I know this chapter was supposed to be updated earlier, but because things kept getting in the way, I couldn't update. I wanted everything to be perfect for the chapter so held myself back from rushing it as well since I wanted to deliver a chapter that was my level best. I hope the wait pays off and is worth it by the time you all get to the end of the chapter. :) I'm handing out tissues, ice cream, and chocolates right now instead of like usual at the end of the chapter for your own benefit. :P 

Enjoy, and looking forward to everyone's votes and comments as we hit the climax of the story. All I'd like to say is that I love you guys. Thanks!

Dinner Date Video courtesy of the exquisite and charming "Sound Board": mas921 and the enticing and captivating "Madam Director": ssha1kh . You guys rock, and I love you guys more than you'll ever know. Thanks for the constant love and support. X♡X♡

Note: The video belongs to its respectful owners along with the pictures to their respectful sources as well, and it is under copyright laws of both Wattpad and YouTube. The song is called "Khuda Jaane" from the Bollywood Movie: Bachna Ae Haseeno. English traslation can be found here: http://www.bollynook.com/en/lyrics/8779/khuda-jaane/ No part of the video is allowed to be stolen, copied, or infringed upon in any way whatsoever, and if done, there will be legal action taken against that person(s) without hesitation. Much like copyright rules on MY story.... Seems like people are forgetting that there's a copyright notice on my story. #JustSayin' #YouKnowWhoYouAre #I'mWatchingYou

I quickly gulped down the rest of my orange juice before running the lukewarm water over the glass in the stainless sink of the kitchen. I scrubbed it clean as Izhar shuffled around the living room and got his things ready for work. It was a normal day as we both cleaned around, and got ready for work. I wiped down the counters, and Izhar fetched his leather messenger bag that he slung on his shoulder.

"Hey, I was thinking maybe we could go out for dinner tonight," his voice was deep and seeking.

I walked over and fixed my hijab in the large cut mirror that was perched on the cream wall of the long hallway. I looked myself over in the reflective glass and exhaled an inaudible breath, coning the scarf atop my forehead. "I don't know Izhar-"

"Look, I know you haven't been feeling too well for the past week. The IV's are wearing you down, your feet are killing you, your back is sore, and you're endlessly tired. You need to get some fresh air where you aren't working and are able to fully relax. It's Friday, why don't we go on a date? Hmm? Let me take you out on a date milady," he'd come up from behind as he wrapped his strong and sturdy arms around me and rested his hands below the front of my swollen stomach.

I looked at the way his tall and polished frame hovered over my average height perfectly like we were two corresponding puzzle pieces. His sharp nose rubbed against my jawline, his short beard grazing my raw skin. My eyebrows were furrowed as his breaths dug over my scarf, wanting more of what was underneath. He had been right however. The endless IV's were tiring me more than I was already fatigued going from minimal sleep in the past two months to none at all. Over the course of time, my back pain had increased as my weight was not sufficient enough to hold up both me and our baby, and my feet were ridiculously swollen. If my original condition wasn't bad enough from the the first two trimesters of pregnancy, it only had gotten worse in the last. The last 10 weeks would be the hardest battle, and it seemed like it wasn't going to end so easily. There was still a long way to go.

Izhar's long fingers deftly pulled me back to reality as his hands skimmed under the hem of my short emerald green dress that came to the top of thighs. I'd paired it with a black long sleeves cardigan, black tapered slacks, and a pearl statement necklace over my basic scarf. The warm and slightly calloused pads of his fingers rubbed small circles over my distended stomach, enveloping me with temporary ease that my body welcomed.

I let out a hitched breath before I turned in his arms and fixed the lapels of his dark gray suit and white and light gray striped tie. I licked my top lip that I'd lightly glossed and placed a feather of a kiss underneath his chin that was openly exposed to me.

"I would love to go out on a date with you and have dinner, but Izhar, I'm really tired, and maybe we can stay home instead?" I shyly peered into his eyes. His face fell as he looked over my pinched and extremely pale face and hollow eyes. "Trust me! I'd love to go, but staying home with you sounds more intriguing," I tried my best attempt to lighten the mood as I lowered my eyelids and peeked at him through my thick lashes.

He pulled me closer till my forearms were placed on either side of the strip of his rich satin tie. "Just say the words, and we can stay home, and you can sleep and rest for as long as you want. I'll lay by your side and hold you for as long as you need me to, but I can't see your body become more weak. I can't bear my fragile yet strong Nour weaken," his voice quavered, his eyes roaming with emotions that spoke the tunes of his breaking heart.

"Oh Izhar," I whispered as my mouth turned into a small O. He wasn't upset with the fact that I didn't want to go to dinner, but was disheartened with how my condition was deteriorating more day by day. I leaned forward and cupped his cheeks, pulling his face down so that our foreheads touched as I held my weight on the tips of my toes. "Hey, don't fret yourself. It'll pass in sha Allah. Just nine weeks and five more days!" I tried smiling despite the way my heart was thumping in my throat just as emotions swam on the rims of his darkened pupils and reddened sclera.

"You've got me worried darling," his voice came out with a strong depth that couldn't have gone unnoticed. 

It prickled the beginning and end of my spine as it moved to the tips of my toes, making them curl in response inside the ballet lace-up flats he helped me wear since I wasn't allowed to bend over. Izhar's eyes were closed, his arms tightened around me protectively, and fists roughened at the small of my back as the metal of his wedding band tickled its way underneath all the layers of my clothes.

I raked a sigh into his fervent lips before pulling him in for a warm hug. He kissed my head as I nuzzled my face into the side of his neck. Suddenly the baby kicked its way out, calling daddy's attention. I let out a throaty chuckle into the cool column of Izhar's neck before placing a small kiss on his suit-clad shoulder and moving away.

"I guess the baby is going to be a workaholic like daddy, reminding us you're going to be late for your meetings," I smiled, and he genuinely smiled back, running the back of his hand and knuckles over my cheek.

"Then I guess daddy will have to cancel all his meetings after the baby is born so he can spend more time with the baby instead," he wildly grinned and gave me a signature wink before pulling me back and tipping my chin up with two fingers.

"I guess so," I didn't let my smile falter and bit my bottom lip. Before his lips could touch mine, I quickly moved to the side and kissed him on his cheek instead, drinking in the musk from the shadow that lay upon his skin.

I walked to the side and wove my arms through my fall jacket as his eyes burned my flesh from behind. "That wasn't very nice," his tone was filled with scorn and mischief.

"Maybe if you behaved for once, you'd be rewarded," I retorted behind my shoulder with a grin and picked up my Kate Spade handbag and hospital badge from the table beside the mirror.

"Oh, I'll be rewarded either way!" he said confidently and leaned over to get the keys from behind me.

I glowered at him as he came closer till my back was pushed against the edge of the table. His eyes were lit, burning the embers behind the flames of desire. He grabbed the keys from behind me and only moved back a few inches. However, before I could step to the side and away from the cage he'd built with his body, he lowered himself on his knees, his polished shoes glowing under the chandelier and kissed the round of my belly.

I proudly smiled down at him and rubbed the spot he'd enticed underneath. "Bye daddy's love. Be good today, okay? Don't give darling mommy a hard time, and be nice to the patients at work. Eat your lunch on time, and don't listen to mommy unless she feeds you, okay? Say hi to Anam Khala, and make sure you take a lunch break with no work. Daddy loves you and will miss you dearly. I'll see you tonight darl- lovebug," he caught himself before he could say darling and left another longing kiss.

He held his palm against my stomach and waited a good few minutes before the baby gave him a high five with a kick. We both let out a chuckle, and he got back up on his feet. He didn't meet my teasing eyes as he tried his best to look everywhere except at me.

"And what about darling mommy?" I goaded.

He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and fixed his hair in the mirror behind me. "Mommy didn't give daddy a goodbye kiss. You deserve a timeout," he then looked at me pointedly and huffed before turning towards the main door and unlocking it.

"Aren't you at least going to say bye?" I provoked with a wide smile, showcasing my teeth behind his back as he stepped out without a glance.

"No," he growled and closed the door behind him.

I shook my head and turned off the lights before stepping out. He would come around eventually. I knew him too well. It was only a matter of seconds.

1...

2...

My back was to the elevator as I hummed in my head. I knew he was going to come back for his so-called goodbye kiss. He never left for work without one no matter what.

3...

I was locking the door when suddenly someone turned me around and pushed me into the large doors of the penthouse. I couldn't help but smile at myself as his smell of mint, rain, and him covered my presence and mingled in his.

4...

"Three years of marriage, and we still set the room on fire," he groaned huskily and kissed me roughly on the cheeks.

5... He was stalling.

He finally leaned in and pulled down my lower lip as he took in my scent, my voice, and my presence. My mind stopped working as the heartbeats threatened to push their way out. He hadn't touched me at all, except for gently tipping my chin towards him. Yet, my whole body ignited into sparks. My mind was a mess after he pulled away a few minutes later, tugging the bottom lip in a careless tease with an arrogant smile on his delectable lips.

"You taste like passion fruit. I like it," he licked his lips in an attempt to savor the taste sucked off my own with a killer smoldering gaze that dropped my stomach to the floor. He'd get a kick out of knowing that the gloss I'd worn today was indeed passion fruit. It would've made his head explode. "Be good at work darling wife. I'll see you tonight in sha Allah," he said and very carefully roamed his eyes over my body, not giving me a chance to catch my breath at all.

He walked backwards and disappeared down the stairs with a deathly grin splayed across his mouth, and I could hear his fast-paced gait as he tried to run against time. The boss was running late. I grinned as my cheeks flushed, remembering the way he'd looked at me and touched me in ways I didn't think possible only a few short seconds ago. I tried catching my breath as I leaned against the heavy door, my mind a complete heart jolting mess.

I shyly covered my face and shook my head. So much for wearing lip-gloss. He was impossible!

******

It was eerily dark when I stepped into the penthouse later that evening and well into the rise of the night after a long yet entertaining shift with Anam's remarks about her patients and her mom going overboard with the wedding prep. I looked around from the main door to spot Izhar anywhere since he said he'd be home early today, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Izhar?" I called out into the stormy darkness, but there was no response.

As I held the door halfway open, there were candles strategically placed around the room in transparent cylinders, setting the room into a mystique enlightenment. I slipped off my shoes with widened eyes, a sensation running up through my feet as the cool marble floor met the soles of my feet and the smell of fresh cut roses and freesia flared my nostrils. I let out a contended sigh and placed my keys on the table next to the door, and shrugged out of my light fall jacket.

"Izhar?" I called again and loosened the plain scarf around my head that had a half zipper design on the edges as I rounded the floor and placed my handbag on the table. 

From afar, I could see that the kitchen lights were turned on, but before I could walk any closer and meet the skyline penetrating from the glass windows and walk into the lavish gourmet kitchen, two strong arms enveloped me from the back. I let out a gentle gasp, but then sighed as he pulled me back into his demure escape. 

I tilted my head back on his broad shoulders, and he rested his chin on my shoulder bone, kissing down the milky exposed part of my neck as cold shivers ran down my spine. I was pressed against his chest, his heartbeat thudding behind me.

"Welcome home darling," his lips formed into a territorial smirk as his lips moved to the nape of my neck. 

"Thank you. AsSalaamualaikum," I smiled as his hands tightened over my stomach. 

"Walaikum asSalaam wa Rahmatullah," he said contentedly when his grip loosened.

As he turned me in his arms, I noticed that he was now sharply dressed from head to toe in a three piece black suit and white shirt, paired with a sleek black tie, and shiny cuff links donning his wrists. My eyes widened with a playful smile pressed against my lips as I assessed his appearance. He looked deathly handsome with his thick hair combed back and to the side, his jawline placated with a finely trimmed stubble and five o'clock shadow.

His eyes were alive, the swirls of blue intertwined with the fades of brown, and his lips played with the glow, smoldering an efficacious grin in the candlelit room. His bottom lip was fuller than the top and they breathed red wine within their cranberry contours. His sharp and à la mode black Armani suit reminded me of our very first meeting, leaving a small and shy smile faint on my lips that had been accessorized with polished black shoes. 

"I thought we were staying home," it sounded more like a question as the tips of my fingers played with the buttons of his shirt, running down his ripped and chiseled chest, the toned torso defined underneath. 

"We are darling," he said amused by something I'd missed. 

I inadequately arched an eyebrow and scanned the glowing room around him once again. "Then why are you dressed in a suit? And what's up with all the candles?" I watched him with analytical eyes and a curious gaze as his chuckles cajoled my nerves in understanding. 

"Well, I thought that just because we couldn't physically go out on a dinner date didn't mean we couldn't have one," he grinned, and his fingers stroked back the stubborn wisps of my hair. 

My face fell in confusion, and I stared at my wedding rings as if they could tell me the secret playing underneath the shadows of Izhar's eyes. "What's wrong?" he lightly asked and kissed the tip of my nose.

"I don't get it, what's with all the theatrics Mr. Khan?" I asked in confusion and thumped a finger to his taut chest.

"Nour, you ask too many questions! Now listen to me very carefully," his eyes captured mine in a spellbinding hold. "Go upstairs, and freshen up. I have set up a bath for you in the en suite, and there are some gifts on our bed. I want you to take a nice warmth bath and change into them, and then come meet me on the terrace balcony," he nodded, trying to make me give in. 

"What- what is going on?" I demanded as my hand curled up against his chest. 

"Shh! Baas. Now go, and take your time. Don't jump the gun on me," he winked, and I could make out the light pink on the tip of his nose. 

He disentangled his arms from around me and turned me towards the stairs. "I know what you're doing! You're getting me back for this morning, aren't you? Haye Allah Izhar, you're incorrigible-" I argued, and he simply silenced me as he moved me towards the stairs to our room despite my protests. 

"Are you done?" he arched a perfect eyebrow, making me scowl even more as he had mastered things I was very incapable of. "Now be a good baby wife, and please freshen up and change. I'll meet you outside darling," he gestured his chin up towards the top of the stairs. 

When I didn't budge, he smiled down to the floor and crossed his arms on his chest, his silver and black dialed watch peeking out from under his sleeves. "If you keep standing here like this, I may just have to carry you upstairs and take the bath with you," he whispered hellishly. 

I let out a whimper, which got me moving fast. I groaned and quickly but carefully walked up the stairs, trying to peek out from the corner of my eye to see what was out on the balcony as I ascended, but the curtains were drawn shut. Sneaky. 

"Nice try darling," he chuckled from the bottom of the steps catching me redhanded. 

As I opened the door to the master bedroom, I turned on the lights and gently closed the door behind me. I walked towards the large bed and slowly up to the foot though there was an excited skip in my steps I couldn't help or brush away. I eagerly looked at the long cream gown bag and tiffany blue square box, respectively big enough to hold with both of my hands that were placed on the neatly folded autumn duvet. The bag only had the black velvet hook of the hanger peeking above with the designer's name embellished over the bag in gold. My eyes widened as my fingers skimmed over the tiffany blue box, and I unconsciously sat down on the antique ivory and rustic gold chaise lounge beside the bed.

My heart got stuck in my throat as I gently opened the box. I was too nervous to see what was inside the bag. Izhar had always gifted me heavily, but there was something about the night, the way I was welcomed home, and the sudden surprise of goodies on our bed that made me equal parts nervous and giddy. 

My big chocolate brown eyes met with a deep royal blue jewelry box that was hidden inside the tiffany blue. I put the box to the side and gently placed the velvet jewelry box in my lap. With a slow creek, I opened the top and my eyes shined with the twinkle of diamonds and gems. There inside slept a thin diamond necklace with sapphires embedded in the slightly raised middle stage paired with two matching dangle earrings. My fingers touched the tips and edges of the fragile stones with care. The diamond and sapphire set was made with innovation and grace. It was fit for a lady who had a romantic fragrance of her own. I aww-ed under my breath and put it to the side, reaching out for the cream colored bag. 

I slowly unzipped the bag and met with a waterfall of sumptuous and plush cool colors. The long floor-length gown was completely embellished with Swarovski crystals and shimmery threads accentuated with single paillettes. It was a whole island of sequins and rhinestones that varied in color from top to bottom. My mouth fell to the floor as the heavy gown swished in my arms. The top and chest area of the dress was an exquisite white along with the top of the long sleeves that would end halfway down my forearm, trailing into a brilliant silver around my waist and to the top of my thighs, which cascaded into a thin band of lustrous maya blue, and from then on and to the bottom of the floor, it was a bold dark met blue pleats. 

My throat was parched as the dress shimmered and shined with every move of my hands or eyes underneath the light, throwing beams of prisms into the space around me from the work and crystals allover the dress. It was heavy, if not heavier than me, and there were only two words that could describe it: heartbreakingly gorgeous. The sleeves were precisely woven as some parts of skin would be shown from the sheer material since it was not fully covered with crystals, only a path carved with leaves around the top of the arms alike the top of the dress by the neckline and above the chest. 

I shook my head and closed my eyes as my thoughts consumed me. He can't be serious. All of this was worth a fortune, the name of one of the top designers in the nation highlighting the bag in glittery gold and the jewelers inside the the royal blue velvet box. Izhar was utterly careless when it came to buying me gifts and spending money on me. If I had my way, I wouldn't let him buy me anything, because I knew whether big or small, it would be too much. At that moment, I wanted to thank him and scold him, but I knew he'd gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable and relaxed as we had our date at home.

I closed my eyes and a shy smile invited itself on my face. Eyeing the large clock on the wall, I quickly got up and got ready for the bath Izhar had said he'd set up for me. 

As I opened the door to the ensuite, I was greeted with another surprise as my nostrils flared with the strong smell of lavender. Izhar hadn't just started any bath, but a bath full of bubbles and rose petals of pinks, reds, and whites all over the water that brimmed the rectangular jacuzzi. More intoxicating candles were perched on the edges. An involuntary chuckle escaped my lips, and I blushed from head to toe as I grabbed my towel. 

During the warm and much unbending bath, I'd lathered my body with the most potent of my body washes and oils, and afterwards, I'd smoothened and infused lotion and perfume that held tantalizing fragrances. I twisted my freshly washed and dried hair into a loose and sultry chignon at the nape my neck, a few tendrils framing the sides of my crème face, emphasizing my swanlike neck. I applied mascara to the thick lashes with a coat of kohl and eyeliner enunciating my large eyes. My lips were streaked with a dark passionate pink, my natural blush highlight my cheekbones and lightening my pale and dulled face. 

The nervousness and newfound excitement was bringing my old-self back in some way where I wanted nothing but what was happening now. The alluring dress had slipped over and down my body like silk on satin, accentuating my curves that had emphasized in the past 31 weeks, and the sharp angles of my body. The collarbone was exposed along with the inner parts of my shoulder where the ends of the dress secretly slid down only a little. The creaminess of my skin was bewitched along with the pale of my wrists and arms. After I was satisfied with the my rosy appearance and the intoxicating smell leaking from my skin, I timidly smiled in the mirror of the bedroom and pulled my dress up from the sides so I could walk around. 

I'd carefully picked shoes that had only a little bit of heel so it that would keep my balance and be safe at the same time. As I dropped my dress and slowly walked down the stairs, the pleats of the dress soundlessly streamed downwards as well, waving and crashing along the shore of the stairs. After successfully getting to the main floor, I looked around anxiously and headed towards the terrace. My shoes clicked and clacked against the darkened room of wooden and marble floor, but before I could open the doors to outside, my palms felt sticky with sweat, and a strange and hidden anxiousness took over. I felt like a newlywed bride as I tried to shake my head free. 

This was Izhar. I took a deep breath and opened the doors, the early autumn wind encasing me and calming down my pent up nerves and emotions.

The whole marble floor of the terrace was covered with thousands of red rose petals. They shielded every inch of the white marble floor, and not an glimpse was exposed here or there. My breaths racked in my ribcage in shallow gasps, and my eyes watered. Wide and large candles were strategically placed along the rose covered floor, lighting up a path with smaller candles around the wooden premises of the designed balcony of the penthouse. 

The sight was breathtaking, and my dress swished above the many petals that even if moved around gently with the drape and hem of the dress, wouldn't unveil the white marble underneath. As my reddened eyes lifted, they found their sanctuary who stood on the opposite end of the balcony on the risen steps of the platform. There was a small table behind him, the furniture of the patio moved elsewhere and replaced with two antique chairs opposite each other by a small and proportionate table. Silent tears marred my face as I tilted my head to the side and looked at the man I'd given my heart to. 

Izhar clicked away, capturing candids and precious memories in the moment with a wide and proud smile filled with awe. I shook my head and looked away, running a finger underneath my eyes and wiping away a stray tear of joy as I shrugged and smiled at him. I took slow steps to him, my dress carelessly swimming over the rose petals. 

"Ya Allah, have mercy on my heart," Izhar smiled with pink tipped ears. He put his camera away behind him and leaned over with an outstretched hand as the other clutched his heart. "You're breathtaking ma sha Allah," he grinned with a proud smile. 

I smiled back and whispered an inaudible thanks that was meant for more than thanking him for his compliments. I placed my hand in his, and he seated me down on one of the chairs. He first presented me with a bouquet of fresh and overgrown red roses that were extremely tall. The smell was a whirlwind of sober lust. 

The whole time I silently watched him as he presented me with Italian flatbread, bruschetta, and grilled seafood salad for appetizers. We chatted over the candlelight table as we talked about anything and everything. My laughter filled the gleaming night that painted the canvas around us. The cool breeze surrounded us in heavenly folds, the lights of Boston carousing above and beyond us and into the depths of the city as he didn't move his gaze away from me.  

Izhar had prepared a full course Italian meal under the wooden planked overhead of the cobbled patio with different types of pasta and lasagna. I knew he could cook, but I was impressed with his culinary techniques and the way the arrangements were made. The table held an abundance of red rose center pieces alike the surroundings with tea light candles. The freshly plucked red roses were new blooms, hold inside of antique candelabras. Two wine glasses partnered each other from opposite sides holding sparkling water and juice. 

There wasn't a moment when I wasn't laughing and smiling as he'd easily lifted all of me with care and courage. The crisp autumn breeze was just the right amount of flowing and setting the weather in perfection as we sat on one of the tallest buildings, overlooking the irradiate city. 

Dots of white, blue, red, and green graphed the whole Boston skyline around us, and it was simply mesmerizing. I couldn't remember the last time were I was stress-free and simply enjoying my time were nothing mattered. They say its easy to love once you learn how to, but they're wrong because it's easy to love when you have someone who is worth all the tears and smiles. I didn't know what it was to love and be in love with someone who cared about me so deeply until my life was graced with Izhar's presence. 

Loving him was effortless. 

"Is it good?" Izhar asked with a tender smile as I finished off the last of my basil and pesto Cavatelli with parmesan cheese and asparagus. 

I nodded my head and wiped the edges of my lips with the napkin. "Everything was very delicious. I'm impressed," I declared with a wide smile as I looked up at him and remembered all the vibrant colors in each dish. "Maybe I should take a break from cooking, and let you do it now," I challenged him as I took a sip of my sparkling water, keeping my eyes on him. 

"You know I don't mind," he leaned forward, moving his plates to the side. "However, I very much rather eat the delicious food my wife makes with love and care," he said and picked up the hand that was on the table and kissed my knuckles. 

I shook my head, and cleared my thoughts. "On a more serious note, I'm absolutely stuffed. Goodness! I don't think I've ate like that since months," I looked at him exasperatedly while patting my bloated stomach.

There was a look of pride across his face and a hint of success behind his bright blue irises that played hide-and-seek with the brown tints. "Then my work here is done!" he winked. 

"I bet it is," I groaned as I moaned about eating too much.

"But we are still not done for the night!" he said eagerly, watching me with amusement.

I raised my eyebrows at him and asked him what he was talking about when he answered that we didn't have dessert yet, and what kind of chef and husband would it have made him if he didn't serve his pregnant wife dessert especially on a dinner date? Before I could protest, he quickly got up with a few of the scraped clean plates, bowls, and silverware, asking me to stay put as he came out with "MIK's Special Dessert". 

I let him do as he pleased since he was so excited, and without a doubt, he'd done a spectacular and stupendous job in arranging a last minute dinner date. I wouldn't have imagined him to actually cook a full course meal, and thought that tonight would be a night with takeout and cuddling on the couch. As always, he'd outdone himself, and left me breathless as he'd presented me with a three course gourmet meal with the right amount of spices and secrets of a cooking extraordinaire. 

It seemed like he hadn't even gone to work at all with so many rose petals scattered everywhere along with candles showcased in glass cylinders. Everything was planned to the last detail, and as I sat on the raised platform to the east side of the terrace balcony, I couldn't help but be thankful for my blessings under the Boston skyline and harbor premising our skyscraper. Everything was in itself, bespoke and utterly heart-ascending. 

My thoughts were pulled back to the present as Izhar cleared his throat and stepped up to the platform with two white serving bowls and small tasting spoons. I smiled at him as he bowed his head like a true gentlemen and placed the bowl in front of me. 

"Cookies and cream for my darling," he said sweetly and moved to his side of the table.

I leaned over like a little girl and grinned at the contents of the almond shaped ceramic bowl. It was none other than store bought cookies and cream ice cream he'd bought three days ago because I was insanely craving it. I shook my head at myself and bit my lip from the earlier possibilities. This was the very "MIK's Special Dessert". 

"What's wrong?" he asked with an edge in his voice. 

I looked up with heated cheeks as his eyes widened in anxiety. I bit my tongue back from saying anything and tilted my head to the side as he raked a hand through his thick hair in troubled demeanor. 

I fondly tilted my head to the side and scooped a piece of the cookies and cream onto the shiny small silver spoon. I licked my spoon clean and moaned under my breath in indulgence. I closed my eyes and sighed contentedly as I bit into the hardy piece of the cookie. I opened my eyes and Izhar's turned from worried to highly amused as they didn't move an inch away from me. My cheeks flushed from the intensity of the gaze, but I tried my best to not look away.

I lowered my eyelids and looked up at him. "Nothing! I love cookies and cream. This is the best dessert anyone could serve me," I said.

His eyes darkened, and he scoffed as the tips of his ears and nose turned a bright rogue pink. He looked down at his own bowl of vanilla ice cream and grinned unruly. "Well, I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't make a proper dessert for you," he said and swallowed a small spoonful of his cold delicacy.

I grinned and fondly grazed my fingertips over his knuckles that sat the middle of us. "That's okay, don't worry! Izhar, you did so much. This is more than enough, and it's the thought that counts," I said with and impressed expression, my eyebrows reaching the top of my forehead. 

He chuckled and leaned forward to fondly swipe a finger below my lip line. "Good, now finish your ice cream before it melts," he pointed his head towards my bowl, and I indulged every grain of the delicacy as if it was my first time having it. 

After we'd finished dessert, we headed back inside, the breeze turning slightly frigid. I helped Izhar carry the rest of the dishes, bowls, and cutlery inside, but before I could step into our large kitchen, Izhar called me out. 

"Wait!" he said, and I halted, a few footsteps away from entering the sliding French doors to the grand kitchen. 

"What's wrong?" I asked and looked towards the kitchen though he blocked my view. With his Six foot four height, I couldn't get an inch from beside or above him.

"You had a long day, and tonight's for you to rest. Why don't you go relax on the couch, and I'll join you in a bit after I get these cleaned up?" he questioned with a dubious insecurity in his voice. 

Izhar could never lie, and something told me with the way his eyes didn't meet mine and he shifted his weight from one leg to another, there was something wrong that he wouldn't tell me. 

"Don't be silly Izhar! You worked so hard for tonight, and the least I can do is help you wash and put everything away," I tried to sidestep him, but he blocked my path as the heavy dress prevented me to take any steps further. 

"No, really darling! It's just these bowls and a few plates. It's not much," he tried to argue in a soft voice that was laced with undeterred determination. 

I gave him a brazen glare and he looked down to his feet. He shook his head and let out a defeated sigh. I waited for him to move to the side, and when he did, I happily walked into the kitchen feeling accomplished. But after taking four steps in, a small shriek left my lips and my eyes fell out of their sockets. 

There were pans, dishes, bowls, and utensils everywhere with half opened boxes of uncooked pasta. My legs moved on their own as they inspected the dark flour covered marble countertops littered kitchen accessories amongst small puddles of several pasta sauces, cheeses, and herbs. I audibly gulped and turned back to look at Izhar. His eyes were slightly closed, ready for my wrath, but nothing came out. 

"What happened?" I said in a quiet and horrified whisper as my eyes took in the kitchen galore of mess. 

"Umm," he anxiously scratched his eyebrow and placed the plates and glasses he was holding on the table next to him, shadowed by the hanging mosaic light bulbs above him. "Well, you see-" his words came out in a rush. "I got out of work early so that I could do some grocery shopping for tonight and make the arrangements perfect. I didn't know where the time had gone, and by the time I'd come home with everything I needed, it was half past into the afternoon. I started the preparations for the meals, and little did I know that it would take so long! Before I knew it, there was only an hour left before you were scheduled to come home and I hadn't set up the terrace or had gotten ready. I- I didn't have time to clean everything up, though I tried to do half when you were in the shower as I heated everything up and prepared the things last minute outside," his words flowed out in a rush, barely in breaths in between. 

While he spoke, he'd raved his hands down his face and scratched the back of his neck. I'd tried to hold back my laughter as he spoke in a highly theatrical voice with nervousness and cute guilt. Izhar had gone to such lengths to make everything perfect, and here he was worried that he hadn't cleaned after himself. 

"You're laughing?" he asked horridly as I covered my mouth with the back of my hand.

I'd placed the things I held behind me on the kitchen island as he spoke, and I couldn't help the way he felt guilty like a little boy getting caught red-handed for stealing multiple cookies from the cookie jar. 

I let out an innocent chuckle and watched his disbelieving eyes roam around the kitchen in shame. "Izhar! It's fine, it's just a little mess, and with the two of us, we'll get it cleaned up in no time!" I said and leaned against the kitchen island, amused with the simplicity in his stress. 

"You're not mad?" he asked in a soft tone. 

"Of course I'm not mad!" I threw my head back in laughter. 

"Alhamdullilah. I feel really bad for making such a huge mess. You know I always clean up after myself, and the guilt was gnawing at me the whole time. I wanted everything perfect and didn't want to disappoint you," his voice dropped a few octaves. 

I watched him with pure devotion in my eyes and ruefully smiled at him. "You can never disappoint me Izhar! And everything was beyond perfect," I clarified in more means than one, instantly making his lips stretch into a slow and wide smile. 

"Good," he winked and started picking up things around him. 

I looked over my shoulder at the pan I'd discovered as he'd mindlessly mumbled about this cooking and working ethics a while ago. I grinned down at the steel pan and its dark brown contents that seemed jiggly in the middle and burnt around the edges. I had a strong feeling I knew what it was, but decided I'd tease him further. 

"Izhar?" I called, and he looked at me as he walked towards the sink with empty glasses and plates. 

"Yes darling?" he asked seriously. 

"What's this?" I pointed at the tray on the counter and his eyes darkened and face flushed with shame. 

"Dammit," he mumbled under his throat receiving a questioning glare from me. He let out a deep and long sigh before rolling at his eyes at himself and taking off his suit coat and loosening the tie around his neck. "I tried to make chocolate cake because I know it's your favorite, but something went wrong, and I ended up burning it," he mumbled, shamefaced. 

I couldn't help the grin that threatened to swallow up my face whole. "It's not funny," he scoffed and rolled up his shirts sleeves after discarding his suit coat, tie, and cuff links. 

"I wasn't laughing," I tried my best to make a straight face, but once he looked down to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, my grin cracked over my face, and I couldn't help the fit of giggles. 

He glowered at me with a scrutinizing gaze, but I couldn't help myself. "Did you set a timer Mr. Khan?" I mocked the world's youngest and most successful businessman and entrepreneur who was riling with fury. 

"I don't need a timer!" he said condescendingly and started washing the dishes. 

"Oh really?" I asked as my fingers itched towards the untouched and burnt/cooked pan of chocolate fudge cake. 

"Yes, really," he replied curtly but stopped when I dipped one of my long fingers into the pan and held it up between us. 

He didn't say anything as he watched with arched eyebrows. I winked at him mischief and slowly dragged the chocolate fudge covered finger over my plump lips. His bright blue and radiant brown eyes haunted mine as they watched me with a stormy heart that was visible. After coating my lips, I ran my tongue over the top and bottom, tasting the fudge off of them and licking my finger clean. I rolled my tongue in my mouth with a serious look on my face before catching his untamed self. 

"Hmm, it's not that bad. Maybe next time add another egg and set the timer," I advised with a pleasant smile as if nothing had happened. 

But the deep rumble in his coiled chest suggested otherwise as he held himself back from pulling me towards him. He shook his head at himself and turned back to the sink with a loud and displeasing huff. He was definitely going to get me back for this. 

******

By the time we'd cleaned up, it was nearly midnight. We were sprawled on the long black leather couch in the living room. Izhar was no longer wearing his tie or suit coat, only his waistcoat with the sleeves of his white shirt folded to his elbows and the first few buttons undone, giving glimpses of the concrete ordeal underneath. I was still fully dressed in my long gown, but Izhar had undone my hair into soft and breezy loose curls that lay on my shoulders and to the middle of my back. Izhar laid behind me with his arms tightly encircling my waist as I faced the television, one of his legs thrown over mine protectively as his head rested on one arm of the sofa, and mine rested on his chest. 

His frantic fingers were slowly moving across my exposed milky shoulders, as he'd pulled down the sleeves lower, and they twitched and cursed the smooth band of skin on the top of my back along his fervent lips. He whispered sweet nothings in my ears that made my toes curl and every inch of my body flush in return as pangs of electricity set me on fire. 

Before we'd settled down on the couch, we'd blown out all the candles with only the long lamp in the corner of the living room turned on. There was a hue of iridescence in the room that painted shadows across the floor. Izhar had massaged my swollen feet though I hadn't wanted him to, and then he moved to my shoulders and back. He'd teased me about wanting to unzip so that he could release all knots in my neck and back, but I'd warned him.

"Hey, I have something else for you," he whispered as he kneaded his into the back of my ear.

My eyelids fluttered closed, and my voice came out in a rasp as my ribcage tightened. I ignored the sudden thump and continued instead. "You've already given me everything that a girl could ever want, what else is left?"

His chuckles bit back in sharp edges as they vibrated through my skin and to the core of my body. "Anything I give will always be considered less in front of what Allah SWT gave me, and that is you," he said with a kiss placed beneath my earlobe. 

I shuddered against him and lost myself in the way his lips carved a path from my shoulders and to my jawline. "Keep your eyes closed darling," he commanded, and with a loss of words I simply nodded. 

My heart jumped as he moved behind me, an arm still encasing me to him. After some shuffling and my eyes twitching with impatience, he placed something hard and thin on my stomach. "Open," he beckoned with a kiss on my head. 

I opened my eyes, and a big square memory book in pastel colors sat on my stomach with the support of one of his hands. I gently turned my head to look back at him and he nodded in encouragement. My dainty fingers pulled it closer and the pads of my finger moved over the smooth binding of the baby book. My eyes smiled, and my lips grinned as my hand moved over the pocket of a random baby picture as a sample in the middle of the cover. It was a baby memory record book that was waiting to be filled with pictures, and memories our baby. The binding and the pages inside all colorful and abstract with slits and pads of intrinsic paper. 

"It's to keep record of the memories we will share with our baby in sha Allah," he smiled into my hair. 

"It's so precious," I gently said, utterly spellbound while happily and slowly going through each page with care. 

"You like it?" he asked and ran his hand over my soft hair. 

I nodded and said, "I love it!" I moved my head back a fraction and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for. Check out this page," he skipped a few pages till he met the one he was looking for. "It's a parents' letter page where we can write a letter to our lovebug," he exclaimed. 

I fingered the jeweled border of the light blue and lilac page as he grabbed a pen from behind his head from the coffee table. He handed it to me and nodded as I thought it through. We whispered to each other in hushed tones as we decided the words that would print their way through in both of our neat handwritings. We wrote about love, longing, impatience to meet our baby, and the patience that brought us this close with so much in between. Subhan'Allah. We told the baby secrets of how everyone was so excited to meet him or her, and how mommy and daddy learned to find love and seek comfort. 

It was a moment of serenity that was masked with so many emotions, feelings, and both delivered and undelivered actions. As I wrote the note, my mind completely transfixed into another realm that only had the dreams of finally being a happy family with our baby, Izhar had expertly undone the zipper of my dress. 

I hadn't noticed till moments later when my back felt cold, and the kisses he planted lower and lower got hotter, making my insides fall to my knees. Before I could turn around and protest, he'd captured my lips hungrily in his and closed the memory book, placing it to the side, all the while keeping his eyes on me and lips on mine. Within seconds the precious diamond and sapphire necklace was unclasped from my slender neck and the earrings loosened and put into my hand that was in a fist against his chest. 

There was no room left for words. 

******

Halfway through the middle of the night, I tossed and turned in bed as Baba jaan's words echoed in my ears from a few nights ago. What was he trying to tell me?

I had been trying to figure out what it could have possibly hinted at as I remembered every detail of the exquisite dream clearly. However, every time my mind reached some type of conclusion, it ended with a dead end where there was no meaning to my madness. I knew the dream had to have some profound depth as I had Wudu before I'd fallen asleep and nearly five minutes later, the alarm for Fajr had gone off. Subhan'Allah. They say there are three types of dreams: those from Allah SWT, those from Satan, and those that our brain makes up depending on what we had been thinking about constantly and the last thoughts before we went to sleep. Those from Allah are clearly marked as pure if they are seen before Fajr and Asr and remembered clearly along with the content and smallest of details.

I knew that it was some sort of sign from Allah SWT, but either I was at a loss for a stable conclusion, or my mind and heart didn't want to believe the possibility my soul wanted me to learn. Something told me it was the latter.

Shaking my head clear of my thoughts, a cold wind passed over my body that was dormant in the room. I snuggled deeper into Izhar's shirt that I'd pulled over my small bird-like frame and round tummy minutes before. As I turned around to turn off the bedside lamp, I saw Izhar's precious and priceless camera right next to it.

Looking back at Izhar's peaceful sleeping figure that was motionless and snug against my own body, my lips stretched into a grin. He was sleeping on his side with an arm protectively around my waist, the other hand cupping the cheek above his tightly clutched mistress pillow. His kilted like clay torso was exposed, the duvet stopping right above the band of his black boxers. The small lamp beside me threw dark silhouettes over his honeysuckle skin, and I couldn't help but blush from the night's intimacy as I'd felt each ridge under my fingers.

Slowly moving to the side without waking him up, I grabbed his camera from his nightstand and turned it on, grimacing from the noise it made from hitting the ON button. He always took pictures of me whenever he wanted, and now it was my turn. I'd played with his camera a few times before as he'd taught me how to use it. Smiling mischievously, I propped up on the bed and moved over him. I laughed in small vibrations as I clicked away pictures of his peaceful and sleeping face. I took a few shots here and there, impressed with the handy work that I'd collected. 

This was payback Mr. Khan! 

But it wasn't long before he mumbled in his sleep and picked up his head from his pillow to look at me with half-open, intoxicated eyes. My cheeks flared as he caught me taking a picture zoomed in on his face. 

"What are you doing?" his voice was the drug of nightingale, personified in its own oasis. 

"Umm, I- nothing! I was just... looking through your pictures," I was a terrible liar, and he could see right through me. 

"Nour?" he turned so he was fully facing me in my sitting position. 

"Fine, I was taking pictures of you," I mumbled after being caught. 

His face was wicked as he sent me a lopsided grin and dragged a hand over his stubble. "I didn't know my wifey found me sexy enough to take pictures of my sleeping form in the middle of the night," he chuckled in a soft voice. 

I hit him with my pillow and he pulled me towards him, resting his head in my lap. "I couldn't sleep!" I said honestly. 

Izhar turned his head towards me, and I turned off the camera, putting it away. 

"Another dream?" he asked with a line forming between his eyebrows. 

He stretched his arm up and cupped my cheek as my hair formed a curtain on either side of his face. I shook my head in his hold and smoothened the line on his forehead. "No, just haven't been able to fall asleep." 

"Hmm, interesting," he said. 

Izhar moved his head away from my lap and pulled me down next to him, turning off the bedside lamp. "Come here," he whispered and pulled me closer till my head was right next to his heart. 

He dwindled a single finger up and down my spine will the muscles relaxed underneath his hold and my breaths became repetitive in the same tune as his. "You need rest Nour. Close your eyes, I'm right here," he whispered into my cheek and hummed a gentle lullaby before my eyes closed on their own and I fell asleep in my husband's arms. 

 ******

The soft and plush petals of the strong smelling and freshly budded rose caressed the side of my face and tingled the small hairs on my back, standing them on edge. I shifted my head on the pillow beneath my head and my hand that was rested next to the side of my face on the pillow. I moaned untroubled, while my eyes fluttered under my dark pink eyelids. A small smile ran against the line between my lips while a deep and familiar chuckle shook the budding petals on my sensitive skin. 

"Nour, wake up darling," he smiled into my cheek and pulled away as my eyes peeled themselves apart. 

Izhar sat next to me on the side of the bed already fully clothed except for his dark maroon tie that hung around his neck and under the folded collar of his pressed shirt. I turned to the side closer to him, curling up in a fetal position as my morning sickness begged to come loose. 

Izhar's freshly showered aroma climbed up my nose, and made the turmoil inside of me calm down. He played a small red rose over my face, tickling me and waking me up in the softest of gestures. I smiled at him, and he smiled back as he combed a hand from my scalp and to the end of my wild hair. 

"Good morning beautiful," he grinned and bit the side of his lip as he reached for a cup of rose tea that sat on my beside table. 

I muffled my yawn the back of my left hand and slowly got up, pulling the duvet closer to my waist. I wore nothing but a loose long sleeve shirt of his that was comfy and wallowing me in cottony goodness, coming past my thighs. 

"Good morning," I sleepily murmured with foggy eyes.

He chuckled and handed me the porcelain and golden rimmed cup of rose tea. "I'm sorry I woke you up early. I thought I'd treat you with breakfast in bed before I left for the day long conference in Hartford."

I remembered that Izhar had a conference early today at 8:30 in Hartford, Connecticut for the whole day, and it was nearly a two hour drive from Boston. Though I'd insisted he stay in a hotel over the night, he'd bargained his way out and finalized that he would be home tonight regardless of how long it took. 

I took the cup of tea in my hands, the warmth spreading into my hands and to the rest of my body from the blush it sedated upon seeing Izhar after I'd opened my eyes. My body felt like it was on fire as his eyes tried to meet mine, but they sought everything except for his own. 

"Thank you, but I told you. You should've woken me up earlier so I could've fixed your breakfast," I said over the rim of the vintage cup. 

"Don't be silly. We both fell asleep pretty late last night," he winked before continuing. "I know you're tired, and I already feel guilty that I can't be there for today's appointment," he voiced sadly and grabbed the tray from the bedside table.

The tray was filled with pitchers of different fresh juices, a bowl of fruit, with a plate of small jams and different types of croissant. There was an assortment of breakfast foods on the platter, and as we both discussed what I needed to tell Jamilah about my back pain and refills of some medications, Izhar made sure I had a little bit everything and a full and hearty proportion of breakfast as he sipped his black coffee. 

Before Izhar left for his conference, he lectured me on what to do at the appointment and told me to listen intently to everything the Ob-Gyn said. I nodded along as he seemed anxious, worried, and guilty that he was missing one of my appointments. I'd kissed his cheeks and tied the tie he'd purposely left undone around his neck as I saw him off to the main door of the penthouse.  

He'd left a longing kiss on my forehead, but it was hard to for me to let go of the lapel of his suit coat as something from late last night was unsettled inside of me. 

******

"How are you feeling?" Jamilah asked in a professional tone after we'd finished some blood work and sat in her office. 

"I'm okay other than the increasing back pain. I think I'll need a refill for that medication since it won't go away and seems to be only getting worse," I said honestly. 

Jamilah nodded and made notes in her iPad as she confirmed my eligibility for the medications of high power and dosage. 

"The baby has grown somewhat more in the past four and a half weeks since we started your IV's. It's little but good advancement! So that may be the reason why your back pain is increasing. I wouldn't worry about it too much, but I still want you take the medication I prescribed for it," she nodded and looked at me with tense eyes, and I nodded along. 

Since I'd walked into her office building, Jamilah seemed distant. There was a fear lurking in her eyes and undoubtedly in her voice that made a presence upon my arrival, and it'd quenched my stomach in nervous knots. 

"Okay," I said gently. 

After a few seconds of typing and clicking away on her computer and iPad, Jamilah grabbed a large manilla envelop with my name printed on it. I couldn't meet her eyes as she slowly took out my papers, and her voice started my mental and physical demise, counting down to the piece of information that would demolish my whole world in a few short minutes. 

"Nouran, I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen very carefully," she said slowly, and begged my eyes as they lifted to her. 

I gave her a single wavering nod, indicating for her to continue. My palms became unnoticeably clammy, my forehead slick, and hands shaky. I had never wanted anyone by my side in that moment more than ever before. My heart was pounding erratically, and I had no idea as to why my body was suddenly acting up. 

What's wrong Nour? There's nothing to be afraid of. Oh Mama ki jaan, we will be okay in sha Allah. 

But I was wrong. So, so, so wrong. 

"My dear, before this pregnancy we knew there could be a multitude of complications that you, the baby, or the both of you could face whether this was a successful pregnancy or not. You've come very far ma sha Allah, but your body is just not responding how it should, and keeps weakening. You're deteriorating from the inside, and there- there are very few chances of knowing if you'll still be up to nine more weeks and four days at the pace things are going and headed towards," she stopped abruptly and tried catching her breath. She looked heartbroken and drawn. 

No, this could not be happening. 

"I, I don't understand. We are nearly there. In sha Allah after hitting 36 weeks, there's nothing to worry about right? It's not too far, we are almost there," my voice was shaky and low as I securely wrapped my arms around my stomach. I was trying to convince myself than reassuring either one of us.

My breaths were shallow, my brain no longer working and profusely pounding in my temples. What was going on? Why was I acting like this? What was Jamilah trying say?

"Nouran, your body is having a hard time compensating for you, and the condition you are under. The child is one more living organism that it has to compensate for, and at this point-" she shook her head. "You aren't stable enough to keep you both... safe," she whispered with a crack of glass. 

I shut my eyes closed, and suddenly it was extremely hot in here. No, no, no. This is how we broke it to patients... we started off understanding and calm and controlling. But then everything was out in the open in no time. 

"What are you trying to say?" My eyes were far away, my voice not angry, but simply defeated. 

There was one thing, one thing that all the forces in the world had tried to tell me, and deep down I knew it to some extent, but I didn't want to believe because I simply couldn't, but now I was at the end.... There was no going back, and there was no denying what waited ahead for me. I couldn't keep lying to myself anymore.

Tears dripped down my face, pattering to my lap as my vision lost its focus. Jamilah's voice came out in ragged breaths. "Nouran, you and your baby are both in very critical condition my dear. Anything can happen at any given moment, and there is zero guarantee that both..." her own tears were falling by now. "That both of you will survive upon labor."

....I didn't scream, I didn't thrash, I didn't yell, I didn't speak. 

Everything inside of me fell asleep in that second, and gave up and let go of the strings of the balloons it was holding onto as memories of life, love, and liberation. One by one, they flew away, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do to bring them back and hold them to my chest. 

I never hated having the vast medical knowledge I had before that one moment that brought all my hopes and dreams come crashing down and swirling into a vortex of oblivion. 

"Nouran? Dear?" Jamilah shook my lifeless hand, but I couldn't meet her eyes. 

"I'm listening," my voice was scratchy as if I'd screamed my lungs out, but I hadn't because there was nothing left inside of me except for my baby. 

My baby that I would die protecting and keeping alive. My baby that was the gesture of the love Allah SWT had very kindly given me. 

"I didn't want to tell you by yourself, but you had to know. At this point, we doubt that you'll go into labor after full-term, and it's going to be a guaranteed caesarian. However, after a lot of research and analyzing, none of the doctors could come up with a solution. I'm so sorry, but we could be only able to save one life..." 

Her voices drowned with all the others that swam through my mind. I didn't know how I pulled myself out of her cabin, but within seconds I was up and out of there. I couldn't see where I was walking and where I was going. All the voices in the hallway swarmed around me like a lifeless body sinking to the bottom of earth's surface.

I walked down the white hallways filled with the smell of bleach and chlorine. The lights above were too bright, too luminescent. I can't think. I can't look straight. I can't breathe. Everything was blurry. I touched my cheeks and felt tears cascade down to my chin. My steps faltered. My heart wouldn't stop beating out of my chest.

"I'm sorry Nouran." She had looked at me sadly, eyes filled with emptiness.

No, no, no. What am I going to do? What am I going to tell him? Him. Izhar. I can't breathe.... Allah.

And just like that, a life filled with innumerable memories came back to taunt me with the fact that they would no longer be mine. 

:'(

Comment your thoughts.

Where does this lead us, and what will happen to Izhar?