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Iman

My work is hectic, mentally and physically exhausting. There are days that I feel like my shift would never end. There are days when I feel like I lived at the hospital. Sometimes, I see an empty hospital bed, and it's so tempting to just lie there and close my eyes for just a few seconds, to recharge myself.

But my work is what yanks me out of the current affairs of my home politics, and it takes me to a place where I was just me. Dr Iman Fawad, a doctor who is dedicated to her career. Not a daughter-in-law who is a human version of a dustbin, where all taunts and criticisms are dumped.

Currently, I stood at the nurses' station, tapping my pen against my notebook, as I waited to be assigned a patient. I bit the inside of my cheeks, my gaze scanning the notices on the memo board on the wall. 

As I waited, I saw Papa on the other side of the circular nurses' station. He was writing something on a clipboard, a thoughtful frown on his face. 

Almost absent-mindedly, I also frowned, attempting to mimic his facial expressions. He adjusted his glasses as he wrote, and I did the same.  And as he clearly signed on the clipboard, I pretended to do the same on my notebook. He ran a hand through his hair and I did the exact same, expect that my hair was in a bun and I only felt the light frizz at the top of my head, rather than thick locks. Mama often told me that I used to copy him all the time. 

"Iman, there you are! We have been looking all over for you." 

I jumped, my cheeks warm as I worried about being caught imitating my father. 

My two friends at work, Najah and Maariyah were walking towards me, both looking at me with identical bemused expressions.

*In Where We Belong, I randomly added readers to the stories. And now, I want to add two more special readers:

NajahRaees and patni02

"I'm waiting for my latest patient." I told them.

"Uh- the patients have been assigned inside the employee break room." Maariyah pointed out. "Zack was wondering where you were actually."

"Don't get started." I rolled my eyes, shaking my head.

"She's not kidding. He literally asked where you were, even though Callum was not there either." Najah giggled.

Dr Zack O'Connor, the Irish consultant who was unfortunate enough to have to handle us junior doctors. He was good-looking, with neat cropped red hair and green eyes that reminded me of a forest during spring. Najah and Maariyah were certainly not the only ones who had told me that he had a thing for me, but these two were the only ones who only talked about it light-heartedly in a non-offending way. From the others, I'd heard whispers about 'favouritism'.

"Speaking of hot..." Najah pursed her lips together and glanced across the nurses' station.

"No." I told her without even following her gaze.

"Why? He is..." Najah began to say, but bit her lower lip sheepishly as she saw my narrow-eyed glared. "Okay, down lioness. I was just messing around." Although, her pink cheeks said otherwise.

"Besides, Najah is happily betrothed to Mirza Ibrahim Baig." Maariyah pointed out. 

The name Ibrahim almost startled me, but then I remembered that she wasn't talking about my Ibrahim, she meant the man Najah was engaged to.

*Ha ha, specially for you @NajahRaees :D

Wait. My Ibrahim? I shook my head at stupidity. I meant, my cousin Ibrahim.

Ibbi, my best friend in childhood, my Arhaan Mamu's son.

"We better get to work." Maariyah sighed. "Iman, go and see Zack."

I wrinkled my nose and the three of us walked down the hallway. The two friends of mine entered the lift while I headed to Zack's office.

*

"Iman, you know I can't cut you some slack because you are my boss' daughter, right?" Zack sat back in his seat and observed me carefully.

"I never asked to...have slack cut..." I winced internally at my stupid words. But it was true. I never asked to be treated better simply because who my father was.

"You are a bright, talented doctor." He nodded. "But lately, your mind seems distracted. I WhatsApped the group yesterday evening that your new patients will be assigned in the break room, and everyone had read the message." 

"I'm sorry, Zack. It won't happen again." 

He nodded. "Good." He stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am rooting for you to win that cardiothoracic surgeon position one day, Dr Iman. If you continue your usually exceptional work, I will highly recommend you." 

"Thank you, doctor. That means a lot." I smiled weakly.

He smiled back at me, and the warmth in his eyes made me wonder if what people said was true.

But it didn't matter. What mattered was that he had boosted up my determination to achieve my dream. He was my senior, my boss, and coming from him, those words meant a lot to me.

*

Taif

"I heard that Dr Zachariah had a lot of nice words to say about Dr Iman." A nurse casually told me as we walked out of a patient's room. "Everyone says that he feels that Dr Iman has a really good chance at becoming a cardiothoracic surgeon."

A pang of bitterness shot up inside me, and I was mortified to realise that it was envy. "So? Iman is really good at her job." Ma Sha Allah.

"Yes, but everyone knows that she's going to get the position either way." The nurse shrugged.

My hands curled into fists. Today was not the right day for me to be hearing these things. I was going to talk to my parents regarding Ghazala Phupho, to support Iman. I didn't want to be resenting my wife in any way. "She will get the position based on her hard work, In Sha Allah."

"Who would ever believe that? Would you?" He asked, and before I could say or react, he was called away by a senior nurse.

I shook my head, pushing aside thoughts that could cause a fire of resentment between me and Iman. It was a potential rift, a crack that I needed to jump over successfully.

*

When I got home, Ammi Jaan was in the kitchen chopping onions, the unavoidable tears in her eyes. 

"Assalam Alaikum, Ammi Jaan." I said, warmly.

"Walaikum Assalam." She looked towards me, blinking rapidly.

"I need to talk to you and Baba Jaan. Iman and I both do, actually." 

She shook her head. "It's not necessary. Ghazala Baji is gone." She put the knife down and rubbed her eyes using her dupatta. "I realised that I was very unfair to Iman, and I suggested to Baji that she should leave. It hurts to do that to our elders, but it was necessary."

"Now that's the amazing Ammi Jaan that I know and love." 

"Jao kapde badlo. Main khana garam karti hoon. Iman kahan hai?" 

*"Go change. I will heat up the food. Where is Iman?" 

"She'll be home soon, In Sha Allah." I turned to walk towards the stairs.

"What's wrong, Taif?" Her soft voice stopped me. "You seem tensed. Is this to do with what's being going on, or is it something else?" 

It was a mixture of everything: family politics, tension about paying the home rent, and now this strange feeling regarding Iman's capabilities at work. I didn't want to feel that way. She had worked hard to get where she was, on her own basis, and she deserved all the success in the world...and yet, I wondered how I would feel if she successfully became a surgeon, and I didn't.

Stop. Don't go there. Shaitan is poisoning your mind against Iman. I had to remind myself by pinching the skin on my forearm. 

I thought of Iman, dressed in her comfortable cotton night-suit, her long dark hair curtaining her face, sitting on the bed, making notes as she studied. I thought of the focused expression on her face, the way she chewed her lower lip as if trying to make sense of the words in front of her. Never, ever had she given the vibe that she felt that she could easily achieve the position that she dreamt off.

She's better than you. 

I pinched my arm again, harder this time, and winced. Do not let the devil poison your think. 

And then my imagination went wild. I imagined Iman standing beside her father and other senior doctors at the hospital, being told that she was officially a cardiothoracic surgeon. Automatically, my jaw clenched as raw envy lashed at my heart, staining the purity of my soul, as I began to feel that she would get the position whether she deserved it or not.

****

"Here." 

I looked up and saw Iman standing by the bed, holding out a vegetarian mozzarella and pesto wrap, the one that I liked. I had just started preparing for my exam, when she had walked in. "What's this for?" 

"I know you like it." She headed to the cupboard and put her bag inside it, before grabbing a fresh change of clothes and a towel. Freeing her hair from the bun, she let it fall over her back in soft, almost black waves.

"Thanks." I mumbled.

She looked at me. "Aunty told me that she had asked Ghazala Phupho to leave." 

"Yeah, she is gone." I set my book aside and took my glasses off. "Peace at last, right?" I pinched the bridge.

"I never wanted this, Taif. It was just necessary to maintain the peace in our home." 

"I know." I closed my eyes and lay back on the bed. When I heard no moment for a few seconds, I opened my eyes again to see her standing there, staring at me with a mixture of bewilderment and confusion clouding her eyes. "What is it, Iman?"

"You're acting weird." 

I grabbed my book and stood up. "I think I'm going to the library to study for a bit. You can sleep peacefully here."

"Seriously, Taif, what is going on with you?" 

"Nothing! I just really need to study. A lot depends on this exam." I began to brush past her. I didn't want issues between us, and for that, it was probably best for me to leave right now.

"I was thinking we can study together." She suggested. "Help each other?" 

"TAIF!" Ammi Jaan's shout from downstairs made both me and Iman dash towards the door. 

My heart pounded hard in my chest as I worried for my mother's safety and health. As our parents' become elderly, every little thing regarding them starts to worry you. "Ammi Jaan, what's wrong?" I entered the living room, followed by a panting Iman, and we saw my parents sitting on the sofa, looking like their entire world had collapsed. Baba Jaan was holding a letter, and was practically scrunching it as he gaze wandered over it blankly. Ammi Jaan was sobbing into her dupatta. "What happened?" My voice rose with panic.

"W-We got a final warning." Baba Jaan spoke, grimly. "If we don't pay the rent within five working days, we must leave the house." 

I stumbled back, feeling utter mental exhaustion drape itself over me like a thick blanket. This was the last thing we needed right now. Where was I going to gather the money from? Life in London wasn't cheap, and I certainly did not have money stashed around for rainy days. We've already had so many rainy days that the savings had been used up.

"How much do we owe them?" Iman spoke up.

Baba Jaan handed her the letter, where the amount was clearly written. Iman pursed her lips as she looked at the letter, before looking up. "I have some savings. I would like to help." 

I looked at her, sharply. My parents looked at her as if she had just announced that she was going to join a travelling circus.

"No, Iman, of course not." Ammi Jaan shook her head.

"Why not?" She shrugged. "I live here too. If we have to evict, I have to move out too. So why can't I contribute?" 

My heart sank as Iman unwittingly reminded me of why I was so much in love with her: her compassion and generosity was bigger than even she realised. And she deserves all the success, all the achievements because of her beautiful personality, her determination and her intelligent mind. I felt terrible for having the awful thoughts earlier. "Iman, we can't ask you to do that." 

"You're not asking me. I want to." She whispered. "Please allow me to do this, Uncle and Aunty. With mine and Taif's schedule, it is impossible for us to look for a new place right now, not to mention move our entire life there." When my parents didn't say anything, she added. "Please, I insist." 

Baba Jaan nodded. "Only on the condition that you will allow Taif to repay half of the amount, if not all of it, as soon as he can."

"I will accept half, to make things fair." Iman gave him a small smile that made my heart skip a beat.

*

Iman

"You really didn't have to do this." Taif came into the room, just as I got into bed for my after-work nap.

"Why? I want a roof over my head too, you know." I said, lightly, taking my glasses off and setting them on the bedside table, before grabbing my phone to put it on silent mode.

"Can I ask you something, Iman?" He suddenly looked serious as he sat down at the other side of the bed.

"Sure."

"Imagine if Ghazala Phupho was right, and if only one of us got to be a surgeon..." He spoke in a volume that was barely above a whisper.

My heart sank down all the way to the stomach. "What are you saying, Taif?" 

"I'm speaking theoretically." He shrugged. "If our financial circumstances only allow one of us to be a cardiothoracic surgeon...?" 

I blinked at him, too stunned to reply for a few seconds. I was five or six when my craze for being a doctor had started, when I had received my first doctor's kit. Mama had just brought it casually, thinking that Appi and I would enjoy playing make-up games with it, but I had taken it seriously. As I grew up, my interest in science, especially biology, grew along with me. I read Papa's medical books, and I asked him questions endlessly, which he answered tirelessly, in a way that was easy for my young mind to understand. I didn't remember a life when I hadn't wanted to be a doctor. And, gradually, as I began to understand my father's profession, I decided that I also wanted to be a surgeon.

"You are so, so good. Ma Sha Allah. I think you should be the one who should achieve this dream." His words shocked me even more, and the sincerity on his face made me want to cry.

"No, Taif, this is what we both wanted. We just need to ace this exam." 

"We need to think about the circumstances where we can't ace the exam."

"Yes, we will!" My voice rose. "I'm telling you, we will study together. We will do whatever we have to, okay?" 

"Everyone believes in you and your talent, Iman." 

I was confused. "What do you mean? Taif, you're a brilliant doctor, so I have no idea what you're trying to say." 

"I heard that Dr Zachariah was praising your skills." 

"So? He's like a mentor to me. They are meant to encourage us, especially when they think we are doing well. But he also criticises me harshly if I slack." I frowned. "And why do you care what Zack thinks? You need to just focus on acing the exam." 

He turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Do you want me to back out of this, Taif?" I asked. "Do you want me to step away from my dream of being a surgeon?" 

He looked at me, pursing his lips. "If I ask you to, would you do it?" 

I have been taught to value relationships over anything in the world. Nothing mattered more than relationships. "No." I swallowed hard. "I wish I can lie to you and say 'yes', and pretend that I am willing to sacrifice everything, but this is something that defines me, Taif. If you ask me to step aside, you are asking me to make a sacrifice that is more than I can bear. And if you ask me to do this, you are not the man that I married."

He gave me a small smile. "If you had said 'yes', then you would not be the woman that I fell in love with." He held out a hand. "It's not going to be easy, but we will get through it together, In Sha Allah." 

I placed my hand in his and moved closer. "Did you feel bad that Zack praised me?" 

He sighed. "I felt insecure. On the face of it, you have so much advantage, Iman. You are brilliant, hard-working, and you have the financial support to easily afford the surgeon training. These thoughts keep bombarding me, bothering me." He shook his head. "But, I am an idiot. You are Iman Fawad, you fight for what you want, you work for it. I admire that about you, I'm proud of you." 

"It really worries me, Taif." I admitted. "I keep thinking that you'll never feel secure enough around me to realise that I am in the same boat as you. I'm not going to take any unfair advantage, but I feel like you'd never believe that." 

"I'm sorry, Iman. I feel like I'm losing a powerful battle against Shaitan." 

I moved even closer and placed my hands on his cheeks. "I'm your partner, not your competition, Taif Bukhari. I will boost you up, not bring you down. I will support you, help you pass this exam, and then when the time comes, you'll do the same for me. Deal?" 

"Why are these thoughts corrupting my mind? I don't like it."

"Because Shaitan likes to destroy marriages, as marriage is so beloved to Allah." I kissed his cheek. "But this battle is just another thing that we're going to have to overcome together, don't you think?" I gently shoved him back so that he fell on his back onto the bed. Tugging up his shirt, I slid my hands over his stomach and onto his chest. 

Taif didn't have the stereotypical male-lead body. There was not a hint of six pack, just his flat, soft stomach. His upper arms were slightly firm, but not exactly how novels describe an alpha-male lead's. I have been asking too many times how I was attracted to him. Yes, he was good looking in a boyishly charming way, but he wasn't exactly a supermodel- not my words!

But what people didn't realise is that over the years, he had won me over. Once I'd started my medical education properly, I had lost focus on anything but my studies, but he was always there in a discreet manner. Offering me coffee when I was buried in books, helping me out if I was struggling with a new subject, or the way he always seemed to just listen and understand when I was ranting on about an incredibly stressful day at work. For seven years, he had respected our non-mehram boundaries. For some years, he had never pressured me to discuss any potential relationship. He'd only asked me to let him know when I was ready for his parents to come and talk to mine.

"I am usually not upfront about my feelings, but I want to marry you, Iman. I feel like we are compatible, we understand each other and that we would make good partners in life." He had once told me.

Love wasn't bold and dramatic romantic gestures. Love was about silent understanding, about ease of communication, about trusting each other, about compatibility. And yes, I trusted Taif so, so much. He'd never disrespected me or my boundaries, and not just out of fear for the fact that my father was his boss, and we worked at the same hospital.

A part of me felt a little hurt that he had those thoughts about me, even though I had adjusted myself so much for him and his family, and I had done it happily.

But his admittance that he was fighting a battle with Shaitan had made me realise that he was also a human. He was not an unrealistic character of a book. He had his own demons, just like I did. What I loved was that he had voiced out his insecurities to me in a sensible, mature way. He hadn't turned these insecurities into anger and lashed out at me.

"Don't you want to sleep?" He muttered as I straddled him.

"Will you ever be insecure by me again?" I asked.

"Maybe. But that's because you have no idea how amazing you are, Iman. Ma Sha Allah." 

"Partner, not competition." I lay over him and repeated my words, planting a soft kiss over his bare chest. The light chest hair tickled my mouth as I did so, causing me to smile. I clasped our hands together.

"What you did for my family..." He muttered as I kissed his neck. His hands rested on my waist, teasingly brushing the slightly exposed skin beneath my hemline. 

"Our family." I corrected him.

He sat up and leaned against the headboard, pulling me closer. "I promise that I will always share my insecurities with you, so that you can talk some sense into me." 

"You think I'm capable of such a huge task?" I asked teasingly, placing my hand on his cheek and brushing my thumb over his lips.

"I think if anyone can do it, it's you." His voice sounded almost husky with desire. 

*

MATURE CONTENT

Taif

Iman was damn s*xy. As I pulled her shirt off, I gazed adoringly at her bare shoulders that immediately got blanketed by the thick locks of her dark here. She was wearing a tan-coloured lace bra, which contrasted against her beautiful golden-brown skin. My gaze went to her chest, which was rising up and down rapidly, down to her stomach.

I moved forward and kissed her at the hollow at the base of her throat, and I felt her fast pulse underneath, which made me smile. It was so unbelievable that a hot, stunning beauty like Iman was reacting this way to me. I never had much confidence in my appearance, but Iman had slowly taken away all my insecurities with her unconditional love and support. I moved up, leaving a trail of kisses along her throat and to her chin, before my mouth met hers. I lay over her, my hands exploring her bare back as I continued kissing her. 

I felt my cheeks warm up naturally as my need for her became obvious to both of us. 

"Do I turn you on, doctor?" Iman whispered, pulling lightly at my hair with both hands.

"You do things to me that I cannot even mention..." I whispered. I lay on my side, propped up on an elbow, and placed a finger over her forehead. Slowly, I trailed it down over her nose, her lips, her chin, her throat, over her cleavage, down to her belly button, before it hooked itself over her waistband. "I love you, Iman. I love you so, so much that I feel disgusted that I ever felt resentful thoughts towards you." 

"I love you too." She said, breathlessly, reaching out and fumbling for the fan remote. She turned it on and then careless tossed the remote back on the table with a clatter. She then moved up and pulled me close for a kiss again.

And as we kissed, we pulled each other's trousers down. I reached out to turn the lamp off, and once again, Iman and I were locked in a passionate kiss. Iman's soft, bare body over mine felt incredible and I had no idea how this was my reality. 

There was a brief silence and a pause, followed by the sound of a wrapper as I arranged the protection. 

The bed creaked loudly in protest as I rolled over, on top of her, kissing her bare and neck and shoulders passionately. 

While outside, the silence of the night engulfed our neighbourhood, our room erupted with the sounds of the bed creaking, our moans and groans as Iman and I made love long into the night.

*

Iman

My heart pounded hard with fear.

My body felt sore from our lovemaking last night, but a worrying thought entered my mind: did we use protection each time? I honestly couldn't remember. I had been too lost in the haze of our intense passion that I hadn't thought practically.

I pushed the duvet away and glanced down at my bare belly. My skin suddenly felt cold, and not just because I had pulled myself away from the warmth of Taif and our bed. I was close to having a massive panic attack.

No.

I took shallow breaths, hugging myself. I can't afford to get pregnant right now.

"What's wrong?" Taif muttered sleepily, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"Did we use protection each time?" I asked.

"Yeah." 

"Are you sure?" I asked, worriedly.

He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "Trust me, Iman. I am well aware of the risks. I ensure that we were well protected before each time." He reached out and pulled me closer. 

"I don't want to get pregnant right now." I muttered in a small voice against his chest.

"I know. And I don't want you to get pregnant until you're ready." He kissed the top of my head, tightening his arms around me.

Suddenly I felt very vulnerable. "Taif, what if I don't succeed and I don't become a surgeon?" 

"Hey." He pulled back, glancing down at me. "Where is my strong wife who always gives me strength and courage?" 

"We'll get there, you and me, In Sha Allah." He whispered. "Partners, not competition, right?" He kissed my forehead. 

*

"Let's go!" I shrieked, as we ran towards the bus stop. I could see the bus coming, but we had to really speed up to catch it. I held my arm out for the driver to stop, and fortunately, we got to the bus stop just as the bus doors opened with a hiss. "Thanks." I nodded at the driver, before I made my way to the upper deck, followed by a panting Taif.

I headed towards the back, and pulled my backpack off, sitting down with a sigh. Taif sat down beside me, taking his own backpack off.

"This has become a thing for us." He laughed.

I also laughed as I slid my hand into his. "Yes, it has. Cars are overrated." I looked at him and he returned my gaze, a cheeky glint in his eyes.

We were alone on the upper deck, as it wasn't a busy time of the day. He leaned towards me and I also moved forward. At first, his lips softly brushed mine. But then one smooch turned to another, and then another, and before I knew it, we were fully kissing as the bus drove down the streets towards the hospital route.

We had different issues, various tensions, but we had to remind ourselves that we also had each other for support and companionship. We had to weather the storms and stick together. I was in his Nikah, we were partners. We loved each other. 

We were both in the same field, where the threat of 'competition' was looming over our heads, ready to drop down between us any minute, but I was determined not to let it come between us.

We are partners, not competition.

And as we shared a beautiful kiss on the top of the upper deck on my way to work, I prayed that we always remembered the beauty of our relationship. I prayed that no outside factors created issues between us.

I will fight for us as hard as I am fighting for my career, if not more, Taif Bukhari.

I just hoped that he was willing to do the same.

*

Will the threat of competition become a problem between them?

I realised that I've always written Taif as being the perfect partner, but I wanted to give him some human flaws and qualities as well. His feelings, his insecurities are all natural...but will he overcome them or will they develop into something problematic for them?

Can you guys believe that this is the same Iman as the one in the first half of 'Belong Together'?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote.