"This was the last appointment, Doctor."

"Shukar Alhamdulillah!" Layeba breathed in relief, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes as her assistant, Mohsin announced the last appointment for the day.

It was Sanem's mehndi today. And what was Layeba doing at her best friend's event? Taking extra night shifts along with her daily check-ups. Not by choice, for once. Two major doctors were on leave because they were marrying each other, one doctor was on sick leave, and in the past month, four doctors had resigned. In short, she couldn't get any leave.

So here she was, in the hospital for almost twenty-eight hours, knackered as hell. And it was only four p.m. How she was supposed to attend the event and enjoy it was beyond her. Her phone rang and she checked the screen. It was her husband dearest. No, it wasn't written that way. The screen simply read Yazaan.

"Assalamualaikum", she greeted, her voice distracted because she had started making final notes and entries in her laptop for she knew she wouldn't want to do those later.

"WaAlaikumAssalam. You free? Shall I pick you up on my way?" Yazaan asked.

She remembered her car wasn't with her because Hassaan's younger brother, Ahmed required a car for running errands since his was at a mechanic. And she, as unwilling as she may be, had given her car for the day.

"Yeah. I'll be free in fifteen minutes. Thank you."

"Ok, see you."

She hung up and focused on the file on the screen, popping some M&Ms in her mouth. Before she knew it, her phone pinged with a message from Yazaan, informing her he was outside waiting for her. She saved the document and shut the laptop, calling it a day.

Shielding her eyes with a pair of sunglasses against the blazing sun, she smiled as she saw Yazaan leaning against his car in grey dress pants and black button-up shirt, two top buttons undone, his classic watch in his wrist, and a pair of black aviators obscuring the view of his beautiful eyes. His fair complexion was starting to glow golden, the heat of Lahore beginning to work its way on him.

"You know you shouldn't look this good and confident. Aap ki wajah se kitni bechari larkiyon ki niyyat kharab ho jaye gi or gunah aap ke sar aye ga phir", she said as she approached him and sat in the passenger seat.

(Because of you, many ladies will have a  change of heart and their sins will be on you.)

He rounded the car and sat in it, a frown on his forehead, though anyone could tell he was beyond happy at her words. "Was that supposed to be a compliment? If so, a simple 'you look handsome' would have sufficed."

"Where's the fun in that?" She winked at him.

"Where indeed?" He drawled, starting the car while leaned in the seat and closed her eyes. "Wow, don't you look beat!"

"I get out of my way to praise you and I get this?" She mumbled without opening her eyes.

"Both of us told the truth, doctor", his lips lifted in half a smirk.

She opened her eyes and narrowed them at him, straightening a little. "Well, sorry for not looking as fresh as a daisy after being in hospital for twenty-eight hours, dealing with multiple traumas and two code blues."

"No, you're not."

"I'm not what?" She asked, smiling, expecting some sort of clichè yet romantic reply about how she still looked beautiful and all.

"You're not sorry at all."

She grabbed her bag and threw it at his face, which he stopped with his hand and it ended up falling in his lap. He laughed and placed it at her feet. She shook her head and smiled but groaned when her phone rang.

"I swear one of these days, I'm going to break this phone", she muttered.

"I swear one of these days, I might fulfill that wish of yours."

She picked up the phone.

"Doctor Layeba! You need to come to the emergency. There's a pregnant lady with a head injury", Farhan almost yelled through the phone.

"Yazaan, turn back", she ordered and he looked at her in question, even as he took a U-turn. "I'll be there in five. Tell me about the patient."

Farhan continued informing her of the condition of the patient and she gave him the necessary instructions. The car finally stopped outside the Emergency and opened the door, cutting the call, saying the last words,

"Prepare the OT, Farhan. I'm here."

Just as she was about to go, Yazaan grabbed her hand, "Layeba?"

She looked at him and the question was as clear as the day on his face. It was her best friend's most awaited function. Would she be able to make it? Because by the looks of it, the condition of the patient was going to take time to get stable.

"I don't know, Yazaan. I don't know. Excuse on my behalf, please. Sanem would understand."

Of course, she would. And Hassaan bhai would too. She knew she'd have to listen to her Mumani's bitter words. But it wasn't the time to think about that.

"I'll call you if I can get out of here."

He nodded in understanding. "May Allah help you. Best of luck."

She smiled and then she was out.

•~•

Abeerah put on her pink choli which had copper embroidery along with beaded work, long tassels dangling in the back, and yellow leggings, and got out of the washroom with her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She was hurrying to get everything done since she knew how long it took to get ready and they had to leave in two hours.

Originally it was planned that they would get ready at Sanem's. But since the event was joint, sort of, at Hassaan's house, they decided it was better to get ready at their homes so as not to crowd the rooms, for many other cousins were staying already staying there.

She removed the towel from her hair and dried them, straightening them in the process. She proceeded over to doing her makeup, which took more than an hour since she had minimal practice in doing party makeup. But once she was finished, she was glad about her appearance.

She'd gone for a dark smoky eye with shimmery cut crease, light blush, and a soft baby pink lipstick. The heavy mascara and highlighter in the inner corner of her eyes brought out her green eyes and the gold highlighter in all the right places of her face reflected light in the best way possible, accentuating her features.

She adjusted a small gold matha tikki between her eyebrows and let her light brown hair cascade down her back in waves, a lock framing either side of her face. Then she put on her heavily worked bright yellow lehnga.

She was tying the long tassels on the left side of her lehnga when a knock sounded on the door. She finished tying them and opened the door, thinking it was Shiza. Seeing the person on the other side, her eyes widened in surprise and her lips stretched in glee.

"Ozhan!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, making him embrace her from the waist and lifting her. "I thought you said you couldn't attend today!" She mumbled, burying her face in his shoulder.

She was seeing him for the first time since their wedding. In-person, anyway. And to say they both missed being in each other's arms was an understatement. They longed for each other. Just to be in each other's presence, be it without exchanging any words or getting intimate. But they both knew that the fruit of patience was sweet. And they looked forward to getting that.

He breathed in the sweet smell of her perfume and the underlying scent that was solely Abeerah, and felt at home.

He put her down and kissed her forehead. "I would've missed your surprise, had I told you."

"Since when did you started lying?"

"A little lie never hurt anyone." He put his hands on her shoulders and took a step back, his eyes taking in her appearance and trying to fill the longing he'd felt since their nikkah a week back. "How do you get more and more beautiful every time I lay my eyes on you?"

She blushed under his gaze. "See! That's what I'm talking about! You just got more attractive with that red face of yours."

She hit his shoulder, unable to conceal her smile, making him chuckle. "Don't mock me!"

"I'm not!"

"You don't look so bad yourself." That was an understatement. He looked extremely handsome in a royal blue kurta, which had white embroidery on the collar and neckline, paired with white trousers.

"And you're late" He reminded her, looking at the time.

She gasped. "Oh my God! Yes. I will just put on my jewelry and then we can go. That reminds me, are Bhabhi and Lala here?"

"Lala's here. Bhabhi got caught in an emergency. Hopefully, she'll be here soon."

She nodded and then went to her vanity where she had already taken out all the jewelry she planned to wear. She put on her golden and pink jhumke and pinned the three-chain supports on her hair. She wore yellow and golden bangles on both her wrists, leaving her hands bare except for a small diamond ring on her ring finger.

She put on her embroidered pink khussa and grabbed her purple chiffon duppatta, setting one end on her shoulder and tucking the other end in her lehnga on the front, covering her back.

She twirled once, smiling brightly, pleased with her appearance, and announced, "I'm ready!"

"Almost", Ozhan straightened from his usual position against the wall, where he was watching her trying to hurry things up with amusement, and stood in front of her, admiring the beauty in front of him for the umpteenth time.

He put his hand in his pocket and her eyebrows rose in anticipation, knowing she was going to love whatever it was he had in store for her.

But his hand came out empty.

"First, close your eyes."

If it were any possible, her smile grew even wider, brightening his entire existence. He made her sit on the bed, her eyes shut tight, and sat on one knee on the floor. He placed her foot on his knee and tied a beautiful gold and pearl anklet on her ankle. He admired the way it looked on her fair foot. He placed her foot down and took the other, tying an identical to the first one.

"Now can I open my eyes?" She already knew what it was, did the design matter? No.

"You may." She looked at her feet, loving the feel of cold chains around her ankles. She put her feet on the floor and giggled when the anklets made a twinkling sound, though it didn't have any bells. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome." He straightened and pecked her forehead. Then ever so slowly leaned in, tilting her head to bring her to his level. He kissed her on the lips, devouring them yet his firm lips were gentle on hers.

She broke away, her eyes closed and cheeks in a red flush, unable to utter a single word.

"I love you." He didn't know what coerced him to say that. But who cared? He didn't need a reason to voice out to his lover what had become the purpose of his existence.

"I love you more." She smiled at him.

"Chalein?", she asked, standing beside him and looping her arm with his.

They left the room only to be greeted by the lady of the house looking regal as ever. Shiza had just come down the stairs, all ready wearing a beautifully golden embroidered yellow shalwar kameez, light makeup bringing out her natural beauty even more.

"Has either of you talked to Layeba or Yazaan? When are they coming?" She asked on seeing them.

"I'm here, aunty," Yazaan said, coming down the stairs as well, wearing a full black kurta pajama with no other color in sight. And he looked awfully charming in it. "But I'm afraid you'd have to be satisfied with having just your son here. Layeba got caught in an emergency. She may get late."

"Are you kidding me?" Shiza moved her hands exasperatedly. Yazaan shrugged his shoulders in response. "This woman sometimes gets too much! She needs to learn to give time to her family as well! It's such an important event for her best friend!"

No one spoke in reply for they all knew Layeba knew all of that. And if she was still not coming, then it must be a matter of life and death. And in Layeba's field, it certainly was.

"Well then, let's just all go before we get late. She'll come if she gets out of there." Shiza ushered them all out.

"Actually, I was thinking maybe you all should go. I'd like to wait for my wife. She'll need a car when she arrives," Yazaan said.

"Very well. Let's go Ozhan. Abeerah."

And they all three went, while Yazaan went back to his room and grabbed his laptop, hoping to get some work done.

•~•

The house was beautifully decorated with yellow and orange flowers. The strings of marigold cascaded down the walls from floor to ceiling, twisting around the staircase, alternating between yellow and orange. Fairylights were their partner for the night, leaving not an inch bare from their shine. Bright-colored clothes made a canopy over the roof.

Some ladies were sitting on the couches, gossiping among themselves and more were yet to come. The event was at Hassaan's house but it was not joint. The lawn was set up as the men's side and the hall was decorated for the ladies. The setup was more for Bride and her best friend than for anyone else because Layeba and Sanem wouldn't have been able to enjoy in presence of all the Na-Mahrams.

Yet neither of the two were here.

Abeerah, along with Shiza greeted the hosts and while Shiza went on with meeting all the other guests, Abeerah asked Amna, Sanem's bhabhi as to where she was.

"Upstairs, third room to the left. It's good that you're here. She refused any help, saying that she'll get ready herself. But she probably just fell asleep." Abeerah laughed and went upstairs.

She knocked on the door but received no reply, so she went inside. Everything was scattered in the room and for a woman who was yet to be married in the house, Sanem sure did make a mess. Her flower jewelry, all elements of her dress, individual bangles, shoes _ all were scattered on the edge of the bed. The vanity was hidden in the scattered makeup products.

And in the midst of it all, in the chilled room, under the warm blanket, laying on the cozy bed was Sanem, sleeping on her stomach and snoring softly.

Abeerah didn't know if she should laugh or groan in frustration for the bride was nowhere near ready. She stepped near Sanem, meaning to wake her up. She noticed Sanem's hair was wet. Good. At least she had taken a shower.

She was about to wake her up, but she thought of something. What was the proof that she lived with Sanem and Layeba for almost a year if not for her shenanigans?

She went downstairs and grabbed a plate of ubtan/haldi that was to be used for the ritual. The only problem? It was highly concentrated and was probably going to take four to five washes of soap before it took the yellow tint away.

She knew it was a bad idea, pranking her like this just before her wedding day. But to hell with it! The evil side of her brain, the one that was alive and kicking because of the courtesy of the woman she was going to prank, told her that it was one hell of an idea if executed well.

She went to the room again and very carefully, sat next to Sanem, keeping the plate in one hand. With the touch as gentle as that of a lover, she removed a strand of hair from her face, all while finding it difficult to control the vibrations that shook her body due to laughing.

"Sanem? My love?" She said softly near her ear and almost ruined everything because a laugh threatened to escape her lips as she Sanem smile in her sleep.

"Sanem", her voice sweet as honey.

Sanem hummed in her sleep and curled around herself a little more.

Then she grabbed her phone, turned up the volume to maximum, and played the National Anthem of Pakistan near her, the beginning loud horn scaring Sanem and jerking her awake.

Splash!

Abeerah fell on the floor, laughing hard, not caring that her lehnga was stained too. It was already yellow. But the shock on Sanem's barely visible face was worth everything. Before she could catch on as to what had happened, Abeerah clicked her photos with shaking hands.

Sanem turned her face, baring keeping her eyes open because of the gooey substance layered upon her lids and lashes, and glared at Abeerah. Her eyes promising the same her lips conveyed,

"You.are.dead."

"Hard to take you seriously, my tweety", Abeerah stood up from the floor and grabbed a bunch of paper towels, trying to wipe the mess.

"What the fuck? It's in my mouth", Sanem wiped her mouth, spitting in a napkin a few times to rid her of the grim taste.

It did nothing.

"I swear, Abeerah ki bachi, you're dead! You're so dead! Damn it! I'd just showered! And it's because of you, I'm gonna be late!"

"You're already late. Which bride sleeps an hour before her mehndi?" Her words were delayed because she still couldn't stop laughing.

"I was waiting for you guys. Where's that good for nothing friend of mine?" Sanem removed the blanket from her legs and stood up from the bed once she made sure the sticky substance won't make any more of the mess it already had.

"In the hospital, doing something good?" Abeerah shrugged."I don't know anything besides that there was an emergency."

She followed Sanem into the washroom, helping her wash it from her neck by wetting a washcloth. Sanem didn't speak, having been busy scrubbing her face raw with soap.

After two or three washes, when she looked like she didn't just have a bath in turmeric and knew it was good for now, she dried her face with a towel.

"You should sleep with one eye open from now on, you little - " she threatened once again and grabbed her phone, calling her best friend.

It rang once. Twice. Thrice. Then a male voice answered.

"Farhan, where's Layeba?"

"Uh. . . Doctor Sanem, Doctor Layeba is in surgery. If it's something important, i'll convey the message."

"No need. Tell me how long it'll take her?"

"As of now?" He sighed. "Maybe an hour. Maybe three. Who knows? A lot of decision-making in this one."

"What's the case?" Sanem's voice held the tint of sympathy in it. Both for her friend and the person who was going through it.

"She's a seven-month pregnant lady. Car accident. Subdural hematoma. Child's life is at risk." Farhan gave her a brief and hurried description. It was obvious from his voice that he was needed elsewhere, but he couldn't just dismiss a senior doctor.

"May Allah help you guys. Have Layeba call me when she's free."

"Okay. Allah hafiz."

She hung up the call, a sense of disappointment set in her bones. She knew there were more pressing matters that needed her best friend's attention and she also knew how hard she was working, especially that week. But they'd been waiting and planning her wedding for months now. And she didn't even know if Layeba could attend the first function.

She let out a deep sigh.

"It's just you and me now, little one. Help me get ready, please."

•~•

Yazaan got tired of waiting at home and decided to go to her hospital. Maybe she would get free soon and then she would need someone to take her home as soon as possible.

He parked the car in the hospital's parking lot and texted her, waiting for you. He went inside and asked the receptionist where Doctor Layeba was. And so here he was, waiting outside the Operation Theater, alongside a family of six. A mother with rosary beads in her hand, praying to Allah to grant her daughter's life. A father who tried to remain strong for his family, yet wasn't able to hide the sadness that threatened to crumble him. A husband who sat on the floor, rubbing his tear-stained face, blaming himself for all the pain his wife and to-be-born daughter were facing. A younger brother who refused to believe anything but the fact that his sister was going to be okay. And parents-in-law of the patient who were giving consolation to everyone, telling them to have faith in Allah and not to despair.

Yazaan wasn't related to any of them. Yet he felt his heart bleed with every sniff that escape the crying mother. He tried to imagine the grief of every family he'd ruined but he couldn't. And so he gave up trying because he knew it would end up killing him. But his respect for his wife increased by a million for she had to deal with this on a daily basis and she remained cheerful amidst all this.

The doors slid open, and his wife and another doctor came through, along with a few others. His wife's face was impassive but her eyes betrayed the grief she felt. Her eyes were fixated on the faces of the family who had rushed up to her to know of their beloved's health.

Only he noticed the way she swallowed and the way her cheek hollowed in slightly as she bit the inside of it before speaking,

"I'm sorry. Mehreen is . . . brain dead."

The mother gasped and she passed out, not being able to bear the trauma. A resident behind Layeba rushed forward to help her.

"What? W-what does that m-mean?" The brother asked.

"It means that her heart's beating. And she's breathing through a ventilator but her brain isn't responding. We can keep her like that for as long as you want but there's no treatment for it." He could see how difficult it was for her to convey that.

"You're lying! My . . . My Mehreen can't be like this! You're lying!" Anger was evident on the man's face and Yazaan stepped forward for he knew he was getting out of control. "Tell me she's okay! I swear i'll burn this place down!" He grabbed Layeba harshly by her shoulders, making her tense, "Tell me she's okay!"

Yazaan pushed the man away from his wife and placed himself between the two, making his presence known to his wife who was extremely grateful for his intervention.

The man grabbed Yazaan's shoulder and broke down, crying hysterically not caring what anyone thought of him. "Please tell me she'll be okay", he breathed out, eyes red and voice hoarse.

"I'm really sorry", Yazaan could hear the pain in his wife's voice.

"And my granddaughter? The baby?" The only person who had been able to hold his strength, the girl's father, asked.

It was at that moment that the husband thought of his child. He looked at Layeba, eyes wide, fearing another bad news.

But it was not Layeba who answered but the lady doctor beside her who answered.

"The baby is born prematurely. Due to placental abruption, we had to perform C-section. The baby is healthy but we have to keep her under observation for two weeks."

It was a ray of light in the darkness for the family, though not as bright as one would think. They didn't know whether to welcome their heir into this world or grieve for their daughter.

Paying her regards and sympathy, Layeba separated from the group, leaving it to Doctor Maryam to explain everything to the family. Yazaan followed her into her office, where she went into the washroom and changed out of her scrubs.

"You okay?" He asked when she came out.

She nodded. "I will be. What are you doing here?"

"I figured I should wait for you here." She could tell he was worried for her.

"Thank you." She was really grateful that he was here. It never got any easier to see the devastation hit a family. And she'd always needed support handling such situations.

She leaned into his side, making him support her weight and walk her to the car. The car ride went in silence except for the light music filling the air. She was half-asleep when he stopped the car outside the house.

"Hey," he said softly, opening the door on her side. "We're here." She got out, taking his hand and they went inside. "You need something?"

"A coffee sounds wonderful right now."

"I'll make one for you."

"Thanks. I'll go take a shower."

•~•

Layeba got out in a plain white kurta with yellow trousers and dried her hair. Yazaan was already in the room, waiting with a cup of coffee for her. He handed it to her and she took a sip, relishing the feel of warm, bitter taste on her tongue.

"That feels nice. Thank you."

He smiled in return, and sat on the bed, watching as she started blow-drying her hair.

"You sure you wanna go? I mean, no one would mind if you prioritize yourself for once." She raised her brows at that. "Okay, that's not at all true but most would understand. Your mum and your friend would."

"I know. But I have to go. If only to take my mind off things."

"You sure?"

"Don't ask me again. That bed seems so inviting." She moved her neck and shoulders and sighed after hearing the satisfying crack. "But I have to get ready. Now, where is my dress I asked Ammi to get out for me." She went into her walk-in closet, totally pretending that she didn't see the dark green and golden anarkali spread on the bed for her.

"I think your eyesight number went up, doctor", he called out, teasing her, already knowing she would avoid wearing this color at any cost.

She appeared in the doorway with a frown on her face. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You're not seeing things properly. Your dress is waiting for you here."

"Oh, I'm not wearing that one. I don't like it as much . . . Where did Ammi put that pink dress of mine!?" Her voice was distracted.

"Really? You sure it's not because you think that I think you bought it on purpose, wanting to please me by wearing my favorite color because you asked me my favorite color for this specific reason?"

She once again appeared in the doorway and glared at him while he kept his face innocent. "No. It isn't. I just don't feel like wearing that dress."

"Oh, I know you're not wearing that because of me. I just wanted you to know if you think that I think that, I don't. So wear this dress without wasting any time. We're already late."

"I know we're late. That's why I'm finding myself a dress. And you distracting me is not helping at all."

He sighed. Why is my wife so stubborn? He stood up and approached her in the wardrobe, where she was moving her clothes on the stand, looking for a dress.

"Why are you not wearing that?"

She was startled hearing his voice so close to her ear. "Damn it! Why do you have to walk like a ghost?" She breathed. "I told you I don't like that?" Her answer sounded like a question, even to herself.

He raised an eyebrow. "We both know that's not true. What if I tell you I want you to wear it?"

Why is he standing so close?

The proximity was clouding her senses and she thought that he had an unfair advantage here.

She gulped.

"What if I tell you to step back?"

He didn't. He put his hands on her cheeks, fingertips teasing the skin behind her ears. "You sure about that?"

Did his voice just drop an octave?

She couldn't think anything except feel the fireworks explode in her gut as his eyes held her captive and his breath fanned her face. He leaned in, making her close her eyes in . . . anticipation?

But the soft touch never came.

Instead, words flooded in her ears, his tone holding a dangerous edge in it, a promise of making true of his words in it.

"Before I decide to put that dress on you myself, hurry up." He kissed her cheek and went out.

•~•

Yazaan's breath caught as Layeba entered her father's study where he was working. Maybe he shouldn't have made her wear that for he was certain he wouldn't be alive by the end of the night.

She looked astoundingly fabulous in an emerald green anarkali frock with churidaar, thick golden border, and golden lace embellishing the daman in vertical lines. A heavily gold-embroidered jacket covered the top and sleeves were of chiffon, those too embroidered in gold tilla. The green and gold awning striped dupatta was draped on her shoulder.

Her makeup was done minimally, with black winged eyeliner, a thick coat of mascara, light blush, gold highlighter, and nude lipstick.

Her hair was wrapped in a bun, wrapped in jasmine string, its scent filling up the entire room. She was wearing golden jhumke with white dangling pearls, a small matha tikki, a set of gold and green bangles on both hands and finished her entire look with golden khussa.

"I don't think a fly in the mouth is sanitary, Khan Sahab." Trust Layeba to break his line of thought, which to be honest wasn't very sanitary either.

"Ahem." He stood up, closing his laptop. "Aren't you gonna wear your hijab?"

"No. It's a separate event. Kind of the reason for arranging it", she replied as if it was the most obvious thing. "Don't I look good without it?"

There was the difficult question women are so notorious for asking. What was he supposed to say? If he said yes, she'd say 'why, do you mean I don't look good with it?' and saying 'no' was asking for death.

"You look like a queen either way." He stepped forward, standing few steps away from her.

A smile touched her lips at his words.

"In a hijab, you look like a queen ready to conquer the world. Without it, you look like a queen ruling my heart. Which you do."

Her smiled widened in amusement, even as her cheeks reddened. "Which poet did you swallow, Khan Sahab?"

"A pretty bad one, I'm assuming." He put his hands on her cheeks for the second time. But instead of teasing her this time, he kissed her softly and slowly. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you", she breathed out, because that's the only thing she could manage with her racing heart.

•~•

"Assalam o Alaikum, wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu!"

Layeba loudly greeted everyone as she entered the hall, placing her shawl on her arm, halting all activities, and making herself the center of attention.

"Finally! The star of the night arrives!" Abeerah exclaimed, flinching as Sanem hit her on the arm.

"And what am I? A showpiece?"

Layeba wrapped an arm around her mother's shoulder from behind the sofa Shiza was sitting on and kissed her cheek, silently apologizing for having to deal with endless questions on her behalf. She then proceeded on to lower her head in front of her Nani, accepting the kind carress and prayers.

Having satisfied all the ladies with her presence, she approached her best friend who was looking beautiful in a simple yellow lehenga and choli with chiffon heavily worked gown over it, sitting on a swing adorned with flowers. Her face was bare of any makeup, except for a light tint and a soft pink lipstick. She wore big white hoops strung with white flowers in her ears, matha tikki, and bracelets made of the same flowers. Her hair fell against her back in soft waves, a half-crown of pink and white flowers adorning them.

But of course, the first thing Layeba noticed was the aftereffect of the daredevil's devilishness.

"Abeerah, where is Sanem and why is Pikachu dressed as a bride?"

"Ha ha. Ha ha", Sanem laughed without an ounce of amusement on her face. "Latecomers don't get to make fun of the bride."

"What are you? A disciplinarian now? Besides babe, hum jab aate hain party wahin se shuru hoti hai", Layeba gloated. "Congratulations, love." She hugged her friend who'd been with her through their thick and thin. She kissed her cheek and broke the hug.

(The party starts the moment we arrive!)

"You're okay, right?" Sanem asked, referring to her being sensitive after a difficult surgery.

She exhaled. "Yup. Other than the fact that I may pass out from exhaustion any minute now, I'm great."

"Good. Let's start the function."

Young and old alike, all women started singing the folk songs completely off tune while beating the drum. Speaking of drums, Layeba could hear the faint sound of the drums from outside, which was for sure not so silent. She hoped Yazaan and his brother were enjoying themselves.

Layeba and Abeerah helped Sanem out of the gown, beneath which her shirt had half-sleeves. She took off her gajre and Layeba wore them on her wrists. Amna brought a beautifully decorated tray with haldi, henna, and oil in it. Some sweets were placed on the table. And the rituals started which were fun at first but soon became torture to Sanem and more amusement to Layeba and Abeerah.

Ladies came and sat next to Sanem, passed money over her for Sadqa, put some oil in her hair, applied some mehndi on the leaf placed on her hand, rubbed some haldi on her face, fed her some sweets, and lastly, took a picture with her. This went on for about twenty more times. By the end of it all, Sanem looked like she was about to puke.

"I don't know why you're complaining. What else could be better? You are being fed all kinds of sweets." Any guesses who said that?

"Easy for you to say, sugar addict! Why don't you sit in my place?"

"Babe, that's the only aspect of my wedding that I'm grateful for. I didn't have to go through all this fuss."

Finally, she was allowed to go and wash it all off. With the help of Abeerah and Layeba, she was free of all the stickiness.

"It's gonna take forever to get rid of this pikachu'ness", Sanem groaned.

"I think Hassaan bhai wouldn't mind. He seems to like sunflowers" Layeba teased her. "I'm gonna be so rich tomorrow. Black main bechun gi tumhari saari tasweerein Bhai ko."

(I'm gonna sell all your pictures to Bhai in black.)

"Honeymoon ke liey paise rehne dijiey ga bus unke paas bhabhi", Abeerah added.

(Just leave him enough money for the honeymoon.)

"Why would I think of her benefit?"

They went back in the hall and the young girls got all set to apply mehndi on their hands. Several henna ladies were appointed by Hasaan's mother for that purpose. Two girls sat on the cushions on the floor, taking hold of each of Sanem's hands, and started covering them in intricate patterns of brown. One girl took hold of Abeerah and another came for Layeba as well but she strictly shook her head.

"I'm fine without mehndi on my hands. It's bad enough that I have to bear this horrendous smell alone. I'm gonna go take everyone's attention off you." She stood up.

"Where are you going?" Abeerah asked.

"Love? What's more important to Punjabis at a wedding than bride and groom? Food, love. Food. I, for one, am starving! I'm gonna tell servers to set the food."

•~•

"We're here, Layeba." Yazaan removed his seatbelt and looked at Layeba. But his lovely wife was sound asleep, her head turned at an awkward angle. "Hey?" He whispered so as not to startle her. "Layeba?"

Her only response was to move and nuzzle into the back of the seat. He got out and opened the door on her side. He removed her seatbelt and called her one last time before gently picking her up more so like a baby than a bride.

He started walking into the house and she stirred. Slightly opening her eyes, she realized the position she was in.

"Put me down please, Yazaan. I can walk on my own." Even as she said that, she made no attempt to get down. The house was empty except for the two of them, since Abeerah and Shiza were staying at Sanem's, and Ozhan would probably arrive soon.

"I know you can. Just like i can carry my beautiful and tired wife to her room."

"Okay, i know you got muscles and all. But don't push yourself. You just healed. You're not allowed to lift heavy objects." She made herself comfortable in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.

"You're not heavy. Surprisingly."

She looked at him in amusement. "Why surprisingly?"

He shrugged in response and started climbing up the stairs. "And you're not an object."

He entered the room, yet made no move to put her down.

"Ok, seriously. Put me down, i'm gonna go change", Layeba mumbled, burying her face more into his chest. What better lullaby there could be than the steady beating of your lover's heart beneath your ear?

"You sure you'll be able to hold yourself up?"

Why did he have to say that as a challenge? Now she'd have to prove it to him.

"Yes. I'm just tired. It's not like i've broken legs or something. And you'd be surprised how well i can hold myself up even after hours of staying awake", she said confidently.

He removed his arm from under her legs, letting them fall to the ground, giving her no chance but to increase her hold on her neck. The look on his face told her that he was annoyed at her tone.

She sighed regretfully. "Okay, i'm sorry. That was rude."

He waved his hand dismissively and started removing her watch. "It's fine. Don't sweat it."

She was thinking of making upto him but was distracted by a ping of phone. She took her phone out from the long strapped golden purse on her shoulder and opened the message. 

Patient name: Mehreen Shaheen
Age: 26
Time of death: 1:13 a.m.

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi ra'jioon", she whispered, her heart praying for the innocent soul. Her mood was irrevocably sullen now. She wouldn't be sleep well now, knowing that someone she'd tried to save wasn't in this world now. Some would say she was too emotional for a doctor. But she knew it only made her better than others. It made her human and only humans could understand other humans.

She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her temples.

"You okay?" He asked, worriedly.

"Mehreen, the emergency patient today, she's dead."

There were moments like these where Yazaan had no idea what he could say to make anyone feel better, let alone his wife who he'd gather cared more for her patients than any other doctor.

He stepped closer to her. "Is there anything i can do?"

She looked at him and nodded. She stood up and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. The warmth of his body providing the emotional and physical strength that she needed so much.

He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close and with the other, started removing the pins from her bun, relieving the pressure on her head and releasing the hair. As he moved his fingers through her silky strands, she could feel all her worries slipping away, if only for a moment.

"Thank you", her voice muffled.

"What for?" She felt his lips lightly on the top of her head. She smiled.

"Thank you for being there for me today. I wouldn't have even realized how much i needed to just escape that situation till i saw you there. And thank you for now, for holding me close. For caring for me."

He wrapped the other arm around her as well and hugged her close for a moment, then moved her back from her shoulders to look at her. He cupped her face, his thumb almost subconsciously rubbing her cheeks.

"You're my wife", he said, his voice deep with love. "I may not have taken up the role of a husband well in the start as you'd have probably wanted. But there's no doubt in my heart now that i'm completely and madly in love with you. And whenever you need me to, and even when you don't, i'll always, always, take care of you. So never again, thank me for loving you. Ever."

Were those tears glistening in her eyes? If so, she didn't know why she was crying because what she felt now, she believed was the peak of her happiness.

I love you.

Just why couldn't she bring herself to say those words out loud.

But she realized she didn't need to. For he knew exactly what she felt.

She kissed him once. Twice. And then hugged him close again, wanting to never get out of them.

That night, she slept peacefully, cocooned in her husband's arms, praying to her Rabb to never test either of them by depriving them of the warmth of their lovers.

•~•

Assalamualaikum you Lovely folks!🤍

How are you all? Yes, i'm alright now Alhamdulillah. Just was suffering from a terrible writer's block among other things. 🥴

But here's a loonnngggg chapter. At least if you read all of it, then it's about 7000+ words. But if you're anything like me, you probably just skimmed through the paragraphs. But those contained a lot of emotions, so just wanted to let you know that you might have not wanted to do that😁

As i've been saying for the past few chapters, the plot is completed. This was the second last chapter. Next one would probably be, HOPEFULLY, the last. I'll inshaAllah write an epilogue as well, but likely it would be a short one.🤞

Tell me did you enjoy the today's chapter?🙏🥺The reason i keep adding some hospital drama is probably because i watched or read some drama and my mind twisted and molded and formed an emotional scene for your favorite couple. And i don't mind writing them, cuz (call me sadistic) i believe i write grief and trauma better than happiness and love. So tell me you didn't find it boring and actually enjoyed it. 🥰

Also, i didn't re-read it cuz i would've deleted a lot of scenes, so please point out mistakes if you happen to find them💝

That's all, thank you for reading it even after this long of a wait. It means everything to me❤️❤️❤️

Please vote ⭐ comment 🖋️ share and follow.

Lots of love❤️❤️❤️
Javeria.