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New cover

I just keep finding the perfect aesthetics for Rehan and Anabia. 

Anabia

I stood at the threshold of my twin brother's place, taking a deep breath. I had come here to talk to him after giving him the time and space to calm down. He felt that Mama was pushing him away because of the fact that he reminded her of Papa; because of his strong resemblance to him. I also looked like Papa, but Saim might as well have been a younger version of him. I also knew that Mama did her best to make sure that her kids didn't go through the same pain she had gone through. Frankly, Mama was being more emotional than practical, but Saim and I needed to talk to her carefully, rather than losing our temper and patience with her.

I rang the doorbell, waiting for him to answer. I knew that he was home right now, as he had a night shift. Laila was at the bakery, busy with baking for the end-of-summer-holidays picnics and parties.

My twin brother opened the door, rubbing sleep out of his eye. "Oh. It's you."

"Assalam Alaikum, Grumpy." I lightly shoved him aside and walked inside.

"Walaikum Assalam. I don't need lectures, Ana."

"I'm just here to check up on you."

"I'm your twin. I know you. You are here to gently explain to me that I should be kinder to Mama." He spoke drily, closing the front door.

"I know she can be a little emotional..."

"A little emotional?" He laughed sarcastically. "She almost broke up your marriage because of her emotional nature!" 

"Look, I don't hold a grudge against her for it, nor do I resent her. I know that, in her mind, she was doing what she considered the best thing for me." 

"You may not resent her, but I am not happy." He said, following me into his living room. "I know what my responsibilities are towards her and Laila, and I am doing my best to fulfil them all, but she thinks I'm an immature child-that we both," He gestured towards himself and me, "...are immature children. She needs to trust us to do the right thing in our marriages."

"Saim..."

"Ana, don't worry. I will talk to Mama today. I will try to make her understand, but there's only so much I can keep doing and saying. She just doesn't want to understand us." 

I knew his irritation because I had felt it myself multiple times. But I still couldn't stand the thought of my mother and brother being at odds with each other, but I needed to trust Saim to sort things out. He couldn't stay angry at her for too long anyway. "Anyway, how are things with you anyway? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in ages."

He smirked. "Aww, someone misses me."

I scoffed. "Keep dreaming."

"Remember in Secondary School when you stopped talking to me for two whole hours?" He laughed. "Best two hours of my life."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I shouldn't have resumed conversation with you. The betrayal was strong." He hadn't told me about how he felt about Laila, and I was furious at him. It was only when Shahzaib had made a teasing remark about them that I had found out the truth. I was so angry that I refused to even look at Saim, but he had bribed me with a large bag of Max Paprika crisps and a tube of Smarties, and I had no choice but to forgive. "You never kept anything from me, so I was annoyed." And yet, here I am being a hypocrite. This was the biggest secret that I'd ever hidden from my twin: the fact that he was going to be a Mamu, In Sha Allah.

"Am I forgiven for that now?" He joked.

I grinned. "I suppose." 

*

I met up with Hareem after she was finished with work. It was obvious that she was not her usual self. She was quieter, lost in her own thoughts. "What's going on?" 

We were having halal grilled chicken wraps from a café close to her work. Usually we spent our time giggling and gossiping, but today she wasn't in the mood.

"An acquaintance of Bhai's brought a rishta for me." She admitted.

"What about...?"

"Don't say his name." She interrupted me. 

"But..."

"I don't want to hear it, Ana. It's over." 

"Okay. I won't say his name. But I will say that agreeing to marry someone when your heart is elsewhere is not a good idea. Trust me, I know." 

"What can I do, Ana?" She looked exasperated. "He refused because he claims that he knows what's best for me better than I do. I am not going to go after him, begging him to accept me. Where does that leave my self-respect?" 

"So, it's gonna be as if it never happened?" 

"Look, the concept of arranged marriage has been predominant in our culture for a long time. And marriages have worked out on that concept, so I suppose that if I have to get married, it will be an arranged marriage." She shrugged. "If not, I will start completing my travel bucket list."

"Which we were going to do together..." I pouted slightly.

"Yeah, well, you betrayed me. And now, you'll have to take along my bhanjay and bhanjiyan." She grinned.

*Bhanjay: sister's sons.
Bhanjiyan: sister's daughters.

"How many kids do you think I'll have?" I made a face.

"I think at least three, or you won't even mind four." 

I didn't deny it. I had no problems, at this point of my life, in thinking about three or four kids. Of course, this opinion could change after I'd full experienced pregnancy, labour and raising a newborn. But I wanted my own family to love and cherish...and to spread the love of reading to. 

And as I looked at Hareem, I wanted her to be as happy as I was in my life right now. Alhumdulillah. I want her to have everything that would be good for her, but would also make her genuinely happy, whether it was marriage or not, whether it was Emaad or someone else. Ameen. I knew her. Despite her often tough exterior, she had a soft heart of gold. She was a loving, caring person, who was fiercely protective of those that she loved. She was a good human, compassionate towards the others. As Yasin would say, she deserved all the sunshine in her life.

*

I finally got some time to sit in my book corner at home and read. With the sofa reclined, and my legs stretched out, I was reading a good romantic-comedy novel, while eating a sliced apple. Nina Aunty had told me to eat plenty of food, and that both she and Mama would regularly question me about my diet throughout the pregnancy.

And let me tell you, my mother and mother-in-law were like excited schoolgirls now that they knew about the baby. Even today both of them had added me onto a video conference call, and were giving me tips and advice.

"Men are so clueless..." I muttered as the male protagonist of the book failed to understand the hints dropped by the female. 

I heard the front door opened and my heart automatically skipped a beat, but I continued staring at my book, repeatedly reading the same paragraph over and over again, a ghost of a smile appearing on my face. 

Rehan passed by the living room door, walking quickly, but then he returned, raising both eyebrows. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Assalam Alaikum." I bit into another slice of apple.

"Walaikum Assalam. I thought you were going to stay over at your mother's, since you were in that part of the city." 

"Why, did you have plans?" I teased.

"Maybe." He walked over to me. "A romance again? What happened to your love for dark thrillers?" 

"The author of such dark thrillers made me want to read more romance." I looked at him. "So, technically, it's your fault that I am enjoying more romance novels these days."

"Always finding a way to blame the husband." He leaned down to kiss my forehead.

"How are things with the demon?" I asked, placing a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him closer to peck his lips.

"Anya..."

"What? Only the minions of the devil, a.k.a. demons, go after married men." I shrugged. "And those married men who fall weak to such demons, are no less demonic themselves. Good thing you're on the good side."

He straightened up. "She had a meeting with Christina Donovan today, the lady from HR. I think they are going to terminate Miraal's contract based on gross misconduct."

"Good." I muttered.

"I hate to feel happy about someone losing their job, but she caused this herself." He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. "Anyway, I'm going to Birmingham tonight. I have a meeting there early tomorrow. Will you be okay? Or shall I drop you off at my parents'?" 

"Excuse me." I stood up. "You didn't even take me for a drive in your new car after that date at the restaurant." 

"Well, I am offering to drive you to my parents' house."

"That's not what I meant." I had loved the car. The new car smell, the ambient lights, it was so perfect. "I want to ride inside it, with the ambient lights turned to purple." 

He chuckled. "When I'm back, In Sha Allah. I promise." He turned to head out of the room.

"I made daal chawal." I said, timidly.

*Daal chawal: boiled rice with lentil curry.

He turned to look at me, surprised. "You what?" 

"Try it before you go." 

"Definitely." He smiled at me, before walking out.

****

I knew how to boil rice. But the daal, I had made from a recipe I found on a YouTube video. Mama sometimes used that channel to attempt new recipes, so I knew it was tried and tested.

I watched worriedly as Rehan had the first spoonful of rice and daal. "Last time I made daal, Mama was there so..."

"It's delicious, Anya. And I promise you, I'm not just saying it for your sake." 

I bit my lip to hide my pleased smile, feeling a little proud of myself. I had a tendency to underestimate myself sometimes. 

"Aren't you going to eat?" He asked.

"I already had some a while ago, before the apple. I was hungry." 

"Are you late tomorrow?" He glanced up at me as he ate his dinner.

"Mid. For now, I have been given mid shifts until the planning department completely changes my roster during pregnancy. I'll be working five hours now, twelve to five. Good hours for me."

After he had finished, he got up and washed his dishes. "Thank you for the meal, Anya. It was perfect." 

I also stood up. "I tried." As he dried his hands on the kitchen towel, he looked at me, and the expression on his face made my cheeks warm. "What?" I grabbed my left wrist in my right hand, my gaze lowering to the ground.

"Nobody will ever be a competition for you, Anabia Rehan." He said so quietly that I almost didn't hear him properly.

"Yeah, I'll make sure of that, as will my baby." I told him, grinning.

"So will I." He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer. "In Sha Allah."

"So, you're promising to protect me from your own disloyalty?" I teased.

"You writers and your way with words." He rested his forehead against mine. "And yes, Mrs Rehan. That's exactly what I am promising."

*

I decided to go to my parents-in-laws' house for the night. 

Rehan dropped me off, leaving the ambient lights in the car to purple, for my sake.

"We are happier to have Anabia here than we ever were to have you here." Nina Aunty teased him as he bade them farewell from in the foyer.

Rehan glanced at me and I gave him an innocent shrug.

My parents-in-law headed inside, and I remained behind to say goodbye. "Listen." I grabbed the lapels of his shirt. "I want Saim to know. Our mothers know, Hareem knows, and I feel that the rest of our immediate family to know as well. Saim, Uncle and Yasin. The truth is, I feel guilty keeping this from Saim."

He looked thoughtful and glanced down at me. "I'm sure you must have thought this through, so go ahead, if this is what you want." 

"This is." I placed my fingertips on his jaw. "I am only willing to tell people that I know, without doubt, will only wish well for us and will pray for us and our baby." 

He nodded lightly, kissing my palm. 

"Drive safely, okay?" I whispered. "And call me or message me when you reach, In Sha Allah."

"In Sha Allah." With a long, deep kiss, he said goodbye to me and headed out.

*

We all sat around the living room a while later. Tariq Uncle was watching Pakistani news, Nina Aunty was doing a crossword puzzle, occasionally asking her husband to help, and Yasin was absent-mindedly sketching something.

"How is your Freshers' Orientation going, Yasin?" I asked.

Yasin looked up at me, surprised, as if he had forgotten that there were other people in the room. "It's good. Yes. I like it." 

"Yasin made a friend." Nina Aunty told me, smiling. "Farhan? Farhad? What was his name?" 

"Fardeen." Yasin replied.

"That's great. How do you like the university campus?" I asked. 

"It's lovely. I like the art department so much! It's perfect!" Yasin's excitement was contagious, and I remembered the feeling of being a new university student. It gave me a real sense of adulthood, like I was finally growing up.

"I am so happy for you." I told him, genuinely, before turning to Uncle. "And how is your work going, Uncle? I wanted to tell you actually, that when I was in Sixth Form, my best friend Hareem and I volunteered to write in the monthly newsletter published by the school, for everyone from year seven to Sixth Formers. I remember the editor use to rush around stressed out in the days before it was published, and that was only just a newsletter for a school! I'm sure your job must be super stressful."

Uncle muted the volume of the TV before turning to me. "Yes, my dear. The work itself is stressful, no doubt, but it doesn't really help that the news seems to be getting worse and worse each day." 

"Indeed." Nina Aunty nodded, frowning down at the crossword, before looking at me with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Yet, he still says he's less stressed at work." She smiled at her husband.

Uncle laughed. 

"Did you guys have a love marriage?" I blurted out, before feeling mortified. Who asks their in-laws this question?!

"Tariq, is this what's it like to have daughters? Offspring who actual care about their parents' former lives?" Aunty smiled fondly. "How did you guess, Anabia?" 

"It felt like it." I shrugged.

"I met her on a beach in Karachi. It was early to mid-eighties." Tariq Uncle began nostalgically. "Both our families were on holidays there during the summer. I was in a foul mood, as I did not wish to be there. It was hot, and I just wanted to return to my air-conditioned room. And then I saw her, in an equally foul mood." He laughed again. "Her sister was getting on the camel, but Nina, here was just annoyed."

" I was angry for a very petty reason, I'm sure." Aunty admitted. "I can't even remember." 

"She was speaking in English, in a British accent, so as we got closer to each other, I just casually asked, 'Londoner?'," Uncle reached out to take Aunty's hand and she slid it into his before he squeezed her slim, elegant fingers. "The surprised look on her face made me smile." 

"I asked him, in annoyance, 'what's it to you where I'm from?'." Aunty stared off into distance, as if remembering those moments. 

"So, how did you come from a chance meeting on a beach in Karachi to, this?" I gestured around with my hand. I saw even Yasin was listening with interest.

"Funnily, our fathers hit it off before us." Uncle replied. "Because I asked Nina one small question, our families realised that we were all Londoners, and that our fathers basically migrated to the UK in the same year. Our families grew closer, and Nina and I fell in love, and the rest is history." 

"Did you guys have any trouble in convincing your parents?" I asked.

"None at all. Our families had become good friends, gotten to know each other, so the marriage alliance was almost natural." Aunty said. "When you are meant to be, Anabia, it sometimes happens in the most unexpected of ways. We were both Londoners, but we ended up meeting at a beach in Karachi. And look at yourself and Rehan." 

I thought about Hareem and Emaad. He had moved here all the way from the US. We used to know his half-brother, Shahzaib, in school. None of us ever expected that Hareem would meet Emaad. I am still convinced that they are meant to be. I just pray to Allah that he is what's best for her, and that he would make her genuinely happy. Ameen.

"Ma Sha Allah, you guys have a beautiful story. May Allah give you both many, many blissful years together, filled with good health and love. Ameen." I genuinely wished for the best for my parents-in-law. They were amazing people, Ma Sha Allah.

"Ameen. And I wish the same for you and Rehan." Nina Aunty looked emotional. "You two are perfect for each other, Ma Sha Allah." 

*

Rehan

I arrived in Birmingham late, and was too tired to do anything but go straight to bed in my hotel room. I barely remember waking up to pray Fajr, but I know I did. The next time I woke up, sunlight was attempting to sneak its way through from the cracks in the thick curtains. 

"Finally you're up." 

I turned over onto my back and saw Anabia standing by the wardrobe, wearing nothing but my white button-down shirt, her hair spread loose over her shoulders.

"What are you doing here...?" I asked, my voice low and raspy with sleep.

"You tell me. Your mind is the one conjuring me up." She grinned, slowly unbuttoning the shirt...

And I sat up in bed, breathing rapidly. "F**k." I ran a hand through my hair, glancing towards the wardrobe, but of course she wasn't there. She was in London, at my parents' house.

I grabbed my phone, and as I scrolled on the application page, I saw the ImagineFans app, something I didn't even know existed until Josie told me about Anya's fanfiction. I clicked on it, and went into the DMs. 

09:03

**Ray_1234: Looks like you're so busy in real life that you don't remember your loyal fans?**

I set my phone aside and sat up, yawning. I was trudging my way to the bathroom when I heard the notification of the app. Immediately returning back, I picked my phone up and saw her reply.

09:05

**Ana_B: Aapko kahan se meri yaad aagayi aaj?**

*How did you remember me today?

09:05

**Ray_1234: Main bhoola hi kahan tha?**

*When did I even forget?

I knew that I had to get ready now. It was so tempting to get into conversation with her, but I was here for work, and that had to be done.

09:06

**Ana_B: I am busy with my in-laws actually. In fact, my mother-in-law is driving me to work. We are going to pick up some (decaf) coffee and she will take me straight to work.**

I loved how well my mother and wife got along. Alhumdulillah. 

09:06

**Ana_B: What are you up to these days, Mr Ray? Missing my fanfiction?**

09:07

**Ray_1234: Always.**

09:07

**Ray_1234: Keep writing. 😊>

My phone rang in the middle of my conversation with my wife, and Faisal's name popped up on my screen. "Assalam Alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam, Boss. Tell me what the update is on Turquoise?" He asked, cheerfully.

"There is no update."

"Ray, you are slacking, bro. I know you're busy with your job, but people have expectations from you." He said in a disapproving tone.

"I know." I ran a hand over my face. "I'll try." 

"Not try. Do it." He said. "You have the end of the week to write another chapter at least, or else I'll be force to take strict action."

I chuckled. "What the heck will you do?" 

"I'll tell your biggest fan, and then I won't need to do anything else." He replied. "I mean it, Rehan. Get on with it ASAP."

I knew he was write. I had been neglecting my writing lately, with everything going on. I had to focus. Writing was a part of who I was and I couldn't slack in it.

****

Yasin

"Yasin?" 

I jumped, startled and whirled around. "M-Mum?" 

Having just returned from dropping Bhabi off at work, Mum stood in the doorway, a puzzled frown on her face. "What are you doing in Rehan's room? And why are you wearing his shirt?" 

I felt my cheeks warm up. With jeans, I was wearing a light blue button-down shirt of my brother's. "I...I couldn't decide what to wear, so I thought I would borrow a shirt of Bhai's. He hardly wears this anyway, since he's hardly here." 

"You have plenty of shirts, darling. Why couldn't you wear one of your own?" A knowing smile appeared on Mum's face. "And you have brushed your hair very neatly today." 

Bhai had muscles, and I was skinny, with equally skinny arms, so the shirt hung loose on me. But it was still a mature shirt and it gave me a grown-up-look. 

"Nothing. I just want to feel grown-up, Mum." I muttered, shyly. "I am in university now, so I should dress up maturely too."

"You do look grown up, my sweet little guy." She pinched my cheeks. 

"Mum, grown-up guys don't get called 'sweet little guys'." I moved away.

"Mothers don't care how grown up their kids are. They're always babies to them." Mum said. "Especially their youngest children." 

"I have to go. I am getting late for uni." 

She gave me a smile, before leaning up to kiss my cheek. "Take care, my sweet little Yasin. May Allah keep you under His Protection. Ameen." She left the room.

I quickly went to the dressing table, and picked up an almost-empty bottle of Bhai's cologne and sprayed it on. "All grown up." I grinned at myself in the mirror, adjusting my glasses.

*

Third Person POV

Yasin lay on his back on Rehan's bed, his head hanging on the side of the bed as he watched his elder brother standing in front of the mirror, spraying on his cologne. Rehan was nineteen and Yasin was four. The elder Tariq brother was in his first year of university, while the younger brother still drank from Sippy Cups.

"Can I come too?" Yasin asked.

"Sit up straight, Yas. You'll get dizzy." Rehan told him. "And no, you're too young."

Yasin got off the bed, and stumbled a little as all the blood had rushed into his head from hanging his head over the side of the bed. "I'm grown up. Look. I have a watch." He held up his wrist and showed Rehan his SpongeBob watch.

Rehan chuckled. "Fair enough, but right now you need to go to school. University comes later."

"I want to be a grown-up! I want to drive! I want to be like you." Yasin tilted his head to look up at his brother.

Rehan crouched down on the floor in front of him. "Being a grown-up is overrated, Yas. Be a kid for now and have fun, play, study and learn new things."

"I want to learn to drive."

"You will, when the time comes In Sha Allah." Rehan ruffled his hair. "I'll teach you myself, In Sha Allah." 

Yasin wrapped his arms around his brother. "I wish I will be like you, Bhai. You are my favourite!"

"You are my favourite too, Yas." Rehan kissed the top of his kid brother's head. "Just be a good person. That's all that matters."

Yasin watched his big brother in awe, holding his hand all the way downstairs. He looked up to his big brother so much!  

And this was something that was going to become a permanent part of Yasin.

*

Yasin

With a big smile on my face, I arrived on the university campus. I headed straight to the art building, where we were being placed in groups that we were going to be remain for the rest of the year with for our seminars. Fortunately for me, Fardeen was in that group.

"Assalam Alaikum, brother." I took a seat beside him in the classroom.

"Walaikum Assalam." He looked at me with a smile. "How are you, Yasin?" 

"Alhumdulillah, I am well. How are you?" 

"Alhumdulillah, very well." Fardeen nodded. 

I had no idea how to continue a conversation. I was very bad at it. I wished that he would continue, but he was focused on his phone. I could hear constantly the sound of sending and receiving messages on WhatsApp.

"My family back home is constantly worried because I am here on my own." He explained, putting his phone away. "I keep telling them I'm fine, but you know how parents are."

"Yeah, trust me. I know it very well." I smiled. 

"You know, I like calligraphy in particular. I wish to be able to learn it properly. It's beautiful." He spoke, staring at the white board at the front of the room. 

"True. It is beautiful." I nodded. "I wish to visit the natural beauty spots of countries all over the world, and I wish to draw it out and paint it."

"Have you travelled a lot?" He asked.

"I have. My parents and brother have taken me to a lot of place." I said. "And I have drawn and painted so much, but it's been mostly cities. I want to see mountains, oceans, waterfalls, forests. The parts of the world untouched by human destruction." 

"That's a very deep thing to say."

"I often hear people say that the world is beautiful and valuable, and the humans just don't know how to look after it."

"True." Fardeen nodded, but as his phone buzzed again, he took it out of his pocket once again and continued messaging.

Meanwhile, the door had opened and my mouth opened slightly as Saba stepped into the room. Today she wore a long light pink maxi dress and a grey light cardigan that was tied at her midriff. She matched the outfit with a grey hijab and flat pink pumps, and around her neck was a long silver chain with a heavy heart-shaped locket that had tiny rainbow coloured stones sparkling from it. Shyly, she moved past the groups of people still loitering around, and headed to sit on a table on her own.

My heart was speeding in my chest and I felt nervous. Why am I feeling this way? She's just a girl in my class.

She's pretty. An internal voice seemed to argue with the logic of my mind. Or maybe, it was just my confused mind having a debate with itself. 

She had taken a notebook and a pen out, and her gaze remained on those two objects, not looking up at anyone around her. In fact, she leaned forward and seemed to start doodling in the notebook, in a world of her own.

While Fardeen remained focused on his phone, I opened up my small sketchbook, and began drawing. I drew a pair of beautiful female eyes, with a large maang tikka.

*Maang tikka: forehead adornment.

It wasn't even Saba's eyes. It was just something that came into my mind as I thought of her.

"Who's that?" Fardeen asked, curiously.

"Imagination." I replied, simply.

"Ma Sha Allah, you are very talented, man." 

"Thank you." I closed my sketchbook and put it back inside my bag as the seminar tutor finally arrived.

An excited feeling was developing inside me every time I looked in Saba's direction, but I couldn't understand what it was.

*

Anabia

My mother-in-law had packed a healthy lunch for me, even though I was only working for five hours, meaning that legally there was no requirement for a break. I ate it just an hour after my work started because I was feeling hungry.

As I observed check-in halfway into my shift, my phone's message notification made me pull it out of my pocket.

<Rehan: I am picking you up from work, In Sha Allah. Five, right?>

My heart fluttered and I pursed my lips to hide a smile, even as my cheeks warmed up.

<Anabia: Yes. To what do I owe this honour?>

<Rehan: Well, I'll be arriving back in the city around four-thirty, In Sha Allah, so I figured I might as well pick you up. Real VIP protocol today, huh? Saas dropped you off, Shohar picking you up?>

"Anabia?" 

I looked up, startled. "Hmm?" 

"Can you help me with something?" One of the newer check-in agents asked me.

"S-Sure." I pocketed my phone again, feeling flushed, before following her to help her out.

****

I let my hair loose, running a small foldable brush through it, and applied lip gloss over my lips. I always kept perfume in my locker, so I lightly sprayed some on, before heading out of the restroom towards the exit.

When I reached the car parking, I looked around, but couldn't see him. That's weird. He said he's here, on this level.

I took my phone out to check his message again, but it clearly stated that he was on this level already, waiting for me.

Suddenly, something appeared in my vision, and I glanced down. It was a book, a long slim book. The cover was black and in white cursive letters were the words: The Fanfictions of Anabia Rehan written on the front. My name was written at the bottom in the same letters: Anabia Rehan. My gaze lifted up to see the warm and adoring smile on Rehan's face. In his other hand was a bouquet of red roses which made me want to squeal.

"What...?" I whispered.

"It's just one copy, but I pulled some strings and figured that these beautiful fanfictions deserve their own book." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

"You did not just do that." I took the book and flipped through it. Every fanfiction that I'd ever published on ImagineFans was in that book. My own book...even if it was just one copy.

"And I figured, a little cliché greeting at the airport with red roses?" He held out the bouquet towards me.

"I'm not coming from abroad, you know." I was too stunned to really know what to say or how to behave, but I accepted the beautiful roses. "Thank you." I wrapped my arms around him, which was a hard task considering that I was holding a book and a large bouquet. I had tears in my eyes; I was beyond overwhelmed by his gestures. "I can't believe you did this." I pulled away, glancing at the book in wonder. "When did you even do this...? How...?" 

"Can I tell you something?" He asked in a low voice, placing a hand on my hip.

I nodded.

"This copy is actually for me. I just need an autograph from you." 

"Okay, now you are just kidding..." 

"This is what I went to Birmingham from. The strings that I pulled were based there." He explained. "I went all the way to Birmingham to obtain a copy of your book, so the least you can do is sign it." Placing a hand on the small of my back, he guided me across the car parking towards where his car was parked. Taking the bouquet from my hands, he put it into the backseat of the car, before taking a pen out of his pocket. "Autograph, please."

My hand shook as I opened the book to the title page and took the pen from it. I couldn't even see through the tears in my eyes as I placed the tip of the pen against the page.

To Rehan,

Love, Your Anya ♡

I threw my arms around him again and started crying, burying my face against his chest and soaking his shirt. I clutched onto the book with one hand behind his back. 

"Anya, please stop crying, sweetheart." 

"I can't. Blame your baby." I muttered from between sobs before looking up at him. "But, seriously, this is such a beautiful gesture from your part, Rehan. I can't believe you went through all this trouble." 

He grabbed me lightly by the lapels of my blazer, making me stand on my tiptoes, and surprising me slightly. The passion in his eyes made me breathless. He leaned down until our lips were just inches apart. "You and your fanfictions completely changed my life for the better, Anya. This is the least that I could do." And then he closed the intolerable distance between us, pressing his lips against mine in a kiss that sent my entire body trembling.

To the world, we were just a couple reuniting at the airport-albeit in different circumstances. But only the two of us knew and felt the amount of love between us. 

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against mine. "I'll be right back. I need to pay for the car parking." 

"I'll pay. You came here for me." I said, breathlessly.

He chuckled. "Not gonna happen." He gave me a light peck on the lips again. 

"I'm serious, Rehan." 

"I offered to come here. It's voluntary." He took his wallet out. "I'll be right back, okay? Don't run." 

I giggled, surprised. "Where would I go?"

He walked away, smiling, and I quickly opened the book again to add a further note:

My husband, my best friend, my lover, my partner, my favourite author. No words in any language of any country can ever be enough to describe how much I love you. So, I'll convey it simply: I love you eternally. 

♡ Anya

*

It was a beautifully casual evening at the Tariq family home. Beautiful because of how everyone was so comfortable and at ease as they sat together, yet doing their own thing. It was such a warm, family atmosphere that I almost forgot that they were my in-laws.

Rehan and Yasin were sitting on the floor, with the latter finally convincing his brother to play video games with him. Tariq Uncle was reading a biography of a politician, even amidst all the noise that the brothers were making, and Nina Aunty was working on her laptop. I was just sitting there, doing a crossword from the book that Aunty had been doing the night before.

"You want to play?" Yasin looked up at me.

"I don't know this game." I admitted.

"Bhai can teach you." Yasin shrugged.

My cheeks burned as I glanced at Rehan.

"Come on." He nodded to the space beside him. "Let me show you."

I got down on the ground. Casually wrapping his arm around me, he handed me the control, placing his hands over mine. It seemed to be a car racing game of some sorts, and he explained to me how to play, as the game continued. Nobody overreacted at our closeness. Nina Aunty just looked up briefly and smiled, while Uncle simply turned the page of his book. Yasin was too involved in the game to notice.

As I learned the basis of it, Rehan let go of my hands and leaned back against the sofa, letting me play. I was giggling endlessly as I kept crashing the car into something as I tried to get used to the game. Yasin was probably regretting offering me.

I was not unfamiliar to video games, growing up with a twin brother. But it was a weird, unexpected experience to sit here so casually amongst my in-laws and playing a car racing game, without anyone batting an eyelid. 

"You watch. I'm going to make you an expert on all the video games that we play." Yasin told me once the game was over. "The newest member of Team Tariq."

I smiled sadly. 

"Team Terror Twins!" Saim used to shout whenever he and I triumphed another level in one of our zombie games. 

Yasin was a wonderful brotherly figure for me, but he was making me miss my twin brother. It really did feel like it had been ages since Saim and I had hung out together, just creating chaos like we always used to, driving Mama crazy.

"You okay?" Rehan placed a hand on the small of my back.

"I think Saim and Yasin will get along very well." I said, softly. "They'd play football or video games together all day if they ever got a chance to hang out." 

"Why don't we give them the chance to hang out? Why don't you invite Saim and Laila over here one of the weekends when we're all free?" Rehan suggested. 

Knowing Saim, he would probably not be carefree and cheerful like before until he sorted things out with Mama. Until he did so, he won't be able to enjoy himself anywhere.

"I'll speak to him about it." I nodded, looking up at my husband. 

He glanced at me pointedly, before glancing briefly towards my stomach, and I understood what he was trying to say. We could use an opportunity like that to let the rest of our immediate family know about our baby. I nodded again, discreetly.

"How old is Saim?" Yasin asked, innocently.

"He's my twin, Yas. He is the same age as me. Twenty-five." I replied, almost unintentionally calling him by the nickname that Rehan used for him.

"Not too far from twenty-six, if I'm not wrong. In Sha Allah." Rehan reminded me, not-so-discreetly.

"Your birthday is coming up?" Yasin sounded excited.

"When is it?" Even Nina Aunty paid attention.

"Seventh of October." Rehan replied for me. "Just over a month from now, In Sha Allah."

I could practically read her mind as she started to make plans, a small smile on her face, making me groan internally.

"Are we going to have a party?" Yasin asked his brother.

"We'll see." Rehan had a similar smile on his face, one matching his mother's. 

For me, nothing mattered to me as much as the presence of Saim on our birthday. I didn't care for extravagant, materialistic things. I didn't care for attention or presents. All I wanted was that no matter where I was, Saim should be there with me on our birthday. I'd never celebrate a birthday without him. Without him, my birthday was meaningless.

"Whatever we plan, Saim will be involved." Rehan whispered, leaning closer.

I glanced at him, surprised. Did he read my mind? "How did you...?" 

"It was just an instinct. He's your twin. I guessed that you'd feel that way." 

I stared silently at the TV as Yasin challenged his brother to another game. Ya Allah, please resolve the issues between Saim and Mama. I cannot bear to see them mad at each other. I cannot bear this coldness I am feeling from my side of the family. I miss our warm, happy moments. Allah, please help things get back to normal. Ameen.

*

Saim

"Go talk to her. You're clearly miserable." Laila was glaring at me.

"I'm not miserable." I muttered.

"You've been moody since you got back from Pakistan." She said. "Please, go talk to your mother and resolve the issues. I cannot bear the moody Saim. I miss my sweetheart Saim."

"You know what? I don't think I can tolerate her emotional thinking anymore! First she goes after Anabia, and now me." I snapped.

"Saim. Please don't say words that you'll regret. She's your mother." 

"Remind her that."

"You are good, Saim. You love your mother unconditionally. Please, please don't forget that. And please don't sin further by saying any harsh words against her. She has no bad intentions, we all know that, so there's no reason to be harsh towards her."

"You are so good, Ma Sha Allah. And yet she is so insecure that you'll..."

"Can you blame her? Our society hasn't exactly set the best examples of Saas-Bahu relationships." She grinned. "Go. Talk to her."

I stood up. "I'm going to try to make her understand one last time. But if she doesn't listen, I will give up and I won't bother until she realises herself."

I headed out of my home, praying that my mother understood without me having to have another argument with her. 

But things with my parents had never been that simple.

****

After two chapters of little to no scenes, this chapter had to be about Rehan and Anabia.

Anabia has formed a beautiful bond with her in-laws. For once, I didn't want the usual in-laws drama.

Is Saba the one for Yasin?

Will Saim be able to get through to his mother?

Thoughts and comments?

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