HER POV

After he left, I slipped into sleep the dawai's effect and my weak body pulling me under.

A few hours later, my fever finally broke.

I woke up drenched in sweat and dragged myself to the bathroom. After a long shower, I changed into a plain white maxi gown.

Who knows when maut might come... pak rehna chahiye 24x7.

I walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and there it was.

A rich, sinful choco truffle cake. Mera mann mein lalach agya.

Then I spotted a tub of Belgian chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

I took one scoop.

Couldn't resist.

Fridge band kiya... phir se lalach aayi... ek aur scoop.

And I kept repeating it.

Scoop,

fridge band,

temptation,

scoop again.

Eventually, my patience broke.

I grabbed the whole tub, sat on the kitchen counter, and shamelessly devoured half of it.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. My heart skipped for a moment I thought Irfaz had come.

Uske dar se I quickly kept the ice cream tub back and wiped every trace of my midnight crime.

Still licking my lips, I opened the door.

It was the doctor and nurse.

I don't know why... but I felt a twinge of disappointment.

Maybe I was expecting someone else.

They came in and did the usual check-up. My fever was mostly gone just the usual weakness left behind from days of not eating right.

They took my blood for testing and hooked me up to an IV drip.

They stayed with me until the IV drip finished. The nurse gently tucked the blanket around me, and I leaned back, scrolling through reels on my phone mindlessly, just to distract myself.

......

Once the drip was done, they packed their things, gave a few instructions, and quietly left.

The silence after they were gone felt loud.

I started to feel drowsy again.

The warmth of the blanket, the silence, and the IV's after-effect pulling me back into sleep.

But before crashing into bed, I made a quick stop at the washroom nature called.

After I was done, I noticed how dry my skin felt.

That's when I remembered I had skipped my skincare routine for the past few days.

I stayed in the washroom, standing in front of the basin.

Slowly, I began to prep my face, trying to feel normal again, trying to find some control in the routine.

Once I finished, I bent down to wash my hands.

That's when it happened.

The water in the sink shimmered strangely... and then turned red.

Deep, dark red.

Like blood.

My breath hitched.

In that crimson reflection, I saw something that made my heart stop Yusuf... and myself.

The image dragged me back to a time I had buried deep.

Doctors surrounding me.

Needles.

My blood being drawn to save him. That day...the day that shattered something inside me.

A living nightmare now replaying itself right in front of my eyes.

My heart started racing.

I couldn't move.

Couldn't blink.

Just stared at the water, at the reflection, as if it had sucked me into that day.

"Tumhare bhai ko khoon ki zarurat thi," someone had said gently,

"toh tumhare parents ne tumhara blood le lene ke liye kaha."

The voice echoed in my ears.

Her voice.

That moment.

Every word came crashing back with the force of a storm.

I thought I had moved on.

But trauma doesn't leave like that. It hides, waits, and then attacks when you least expect it.

I gripped the sink, my fingers trembling.

My chest tightened.

The air felt heavy.

The reflection wouldn't fade it stared back, relentless.

My knees gave way.

My vision blurred.

And then... nothing.

Darkness swallowed me whole as I collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor.

.......

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in my washroom.

I was in a hospital bed.

The sterile smell, the beeping machines, and the IV drip attached to my bed confirmed it.

And then I saw him.

Irfaz.

He was sitting beside me, his posture rigid, but his eyes... his eyes were locked on me with a kind of intensity that made my breath hitch.

There was something raw in his gaze fear, guilt, worry all tangled together.

I tried to sit up, but dizziness washed over me like a tide, forcing me back onto the pillow.

Irfaz reacted instantly, his hand gently pressing my shoulder.

"Take it easy," he murmured, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it.

Concern laced every syllable.

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw it the worry written all over his face.

It wasn't just concern.

It was something deeper.

But I couldn't speak.

Not yet.

The memory of the water turning red... the reflection... Yusuf...

It was all still too heavy.

Too fresh.

So I just lay there, eyes open but words locked away, as Irfaz sat beside me in silence waiting, watching, and perhaps, hurting too.

Irfaz gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch careful, as if afraid I'd break again.

"I was so scared," he whispered, eyes never leaving mine.

"When I saw you like that... collapsed on the floor I didn't know if you'd wake up."

His voice cracked slightly, but he steadied it.

"You don't have to carry all this alone, okay? Kya cheez tumhe takleef de rhi hein. Kya hua...Bata sakte ho tum mujhe....itna haq rakhta hu mein tumhare Zindagi mein.... Jo kuch bhi andar daba ke rakhna chah rahe ho....let it out. I'm here."

He reached for my hand, his thumb softly tracing circles over my knuckles.

"Mujhe nahi pata tumne kya saha hai pehle hein...mein tumhari guzri hui pal nhi wapas la sakta Izel...par....aane wala kal inshallah...Inshallah.... behtarin karne ki niyat rakhta hu You re not alone now.... I'm here with you .....har ek kadam chalne ko taiyar baitha hu"

His words wrapped around me like a blanket gentle, warm, and steady.

"For once, just let someone be there for you. Let me be that someone."

I opened my mouth, trying to respond trying to let the storm inside me find words.

But nothing came out.

No sentences.

No explanations.

Just one name.

Fragile.

Barely a whisper.

"Irfaz..."

His grip on my hand tightened, gently.

"I'm right here," he said, leaning in closer, his eyes soft and unwavering.

"Take your time. You don't have to say anything if you're not ready."

And just like that, something inside me cracked not loud, not dramatic but enough for tears to well up in my eyes.

He didn't rush me.

Didn't ask anything else.

He just sat there, his presence saying everything I needed to hear.

"Irfaz, mein theek hoon... aur mujhe bhi nahi pata yeh kaise hua," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

"Achaanak chakr aaya... aur mein gir gayi," I said.

The words felt so small, so incomplete. But they were the only ones that escaped my lips.

Irfaz's face softened, his hand still resting on mine, his touch grounding me.

"Don't worry," he said gently, his voice steady, though there was an unmistakable concern in his eyes.

"We'll figure this out together. You don't have to carry it all alone, Bacha."

We sat there, his hand never leaving mine, as if anchoring me to the present.

The quiet between us wasn't uncomfortable just... calm.

His presence was the only thing that made the world feel a little less heavy.

.......

We stayed like that for a while, the silence speaking louder than any words could.

Finally, I broke it again.

"Irfaz..."

"Haan g jaan?" he replied, his voice still soft, his gaze never leaving me.

"Ghr pe Quran khatam rakhni hai mujhe," I said, my voice steady but filled with an unspoken weight.

It was a request, a small one, but it felt important something I needed to do, for peace.

For closure.

He nodded in response, understanding the weight behind my words, though he didn't say anything at first.

"Ghar pe pehli dawat bhi ho jayegi..."

I added quietly, the thought crossing my mind as I glanced down at my hand, still holding his.

"...Aur phir sab kuch thoda behtar hoga, shaayad."

It wasn't just about the Quran, not entirely. It was about setting things right.

Starting fresh.

A little piece of normalcy, a small ritual that felt like it might bring a sense of peace to the chaos I was feeling inside.

Irfaz's thumb gently rubbed over the back of my hand, his touch steadying me.

"You don't have to carry all of this alone, Jaan," he said softly, his voice calm but laced with a tenderness that made my chest tighten.

"I'll be there for you. Every step of the way."

"Par pehle bata rahi hoon, dawat ki tayyari mein khud karungi," I said, trying to sound firm, though my voice was still weak.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Pehle aap theek toh ho jayein, begum," he said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead one that lingered just long enough to make my heart flutter.

"Uske baad jo karna hai kar lena... main bhi madad kar dunga aapki," he added, his voice a mix of teasing and care.

I looked at him, a faint blush creeping to my cheeks.

Maybe it was the medication, or maybe it was just him but for the first time in days, I felt warmth.

Real, comforting warmth.

"Promise?" I asked, almost childishly.

He raised his brow, grinning slightly.

"I love you, Izel," he said quietly, like a sacred confession meant only for the silence between us.

He looked at me, his eyes softening as if he'd been holding back those words for a long time.

My breath caught.

Something about the way he said it without drama, without expectation just truth, raw and gentle, made my chest ache in the best way.

His hand was still holding mine, his thumb drawing slow circles over my skin, grounding me.

I didn't say anything for a second. I just looked at him, blinking back the sting in my eyes.

"Hmmm"

"Hmmm..." I hummed, pretending to be nonchalant, but my gaze drifted out of the window desperately trying to hide the sudden heat crawling up my cheeks.

Meri temperature fir se badh gayi thi.

Na fever ka asar tha, na kisi dawai ka side effect.

Sirf uske "I love you, Izel" ne mujhe laal tamatar bana diya tha.

I could feel his eyes still on me, probably enjoying my reaction a little too much.

"Waise, yeh blush dawaiyon ka effect hein ya mera?," he teased, leaning closer, mischief dancing in his tone.

"Shut up," I muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes.

But inside?

Inside, it felt like someone had finally lit a candle in a dark room I'd been trapped in for too long.

........

"Ghar nahi chalna?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

I turned to look at him, my heart feeling light in a way it hadn't in days.

"Tum ho toh yahi," I said, my voice barely a whisper but full of sincerity.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was nothing else but the quiet of the room and the unspoken understanding between us.

"I'll always be here, Jaan," he said, his hand gently cupping my face, as if holding my world together with the warmth of his touch.

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Quran Khatam refers to the completion of reciting the entire Quran. It is a significant act of devotion in Islam, often celebrated when a person finishes reading or listening to the Quran from start to finish.

Quran Khatam can be done in two ways:

1. Individually - when one person completes the entire recitation of the Quran on their own.

2. Collectively - sometimes families invite a few Maulanas or Hafiz (those who have memorized the Quran) to recite different portions, completing the Quran together.

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Few days passed, and my health finally improved.

I started going back to the office after what felt like a long, emotional break. It was time to return-not just to work, but to myself. Our little bubble, our unspoken vacation... ends here.

The moment I stepped into the office, I took a deep breath. The scent of coffee, fabric samples, and printer ink-it felt strangely comforting.

I walked straight to my desk and began checking every last detail of the upcoming launch.

Final outfit approvals.

Last-minute changes in the embroidery patterns.

Some hemlines needed adjusting.

Color mismatches in two of the designs.

And someone forgot to update the media kit.

I wasn't angry. I was... alive again.

Back in my element, sleeves rolled up, mind focused.

I was buried in files, designs, approvals-everything. It was too much, but my focus didn't waver.

Sana barged into my office with her usual dramatic flair.

"Yaar, saara kaam iss hafte hi khatam kar legi kya?" she huffed, dropping into the chair opposite me.

"Haan toh," I said, not even lifting my head from the paperwork,

"Itne din ka break ka kaam hai... aur upar se waqt thodi ruk raha hai ki pehle wala kaam khatam kar lo, tab jaake naya shuru karo. Upar se itni late delivery karwayi hai mere gher-maujoodgi mein."

Sana let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Bas, tumhara office comeback toh hurricane jaisa hota hai."

I smirked, finally glancing up.

"Storm toh tab aata hai jab deadline miss hoti hai. Abhi toh sirf damage control chal raha hai."

"Saare employee bol rahe the boss pehle se akhru ho gayi hai aur strict," Sana teased, raising an eyebrow.

I let out a dry laugh, flipping another page of the design sheet.

"Akhru nahi hui hu, bas jo disbalance hua or tumlogo ne kaam jitna dheela kia h usko tight krne mein lgi hu. Pyaar se kaam Karna hai toh karo, warna resignation table pe deke jao."

Sana chuckled.

"Bas yeh attitude missing tha office mein. Ab sabko lagega asli boss wapas aa gayi hai."

"Aur kaam bhi inhi haathon se hoga," I said, winking as I handed her a file.

"Yeh client follow-up tum karo. Aur haan coffee bhi le aana, double shot."

"Aap kaho toh, buffet laga du?" Sana said with a grin, dramatically stretching like she was already halfway to the canteen.

I glanced at my watch, surprised.

"Yaar, itni jaldi lunch time ho gayi?" I mumbled, eyebrows knitting.

"Tumhare liye jaldi, hamare liye toh bhookh se jaan ja rahi hai," she rolled her eyes playfully.

"Subah se paperwork se romance kar rahi ho, ab zara khaana bhi dekh lo."

I smirked, finally leaning back in my chair.

"Thik hai, ja lunch order kar. Lekin main sirf 20 minute ka break lungi. Deadlines don't wait."

"Aur Irfaz ka phone aaya toh?" she asked, smirking.

I looked at her, lips twitching into a secret smile.

"Phir 21 minute."

"Ek kaam kar, khud chal ke lele lunch. Inspection kar lena tere canteen ka kya haal hua hai," Sana said, hands on her hips.

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Kuch kaand ho gaya hai kya?"

She dramatically exhaled, like she'd survived a warzone.

"Kaand? Toofan aaya hua hai. Lunch ke naam pe sirf do cheezein mil rahi hain-namak aur disappointment."

"Astagfirullah, Khuda ka khauf kar, kya bol rahi hai," I muttered, already standing and tying my niqab.

"Roz-e-qayamat ka haal suna diya tu ne canteen ke liye."

"Toh dekh le, warna staff ke sabr ka imtihaan lete lete tu bhi test pass kar jaayegi," she smirked.

I shook my head, grabbed my phone and said,

"Chal, dekhte hain kya qayaamat ka buffet laga hai wahan."

As I stepped into the kitchen area, I saw all the employees-designers, interns, even the sleepy accounts guy-crammed into the canteen, happily munching.

"Bhai yeh kya ho raha hai? Sab canteen mein kaise aaj?" I asked, genuinely confused.

Sana popped a french fry in her mouth and whispered dramatically,

"Aapke shohar ka kiya hua kaand hai yeh."

My heart skipped.

"Kya kiya Irfaz ne?" I asked, brows shooting up.

She grinned like she'd been waiting to spill the tea.

"Poora canteen cater karwa diya! Keh rahe the, 'Meri biwi office wapas ja rahi hai, toh celebration toh banta hai.' Designer se chef ban gaye aaj Irfaz sahab."

I blinked. "Yeh banda serious hai ya Netflix ka rom-com lead?"

"Aur kya! Sab keh rahe hain aisa boss jiska shohar treat de, woh toh HR se pehle HRD ban gayi!" she laughed.

I sighed, trying not to smile but completely failing.

"Usse kehna... ghar pe milna, jawab wahin milega."

"Hume yaad kiya, begum apne?" A voice called out from behind me.

I turned, and there he was-Irfaz, holding a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

He handed me the flowers and wrapped his arm around me in a side hug.

"Kya kiya apne, janab? Yeh bataye pehle," I said, gently touching the delicate petals.

"Maine toh bas aaj ki walima dawat rakhi hai apke office pe," he replied with a smile.

"Sana toh keh rahi thi..." I started, but before I could finish, Sana popped in from nowhere.

"Bhai, mujhe badi bhookh lag rahi hai, jiju. Aap apni begum sambhalo, main chali... paith puja karne... mera kaam khatam yahi," she winked and cut her way through, leaving us both chuckling.

He pulled out a chair for me, a gentle smile on his face as he gestured for me to sit. I sat down, feeling a little overwhelmed by the attention.

"Khaana bhejwa do, kisi ko," Irfaz instructed one of the staff members, his voice calm but commanding.

As he settled into the chair next to mine, he looked at me with those soft, caring eyes. I couldn't help but smile at how effortlessly he made everything feel special. The bouquet of peonies was still resting on the table, their fragrance filling the air, but his presence made everything else fade into the background.

"Ab bataye, walima ka kya scene hai?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm... Walima pe inko sharik hone ka mauka nahi mila tha, toh socha aaj treat de doon sabko," he said, gesturing lightly toward the canteen crowd. "Aur upar se meri begum kuch dinon se itna kaam kar rahi hai... aur karwa bhi rahi hai in becharon se, ki mujhse inka dukh dekha nahi gaya."

"Zayn ko batau kaise tumhe mere employees pe toh taras aa gaya, lekin uss bechare pe nahi?" I replied, narrowing my eyes playfully.

He grinned. "Acha sorry... main toh mazak kar raha tha. Yeh sab toh sirf bahaana tha-maqsad toh sirf apni biwi se milne ka tha."

Before I could say anything more, the food arrived-fragrant chicken biryani, soft naan, butter paneer, mixed vegetables, and for dessert, gooey date chocolates and warm gulab jamun.

"Hmm, that's a better excuse," I said, eyeing the food.

"Astagfirullah, Izel... Khuda ka khauf karo. Yahan tumhara shohar apne haal-e-dil bayan kar raha hai, aur tum uski baaton ko yunhi zaya kar rahi ho?" he said, placing a dramatic hand on his chest.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, happily diving into the food like I hadn't eaten in days.

"Waah, ignore ho gaya main toh... itni beizzati," he said with an exaggerated pout.

I smirked, still chewing, and replied casually, "Hmm... yeh sab toh theek hai, lekin tumne ek baat ab tak nahi batayi..."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Kya? Jo aapko ab tak pata nahi chal payi?"

I placed my spoon down and leaned a little forward. "Mujhse nikah karne ka kya plan tha? Woh bhi as a replaced groom? Yeh baat ab tak hazam nahi ho rahi mujhe."

For a moment, I saw it-his pupils twitched, and the colour drained from his face. The mask slipped, just slightly, revealing the secret he still guarded.

But I wasn't some overdramatic Indian soap heroine, ready to shout "sach ka parda faash!" I had learned to pick my battles... and this wasn't one of them.

I let out a small chuckle, brushing away the weight of the moment.

"Mazak kar rahi hoon, Irfaz. Chehre ka rang kyun udd gaya? Khao, khao... biryani tasty hai."

And just like that, the question was left hanging in the air, unsaid but not forgotten.

.........

SORRY FOR LATE UPDATE 😔

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