Hello and Salaam everyone. I just wanted to clear something and inform you all before we start this chapter and continue to the end of the story. I think I speak on behalf of all dedicated and original writers when I say that it takes a lot of time with precise execution and critical analysis to come up with an engrossing plot (at least we hope it's engrossing). We as writers, always want to deliver a solid storyline so that our readers can engage with all aspects of the story from the characters, no matter how major or minor, to the finer details. 

Thank you to everyone who has been leaving comments and messages. Honestly, I'm so overwhelmed by the response I am getting from everyone, and I truly appreciate it. The best thing is when readers tell us that they've connected with our story and characters as they have felt all the emotions that we've wholeheartedly tried to portray with our utmost ability. So, I'm truly honored! However, please understand that I have plans for this story, and the whole plot had been planned out way before I published my first chapter to the core and details. No matter what happens, I need everyone to have faith in hayatiofparadise! (: The plot of this story will not change no matter what, and after nearly the whole book, I'd like to think that everyone will respect that and my plans for this story... yes, even the ending! You all have to be just a little more patient and see what happens. 

Hold on tight everyone. :') 

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Thank you and enjoy!

The faint ticking of the bigger hand on the large glass and metallic cut clock interrupted the sounds of our laborious breaths as some were trying to regain their composure and others were running against time itself. The act of explaining everything to Bhaiya had been strenuous, but it was relieving to take breaks in between as he'd finished the sentences himself. I didn't have to say much as he had already been in contact with Jamilah and the head doctors and staff of the hospital including some of his health care colleagues from all over the country in the past 15 hours.

Izhar had called him during Fajr, pleading him to help in some way since he had the medical expertise and was the only person who could make me see sense. Bhaiya and I both knew that this was it, but neither of us had the courage to push Izhar anymore than I already had. 

We sat in the luxurious sofas placed in the living room, watching the Boston harbor sail away with all the misery one could ever imagine. My legs were bent beneath me, my white dupatta wrapped around my whole body and tucked under my legs as I'd rested my heavy head on Bhaiya's cut shoulder and stared at Boston's skyline with empty and invisibly weeping eyes. My arms were covered by the dupatta as well, while securely wrapped around my swollen stomach.

Bhaiya sat right next to me with the sleeves of his dark green shirt now precisely rolled up to his elbows that rested on his knees as he'd leaned forward with both hands clasped together and against his forehead. His eyes had been pinched closed while he thought and spoke aloud about the endless possibilities and treatments that were no option for me with the current state I was in. He'd raved his long and deft fingers through his hair and short beard multiple of times as he had walked around the living room in a stressful manner before he finally sat down. 

Izhar stood next to the large bay window wall across from us, his sculpted back faced towards us. He pondered the views outside of this upending cage. His arms had been crossed as he'd silently listened to Bhaiya, his forearms tight with anger and denial. 

Hours had passed, and some were spent with 'what if's', 'but's', and 'maybe's'. However, most of the time relayed in silence as we all understood the internal battles we were each fighting, but the saddest part was that neither one of us could come to a consensus. There was the one that had accepted her fate and was trying to hold on till Allah didn't deem her worthy enough, there was the one that was trying to find any explanation that could solve the problems with modern medicine but couldn't find the solution that he needed the most, and then there was the one that wouldn't allow himself to believe that his wife and/or his baby was going to slip away from him and that if he didn't come to terms with himself soon, then he'd lose them both. 

"What about inducing labor or operating earlier? Isn't that an option?" Izhar's voice had stopped the ships and boats from sailing away from the shores of the water as its quiet and musical hum interrupted our fighting breaths in the midst of the tension. He wasn't ready to let go, but he had to be. There was nothing left that could stop them from sailing away as their anchors were let loose. 

Bhaiya took a deep breath before straightening in his position, dragging a hand over his tired face, and slightly turning his head towards me as he grabbed one of my cold hands from underneath my dupatta and on top of the sofa seat. He kissed my knuckles, his ragged breath hitting the pale bones in return as they were greeted with my frozen body. He held it tight between his hands and rubbed them over again as he tried to bring them any ounce of physical and emotional warmth. 

My eyes bored into the back of Izhar's tall silhouette. He didn't dare to look back at me even once. The scared pleas in his voice echoed back to me, shaking my whole body to the innermost fiber while a tear involuntarily fell from the corner of my eye and swam to the side, seeking its shelter into Bhaiya's shoulder. 

"Labor can be induced under certain circumstances such as: previously having a stillbirth, a woman's water breaking but the labor not starting on its own, being pregnant for a week or two past the due date, a not properly functioning placenta, if the baby has preeclampsia, or if the mother has some type of acute or chronic illness like diabetes," his voice was fighting to stay collected, but no one could be fooled. 

It would've been easier to tell Izhar that I simply didn't fit into the category of induced labor, but he was the type of man that needed every small detail and piece of information before calling a judgement or decision. He was adamant in knowing as much as there was to know. It was one of the many reasons why he was so successful ma sha Allah and gave so much thought to everything no matter how big or small. 

"Nour and the baby don't fall under the categories, and at nearly 33 weeks, the baby is still not fully done developing, and it's not strong enough for the pressure in labor and delivery. The immune system is fully developed, but the longer we keep the baby inside, the better it is. The child itself isn't causing Nour any harm, so it's better to keep the baby inside as long as it's not a threat. And her body isn't a threat to the baby either. With or without operating earlier, we still have the same survival rates. 

It would've been a lot easier if the baby was causing harm. That way we would've been able to operate and monitor the baby till it was fully developed. However, it's more like Nour's body isn't reacting the way we want it to. Nour hasn't gained as much weight as she's supposed to because her body is repressing it. The baby's weight is already in question, but because of that, many other problems can occur as well. If we push Nour more than she can go or even the baby, then it might... it might be worse for them. And Nour already has a history of problems to begin with. Science has advanced on many levels, but you need to take every single thing into consideration," Bhaiya ended in a whisper in rhythm with the tides crashing outside. 

"Adeel, you're one of the top physicians in the country. I know you can find a solution because there has to be one. All I want is my wife and child healthy, safe, and breathing. Tell us what we can do because there has to be something. Anything. Anything at all," Izhar's voice was the harshest downpour of a thunderstorm. It was quiet but eerie, silent but deathly. 

"Izhar-" Bhaiya leaned forward on the edge of the seat as his hands stilled around mine, and my eyes pleaded with Izhar's back to turn around and look at me. 

Once. Just please look at me once. 

"No! I will not stop trying, and I will not allow anyone else from stopping either. I dare anyone to tell me otherwise, and I will not tolerate no for an answer," I could imagine his teeth clenching as the words spit fire with their havoc wrecking calmness. 

Izhar's tightened arms unwounded, and one hard fist met with the glass in front of him as he leaned his forehead against it. My heart bled at the sight of him breaking, and I was about to jump out of my seat and towards him when I stopped myself. My dupatta slid down one shoulder as I had unknowingly pulled my hand away from Bhaiya's. He turned towards me from where he sat beside me, and then looked back at Izhar. Understanding flooded through him as he silently tilted his head to the side and cupped my cheek in a plea to make up with Izhar. 

I gave one shake of my head and turned the other way, fully aware of Izhar's movements as he turned at his waist to look towards Bhaiya, but not me. The muscle around his hips twisted with one crash from the harbor down below as the tightly tucked in shirt to his dark slacks moved along with him. His muscle stretched and his breaths were intoxicated as they panted and tried to wrap around what was happening. 

I stared at the filaments in one of the light bulbs hanging aesthetically amongst many others on the cantilever by the fireplace until my eyes burned and the silent tears mingled with the harshness from the single source of light in the dim evening. I coiled an arm around my stomach as the gut-wrenching kicks from before returned. I kept a conversation going in my head with my baby, reassuring both of us that the kicks were now slightly more sharp than before because the amniotic fluid had lessened and this was common at 33 weeks. 

Nothing more. 

"I'm doing everything I can Izhar. They're looking over her reports and tests as we speak and getting the best of the lot on board. When I go in for my shift today-" Bhaiya was cutoff when his phone rang. 

Both Izhar and my head shot towards him, and I didn't miss the way Izhar's eyes lit up thinking that it was a doctor or professional finally telling Bhaiya that there was hope that things could be different. They'd both been getting calls regarding my situation but were at an impasse as they tried to conjure a full plan with no solutions. 

Bhaiya took his buzzing phone from the coffee table in front of us and upon reading the name on his phone, he let out a sigh and looked at Izhar and me. "Excuse me, it's Zarha," he whispered guiltily.

Izhar silently looked down and pivoted back on his heel, the flare of light dissolving in his hard brown and icy blue eyes while I gave Bhaiya an encouraging smile to take the call. 

"Hello... Walaikum asSalaam jaan," Bhaiya answered slowly, his eyes casted downwards as he pinched the bridge of his nose from the day's events. It must've been hard keeping things from Bhabi. They were one. 

I looked away with a small smile on my face, not wanting to intrude on the intimate moment and slowly got up. Bhaiya reached out for me, but I shook my head with the unwavering smile and contended him to speak as I extended out of my sitting position and moved around for a bit as my sore muscles stretched. I didn't meet Izhar's eyes even though I knew they were cautiously tracing each step I took and each move I made. 

I shut my eyes closed and deeply breathed through my nose once I turned my back to both of them and walked towards the kitchen to get lunch ready for Bhaiya and Izhar. I gently rubbed the bottom of my stomach while my other fingers skimmed the back of the couch and any surface it came into contact with, all the while trying to keep balance on my toes. My head suddenly started to spin as my fingers let go of the last wall between me and the kitchen, and my steps faltered. The dupatta caught over my minareted bangles I wore on either wrist as it sunk over the front of my kameez. 

The next few minutes rushed and bleared through my eyes before I could hold onto anything else. 

I gulped through my parched throat as my eyes blurred in and out and a sharp blow went right through my fragile ribcage. I gasped out loud, and my mouth dropped with a single loud pant. I clutched the material of my kameez around my stomach and tried looking down, but my head spun to no avail. I exhaled deep breaths and another rapid and sharp kick went through the left of my abdomen. I screamed at the top of my lungs as I heard the bones crush inside of me and my knees weakened below. 

"NOUR!" Izhar's voice yelled. 

My eyes widened with my mouth hanging wide open when the voices drifted away in the haze. My tear-ridden eyes rolled back into my head when my balance was no longer able to keep me on my flushed toes, and my knees buckled behind me. 

I was falling

And falling

And right as I was about to fall, two pairs of arms were ready to catch me. I could see Izhar grabbing the back of my head and knees as Bhaiya fell to the floor to support the rest of my body while they shouted beyond the capacity of their voices and my mind. 

One last gasp went through my chapped strawberry lips before my eyes met Izhar's glassy ones, and they begged me to hold on. 

But I had fallen

Fallen into the depths of his embrace

Fallen into the vortex of oblivion.

******

My eyes itched underneath the heavy blush lids as they tried to grasp the enormity of everything that was happening as life slipped through my fingers and revolved around its own pace. My right arm was wrapped around my slim waist, and it brushed under something rough and tight. My head was to the right and as my eyelids flew open, they steadied themselves on the view outside the wide and large cabin window. Bhaiya was now in his white coat, conversing with Jamilah, and the head of pediatrics as he gripped his head in both hands. His back was against the wall, and his flaring hazel eyes were tightly shut. Tears dripped down his eyes, and his face scrunched up as he slumped down the wall. I couldn't hear them, but something told me I knew what they could possibly be conversing.

I wanted to call out to him, but something stopped me as I felt a weight on my lanky left arm amongst the needles and tubes plastered to it. I slowly turned to the left, the roughness below the blanket brushing against my palm and my lips breaking free from top to bottom. Izhar's head rested on my arm, close to my stomach as his hands held my left hand in his. His closed eyes and lips were near my ring finger, as they silenced them with a secret kiss. 

My lips quivered as a tear fell out of the corner of his eyes and washed the diamond surface of my rings. My fingers twitched beneath him, drumming against the blanket over my stomach as the IV in my arm dripped and the monitors beeped normally. I bit my bottom lip as my eyes burned once more and sang their own tune of classic and majestic heartbreak. The fingers capsulated in his reached out in gentle movement to tug him closer, but his head sharply turned towards me with bloodshot orbs, hollow cheeks, and dark circles underneath his effervescent eyes as if he'd sensed the first call of retrieving breath. 

I could feel the fervor and desire that ran through my veins as every stimuli in my body wanted to press the pads of my fingers to the area underneath his stormy eyes and against the small crescent scar to see the color rush back to his face. The hungry want to kiss his tears away were way beyond me, but I couldn't come to terms to feel him over me as I was scared it would end in tragedy. 

He sat in a chair pulled up next to me and assessed me with wide and frantic eyes that had lost their glimmer and shine. There was no nour left in them. The dark wood and cold winter orbs touched me in every way that was the most sacred of touches felt by mankind as they roamed all over me. 

"Nour- N-Nour, darling," he gasped as he reached out to cup my face and kiss my eyelids and every inch of my face over and over again, making sure I was there wholly and completely . 

"Hey," I whispered when his lips were mere inches from mine. 

"You scared me so much. Do you have any idea how terrified and worried I am?" his quiet scold brought a smile to my heart. What I wouldn't have done to hear his voice geared towards me sooner. 

My eyelashes clumped together as they hitched and mingled with his. "The baby. Is the baby okay?" I was almost afraid to ask as he tilted his head to the side and brushed the small hairs away from my face. 

"Baby bug is just fine Alhamdullilah, but you cracked your ribs," he murmured as his eyes watched me with a questioning gaze. 

I exhaled a deep breath as I gently moved the blanket away from my stomach. Izhar watched every move of mine as they were scared to let me away from his eyesight for even once. Gauze and tape were tightly wrapped around my vulnerable torso, and I traced the inches of purple bruised skin with shaky fingers that peeked out from above and below the thick wrap. I swallowed a cry as I tended to the baby. 

Mommy is so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry baby bug. 

"Nour?" Izhar called out in an ominous voice. 

I looked back at him, and his eyes hid nothing as he continued. "What I can do to make this better?" his pained voice mixed in with the sound of the beeping machines all around us as the IV was close to finishing. 

"Oh Izhar," I breathed as I cupped his cheek and let our emotions speak for us. He was breaking, and he was only holding on till I was still here. He had to choose soon. 

He grabbed my hand that cupped his cheek and placed a kiss in the middle of my palm with frantic eyes as a silent understanding passed through. My head was slightly moved to the edge of the pillow where it met his, our free hands enclasped together while his other fingers grazed my abdomen and mine fingered the collar of his crisp shirt, our lips inches away as they exchanged the breaths in between like a holy grail of affection and consistent love. We stayed like that for what felt like a really long time but not long enough when a knock reverbrated throughout the large and private hospital cabin. 

"Hey, how are you feeling sweetie?" Jamilah said with a small wavering smile as she opened the door and popped her head in. Her and Bhaiya walked into the room, looking at each other with quiet reserve as they assessed the both of us. 

Bhaiya quickly walked to my side and kissed my forehead before grabbing onto my other hand that reached out for him. "Hey Nourie bear," he mumbled.

I gave him a small smile before the three of us faced Jamilah. She took a deep breath as her own eyes pooled at the sight of two hopeful men waiting for answers though the one on my right had known with all the forces in the world that we could only pray for a miracle now. 

"I'm okay. Sore, but I'll be okay," I gently nodded with determination set in my eyes and leaking through my voice. I was trying to make myself believe it while I masked my pain like I was conditioned to do. 

All the world's a stage.

"Okay," she slowly nodded. Jamilah didn't believe me, but she went along with it for my sake. "So, I already explained to Dr. Hameed and Mr. Khan that this can happen in some pregnancies while it's uncommon but not rare with a set of different possibilities. You are small with average height and an average body mass falling on the slim side with a... set of... um, problems included in your pregnancy both past and present," she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the nude heels clicking on the tile floor and scratched the perfect arch of her eyebrow all the while remaining composed. 

"Luckily, it's only one of the lower ribs on the right side, and we've wrapped and taped it up nice and tight. It'll hurt frequently especially when moving, coughing, or when the baby kicks. Hopefully, the baby won't kick you hard enough to fracture another rib. You've got a fighter in their Nouran, ma sha Allah," she met Bhaiya and Izhar's eyes before they fell on mine, and we gave each other a private smile. 

"You are free to go home. I've prescribed you something for the bruises, and they should heal on their own in sha Allah. I just need Mr. Khan to sign some papers before you guys head out," she nodded with a courteous smile. 

We all thanked her, and Izhar planted a longing kiss on my forehead before his fingers slipped away from mine and he walked out with Jamilah, leaving me and Bhaiya alone in the room. Before he closed the door behind him, Izhar glanced towards Bhaiya, and they both gave each other a single nod. A quiet assurance of some sort. 

Bhaiya looked back at me and ignored the question in my face. He caressed my cheek and looked away as he took in my condition and the monitors readings. 

My eyes lingered on the door even after Izhar and Jamilah walked out, contemplating the many things that Jamilah could be telling him. There would be added tension from her side, she didn't know Izhar's regard in accepting what the future held. She didn't know what he was thinking-  

"I'm sending Sabr over this evening to stay and take care of you for the time being. You need an extra pair of hands, and Izhar needs to go back to work. Or else he's going to kill himself by thinking about all of this and nothing else," Bhaiya quietly interrupted my thoughts as he worked around me. 

"Bhaiya, there's no need for Sabr to come over and stay. She has enough on her plate, and I don't want her to have to see my like this," I shook my head over and over again. 

"Nourie, she's on break for the next month. Her not being able to see you because of her hectic schedule or help you breaks her more day in and day out. It'll take some burden off the both of you, and it'll help you and Izhar," Bhaiya looked at me with his no-nonsense face as he helped me prop up in the bed and put on my shoes for me even though I'd objected. 

"Bhaiya- they can't know. We can't tell anyone," I said in shaky voice once he got up from bending on his knees and looked at me. 

"Nourie, I won't tell them, but you know that they need to know and they have a right to. We are your family," he murmured in a quiet whisper with glassy eyes as he purely looked at me for the first time. 

After he tightened the buckles on my shoes, I grabbed his hand before he could turn back and wipe his tears away from my vision. Bhaiya looked down and ran a hand over his already disheveled hair. He was always put together, not a hair out of place, but one glance at him now, and anyone would know something had tickled his weakness. His hair was in a disarray, his beard two days too late.  

"Bhaiya?" I whispered with a small smile. 

He looked up with red eyes, and I pulled him closer to the bedside. I reached out to wipe away the surface under his eyes and shook my head with the lingering tinge of a smile for his sake. He watched he with wide and astonished eyes as his breaths quivered by my fingers. He took my hands in his and gently kissed my knuckles. 

"Nourie bear, don't leave me, don't do this," he whispered in a low and broken voice that made my lips quiver with sorrow. 

I didn't have to tell Bhaiya anything because he knew me better than I knew myself. I didn't have to utter my side of the argument, he'd already picked up what my decision was. 

"Bhaiya, you have to save my baby. You have to save my baby, please," I pleaded under my breath as he slowly looked up at with frightened eyes. 

He shook his head and tears drenched his cheeks. "No, Nourie don't do this," his voice was grave as he understood what passed through my body in that moment. I had begged him and pleaded him, and I knew he understood. 

"Do this for me," I quickly whispered as I clutched his torso and cried into his dark green shirt with a wide smile, the tears wiping over my lips. 

"Nourie don't ask me to do something you know I can't," he held me close to him, and I let the warmth consume me that always protected me. "Just think what would happen to Ammi, to Sabr, to everyone. Izhar can't live without you. No one can live without you. For God's sake, I can't live without you Nourie bear. You're the sunshine, the smile, the life, and the love in all our lives."

"Then let this be the last thing I ask you," I pulled away and looked at him with broken eyes. His words had shattered every standing wall inside me, and if I didn't ask now, I wouldn't be able to ask again. "Please," even my whisper shook as I looked at him at arms length, and a soft rap knocked against the door. 

We both quickly wiped our eyes, and Izhar walked in with a lifeless face. His face was winter, fire, and ice. One look at him, and a shiver ran to the tips of my toes. 

"I was just telling Nourie that I'd send Sabr over for awhile, that way she could help Nour out," Bhaiya nodded understandingly towards Izhar. 

It seemed like they had already talked about this, and Bhaiya had persuaded Izhar into going back to work for the time being while Sabr stayed with me. There was a lot that the two had discussed, and it made my heart content knowing that the two had come to understanding each other. They had a common knot, and the ties had come from both my side. 

"Yeah, that would be very generous of Sabr," Izhar gave a fond smile and nodded as I tried to drink in his presence. 

There was spring in my hands, summer in my hair, fall under my feet, and winter in my ears as his eyes spilled the vial of intoxication. 

******

I sat with my legs stretched out in front of me on the couch with Izhar's old afghan that I'd taken into my liking spread over my lower body. As Izhar sat by my side and stirred the burning hot soup, I kept my eyes on him, not letting any ounce of movement past my eyes. I was holding onto something, someone that wasn't meant to be mine in this lifetime. Yet, I was blessed with mercy that even the time I did get with him felt like all the world's happiness. My head was tilted to the side as I breathed in his minty, dewy, and musky smell and as I traced the curves and ridges of his face. 

Izhar hadn't said a word to me since we got into the car to come back home the minute we left the hospital. He'd helped me change into a loose and long burgundy shirt that ran down to my mid thighs paired with ash gray leggings and fluffy socks to keep my pink toes warm. My hair was pulled away from my face into a haphazard bun at the nape of my neck. I played with the rings on my finger as I watched Izhar silently move in front of me. 

He sat on the edge of the coffee table so he could easily feed me the soup, while keeping his weight off of the dark brass wood. He blew onto the soup spoon before bringing the liquid to my lips. I quietly sipped and dabbed my lips with the napkin in my hand before shaking my head. 

"Izhar, please aur nahi (no more) baas. I'm full," I closed my eyes and implored. 

"Nour, there's only a few more spoons left. You have to finish this, come on," he gently scolded before bringing another spoonful to my lips. 

"Please Izhar," I pouted. 

"Please Nour," he finally met my eyes after what felt like forever, and I simply couldn't say no to those smolderingly hurt eyes. I was the reason for all the pain and grief they were dipped in and injected with. 

I noiselessly consumed the rest of the soup, and after making me drink some orange juice afterwards, he pecked the side of my head and got up to wash the bowl and spoon. Before he could walk past me, I looked straight ahead and grabbed his arm in my hand, ceasing him in his tracks before he could run away from me. 

"What's wrong?" I inquired in a feather of a whisper. 

"What do you mean?" his voice was in control as he bended the tone and muffled the screams. 

I exhaled a staggering breath and peered up to meet his eyes that were grazing every surface except for me. "You've been awfully quiet ever since you came back from Jamilah's office in the hospital. You've barely spoken," I reprimanded. 

"What do you want me to say?" his husky voice had given up. 

Don't you dare give up this quiet fight between you and me, Izhar. Scream at me, scold me, anything at all, but don't shut yourself away. 

I controlled my urge to say anything irrational as I took the bowl and soup spoon out of his hand, placing it on the table he'd sat on a few minutes ago. Everything was now in a race against time, and I couldn't help myself from wanting to reach out and capture time all together. 

"What did Jamilah say, Izhar?" I tilted my head back and inadvertently played with the fringe on his old afghan that I'd taken a particular liking to over the past years. It held something so tangible of Izhar that I'd grown accustomed to. 

A beat of silence passed through us, causing me to reach for Izhar's hand and pull him down till he was sitting in front of me again. Except this time he knelt down on the floor space between the sofa and the coffee table. His eyes were no longer trying to keep the tears at bay as they shamelessly slid down his prominent cheekbones and sharp jawline. 

"You want to know what she told me?" he asked gravely with a bounce in his head. "She reminded me that I had to choose. She told me we didn't have time, and that we needed to make a decision as soon as possible, so we could be ready for anything," he hadn't stumbled upon his words or stopped in the middle to wipe the stubborn tear that traveled its way to the edge of his upper lip. 

My nose tingled, my ears burned into the most absurd red until the warm flush spread to my cheeks, and my lips quivered with scratchy eyes. "And you want to know what I told her?" he nodded his head with a little more vigor this time as he leaned closer and pulled my shaky hands away from the fringe. 

His body language, his deeply broken voice, everything about him terrified me in ways that I didn't think were feasible because the man I loved was breaking in front of me into hundreds and thousands of a million broken glass fragments. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop him from shattering.

"I- I told her she didn't know you and me like we know us. I told her this was a moment of utter confusion, and it had to be someone's nazar (evil eye) that had bestowed upon us. I told her it was going to pass," his voice was the faintest of whispers, pulling at my heartstrings beat by beat. "I begged her to stop lying or whatever she was doing because this is a sick joke," his voice cracked before the deep rumble continued. "I told her she could do whatever she wanted to, but that I wasn't going to let you go no matter what. She doesn't know you the way I do, she doesn't know how much I love you," his breath fanned my cheeks as they froze the tears grazing my pale cheeks. 

"Izhar," I whispered for him to stop as my fingers fanned over his neck. 

He shook his head before he left a lingering kiss on my cool forehead, slick with beading sweat. "Shh, they don't know. They don't know our love Nour," he whispered to me one last time before pulling away and continuing to whisper it to himself. 

I tightened my grip on his hand and tugged him back to me before his composure fell along with his tired body He dropped back onto his knees like a lifeless body as his sobs racked into my body. Izhar's arms fell to the sides of my waist, and he buried his face and head into my stomach. I wrapped my arms around his head, pulling him in closer, trying to mend his pain and hold onto him, but his cries blasted through me like an explosion, and my own sobs kissed his head. 

I could feel my shirt sinking into my skin as his fresh tears blossomed a new growth, but I didn't care as the shore crashed and the boats sunk lower and lower. "Please, please, please don't go. Please don't leave me," his voice was scared and spilled over the floor like mercury, and the only thing I could do was tighten my hold on him and bury my lips into his head even deeper as his arms thrashed and his legs kicked. 

"Shhh, Izhar. Shhh, you can't be like this. Where's my strong husband? Huh? You can't break Izhar, not now, not ever," I vigorously shook my head at myself as I closed my eyes and let the water sink into my skin. 

"I can't be that husband without my wife beside me," his voice was fire to my lungs and ice to my veins. 

I held onto him for a little while longer before closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. I controlled my heartbeat before I opened my eyes and looked at the built in ceiling lights, praying for Allah's guidance. Bismillah. 

I sniffled and looked down at Izhar's head in my lap before caressing my fingers through his thick locks and kissing it one more time. I breathed in his heartbreaking scent as I straightened in my position and pulled his head up to face me. I cupped his cheeks and looked at him with a blank face. My eyes tingled at the sight of him. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were burnt, his cheeks famished, his jaw rough. 

"You have to choose the baby," I quietly dropped the last pin into a tower of wine glasses before they all came tumbling down. 

Izhar's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped as he bore his gaze into mine. My eyes didn't falter from their staring game, and after seconds, Izhar looked bewildered and shaken all at the same time as he mechanically shook his head back and forth. 

"Nour?" his voice was a hairbreadth of heartbreak, anguish, and sorrow. 

I didn't let my face morph in front of him as I sat still and heard the water on the bay crashing away. Even the mountains and the earth were begging me to not do this to him, but I had to. 

"This is our baby, and nothing in the world is more important to me than saving my baby," I had spoken the biggest secret that I had wished to keep to myself forever, and the way Izhar looked at me in that moment made me ashamed and made my skin crawl as if I had been keeping the biggest lie from him all this time. 

"Not even me?" his teeth were clenched as he pulled his face away from my hands, dropping them back in my lap. 

"You can't possibly ask me that," I shook my head at his irrationality. 

"Then is what you're doing not the same thing? Asking me to choose between my child and my wife?" he spat. 

"It's not the same thing Izhar!" I cried. 

"Like hell it is Nour!" he yelled within a whisper. 

I flinched and wiped my cheeks as he got up and ran his hands over his head. "We've been through this before, and if I have to live through it one more time, than I might as well be more dead on Earth than I would underground," I bit my tongue as he whipped back to look at me. 

His eyes stripped me bare to my core with one look, and I couldn't meet his eyes for any longer. I had asked for something that was more priceless than anything else in his life. Nour knew better than to ask Izhar to choose something over her. But I simply couldn't help it. Call me selfish, but this was my baby. This was our baby! 

"You're being selfish by asking me to choose anything over you!" he said in a slightly higher voice. 

"This child is everything I could've ever wanted after seeking you Izhar. This baby is you and me. How can I live knowing my child could've still been here? A child is a mother's most prideful possession," I bit my cheeks from the pain obliterating my entire being. 

"And a wife is her husband's," he ended. 

I shook my head, unable to clear my thoughts. "I love you Izhar, and I'll always be here," I vowed. 

"I don't just want you here. I need you here. How can you imagine for even an ounce of a second that Izhar could live without his Nour? You can't be that cruel Nour," he angrily demanded before staring me down. 

Neither of our eyes were ready to give up, neither of us were willing to let our guard down. "Life would move on, everyone moves on-" I started as I shook my head. 

Izhar scoffed in a humorless laugh before nodding his head to himself. "If the tables were turned, would you be able to move on Nour? Hmm?" his head curled to the side as his eyebrows angrily furrowed. "And don't you dare tell me it's not the same thing because both you and I know that it's exactly the same thing," his voice was frighteningly low. 

I closed my eyes and swallowed a gulp before compelling myself to say the next words. "You're mine Izhar. And I know you. I know that you love me enough to accept this," my voice tumbled and rolled. 

"'Accept this'? You're saying it like it's already been decided. You don't know what you're saying!" He was making himself believe something that he knew didn't exist. He was still painting a life where all the forces in the world would let us be together and whole. 

"You have to choose the baby," I repeated tiredly and wiped away the tears with the back of my hand. 

"Dammit Nour! I'm not letting you die!" he growled as he shook his head and pressed his hands to his eyes. 

"I'm not going to let my baby die," I said fiercely.

"And I'm not going to let you walk away from me!" he said. 

"You won't let our baby die," my voice was haunting. 

"And I'm not going to let you die either. Not as long as I live!" his voice was leveled, his eyes and tone in sync with mine. 

Neither of us were willing to back down, and neither of us were going to. 

And with that, the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of Sabr. 

Sabr (patience) was what we both needed. It was as if Allah's reminding had called upon us, hushing us into the night's silence. 

Everything was fair in love and war, and this was war. 

****** 

Sabr's visit was for the better in more ways than one. It had been nearly four days since Izhar and my argument for a lack of better term. We both had taken other things into consideration, avoiding the topic as much as we could as Izhar nor I was ready to back down from our decisions. We'd disagreed in the past too, but they were on smaller things and this was the first time we could not come to solidarity. We were both being stubborn and selfish in our own ways. 

I wanted my baby, and he wanted me, but no matter how much he loved me, I couldn't, and I wouldn't let him pick me over our baby because I loved him too. I knew I was hurting him, but I wasn't going to back down. 

Sabr had initially been worried after seeing me, but I'd made her see reason that the incident with my ribs wasn't necessarily a big deal as it happened in some pregnancies. She was a nice and quiet addition to our small family, bringing her sunshine and warming up the entire house with her presence. 

Most of her time was spent with the baby whether she chatted away or read books and stories to the sweet pea. The baby was definitely an instant favorite of Khala jaan ever since the announcement of its arrival, and her visit to the penthouse made her more closer than she could imagine. She'd stay up late and tell me everything that was going on from her studies to her work and to her friends while she would rest her head in my lap, and I'd play with her hair. It felt like there was so much to catch up on, and I cherished the moments that I didn't want to lose. When she wasn't with me, helping around the house and taking care of the baby or me, she was too busy being spoiled by her one and only dear brother-in-law. 

The two of them shared a great bond, and even though Sabr and Bhaiya were two peas in a pod, Sabr looked up to Izhar too. She'd trusted him out of all the men in the world to take care of me, and she was always in awe with the way we were in sync with each other. The brother and sister-in-law relationship they had was special, and a relationship I'd hoped would never break even after.... She'd trusted him to be the one with my heart, and I hoped with all my might that she wouldn't blame him when she didn't physically find me here the next day.  

Sabr knew something was off between Izhar and I, but she kept it to herself being the quiet observer she was. One thing I loved about my baby sister was the fact that she understood me without saying anything, much like Izhar. She never spoke much, but she was full of raw emotion, which made me closer to Izhar in more ways than one. 

The silence between Izhar and I was upending, and it killed me to see him broken and angry with the whole world. We never went on without speaking to each other for more than a few hours, and we never went to bed without making up. He never raised his voice, and I never argued with him, but this time something had changed in our relationship as our quiet argument brewed facets of lonely emptiness. I wanted my Izhar, but I was too darn stubborn just this once, and he was too selfless like always. 

Sabr was getting the bath ready in the en suite as I stood in front of the large mirror propped against the wall across from the wide wooden doors. I smiled to myself as I looked into the mirror and remembered the earlier days of pregnancy and how Izhar had made me feel beautiful that one time out of many when I couldn't recognize myself. But my smile fell away as I morbidly stared at my reflection now months later. I was in nothing but my bathrobe and my live corpse-like body was unworthy of even a second glance. 

My timid and large eyes stared at myself as my bone of fingers reached up to touch my face. My skin had lost its glow, now chalky and colorless. My cheeks were beyond hollow as the skin stretched over my bones and covered what lay underneath. My eyes were sunken, my eyelashes curled to the tips, hovering just below my eyebrows. The dark circles under my eyelids were uncanny and dark, diminishing sleep into a luxury. My hair was limp just like the rest of me, my lips parched and stripped of their color. 

I wasn't even myself anymore. 

As I stared at my reflection and felt my face, my fingers trailed to my collarbone. The bones were always prominent, but they had marks of shy beauty before. Now they were just fragments of hollow sediment that rested against my skin. My slim finger shook as they trailed down and over the cashmere of the bathrobe to the cord around my waist, holding both sides together. 

A slight gasp traveled through my lips as the water for the bath rushed through the walls of the luxurious bathroom. The sides of the bathrobe fell to the sides as I shrugged my shoulders out of the soft material. It caressed its way down my thin arms, and I stared at myself with revelation. I could barely recognize my own body as I stood their motionless under the fluorescent lights above me, whitening my face even more. There was nothing left inside of me except for the fragile build that kept me upright. The sides of my hips were vaguely visible as the purple and bluish bruises covered my lower abdomen. I winced as my fingers trailed over the spots, some yellowing and fading while others were larger and more stubborn that others. 

My stomach was round and the only part of my body that looked human enough aside from the bruises and the lasting hints of the day old gauze. My eyes watered at the sight of my broken body, as they traveled from my legs and up to my lifeless face, stopping at my stomach. My back seemed like it had broken into me as the dip in my lower back was more striking than before along with the slopes of my breasts and the curves in my shoulder blades. 

My eyes widened, and another gasp left my lips when I saw Izhar in the mirror right behind me. The doors of the bathroom weren't completely closed, and he stood between the slit that hid him away from me. I couldn't visibly see all of him, but the gap in the doors gave me enough access to trace a tear trickle down his right eye in the mirror as he assessed my body with wounded eyes. 

He felt responsible for everything. 

Even though I wanted to pull him into my arms and assure him that he wasn't at fault, I held myself back from making any move. Our eyes locked in the mirror, and we were both mirrors of each other's souls as my mind traveled to the past. 

I was standing in the glass cubicle as the shower from the water poured all over my hair and body. All the lights were turned off except for the single light directly above me. The shutters were closed from the window in the bathroom while the moonlight hid behind. I was limp, unspeaking and unmoving as I stared straight ahead and let the water wash over me. I had lost my first child hours ago, and now just like my baby had left me, every particle that had colored me a pregnant woman left me and buried itself away. 

I wasn't myself anymore, and no matter how much I wanted to, the tears didn't come. Something inside of me was holding it back as I took my first shower ever since I was discharged to come back home. I hadn't gotten to know my child's gender, I hadn't felt the first kick, I hadn't met my first baby. I closed my eyes as my hair plastered itself to my face, and the water ran over me in resemblance to a façade of tears. I hadn't murmured a single word let alone allow a single tear to fall. I was helpless in my own misery. 

I didn't know how long it had been since I came into the shower, and I knew that even after Izhar had left me with the water running, he was sitting right outside and against the door with his head and ear pressed to the wood. He was waiting for me to call out for him or for any noise that would announce the slightest of movements. 

It could've been minutes till his voice finally spoke out, and I knew he was just as close as I thought he was. My eyes didn't move from the Italian tiles on the shower wall in front of me as his deep and husky voice wrapped around my naked body. 

"Darling? You okay in there? Do you need anything?" Izhar's voice was like shattered marble to my ears. 

I stayed still in my position before sliding down to the shower floor that was beading with puddles of warm water. The glass cubicle was big and familiar, but my eyes didn't trust any part of it except for the tiles in front of me. I could feel the coolness from the exterior on my unclothed back, and it was the only thing I could hold on to. 

After what felt like hours, I could hear Izhar move against the door, and my body and head stayed still when the doorknob turned and the cool rush from outside evaporated the steam inside. His footsteps echoed and vibrated through the floor, and the shower suddenly seemed louder than before, thundering in my ears.

I could feel his equator eyes bore into the side of my face through the glass of one side of the shower, but I didn't meet his eyes with my own expressionless ones. I couldn't face him after I felt sick to my stomach, thinking that I'd stolen our baby from him. 

"Nour, love?" his voice was soft and soothing, melting against my dissolving body. 

I hadn't responded so he silently sat on the other side of the shower, quietly watching me through the glass. 

The tiles on the wall in front of me were rich colors of ice blue and pearl white with hints of midnight and sand. They were more comforting to the eyes than many other things that I was no longer allowed to sought. Drops of water from the shower bubbled along the slickness of the tiles, and some dripped down in multiple crystals of liquid. 

Time was moving slow, and something inside of me felt compelled to reach forward and turn the shower off while my eyes and the rest of my body stayed in place. It was a silent gesture that asked for his help as I remained quiet and still with uncleaned hair and an unwashed body. 

A soft sigh of relief escaped Izhar's lips before he opened one side of the double doors of the shower and stepped in. I couldn't see him with my eyes, but I could feel him, smell him, and breath him all around me. 

He moved forward and reached for my rose and cherry blossom shower gel before lathering it over my body and gently scrubbing every inch of me. Every minute I'd spent with my unborn child was washed away with purity, his hands smoothening the muscles in my back and releasing the knots in my neck. The tiles in front of me spied on us and blushed as it remembered many other moments like this that were rather spent with shy smiles. Oh how that tables had turned. 

Izhar didn't say anything, and I was thankful for that. He understood what I needed every moment of my breathing life, and I buried myself in the quiet silence. 

After washing my body, he reached out to first shampoo my hair then thoroughly condition it. His hands were lulling the soft pain that had evolved around both my temples, his hands caressing and moving through the long strands of my hair that ran to the middle of my back. 

The tiles were shameless as they reminded me the way my hair had been spread along its facets and grooves. 

I didn't move an inch to the left or right neither did I move forward or backward the whole time Izhar washed me. After he was done, he stood over me, waiting for whenever I was ready to let go. I mustered the courage to look away from the tiles as my eyes moved down and stared at my clean and stripped body. 

Our baby was really gone. 

I scrutinized every freckle and every flaw before I slowly wrapped my arms around my stomach. I waited for Izhar to say something, but he didn't, and the leftover water kept stripping me of my short motherhood. I closed my eyes; yet, the tears still didn't come. 

I took a deep breath and gently let it out before Izhar's footsteps shuffled around once more. Silent understanding passing through us like the language we both knew best. 

He grabbed something from the shower railing outside of the cubicle and moved towards my still body. He wrapped a large and fluffy towel around me, and I let him move my arms and hair the way he pleased. I could feel the biting cold from the tiles into my tailbone that I was once staring at. They knew so many secrets, but just like my voice, they remained silent. 

Izhar wiped away the remaining water in every crevice of my body, drying me to ones satisfaction and absorbing the water in my hair. After he was done and content, he grabbed my bathrobe and gently wove the sleeves through my arms. 

Once he understood that I had no intention of getting up and leaving my presence around me, he bent forward and stealthily picked me up in his strong arms, carrying me back to our room. 

"Appi jaan? The bath is ready," Sabr's soft voice beckoned from beside me. 

My eyes had remained upon Izhar's as I remembered the time he helped me shower after my miscarriage. His eyes were beseeching me with wounds in each orb, so I took a deep breath and pulled up the soft cashmere back over my frail shoulders, wrapping the ends back into their place as I looked away. 

Sabr gazed into the mirror, trying to figure out what I had been looking at, and her eyes widened as she saw Izhar in the reflection, not wanting to intrude in on our moment. Before she could say anything, I walked past the mirror and towards the tub. 

"Sabr, please close the door," I whispered loud enough for both of them to hear with a heavy heart. 

I slightly turned my head to have her look back at me with a question in her eyes, but I remained unmoved. She quietly walked up to the doors, and with a silent apology to Izhar, she gently closed the French doors. 

I closed my eyes along with the doors, waiting for him to move away, but he didn't. 

He was always there for me, waiting and being patient as he gave me as much time as I needed. But unfortunately, this wasn't something that could change over time, and I wasn't going to let go. 

******

The next night, dinner was a quiet affair, and afterwards was even more painful as the three of us sat in the living room with the television playing something mundane in the back. Izhar had sat in the single sofa as he typed away on his laptop, working on the last bits of his upcoming projects. Sabr had given the both of us time before she walked in and sat down next to me, seeing that the seat beside me was unruly vacant. 

The next few hours had passed in silence with only a few words exchanged here and there, and after awhile, I'd seen Sabr off to bed in one of the many rooms that were empty. The lights were all turned off except for the one in the master bedroom, the door creaked open. 

Izhar had retired upstairs with us, but something held me back from fully opening the door and walking in. My head turned towards the end of the hallway, and my steps were quick to follow. Before I knew it, my feet had elevated themselves from the floor and floated down the staircase towards Izhar's office room. 

I quietly opened the door, not wanting to disturb Sabr who was right above and nor Izhar who was waiting for me. I turned on the small lamp on the large table, and went towards the southern end of Izhar's book shelf. There was a spot that held all sorts of stationary and precious paper. I picked out the lilac and ivory one that Izhar had specially gotten customized just for me with my initials engraved at the top in rose gold lettering. I chose one of the many pens that were smooth to write with before retrieving to one of the chairs against Izhar's large study table. I sat down and put all the things beside me before starting. 

With neat handwriting I colored the page with all the words I had ever wanted to tell me baby in the many years that were yet to come. I wrote every memory and every apology that I could imagine with tears in my eyes and a smile on my lips. I wanted my child to know me and understand that what mommy was about to do was something I simply had to. I enunciated words of love, shared lines of poetry, painted memories that I had lived with Izhar, and all the things that had bound me to him. 

I had thought it through and concluded that leaving letters behind with Izhar was the best way to connect with my baby as our baby bug grew older. Izhar would be allowed to read the beginning letters, but once baby bug was capable of reading on its own, they would have to be hidden from daddy as I didn't want him to know how much of myself I was leaving behind. It would be too much for him to deal with. 

After I was done, I grinned at myself as I wiped my tears away. I would continue this ritual whenever I got a chance, leaving enough letters for my baby to read until they learned everything I had with wisdom and knowledge. 

I sniffled and folded the three letters that I had written in the past hour or so into their respective envelopes and sealing them with a kiss. I traced the fine letters of my initials on the front of the envelope, secretly smiling to myself as my fingers grazed the K for Khan. Even though I hadn't legally changed my last name after marriage, Izhar had never let a moment slip to make it clear that I was a part of him. 

I confidently held the envelopes in my hands as I walked towards the door when my eyes met Izhar's. His arms were crossed across his chest as he leaned against the doorway in his dark pajama pants and fitted navy blue long sleeves t-shirt. 

The filaments from the lights tickled the edge of his hair as they shined light into this tired and mystique eyes. My mouth turned into a small O as I looked at the envelopes I held in my hands and then back at him. There was no point in hiding them from him since he would have found out sooner or later. 

"I-I was, um. I was writing letters to baby bug," despite myself, I smiled with twinkling eyes. I felt connected to my baby through written words that I would never be able to say aloud. 

He looked down at my hands and my face burned from my forehead to my toes. Izhar exhaled a tired and hurt breath, making my smile falter off my face as he looked away. 

He remained silent before running a hand over his tired face and sullen eyes. "Come to bed, you need to sleep," and with that he slowly walked away with one last glance at me. 

I wanted to call out to him and reach for him, but I simply looked at the envelopes in my hands and brought them to my lips. I rubbed my stomach, but the baby was quieter than usual these days, understanding that something was wrong between mommy and daddy. 

"He'll come around in sha Allah. We just have to be a little patient that's all," I whispered comfortingly before turning off the lights and slowly making my way upstairs. 

I walked into our room and closed the door behind me. Even though I knew he wasn't asleep, the sight of Izhar's back turned away from my side was a low blow to my stomach, and I could no longer keep the tears in. 

This too shall pass. In sha Allah I would bring my Izhar back before it was too late. 

******

Dear Izhar, 

What ever happened to happily ever after? 

AsSalaamualaikum and Hello lovely readers! Ya Allah, we are down to the final two chapters. :') The next chapter will be the penultimate chapter, and if I hadn't said it before, then I'll say it now: You're going to want to hold on tight!

Please vote, comment, and share. Izhar and Nouran need your love more than ever now as they are close to saying goodbye! Make sure you let them know just how much you truly love them. ;)

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Until next time. XXXX