"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Abdur Rehman asked, leaning against the breakfast table, looking at all the ingredients his wife had spread out.

"Yes," Rafa beamed, adding a measured cup of cocoa powder to the all purpose flour and baking powder mix. "I think I am making a lot, you can maybe drop some cookies for Yahya?"

Hearing that, he groaned, "You know how I don't like to step out on Sundays, Rafa. If it's not with you-"

"Abdur Rehman, you should be socially active-" She reminded him good-naturedly. Scanning the counter for the small jar of cornflour, remembering how adding a spoonful of it will make the cookie crisp on the outside and chewy from the inside.

"Can you bring me the cornflour from the pantry?" She smiled, wiping her cheek with the back of her palm.

Making double chocolate cookies to satisfy her sweet cravings was not on her cart but the cravings had hit her so hard that she couldn't deny her nafs. Abdur Rehman had insisted that he would pick them up but she was feeling bored, not doing any house chores. It was not intentional though, initially when she came back home, she wanted to help out Tayyaba in the kitchen or make Abdur Rehman breakfast but the smell of any savory dish made her nauseous. She hoped her love for baking and the rich aroma of butter and chocolate would not be a threat.

"I am, jaan," he replied, coming out of the pantry after taking a moment to find it. He kissed her forehead while handing her the small jar,"You should visit me at the office someday."

At that, Rafa's eyes glinted in newfound joy, "I would love to."

Abdur Rehman grinned, "Manahil calls my co-workers minions."

"What? Why?" She laughed.

To answer her question, he nodded, "Because she thinks I'm grumpy and killjoy."

Rafa stared at him. "What? No you're not!"

He quickly peeked outside the kitchen to check if his mother's bedroom door was closed. "That's because I'm different around you." There was that teasing look again in his eyes, increasing Rafa's heartbeats. His caramel brown eyes, the exact same pairs which were more warmer and mellow than the rich milk chocolate batter Rafa was stirring, stared at her with mischief, before he hugged her tightly, licking away the raw flour she had mistakenly wiped on her cheek.

"Abdur Rehman-" Rafa protested in surprise.

"Oops, sorry!" He cheekily replied, retreating his arms from her abdomen and taking a step back. "I couldn't resist."

Rafa elbowed him lightly, "You should leave. You aren't letting me concentrate." Her whines only made him laugh more.

"Okay." He took his arms up in surrender, "I will be in the living room in case you need me. I will help you locate an ingredient or to carry you to our room if you feel tired."

Rafa wiped her cheek again, "Don't tempt me with your athletic skills, go now."

"You wound my heart, Rafa."

"Dear Allah, give me patience," hearing her sincere dua, Abdur Rehman cracked up, anyhow leaving her to finish up what she had started, even though annoying her was something he enjoyed doing in his leisure time.

As he sat to look through the TV to watch something, his mind was wandering again and again to Rafa. Many times, he paused his fingers from clicking the remote only to lean on the sofa end and check if she needed him, and when he saw her immersed in her work, he resumed his search on the lit screen.

Often, he thought he had discovered her completely. He believed that he knew the way she would react to certain situations, the way she beamed, what brightened her spirits, when she would frown. But after she became pregnant, things were never the same as before. Even a small miswording could make her tear up, and he had to remind himself time and again, how vulnerable the pregnancy was turning her.

He always applauded himself for his tolerance, of how he put his family in front of him. Of how much they meant to him, more than his own needs. Yet, he had never felt as insufficient providing them as he felt now.

He could see something bothering Rafa, sometimes, he even felt it bare in front of him, but his eyes failed to perceive. Since the moment she was back, in feeble touches, in sincere kisses, in care filled cuddles, he thought he had spoken volumes about how much she truly meant to him. She had made herself a permanent owner of his heart and no one held a single chance to attain it. Still, after giving so much of him he felt like it wasn't adequate.

What more does she need?

To him, actions proved more than words. He had never once confessed to his mother about how much he valued her, yet never a day went by without him showing it to her. He could see in her every reaction that whatever he was doing, satisfied her, made her feel content. But with Rafa, it was different and he was ready and learning to verbalize the immenseness of his feelings.

He was content with Allah's decree, all he wanted now was to live happily with his wife and mother. And even though things were taking shape now, he prayed with all his heart that it won't cause anyone any sort of hurt in the process. For he could tolerate his heart breaking apart but never could he imagine the same to Rafa or his mother. He truly hoped that one day, everything would fall in place.

Every single issue will be sorted out. Everything will turn out to be pleasant.

He was grinning at the prospect of a better future when his mother walked into the room. She eyed him on the couch before her eyes flickered towards the kitchen door, where the gentle noise of pots and pans rang.

"If you're here, who's in the kitchen?" Tayyaba asked.

"Rafa."

"Abdur Rehman! Why did you leave her there alone?" She exclaimed.

"She told me to leave," he defended. "She'll call me if she ne–"

"Abdur Rehman?" Rafa's voice cut through as if on cue.

He hauled himself off the couch and hurried to her. "Yes?"

"I can't find the chocolate chips, can you find them for me, please?"

"Sure." He searched in the pantry and then brought them back. "Anything else?"

"No. Thanks, you can leave."

"Ok."

He had just made it to the living room when she called out again.

"The white chocolate chips too, please?"

He ducked under the sink to look for condiments and candies they would save for snacks and desserts. "Here." He stretched out his arm to give her the bag. "Anything else?"

"No," she said dismissively, too focused on stirring. "Thanks, love you."

"I'm glad she's well today," Tayyaba said to him when he got back. She had taken his place on the couch and was now picking out a Pakistani drama.

"Yeah, alhumdulillah." He let out a low sigh. "I really worry sometimes. Her morning sickness and—"

"Abdur Rehman!" Rafa called out again.

"Be right back," he said to Tayyaba before rushing to the kitchen. He appeared a few minutes later, his hands wet after washing and drying the mixing bowl his wife wanted to reuse but didn't have the hands to. "So I was saying...the morning sickness and general sensitivity to smells only affects her, right? Or does it harm the baby in any way?"

"It's caused by the baby, but it only affects her," Tayyaba explained. "It usually eases in the second trimester, but everyone's different." Abdur Rehman leaned into his mother, letting her run her hands through his thick hair. "With Manahil, no one even detected that I was pregnant until I was ready to pop. With you," she gently slapped him on the arm. "I was bedridden for weeks."

"I gave you trouble then, but later I was a good boy, Api became trouble later on."

"Abdur Rehman!" She scolded him, but a laugh escaped her lips, because both of them remembered very well the amount of times they had to rescue Manahil from situations, before and after marriage.

"Is that why you're being so nice with Rafa?" He asked in a whisper. He felt Tayyaba's body stiffen. In the days leading up to Yahya's engagement, things had become tense between the mother and son, and he hadn't shied away from implying that his mother wasn't treating his wife well enough. Rafa's return had changed things overnight, and he couldn't help but wonder what had caused that change.

"The baby," Tayyaba whispered. "She's carrying your baby and my grandchild. Do you know how long I have waited for someone to carry our family name?"

Abdur Rehman sat up straight to look at his mother. His eyes carried a question in them.

"Don't look at me like that." She said to him. "It might have taken me a while to accept her, but she's no longer just my son's wife, now she's the mother of my grandchild. She's a valuable part of this family."

Abdur Rehman's lips trembled just the slightest, before he crushed his head into his mother's bosom, hugging her just the way he did when he felt like a little boy.

Unknown to any of these developments, Rafa worked silently in the kitchen, only thinking about the sweets she was going to eat and send to her family. Yahya didn't admit to it, but he too loved indulging in sweets. She could imagine his face when he would see her famous double chocolate cookies.

Maybe I could make some cupcakes too.

She quickly set the cookie trays in the oven and started on the cupcakes batter. The kitchen was smelling of vanilla and cookie dough when Tayyaba walked in.

"It smells amazing in here," she commented, eying the freshly laid out cookies.

"They taste amazing too," Rafa said, gesturing to the cookies. She handed her mother in law a napkin to pick up a warm cookie. "It has the white chocolate chips you like in your ice cream. I don't know how Abdur Rehman managed to find them, I thought we were out."

She watched Tayyaba take a cautious bite, afraid that it might be too hot. As soon as she started chewing, Rafa waited for her reaction.

"I don't know how you do it," Tayyaba said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"The cookies?"

"Yes." She nodded, taking another bite. "But also how you have him wrapped around your finger." Rafa's smile fell. "He likes keeping his things in order particularly because he doesn't like finding things. It frustrates him when things are unorganized."

Rafa bit down on her tongue, stopping herself from saying anything. She offered a tight smile instead. Her mother-in-law either didn't remember correctly, or she wasn't aware of the changes in her son. Their room was nearly always unorganized, and he didn't even peep a disapproval.

"Have some more," Rafa said instead, sliding the cookies to her mother in law. "Abdur Rehman, come here, please?"

While she waited for her husband to appear, she boxed sweets for her brother. Tayyaba waited patiently on the side, eating the cookies.

"I'd text him before you drive out," Rafa recommended. "He's out and about on the weekends."

"Will do." He took the bags and flashed her a smile. "Alright ladies, I will be right back, hope you bond in my absence," he said it brazenly and with a smug look, not knowing how his absence would bring about the opposite.

Wiping the back of his heel, Abdur Rehman pulled back his foot and rested it on the marble slab. As the sins rolled off, the automatic tap stopped and filled the men's wudu area with silence once again. Like the deserted restroom, the main prayer hall was also silent. It seemed that others, too, preferred praying at home on the weekends. A couple of men sat reciting the Quran, one prayed salat-ul-masjid, and another sat performing dhikr on his fingers. Abdur Rehman made his way to the one reciting Quran under the hanging bookshelf.

"Assalamu'allykum," he greeted in a low voice, settling down next to his wife's brother. When he had called earlier, Yahya had confessed to be heading to the masjid. They had agreed on praying asr and then driving back together.

Yahya waited to finish the verse he was reciting before replying back. "How are you? How's Rafa?"

"She was well enough to enter the kitchen today, spent all morning baking." Abdur Rehman grinned. "You can finish your ruku, I insist."

"Just a moment then."

While Yahya read through the next couple of pages, Abdur Rehman made dhikr and smiled fondly at the way he had left Rafa. She was sprawled over the bed, curtains tightly drawn shut, taking an afternoon nap. He would have to wake her when he got back, he told himself, or else she would be scrolling on her phone into the wee hours of the night.

"Now, what were you saying?" Yahya asked, after closing the mush'f and making du'a. "Rafa in the kitchen?"

"Abdur Rehman laughed at his reaction. "She made cookies and cupcakes. I brought both for you. They're in the car, safe and sound."

Instead of mirroring Abdur Rehman's teasing tone, Yahya grinned softly. "She's a different person with you then. You get to see the Rafa we never did." His words made Abdur Rehman blush. "When we were growing up, in fact even now, she loves baking and helping me in the kitchen, but she only does it when she's in a good mood. Her baking right now, when she's so sensitive to scents and smells, and tires out easily, tells me she loves you a lot."

I know she does. Abdur Rehman glowed.

"Take care of her, will you?"

"I will," he promised sincerely.

"Especially through this stage of her life," Yahya insisted. "She's going through a lot emotionally right now because of the heightened hormones." He let out a sigh. "The day she went with Anjum to the wedding planner's, she held me and asked me who am I to you? It puzzled me so much because she looked so broken. And then she told me she's pregnant and then I understood where all those unshed tears were coming from."

Abdur Rehman stared at his brother in law in concern. Had his wife really been so broken and he hadn't noticed? Guilt riddled him for not taking note and being considerate of her needs. He knew he was oblivious to countless things, but he felt ashamed for not being extra understanding when she really was not stable.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You shouldn't have had to deal with that, it's my responsibility to care for her."

"I know you're her husband, but don't forget she's my sister. I am also there for her," Yahya reminded goodnaturedly, "I will care for her and her baby with all my heart. All of us will."

The adhan started on the speaker, sweetening their brotherly moment. As they got up to stand side by side, Abdur Rehman thought back to Rafa. When had he missed noticing that sad state of hers? You're blind and deaf sometimes, Rafa had said to him a couple of days ago, and she was completely right. He was blind to her needs sometimes. Annoyance pumped into him as he lifted his hands for the takbir. He would have hated for Manahil to rely on him because her husband was oblivious, he couldn't make the same mistake for his own wife.

"The day she went with Anjum to the wedding planner's."

"I have to accompany Anjum to a wedding planner," Rafa had said months ago when he had asked her to attend dinner at Badr's.

A frown rested on his lips as he bent for ruku. Something wasn't calculating correctly. He pushed down the nagging feeling in his gut and tried to focus on the rest of his salah. But the feeling stayed even when he dismissed any active thoughts.

As soon as they finished salah and sped through dhikr, Abdur Rehman asked Yahya, "When did Rafa tell you about the pregnancy?"

"I don't know the date for sure, but it was in her third month, I think. She had just found out, from what I understood."

All color drained from Abdur Rehman's face. "Only you?"

"Of course not." Yahya gave him a quizzical look. "Me, our parents, and friends. Did she not consult you about it?" He let out a low chuckle. "We said our Allahumma bariks and read our surahs against evil eye, don't worry, your wife and child are safe from us."

Abdur Rehman blinked at him. Everyone had known about the baby for months, and he had only known for the last month and a half. Only for the last month and a half. Blood pounded in his ears, blocking out all and any sounds. He stared at Yahya but heard no voice coming out of his moving lips.

"I have to go," Abdur Rehman announced abruptly.

"Wait, what's wrong?"

"I have to go," Abdur Rehman repeated.

"What about my cookies?" Yahya asked behind him, but Abdur Rehman had stopped listening.

His thoughts were in overdrive. Everyone knew. Everyone of her family and friends. Hurt and betrayal plagued him. Did I not deserve to know about my child? His hands ached with how tightly he held the steering wheel as he sped home. He was so desperately trying to create a family with her, become a family with her, and she hadn't even considered including him with the people she shared her happiness with.

She had known about the baby before he had left for the work trip. She had known about it before she left to go live at her parents'. She had known, and she hadn't bothered to utter a single word? How long did it take to confess that she was pregnant? How many words did it take?

His eyes burned with anger. She had purposely kept his child away from him. She had promised to go for a week, but had stayed nearly six weeks instead, all while knowing that he was waiting for her. One word, Rafa, it could have been one word. One text.

She didn't have any trouble calling him deaf, or blind. She didn't have trouble telling him that he was like his mother. I wish you were honest with me, she had said, but she herself, hadn't been honest with him.

His body buzzed with frustration, too much for him to even step out of the car after arriving home. Like him, the sky had taken on a gloomy color, promising showers and maybe thunder. He didn't even know what he was going to do about the entire thing. He felt deceived and angry and hurt, but none of those emotions aligned with how he had felt that morning, how he had left the house.

He didn't want to storm in and ruin Rafa's mood, and neither did he want to reveal a whisper to his mother. She was already critical of Rafa, this could destroy whatever progress she had made so far.

Taking deep breaths, he tried to regulate his feelings the same way he did at work, when all the team members had opposing suggestions and views about a situation, and he had to diplomatically satisfy everyone while keeping order. He would try to talk to Rafa, he decided. He would start with mentioning Yahya, then he would ask her to honestly tell him when she found out about the baby, and why she didn't think it was right to tell him until he himself didn't beg her to come back.

He recited his plan to himself each step towards his room. When he knocked on the door and walked in, his plans scattered like pearls in a broken string. Rafa sat across Gabi's fish tank, sobbing hysterically.

Dread filled him. "What-what's wrong?" He whispered, his voice uncertain. He had had Gabi for years. She was friend, his companion. "Rafa?" His lips uttered, placing a hand on her shoulder while simultaneously looking at the tank. "Is Gabriella okay?"

"Abdur Rehman!" Rafa exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. Her face was stained with tears, her cheeks flushed. He held her, his eyes cautiously leaving hers to look towards the fish tank. Gabi swam in circles, perfectly healthy. His worry increased.

"Rafa?" He asked, a little firmer this time. "What is it? Why are you crying?" He pulled her back, trying to catch her eye.

"I-I," she choked out. "I miss Meenu."

"Is he dead?"

"God forbid!"

"Then what is it?"

"I miss him." She wiped a stray tear.

Abdur Rehman's face fell. "You're crying because you miss your cat?"

"Don't say it like that!" She protested. "How would you like it if I called Gabi just a fish?"

"Point noted," he sighed, surrendering and backing away. There was no point in reasoning with her when she was being so sensitive.

"I miss his cuddles and his following me around, and the way he sat on my belly and played with the baby."

Wait, even the cat knew about the pregnancy before me?

Abdur Rehman watched Rafa wordlessly. His beautiful, brilliant, and responsible wife was so sentimental about those she loved, and even then, she had thought it was a good idea to not tell him? He couldn't wrap his head around her reasons for keeping him in the dark. He sighed, deciding right then to back off for the moment. He felt exhausted by all the feelings that he had been through in the past half an hour alone, he didn't want to confuse himself even more.

"Why don't you FaceTime the cat, I mean, Meenu?"

Rafa stared at him before her face brightened. "You're right." She searched for her phone, and then immediately started to ring up Yahya, oblivious to everything around her.

"I'm...I'm going for a run," he said, stopping at the door. He needed some fresh air, some time to sort his thoughts. 

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