Okay idk why i updated but i felt like the last chapter was a disappointment and i felt bad.

I like this chapter tho. It might give you all an insight on where i am going with this story.

Also I'll try to finish this in 30 chapters and get a fresh new non complicated story. You know?

Thinking of ending this before june because ramadan's gonna start. Anywaaayyy, please vote and comment.

Tell me your thoughts on this chapter. If you haven't voted on the previous chapter, do that.

I love you all. Thanks for all the support. Also I feel so bad for Vee ugh. RCB 😭😭😭

Time to read ha!

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@Zaynab101 : Out on the streets 💔

Virat roamed around the streets of Australia, his hand entangled in hers. It felt nice, to have someone so understanding beside him.

Someone he could actually have a conversation with. It had been just two weeks since he met her, but he was totally captivated by her.

Her life story was enchanting, and so much similar to his own.

Sacrificing her happiness for her own sister, leaving the love of her life and hurting herself, being so passionate about a career no one else cared about. He really felt a connection with her.

He had met her on a commercial flight going to Australia. He had flown alone, separate from the team due to some work issues and had met her there.

She didn't know who he was. She just sat there and talked to him like a normal person. She was the one who asked for his number and she was the one who had even invited him to lunch.

This girl was bold and confident, just like someone he knew and yet she was different. He didn't have feelings for her as yet but he was trying to move on and this was a start.

"So what's next?" Virat questioned.

"I have to be somewhere right now, but I'd really like to see you again." She replied, giving him a perfect smile.

Virat nodded.

"Me too, how about you meet me for breakfast on friday? I'll have some spare time." Virat offered aand dhe agreed.

She gave him another wave.

"I'll see you on Friday, Virat." She yelled walking away.

Virat chuckled.

"See you, Zaynab."

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Eira sat on the sofa outside the hotel room, fidgeting with her fingers. She kept bouncing Hani on her lap, watching him giggle everytime he was bounced up and down.

She felt nervous, Maybe? She trusted Faris more than anything but watching him talk to the woman who supposedly wanted to marry him made her jealous.

She realised this was what Faris must have felt when Eira met Virat. She didn't let her possessiveness show. Instead she just focused on Hani.

Zaynab was the carbon copy of Ayesha, Faris' ex wife. So as she briefed Faris about the medical reports and the amount of money they had spent on the treatment, Faris couldn't help but stare at her.

It felt like he was looking at Ayesha's reflection. Except, she wasn't. Zaynab was cunning and selfish, manipulative and mean.

She would do anything to get what she wanted.

Ayesha was innocent. Zaynab cared about money, Ayesha had only cared about Faris.

Faris then looked at Eira and his haze broke, there she was. Looking perfect and beautiful, except she wasn't. She was so much more, she was broken and yet had healed herself, she had worked her way to the top, she had been beaten down and yet she had gotten back up.

Eira was everything he had ever wanted in his life.

Zaynab wore clothes that made Eira realise that she wasn't like other women in their family. She had seen Ayesha's pictures, she used to cover herself but Zaynab seemed like just another Australian girl. She didn't look arabic at all. Her clothes, her style was on point. Only her accent showed her arabic roots.

"Let's go inside now." Zaynab reminded them snapping Eira out of her haze.

Eira stood up with Hani in her arms and an unsteady breath. Hani had clung to Eira every since they arrived. Maybe it was the sudden exposure he was getting, all the strangers in the hospital scaring him, or maybe he sensed her so called 'aunty' was a bitch. That was Eira's thought.

"Faris, why don't you pick him up?" Zaynab suggested and Eira knew what she was trying to do.

No way in hell.

Faris, on the other hand thought Hani might be heavy so he held out his arms.

"No thanks, love. It's alright." Eira responded sweetly, calling him love intentionally.

Marking her territory? Yes.

Faris smirked at his wife's possessiveness but didn't say anything. He put a hand on her back guiding her forward and together they both walked inside, ignoring Zaynab's glares.

The atmosphere changed as soon as they entered the room. There she was, a frail woman lying on the bed and a man sitting beside her.

The man first sensed the intrusion and looked around, his eyes landed on Faris. They changed. Eira couldn't put a finger on what his emotions were at the moment, the old man's eyes had a strange flicker of affection and warmth but his body posture was still rigid.

He stood up from his place and greeted Faris in arabic, saying something along the lines of 'Son, you made us wait too long' Eira was still behind Faris as Faris met the old man in traditional arabic way.

"How are you? InshaAllah well?" Faris questioned the man in return.

"Yes, Alhamdulillah. It's her I'm worried about." The man responded.

Faris finally turned around to look at Eira. "This is my wife." He declared.

For the first time, she felt as if he shouldn't have said that. Everyone knew that she was his wife but when his dead wife's parents, to be more specific, the father looked at Eira..she felt as if the earth should swallow her up.

His eyes watered and Eira knew he must have remembered his own daughter. How he must have felt that the woman in Faris' life now wasn't his daughter, because his daughter no longer lived.

"Assalam u alaikum." Eira greeted, her voice above a whisper.

The man wasn't rude in any way, he just nodded as if returning her salam.

He gazed at Hani and his eyes stayed there for a moment.

"Would you like to hold your grandson?" Faris asked the man, who meekly nodded.

And so he took Hani from Eira arms. Hani struggled feeling the stranger holding him, kissing his head. He tried to push him away, crying a little. His arms widened towards his mother, begging her to hold him.

Eira glanced at Faris. Would it be rude if she snatched Hani? Faris gestured at her to take him, so she did not bother to give it another thought.

It was Zaynab who went to her mother, it was her that woke her up, telling her that Hani was here. It was her who said something incoherent in arabic, then pointed at Faris and Eira.

The frail old woman tried to sit up, her eyes were droopy and tired. But when they landed on Hani, she couldn't help but smile.

"Habibi." She whispered softly, her eyes teary and moist.

Eira gulped, handing Faris over to Hani. It felt like an intimate family moment and Eira felt like she was intruding. Maybe she felt that way because they spoke the language she didn't, or because they were related to Hani by blood and she was not.

In that moment, she felt like she should have someone related to her by blood, maybe a little brother or sister for Hani. But was that fair to him? She didn't know.

She saw Faris kiss the woman on her forehead, gently. He then talked to her with affection and care, just the way he would talk to his own mother.

Faris put Hani on the bed near to his grandmother, well he tried. But it was of no use. He squealed and shrieked trying to get down, trying to walk or run or do whatever instead of sitting there, near a stranger.

He hated strangers. This woman wasn't a stranger to him, and yet she was.

Faris looked at Eira for help, and she gracefully moved forward, bending down and holding Hani still.

"Hani! Go, say salam." She insisted. Hani shook his forehead.

For a baby who was almost two and a half years old, he didn't seem phased.

Eira sighed, kissing his cheek and looking at him again.

"For mumma?" She asked. And the dramatic boy sighed, as if he was about to do the hardest thing in the world.

He blew some air and with the help of his father, climbed up the bed. He sat beside the woman, kissed both her cheeks twice. Just like Eira had taught her.

Ayesha's mother broke into loud sobs, tears, cries.

But those might have been happy ones. So many tears and so many words in arabic.

He looks so much like her. He looks so much like her.

Eira didn't know how she felt about that.

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Virat and Zaynab?? who saw that one coming?? Haaaaa!

Thoughts on Eira?

Virat?

Zaynab?

Bye for now xx 💖💖