roared in anger against the sins of the world as it innocently poured down and covered the luminous city with its naivety. Subhan'Allah.

******

As I folded the clothes that I had retrieved from the fresh batch of laundry I had done, my phone buzzed from underneath the heap of warm clothes. I looked for my notorious phone, but it was nowhere to be found. My hands sauntered through the many freshly washed and bathed in detergent undergarments of Izhar when I suddenly hit something hard underneath his pajama pants. Aha!

It was Huda Appi, so I quickly slid the screen of my phone to answer the call and placed it between my left cheek and shoulder. I sniffled before answering with Salaam and grabbing Izhar's t-shirt to fold. After we exchanged greetings and our whereabouts, Huda Appi asked where Izhar was.

"Appi, he's still at work. Everything okay?" I asked apprehensively when she emanated a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. I just needed to talk to you about something," her voice came out ragged and held an odd sense of annoyance.

"Of course!" I said and reached for one of my scrub tops.

"So, you know how Imaan is starting to get proposals? There was one that came in recently, and it spiked a feud between Ammi and Baba," she said unhurriedly.

I dropped my hands midway and sat on the edge of the bed. Even standing up for too long or working my muscles too much was tiring. How I got through the past three shifts at work was beyond me.

"Oh no. I haven't heard anything about it, and Izhar hasn't said anything," I coughed into my shoulder.

"That's because Izhar doesn't know yet habibti. Ammi and Baba are too angry at each other to tell us, and I only found out because Imaan told me what happened. She said she'd call you tonight, but she's scared out of her mind to say anything to Izhar," Huda Appi articulated.

"Hmm," I mumbled as she continued.

What could possibly cause a scene between Ammi and Baba jaan and anger Izhar out of his mind?

"You won't believe who sent the proposal!" she exclaimed, and I could hint thick streaks of anger in her voice.

After a few seconds of silence, the rain pattered down the isolated penthouse, creating a small wave of water on the balcony outside. Then like a lightbulb, it suddenly hit me.

"OH MY ALLAH! Don't tell me it's Tabassum Aunty's son!" My eyes widened and mouth dropped.

"HAH! No my love, think again. Or better yet, brace yourself. Mr. Azeem Maher, Izhar's all-time arch nemesis has sent a proposal for our baby sister," she snarled.

Oh. My. Allah. I got up from the bed and swirled around in utmost anger. Mr. Maher? What was he trying to prove, and how dare he send a proposal for our doll Imaan?

"What the Jahanam? You've got to be kidding me! How, when, and why?" I softly gasped into the phone, completely out of breath.

Huda Appi took a long and strangled pause before continuing into the drama that had ensued at the Khan residence. "So Azeem Maher's uncle or someone in London sent Kareem Phuppa the proposal for Imaan, and he told Maya Phuppo who then contacted Ammi and Baba. They weren't too fond of the idea, since they know he is one arrogant ass competitor, but as adults and our uncle and aunt, they fulfilled their duty by informing us that there was a proposal. Baba outright denied the proposal and was about to tell Phuppa to decline it when Ammi threw a fit. She kept arguing that he was handsome, and an elite and rich bachelor with his own rising company in London, but she failed to see Baba's point. Baba doesn't hate Maher, but he knows that our way of thinking and his way of thinking clash like plate tectonics on more than one level. His principles are different, and let's not forget how much of an asshole he is for trying to bring my brother down!" Huda Appi was nearly yelling by the end.

"Ammi can be so gullible sometimes. All she sees is his money, his status, and his luxuries that he can succumb to on a daily basis. Yes, we raised our Imaan like the most delicate flower, and she deserves a man who can take care of her and love her, but Maher is not the right guy! I mean come on, this must be a devious plan of some sort! He is arrogant, sly, cunning in all the wrong ways, and a complete jackass!" I was sure her blood pressure would skyrocket as strong as the lightning outside.

"Oh Appi jaan. What have Ammi and Baba decided?" I was almost too afraid to ask.

"Well, at the end of the day what Baba says goes. He wants to discuss it with Izhar before officially rejecting the proposal, and let's just say Ammi's shit hit the bloody fan. She's trying to coerce Imaan into speaking up and saying that she accepts the proposal, but Imaan would never speak above Baba, and she herself can't stand filthy Maher. Ammi thinks that we should give him a chance and that he must've changed, but I am telling you Nouran! That kamina---" she groaned.

In nearly two and a half years of my marriage, I had never heard or seen Huda Appi as mad she was on the phone in that one moment. I could only imagine what she was going through, even my own blood was boiling, the blood vessels popping in my skull that was throbbing to the beat of the rain.

"What do we say to Izhar?" I bit the bottom of my lip.

"Oh yeah. So other than informing you of all the drama that's going on, I also called you because you are the one and only hope in breaking this news to Izhar. This all happened last fortnight, so neither Baba nor Imaan had the chance to talk to you guys yet. Nouran, listen to me jaani. You are the only living soul that can explain this to Izhar without him cutting you off and letting you finish the whole story. He will loose his mind and all coherency, but you can keep him calm while explaining everything. We were all hoping that you would..." she seemed on edge, afraid to continue.

"That I would?" I peered.

"Umm... tell Izhar!" she said quickly.

Oh God. Great! Now I had to break it to him that the man who was trying to steal his success wanted to marry his baby sister that he adored with all his life and heart.

"Appi," I sniffled through my clogged nostrils and my head hung in front of me, over the unfolded pile of freshly laundered clothes. The smell of the lilac and sea cotton blended into the air.

The rain outside became a soft whisper, the angry drizzle transforming into a loud nightingale lullaby.

"Oh jaani! Please, please, please!" she begged ever so sweetly, and I couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, fine. But Baba jaan will speak to him, right?" My shoulders slumped with cumbersome confiscation.

"Yes, in sha Allah. You are just preparing him so he doesn't lose it in front of Baba and Ammi," I could hear a smile in her voice.

"Your brother can be so stubborn sometimes, and you know how he gets when he's angry. He's like a little child with the temper of a baby," I rolled my eyes at myself when they landed on the large photo frame behind our bed.

It sheltered a black and white picture of us on our Walima. I had one hand firmly placed on his shoulder, both of his on my hips. My head was thrown back in genuine laughter, my eyes slightly closed, the soft tendrils purposely untucked from my intricate bun at the nape of my neck framing my heart-shaped face, and the bangles accentuating the deep mehndi designs on my hands and forearms along with the statement rings on my fingers. No one filled out a suit quite like him. His eyes were on me, lips curled upwards in an innocent smile, eyes piercing, and tie caught in my other hand.

"And that is exactly why we know you will do the trick! He can't argue for too long with his darling," she beamed on the other side as she quietly answered Sahar jaani's question.

"Yeah, but he also only argues with me more than anyone else before coming to my point," I shook my head as I thought about how he'd react.

"But you are the only one that can work your charm on my head over heels brother. Use those wifey tricks, and you'll have his mouth shut in no time. You could wear a sari with a scandalous blouse if you're feeling creative, but since you are sick, just grab one of those sexy lingerie pieces, and that should do seal the deal!" Huda Appi roared with laughter.

Thank goodness Izhar wasn't home. "Appi!" my whole body flushed scarlet and rustic blood, and it only made her laugh even louder.

My toes tingled, a shiver sprinting up my spine, my heart palpitations increasing by the second, my palms and forehead beading with warm sweat. "Astagfirullah," I shook my head at the lonely and rainy night sky.

"Subhan'Allah," a voice murmured into my internal ear canal, sending a tickle down into my diaphragm.

I gasped out loud when two strong and muscular hands placed there way on my narrow hipbones. He pulled me backwards and closer to his chest. I could feel the rigid muscles underneath his button up shirt and through the thin cotton material of my shirt. His cold and firm body rippled wavelengths of electricity onto my back. I shivered in his arms and involuntarily inclined backwards as his hot tongue and lips quickly traveled to the back of my neck. His fingers and warm hands were fast as they moved my hair to the side and then moved downwards, traveling into my shirt and grasping the sides of my abdomen.

My feet swayed beneath me, turning my legs into half set jelly. If I didn't stop him now, I wouldn't be able to later on. I'd fall to my knees, and I'd have a very embarrassing encounter with Huda Appi on the other line. Oh Lord, have mercy! Huda Appi was on the other line.

I quickly turned in Izhar's arms, and his warm blue and brown eyes welcomed me with mischief and hints of devilish thoughts. I shook my head at him and abruptly covered his mouth with one of my hands before he could do or say anything.

"Huda Appi, what were you saying? Sorry," I gasped breathless while I grabbed my cell phone with my other hand from the crook between my shoulder and cheek.

"It seems my brother is home and quite hungry. I'll talk to you later jaani. I don't want him to come for my fresh blood if I keep his dear wife on the phone for too long," she cackled.

My brain couldn't comprehend anything she was saying as Izhar's hands moved inside my shirt, pulling it up along with the tank top. My teeth chattered together as the coolness of the room enveloped my exposed abdomen and stomach, sending goosebumps erupting on my skin. His fingers kept lingering upwards, but they stopped once they hit the small locks. The light and small hairs in my body rose with rebellion like charcoal flames on ice.

In return I glared at him as he smirked his small devious and evil smirk. I swatted his hands away, and he kissed the palm that rested upon his full-bodied and desirable lips. I instantly moved my hand away and clutched the phone harder till my knuckles turned white, and my palms turned blood red.

He leaned in and moved his lips to the phone, only a few short millimeters away from my unwavering and watery ones.

"Get off the phone! You're stealing sacred husband and wife time," he grinned and winked at me, and my stomach dropped to the floor.

If I wasn't blushing before, then I was definitely bathing under the hot summer sun now. His fingers moved to intensify small circles around my hipbones, his head moving down and searing the base of my neck with an insatiable kiss.

I grimaced my lips together, trying to swallow the moan that vibrated in my chest and threatened to come out. I could hear Izhar chuckling as his breath hit the front part of my body, his breaths kicking my collarbone into overdrive and churning a flame in the pit of my stomach.

That devil was doing it on purpose. "Ya Allah, Astagfirullah! I don't need any details. I am hanging up before I hear something that I don't want to. Allah Hafiz Nouran, good luck taming your wild husband," and with that she ended the call.

Before I could even register a goodbye, Izhar growled into my neck, took the phone out of my hand and tossed it behind his back on the fresh linens scattered on our king sized bed.

"Izhar! My phone-," I complained, but he was quick in pushing me into the wall.

My back unceremoniously collided with the wall behind me as he pushed me back from my shoulder. "Damn that android phone of yours. I'll buy you an iPhone, and then you'll see how much better it is than that Samsung," he pinned my arms above my head and provokingly glided one promiscuous hand along the curve of my shaking body.

"I don't want an iPhone. I'm already married to a workaholic/tech freak," I tried not to squirm under his towering body frame as I glanced at the clock behind me. It was already half past ten.

"Did you just call me a freak?" he picked his head up from my throat, and watched me with a small furrow in between his eyebrows, but I was not fooled. His eyes twinkled with raw passion and untamed lust under the builtin ceiling lights.

"Yes, I did. A tech freak!" I challenged him.

"We will see who is the real freak," he leaned in and whispered in a dangerous low and husky voice.

I knew he was up to no good, so I tried to squirm my way free to no avail. I fell back against the wall defeated and blew air in front of me, trying to move away the strand in front of my face, but my locked hands prevented me from doing anything. I looked at him angrily and humphed before moving my head to the side, all the while he watched me with a not so innocent look.

He let my hands go, but before I could escape, he wiped the grin off my face by picking me up in his arms.

"Izhar, let me go!" I thrashed with angry fists, but he didn't let go.

"You said I was a freak. Now it's time to test how much of a freak I am in bed," he licked the top of his lip and bit his bottom one soon after.

My heart raced ahead of me with the thunder that came streaming through the penthouse. I had noticed that I was clutching his loosened tie with both hands as if my life depended on it till he lowered his gaze.

If only I could strangle him with this tie!

Another thought came to mind, and I patted myself on the back. Wow Nour, the lightbulb keeps flickering on even in this awful state of your health.

I smiled to myself and then innocently looked at Izhar, trying to make my big and round eyes shy in front of him. I batted my eyelashes, and he raised an eyebrow not buying anything that I was selling.

I leaned forward in his tight hold and raised one slender finger to his cheek, seductively trailing it down his suffused pink cheek. I moved my lips to his ear and placed a small kiss before moving my fingers down to the collar of his shirt.

I could hear his breath hitch as my fingers moved to the second button of his shirt, and loosening the tie around his neck before it came off altogether. It slipped to the floor with a single roar of thunder. Izhar's heartbeat fastened, and I smiled into his five o'clock shadow that tickled my parched lips.

"How about you chase me?" Please let this work!

"But I already have you," his eyes were pinched closed, and his ear tinted bright pink.

"What's the fun in that? I run, you run after me. If I you catch me, then I do what you want," I evoked as I moved my finger down to his exposed and smooth sternum.

"Are you trying to fool me?" his voice came out shattered.

Well, was it working?

"Hm, you're stronger, you're faster. This should be a piece of cake," I said cheerily.

My hands fell slack against him, my toes curled inwards from the freezing cold. "Fine, I like myself a hard competition," he easily put me back on my feet.

I quickly paced to the front of the bedroom door and turned towards him, my hand already clutching the doorknob.

"Ready?" I asked.

He nodded and folded the sleeves of his royal blue shirt to his elbows, running a hand into his gloriously messy hair.

"1, 2,..." I smirked and turned the knob behind me before it clicked with the hinge.

"3!" and I ran out.

"Cheater!" I could hear him yell behind me, but my giggles got lost with the sounds of my steps on the glass staircase and rain heaved down from each side of the apartment.

******

It wasn't too long before we both ended up in the long leather chaise lounge in front of the wide television in the living room. All the lights were turned off except for the lightbulbs hanging from the thick silver wires from the ceiling in the gourmet kitchen. The odd intensity reflected off the thrashing downpour from the glass sheets covering us from the world outside.

We were both tangled up on the sofa with his old afghan in between us. I laid in front of Izhar with one arm draped across my tiny waist and the other tucked under my head. I anonymously watched the screen flash in front of me as Izhar wove his fingers in my hair behind me. His front was pressed against my back, the other arm holding my arm across my waist in place. His legs tickled mine as they rubbed between the blanket.

"You're really cold," he murmured as he kissed the ticklish spot behind my ear.

"I'm fine," I groggily whispered as his breath trailed from my ear and to my jaw. He'd already turned on the heater for me.

If only he knew what he was doing to me right now.... Every special sense was on rigid, waiting for the stimuli to activate it. My heart was still hammering in my chest, my lips cold and iridescent.

"I'll go get a comforter," he said and extracted himself away from me.

I smiled and slightly turned around as I grabbed him by the arm. "Izhar, really, I am fine. Thank you! Come back, your presence is enough to keep my warm," I rasped due to the cough stuck in the back of my throat.

He worriedly shook his head at me and hovered over me as I turned my back into the cool leather. He placed his forearms next to my head on the leather and leaned into my lips, his arms held up his weight from crushing me. I quickly covered his lips with my hand and moved my head to the side, my hair covering my burning cheeks.

I giggled and sniffled when his sigh vibrated in my palm. My toes curled inwards as I met his burning gaze. They smoldered with ash and were ignited with pent up lust. "You'll get sick!"

"No, I won't. I'm married to a nurse practitioner. I know the difference between catching a cold and catching a virus," he kneaded his head into my temple.

"Oh really?" I mocked.

"Really! I know other ways to keep you warm," he moaned before moving away my hand and sending my heart into overdrive.

After a few minutes, I rested my hot forehead against his chest. One hand was set on his abdomen, and his fingers gently swept my sides. I had to spring the proposal on him before I put it off completely.

"You know how Imaan jaani has been getting proposals?" I softly asked in a hushed tone. The rain pitter pattered around us in deep slumber.

"Yeah, she's only 21 though!" he exclaimed as he turned his head towards me, playing with the hem of my shirt.

"You know, I was 21 when we married," I teased him and kissed the muscle underneath his shirt.

"Sigh, I married a bachchi," he snickered.

"Ha ha ha! And I a buddhe ruh," I teased back while biting my bottom lip.

"First, I am a workaholic and tech freak, and now I am a buddhe ruh. Very funny," his eyes darkened.

"It is. Now back to the point! There was a proposal that came in, and no one had the time to tell us because it caused... um a sort of disruption between Ammi and Baba. That's what Huda Appi was talking to me about on the phone earlier," I whispered.

We didn't know what it was that compelled us to speak in secret hushed tones. The darkness from outside poured in on us like a vortex with the rain swaying our hearts and softening our voices.

"Who sent the proposal?" his voice was on edge as he circled his thumbs on my stomach.

"Kareem Phuppo was given the proposal to send to us," I shut my eyes, unaware of what would brew inside of Izhar before unleashing itself.

"And?" he pondered.

I couldn't sugarcoat anything. He would see right through me. It was better that I told him without any further stalling.

I leaned upwards and held his cheeks between my hands. "Listen. Azeem Maher's uncle or someone sent Kareem Phuppo a proposal for Imaan. I don't know the finer details, but apparently he wants to marry our Imaan," I couldn't even continue because Izhar terrified me.

His eyes darkened with terror, his fists clutched the side of my body as his teeth clamped together. "And, Ammi thinks that he might've changed and we should give him a chance," I flinched when he shot up on the couch, coldness covering me.

"Like hell we should!" his voice rose.

"Izhar! Baba denied Ammi's opinion, and we know that Imaan would never agree. They didn't know how to tell you so they asked me to speak to you instead. Baba will speak to you before he rejects the proposal, but Ammi is still upset and Imaan is scared out of her mind," I said gently and grabbed his shoulder, pulling myself up and next to him.

"Ammi wants to accept this proposal?" he said outraged.

"She thinks that he might've changed for the better and that he can keep Imaan happy," I said strongly.

He dropped his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his thick hair. The dimmed lights threw a soft halo around his head, making him look innocent and bothered.

"Is she serious? There is someone so much better than that bast-. Sorry! How dare that asshole bring a proposal to my house and that too for my baby sister?" He was absolutely and undeniably furious.

Each time he expressed his thoughts with expletives or was on the verge of doing so, he grimaced at me with a silent apology. Normally, I'd scold him for using such poor language, but at times like this, it felt oddly satisfying to hear Maher get bashed. Sorry Allah!

"I'm going to find him and smack some sense into him!" he reached for his phone on the coffee table beside us.

"Izhar! You will do no such thing," I said tenderly and he looked at me with wild and rumpled eyes. They were on fire, turning every exposed part of my skin into raw embers.

I took a deep breath before pulling his head close to mine from the nape of his neck and placing my forehead against his. I took his hand and placed it right above my heart, trying to deescalate the beat of his. He breathed in and out through his nose while his brilliant piercing eyes were shut closed. Once they matched mine, his fingers curled around my shirt, and his hand moved to hold my head close to his.

"Two wrongs don't make a right Izhar. He might be creating this facade so that he can get a reaction out of you. Don't let him win. You are smart, make the right decision by not arguing this any further. Talk to Baba, decline the proposal in a respectful way, and ignore Maher. Yelling at him will not make anyone of us happy. And think about Imaan. Poor baby is already upset that this ignited a dispute between Ammi and Baba. Now imagine what will happen to that innocent soul once she sees you so angry and furious. You're her brother, her protector, and she never wants you to suffer because of her," I whispered with compliance.

"I want to break every single one of his bones and put them all back in the wrong places. I want to beat him senseless for even thinking about my baby sister. How dare he?" he whispered with clenched teeth.

I let out a single chuckle and shook my head. "You have every right to feel this way. After all, you are the big brother, but Izhar! Sometimes we have to compromise our own desires for the happiness of others," I sniffled.

He still didn't budge, so I leaned in. Maybe Huda Appi was right, I had to use my charm. Our lips moved in sync. His spoke with anger and ferocity. He was rough unlike usual when he was gentle, but I didn't complain. He found his sanctuary within me, and I wouldn't dispossess him of his right. We were all helpless in some cases, and I made Izhar helpless.

We pulled away after long minutes of intense lip synchronization. Our panted breaths mingled and coerced with one another's but after a good 15 minutes, I stopped him, raising one eyebrow in compromise.

He exhaled a long breath before rubbing the back of his neck. "Promise you'll be calm and won't get mad at anyone," I titled my head to the side.

Izhar licked his top lip and pulled me towards him so I was sitting in his lap. I wrapped my legs on either side of his waist, tangling my arms across his neck. The old afghan pooled around my waist, all the coldness forgotten. He absentmindedly drew patterns on my back before laying his face underneath my collar.

"I promise," he mumbled unwillingly.

"And promise you won't go after Maher," I hugged him close, trying to protect him from the cruel dangers of the world.

"I promise. However, I don't like his name on those irresistible lips of yours," he placed small kisses on the neckline of my shirt.

I chuckled and said, "Is someone jealous?"

"I'll forever be jealous of any guy whose name your lips utter," he frowned with sad puppy eyes shining in mine.

I shook my head and scrunched up my nose, a thought surging in my brain. "Hey, I have idea!" I said as I looked faraway with excitement.

"Does it include you without clothes?" he asked unashamed, his lip curling up.

I thwacked the back of his head with a pillow on the sofa and angrily crossed my arms across my chest, moving his head away.

"I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself," he said and rubbed his face with an unembarrassed smirk.

"You're never going to change," I mumbled and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"And you'd never want me to! Now, tell me my beautiful wife's idea," he said and my blood rushed to my cheeks.

I could never stop my heart from palpitating when he gave me such wondrous compliments. Two and a half years into our marriage, and it still felt like the first six months.

"I'm off from work in two days for half a week, and Imaan and Sahar are both off from school for the holidays! Why don't we ask them to stay over? That way Imaan's mood will get better, and they'll keep me company. It will be so much fun!" I grinned like a little girl.

Don't get me wrong. Living with Izhar was something I would never change for anything else or take for granted, but after growing up in a house with more than two family members, it was nice to have more company once in awhile. I'd ask Sabr too, but she had an internship she was doing.

"That'd be great darling," he smiled at me and rubbed my cheek with the back of his hand.

"So should I call them?" I chirped excitedly with wide and blissful eyes.

"Nour, it's quarter past midnight. How about you call them tomorrow morning? We can pick both of them up after your appointment," he grinned back.

"Oh yeah. Okay! Yay, thank you, thank you, thank you," I placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek and he chuckled.

"Anything to get that glow back on your face and that twinkle in your eyes," he whispered seriously.

I smiled back and my mind was already planning what we would do and where we would go. This was going to be so much fun! Dear cold, you are not stopping Nour!

******

Izhar and I had picked up the girls after my appointment. I had some testing done, and results were to come in a few days time. I was sent back home with more medication, but this time antibiotics. It didn't matter how much I believed in the medical practices and laws of pharmacology. I disliked taking medications whatsoever, no matter the symptoms I was facing. Along with the results from my cold, my analysis' from the streaks of blood in my bile was still under intensive research.

The tension between Imaan and Izhar broke when Sahar quite abruptly asked them why they weren't talking to each other. The amount of manners and adulthood that little girl had mastered at age six was flawless. Since she was going to school now, she'd started to use a broader vocabulary and ask more complex questions. It wasn't that Imaan and Izhar were mad at each other, but more so that Imaan was afraid and upset, and Izhar was angry at himself. After a few tears that Imaan had shed, both siblings made up even though there was no break between them.

I took them to the arcade near the Boston harbor when Izhar was at work. The three of us enjoyed the slightly crowded boardwalk that was filled with the surge of rides, smell of freshly turned cotton candy, the sizzling of butter in the popcorn, and the oily and powdery goodness of the funnel cake. It was a day well spent. Sahar had fun, but the child inside both Imaan and I surpassed her excitement on outrageous levels. Working nonstop was tiring, and I almost felt that I forgot to enjoy the attractions so close to me. The whole day, we were out till Izhar was back from work. We'd shopped around in the vintage stores in the town center and skated in the ice rink that was placed in the middle of the town square with bright lights and spritzing waterfalls. Alhamdullilah for well-spent and relaxed days.

The three of us made dinner together that night, each one of us wearing a colorful apron. Even Sahar jaani wore a small apron we'd found in the children's apparel store with a chef's hat that was too big for and drooped down.

I had sat her down on the kitchen counter with a bowl of brownie mix and wooden spoon. Flour coated her round cheeks and pink dimples, and Imaan had swept her hair back in a messy bun atop her head. Sahar had told Imaan that she wanted my kitchen hairstyle. She found it oddly fashionable.

"How's the brownie batter looking cutie?" I looked up from where I was mixing in a few spices into the butter chicken.

"It looks deee-licious!" she flashed her teeth at me.

Imaan and I both chuckled in the way she said delicious, prolonging the 'e' and twisting up rest of the vowels.

"Bhabi jaan, should I plate the pilau?" Imaan asked over her shoulder.

I looked at the clock across the kitchen and then back at her. "Yes habibti! Your brother should be here any minute," I said and turned off the stove that harbored the butter chicken.

"What about the double chocolate chip brownies Mami?" Sahar pouted her lips at me showing her well mixed batter.

"Just give Mami one minute love. Let me just take this off the stove, and then we will put this in the oven okay?" I bumped my nose into hers and she giggled.

"Okie dokie!" she shrugged one shoulder as she very cunningly licked one of her chocolate covered fingers.

Imaan helped me plate the rest of the food, and then she carried everything out to the table when Izhar came home and went to freshen up. Sahar jaani and I poured the brownie batter into the nonstick backing dish, and she sprinkled more chocolate chips on top. She was a chocolate lover just like her Mami jaan.

As the brownie slowly cooked in the oven, Sahar enthusiastically told her Mamu about the day's adventures. She talked animatedly with her hands as I fed her her favorite foods. Imaan and Sahar's presence had instantly brought me happiness. They kept me entertained and intrigued even though my cold was being a pain in the donkey butt and hadn't fully subsided.

As Sahar soliloquized about the animal mascots that wanted to take pictures with her at the arcade and Imaan joined her, I caught Izhar watching me from the corner of my eye. Both Imaan and Sahar were oblivious as they theatrically spoke about the cotton candy and french fries. His lips were turned up in a small and gentle smile, his warm brown and piercing blue eyes didn't falter their gaze on me.

I became self-conscious as I scooped up a spoonful of pilau with chickpeas into Sahar's mouth and very slightly shook my head at him, to remove his eyes from me. However, he just smiled even more in return and his cheeks brightened at the sight of me catching him watching me. He shook his head and itched his forehead, diverting his attention back to his niece. I watched them both converse, and it brought a smile on my lips. He seemed so relaxed and happy....

That night as I tucked Sahar into bed, I thought about what would happen when Imaan and Sahar would leave the next morning. Izhar and I would become busy again with the same normal routine and carry on with our tight packed lives. There wasn't any distraction or any reason to take days off. We didn't have anyone else in the house other than the two of us. We were two leaves that mingled with our daily routines with the breeze with no stopping in between. There were no distractions, no wanted and necessary tangibilities... no child to hold us back.

"Mami jaan?" Sahar whispered from where she lay in the guest bedroom with Imaan on the other side.

"Yes my love?" I said and looked back down at her. We were both tucked underneath the duvet, my elbow on the pillow next to her, holding my cheek and hand gently patting her stomach in a slow rhythm.

"Are you okay?" she turned to her side and fully faced me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I smiled and kissed her cheek. "Yes my doll, why?" I mumbled into her hair as I stroked it up and down.

"You look sad," she weeped with solemn eyes.

My hands froze in her hair, and I checked to see if Imaan was asleep before I answered. "No, I'm not," I tried to reiterate perkily, but she wasn't buying it. She was smart to see right through me just like her Mamu.

"Yes, you are! Don't lie to Sahar!" she huffed and spoke in the third person. "Your eyes are sad, you're not smiling like you used to, and, and, and you get all quiet when you see me. You don't love Sahar," she whimpered.

My heart ached, and I was quick to console her. "Oh my dear jaani! Of course Mami loves Sahar. She loves her so much, that she's upset that you're leaving tomorrow. That's why Mami is upset. Because she will miss you so much," my throat closed up when I pulled her towards me and hugged her tightly.

"Really?" she whispered.

"Really," I kissed every inch of her face.

"I love you Mami. Don't worry, I'll come back again. Okay?" she flashed her dimples that could easily steal anyone's heart.

I laughed and smiled back as she wiped a lone tear away from my face. I grabbed her small hand in mine and kissed the knuckles before running a hand over her eyes, closing them before her. "Okay. Mami loves you too. Never forget that. Now, it's very late. Come on, go to sleep baby," I said and pulled her towards me, rubbing her back.

A few minutes later her breathing became heavy as it tickled my throat. I pulled away and made sure she wouldn't wake up before getting up, tucking the duvet around her and Imaan, and turning off the lights. Right when I was about to walk out the room, I found Izhar leaning against the doorframe with his long arms crossed on his chest.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Did you need something?" I whispered as I closed the door behind me.

The rods in the back of my eyes made out his smile in the dark as he securely clasped his hand in mine and walked us to our bedroom. "No, I was just waiting for you," he dropped a kiss to my head.

I wondered if he'd heard anything that Sahar and I had said to each other. If he did, he didn't mention it at all. I had a feeling he knew, but our silent hearts argued with each other instead of our voices, verbalizing our broken emotions.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Sahar is like you, she doesn't fall asleep without-" he stopped me before I could continue.

"Without kissing her Mami goodnight?" he murmured against my lips. We both smiled into one another and let the night consume us like the new moon that was malignant in the sky.

******

The next day, I felt somewhat better in the sense that I no longer had a lingering cough, and the runny nose had metastasized. Yet, my head ached and pounded in tenfold, and it was becoming nearly unbearable. That evening, Izhar welcomed me when I got home, and didn't let me do any of the housework since I wasn't feeling too well. I felt like I was going to pound my head with a hammer myself from the agonizing ripples of pain it sent between the two hemispheres. Izhar had fed me even though I had put up a fit, cajoled me to take medication, and then gave me a head massage that was soothing and reliving even though I told him I'd be okay. He'd sent me to bed early that night while he worked on his laptop beside me on the recliner, ready to bid my call any minute.

I drifted in and out of sleep when the ache in my head was too strong to let me allow to fall asleep. Every time I woke up with sweat poring out of my forehead and a strong thumping in my temple, Izhar would quickly rush to my side and ask me whether or not I needed anything. It wasn't too late before we both noticed that I was breaking out into a fever.

He'd suggested that he take me to the emergency room at eight o'clock in the night, but I'd resisted, saying that it would eventually subside once it completely broke free. He was starting to lose his cool and got even more worried when I peeled off my shirt and lay in bed in a short nightgown.

After an hour or so, the burning fever lessened and then left me completely, leaving behind small and shaky chills. Izhar had picked up my limp head from my pillow and moved my sweaty hair from my forehead. He took one of his Columbia hoodies from the drawers in the closet, and pulled it over my small body, instantly warming me up, trying to maintain homeostasis.

"Thank you," I smiled with slit for eyes when he gently placed my head back on the pillow and kissed my cheek.

"Of course," he winked with worry.

"I must look horrendous in this state," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood.

His eyes dilated, his lips set in a firm line. "Don't you ever say such mean things about my wife. You're beautiful no matter what state you are in. Prim and proper, or totally disheveled and rocking the sweaty hair," he winked.

I smiled back and his phone suddenly rang.

"Hm, I wonder who it is," he grabbed his phone from the side table and looked at the number. He quickly slid his phone to answer the call and got up from where he sat on the edge of the bed next to me.

"Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Khan," he said urgently.

I couldn't make out what the other person was saying on the opposing line. My head was too deep under water for me to make any coherent sentences myself. I felt myself slowly drift away towards unconsciousness.

"What?" Izhar asked in a stern voice and my eyes shot open.

His eyes were wide open, as is if the eyeballs would come out of their sockets. His hands trembled, and his face was pale like he'd seen a ghost.

I winced as I tried to prop myself on the bed. I moved my head away from my pillow and sharply inhaled and exhaled as I leaned against the headboard behind me.

"Izhar?" I rasped, but he didn't hear me.

He dragged a quivering hand down his sullen face, and he seemed tired and years older. He groaned like a stray and wild wolf, his chest coiled inside of his shirt, ready to be unleashed. He held his forehead with his hand and agony washed over him. Sobs racked his body and pain was etched in every muscle.

Something was terribly wrong. My heart constricted with anxiousness, and I called Allah's name over and over again. Who was on the phone? What had they told Izhar? Why was Izhar angry and crying all at the same time? Ya Allah!

"Izhar? Izhar!" I called over and over again, my heart ready to jump out with horror and alarmed panic.

His hand that held the phone dropped from his ear, limply hanging by his side. His eyes roamed faraway, tears angrily spilling out like an old broken faucet. I tried getting up from the bed, but I was too weak. He wouldn't look at me, and the ignorance thrusted in my heart like the sharpest scalpel. He wouldn't answer me and it paralyzed my whole body.

What had happened?

"IZHAR!" I screamed in a hoarse voice. My fear was getting the best of me, and my entire body convulsed with anticipation and fear as he turned on his heel and faced me.

Izhar's face was lifeless, pale, and forsaken. His eyes were crimson with an overabundance of salty tears. One look at his face, and my heart sank to my knees. My eyes filled with fear, and I covered my mouth unaware of what he'd heard and who had said what to him.

"Izhar?" I tried one last time in the softest and deadliest of whispers.

I gasped out loud when his heartless body sank to the floor in front of me. His knees crashed to the floor, a sharp thump echoing in the whole room. His head hung low and he shook his head while muttering "no" over and over again. He clawed at his hair, punishing himself as tears escaped the loveliest and most heartbreaking of eyes.

I terrifyingly moved a little closer to the side of the bed, and grasped him by his shoulders. "What happened? Why are you crying?" I shook him with my own unknown tears mirroring his.

He inhaled a sharp breath of air when his eyes met mine. What had happened that disallowed him to even meet my eyes?

"Izhar, you're scaring me," I pleaded.

"This is all my fault," he muttered to himself.

He was losing his mind, and I was losing myself. He kept muttering the same thing over and over again my anger got the best of me. I furiously wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and grabbed Izhar, shaking him with all the strength my tired body was left with. There wasn't enough energy my body could seek, but I put all my force behind each shake.

"MOHAMMED IZHAR KHAN! Tell me what's wrong! Please!" I begged as my own heart shouted at me for being so rough with him. It was as if my soul had already knew what was wrong, but my mind and heart couldn't come to terms with it.

"Remember when we went to the doctor's a few days ago, and they said they'd call us when your results came in?" he sounded so scared, it cut the strings of my heart.

"Yes?" I answered worriedly.

"They got the results," he took a deep breath before continuing.

"And?" my eager voice broke in anticipation.

"Nour, you're... pregnant," he whispered as quiet as a feather of a fallen archangel.

"What?" I gasped astonished.

My hands stilled around his arms, my breath got stuck in my throat, water pooled into my ears, sinking me down into the earth, and in that instance, my world stopped moving. The tears that were cascading down my cheeks froze in time, and like everything else, my heart lost its beat to his.

"You. Are. Pregnant." Izhar said strongly like the lost wind that wanted to race into the wild.

All this time I waited for you

And when you came back, I was at a loss of words

Death and life couldn't do me apart

But it seemed your return would make me suffer till I fully earned you back

Oh baby, you are the blood that runs in my veins

You are in the air that I breath

Kiss my lips with the song of loss

Seal me into the night

Because baby, I would die fighting for you

*runs for her life and into the wild wild West* ;P Um, I'm almost kinda sorta scared as to how you all will react to this, but I am so ready for your comments! Come on, hit me with them! I really hope that you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know that I have been taking the time to update, but please understand that I have other things going on, and my schedule is busy as my final exams are coming up. Remember to please keep me in your Duas. I will surely update whenever I get thechance. I don't like to deliver indecent chapters, so trust me when I say that I will always try my best to give a long and decent chapter. I'm trying my hardest, so please bear with me.

Anyhoo, as you all may or may not know. This story will soon be coming to an end. No this is not the last chapter, and I will definitely warn you guys in advance. We have a few more chapters to go filled with drama, pain, love, and lost wounds. I will also be publishing an epilogue, Q&A, and final author's note after the story is over! :D I know... this is going to be so sad. *sigh* *wipes tears away*

I will be taking questions starting now and up until a few days before I publish the Q&A. If you have a question you'd like to answer, you can PM me or write on my wall. Please make sure they are decent and pertain to the story in some sort of way. I have full right and power to veto any question I do not feel comfortable answering, so be nice and fair! And your time starts now!

Until next time, vote, comment, and share my Hayatis!