IRFAZ'S POV

After dropping Ahaan off, I made my way to pick up my begum. On the way, I passed a flower shop and decided to buy her a bouquet as a token of apology for making her wait.

I parked the car and went inside the shop.

"Welcome," I was warmly greeted by a lady who appeared to be around 45. She was busy making a bouquet.

"What brings you to my little shop today?" she asked.

"Hmm... I need a bouquet. Something... special," I replied, unsure about what to buy. I didn't want to get red roses just yet since I hadn't confessed my feelings to her. So, I decided to find something beautiful and meaningful.

"Special, hmm? Let me guess it's for someone very important?" she raised an eyebrow playfully.

"You could say that. It's for my... wife," I said.

"Ah, I see! Lucky girl. So, are we talking roses?" she clapped her hands gently.

"No roses. I want something unique. Do you have any suggestions?" I asked.

"Hmm, unique and meaningful...," she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "How about peonies? Red and pink."

"What's the meaning of them?" I asked, as flowers weren't exactly my area of expertise.

"Peonies," she began enthusiastically, "symbolize romance and prosperity. Pink ones represent love and happiness, while red ones stand for passion and deep affection."

I nodded slowly, her explanation making me feel like I was choosing more than just flowers it was a message.

"They sound perfect. Should I mix them?" I asked.

She smiled brightly and nodded. "Absolutely! Mixing pink and red will give you the perfect balance of love, passion, and prosperity. It'll be just right for your wife."

I smiled back, feeling more confident in my choice. "Alright, let's do it."

The florist began carefully selecting the peonies, arranging them in her hands with a graceful touch.

"You've got good taste," she said, glancing up at me. "This bouquet will speak volumes, trust me."

I watched as she added the red and pink peonies together, blending them seamlessly. The flowers came together beautifully, their vibrant colors standing out against the soft greenery she added to balance the arrangement.

As she finished the bouquet, I couldn't help but think about how Izel would react. I had never thought much about flowers before, but now it felt like this gesture was more than just a gift it was a way to communicate my feelings.

"How's this?" she asked, stepping back to show me the finished bouquet.

I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. "It's perfect."

I stepped out of the shop, paying and thanking her for the bouquet.

------

As I reached the car, I thought about buying some cheesecake for her. "Irfaz, tu ab agar aur der kar gaya toh takeaway kar lena. Ab bhaga gadi ko biwi se pitne mein maza nahi ayega." (Irfaz, if you delay any longer, just get a takeaway. Racing to the car now won't be fun when your wife starts chasing you.) I said to myself and pressed the accelerator.

When I arrived, I saw her bidding goodbye to Sana.

"Waah, bade jaldi agaye Shohar ji," (Wow, you've arrived so quickly, husband) she said, sitting in the car and crossing her arms.

I turned to the back and retrieved the bouquet I had prepared for her.

"Sorry jaan, bouquet le raha tha toh choose karne mein late hogya." (Sorry, my love, I got late choosing the bouquet.) I said, pouting.

"Chalo, maaf kiya itne pyare peonies ke liye." (Alright, I forgive you, for these beautiful peonies.) She said as she took the bouquet from me.

"If you don't know, let me tell you, peonies are my favourite," she confessed.

"Besides peonies?" I asked curiously,  

"Blue roses," she replied.

"Any reason?" I asked.

She paused for a moment, then said, "Blue roses are rare, almost impossible to find in nature. They represent something unattainable, mysterious... like a dream. They stand for desire, the longing for something that feels just out of reach. There's something beautiful about that."

I nodded, intrigued by her insight. "That's... deep. I can see why you'd love them."

She smiled softly. "Exactly. They're not just flowers; they carry meaning."

"I'd buy them next time."  

"But I don't want you to buy them for me,"

"Why?" 

"They also hold the meaning of forever loyalty, love, desire... everything," she explained, her eyes distant as if recalling something painful. 

"So I don't want to receive them and live in a false hope that someone will love me forever... except myself."

Her words hung in the air, heavy yet empowering. There was a quiet strength in her voice, a resolve that made me respect her even more.

"Fair enough," I said softly, respecting her sentiment.

"I always give myself a blue rose on my birthday," she said with a wistful smile. "It's been a tradition for seven years now. If I can't find one, I just make one for myself with ribbon."

Her words caught me off guard. There was something deeply touching about the thought of her creating something so meaningful for herself.

"Why a blue rose, though? On your birthday?" I asked, my curiosity growing.

She looked at me, her smile softening. 

"It's a reminder," she said quietly. "That even if the world can't give me what I dream of, I can create it for myself. It's my way of celebrating not just another year of life, but another year of loving and believing in myself."

I stayed silent for a moment, feeling the weight of her words. There was strength in her solitude, and it was both inspiring and humbling. 

"That's... beautiful," I said finally.

"Thank you," she replied with a gentle laugh. "It's a little silly, I know, but it keeps me going."

"Silly? Not at all," I said earnestly. "It's probably one of the most meaningful birthday traditions I've ever heard."

------

As we continued talking, our conversation flowed effortlessly, drifting from flowers to life's little quirks. Her stories had a way of drawing me in, each one tinged with warmth, humor, or a quiet strength that spoke volumes about her character.

Before I knew it, we had reached our destination.

"Well, here we are," I said, glancing at her as she adjusted the bouquet she'd insisted on carrying for me.

"We were supposed to go home, where have you brought me?" she asked.

I smiled, stepping out of the car and walking around to open her door. 

"For lunch, Begum," I replied with a playful grin, gesturing for her to step out.

Her expression softened, a mix of surprise and curiosity. She stepped out gracefully, and together, we entered the cozy little restaurant. I found us a table by the window, pulling out her chair before sitting across from her.

"Time flies when you're talking about flowers and philosophy, doesn't it?"

I chuckled, nodding. 

"It does. Thanks for the bouquet... I got to know more about you."

"Jaan na chahoge, toh saare raaz kah doon, Dil ke har zakhm ka afsana bayaan kar doon. Khuli kitaab si hoon, bas padhne wala koi chahiye, Har jazbaat ko bechaini se samajhne wala koi chahiye."
(If you want, I should reveal all the secrets, narrate the story of every wound in my heart? I am an open book, just need someone who wants to read, someone who will understand every emotion with restlessness.)

Her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. There was something in her voice, a vulnerability hidden beneath the strength, that made my heart tighten.

"I'm here to listen," I said softly, my gaze meeting hers. "Whenever you're ready to share."

She met my eyes for a beat, then smiled faintly, her expression softening. 

"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "But maybe one day."

We both fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of her words still hanging between us, unspoken but understood. The air seemed warmer somehow, as if it held a promise of something more, something deeper.

"I'll be waiting for that day," I said quietly, my heart feeling lighter than before.

She nodded, the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips. 

After lunch, we lingered a little longer, savoring the moment and losing ourselves in conversation. But eventually, reality called us back it was time to head home.

As we walked to the car, the soft afternoon light bathed everything in a golden glow, adding an almost magical quality to the day. I opened the door for her, and she stepped in gracefully, her smile warm and her eyes shimmering with a blend of anticipation and quiet joy.

The drive back was peaceful, the earlier chatter giving way to a comfortable silence. There was no need for words; the unspoken understanding between us said everything.

When we arrived, she stepped out, bouquet still in hand. as she enter our home i was lost in thought.

'Tomorrow, she would no longer just be the woman who filled my world with light and laughter. Tomorrow, she would officially become my wife.'

------

Guys, I'm not including a discussion between Ahaan and Sana in the story just giving Sana's POV and leaving it at that. 

 I don't feel like adding more, heheh. 

Also, I want to finish the book quickly.