Longest chapter I have ever written. This is an end to humdard and I hope you guys like it.

Make sure to vote comment and tell me if you liked it!!

So many pictures in this one because I want ya'll to see it instead of imagining it lol

Add his first lady in your libraries since I would like to see you all there.

Okay, here you go!!

---------

--hassan x anaaya

3 times they said I love you and that one time they just didn't need to.

"Okay for real though, where are we going?" She grumbled as he kept on driving, he hadn't given her anytime to even fix her hair of put on makeup, or even get the kids ready.

He had just forced them to sit in the car and now they were driving in the middle of nowhere.

"Patience, darling." He said back, Anaaya sighed in exasperation.

"What more surprises do you have in store after Italy?"

Italy.

That had been one hell of a vacation.

"Italy was just..beautiful."

Hassan mumbled, remembering those days.

Stress free and happy days after one very painful year. It was a memory they both held very dear to their heart.

"And I finally got you to post a picture of us on your Instagram. That was fun." Anaaya said playfully, laughing.

"The comments were more fun." Hassan shot back and she scowled.

Clearly teenage girls found him hot and they couldn't digest the fact that he had a wife.

"Yeah, those bitches were cussing me out."

It wasn't until Hassan had taken a few turns and Anaaya was busy scrolling through her phone when she heard Abaan's voice.

"Ugh, baba where we going?" He whined, shifted in his seat over and over again.

The same impatience was followed by his other two sons, both Zayaan and Rohaan pushed and whined in their seats.

"Why don't you kids be patient and we'll be there in just a few minutes. Okay?"

She heard her husband say and then her phone almost fell from her lap as she heard her son's response.

"Okay, what the fuck."

She gasped and he frowned. He turned around just for second to look at his son and then looked back at the road.

"Abaan! Where did you learn that word from?" He questioned in utter shock.

They had always been careful about what words to use around the children so he didn't know how and where he had heard it.

She, however bit her lip knowing the answer to that.

"Mama said Hassan what the fuck." Hassan looked at Anaaya, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe she had said it in front of him.

She turned around and smiled at her oldest son.

"Baby, you can't say that again. Okay? I shouldn't have said it either. It's a bad word." She explained softly.

Abaan frowned.

"Why?" Of course, children and their curiosity filled questions. How could we expect him not to ask why.

She picked up a smoothie and gave it to him.

"It's just bad, here, have your smoothie." She tried to distract him and was grateful that he got distracted.

"Kay,"

She sighed, looking at Hassan.

"Sorry." She mumbled.

He chuckled.

"Anaaya, what the fuck." he repeated playfully and she leaned against the door of the car, her legs now on his lap.

Even though he had entwined his fingers with hers, he still acted as if he wanted to protest.

"Stop it, hey," she pressed her legs on his lap, knowing where they were actually pressing at.

"Get your legs off, they're almost-" She interrupted before he could even complete his sentence.

"I know what they're doing." She remarked, a teasing smirk on her face.

"Anaaya." He groaned, looking at her.

This time, she wholeheartedly laughed.

"There are kids in the car. Patience baby."

It wasn't just her reminder that distracted him but also his oldest son who was now telling tales about his football practice.

"Baba! You know I score chew goals yesterday."

"Two goals?" He questioned, Abaan nodded in enthusiasm.

"Yeah,"

"Well done, buddy. Seems like you're really liking football. Hmm?"

He hated football. he watched it, he knew everything about it but he still hated the game.

That did not mean he wouldn't encourage his son who clearly loved the sports.

"It's the best." Abaan grinned.

"Ugh."

"But you said you wanted to be a lawyer, Abaan?" Hassan further enquired, glancing at his wife who had a guilty expression on her face.

"Too much study baba." Abaan argued.

That was true. But law was the best kind of study

"You don't enjoy studies?"

"I do. But football is fun."

"Fine, whatever you like."

He gave up. If his son dream of becoming a damn football player, then he hoped and prayed that his dreams would come true.

Abaan went back to drinking his smoothie and Hassan handed his phone over to Anaaya.

"Here, Call mama." He told her as she quickly dialled the number.

It rang for a few times before it was finally picked up.

"Salam, mummy. How are you?" She greeted first, she could hear the shuffling over the phone as her mother in law answered her back.

"I'm good, alhamdullilah. How are you, how's everyone?"

"Everyone's great, we're in the car and Hassan wanted to talk." Anaaya informed her.

Hassan hadn't even completed his Salam when his mother started to yell at him.

"Hassan! How many times have I told you not call when you're driving?"

A million times. And Hassan knew the risks. But he was being careful. He couldn't let the fear of one accident create a phobia that would last with him forever.

"Mama, its on speaker. I'm fine." He tried to calm her down and she instantly did.

"Acha,"

"So? Tell me? What's going on there?" He interrogated.

"I told you about Rania, right?"

A family friend of Maliha had seen Rania at an event, he had liked her quite alot, to an extent where he had sent his family to ask for her hand in marriage.

Yesterday, Rania and him had gone out for dinner, to get to know each other better.

"Ofcourse, does she like him?" He questioned. His mother sighed a relief.

"She says he's very kind and that she wants to meet him again. But yes, she likes him.."

"That's great. You can set up a date for the wedding." Hassan said happily.

His sister, his youngest sister was actually going to get married. And they deserved to have a happy event after all the grief this family had suffered.

"Hassan, how can I do that without you? You have to come and meet the boy first." His mother said in return.

Hassan appreciated the fact that his mother didn't want him to feel left out, but he also couldn't just leave for Pakistan again.

"Mama, If Rania likes him, if you people like the family, then that's what should matter." He told her, Anaaya nodded at him.

"Set up a date and we can come at the wedding, meet him and all."

"Are you sure?"

Hassan mumbled a yes and took another turn. Anaaya still gazed at the area, still not understanding where he was taking her.

"Ofcourse, listen, I'll call you when I reach home. Take care."

"I will, meri jaan. You too."

Finally the phone call ended and Anaaya scrolled through his phone, seeing the several notifications that kept coming.

"You get way too many notifications. Maybe, go private." She advised him.

Why did I even recommend him to make an Instagram? This is what I get in return? Eighteen year olds calling me a hoe.

Anaaya thought, Hassan took his phone from her hand.

"It's fine, I'll log out." He put the phone away. Anaaya grumbled under her breath.

"Admit it." He stated after a while, she looked at him with a frown.

"What?"

"You're jealous." He remarked.

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that several girls comment on my pictures." Anaaya looked at him as if she was about to jump in to defend herself but he shot her a look.

"I saw you stalking the comments, don't deny it."

She frowned and then groaned out loud.

"This is what it's come to. We're discussing freaking Instagram." She ranted, Hassan was simply amused.

As childish as it sounded, he actually liked Instagram. Especially since his wife got so jealous of the female attention his account always got.

"And talking about Instagram, why won't you post my pictures with you? It's weird that you crop my face and all.." 

She hated that he cropped her face out or posted pictures where her face wasn't even visible.

"Should I also start doing that hmm?"

She asked him, Hassan laughed.

"Then how will your girlfriends know you got a handsome husband?"

"Ugh."

"I don't appreciate men ogling at my wife's pictures." She rolled her eyes.

Of course.

No matter how liberal he got, no matter how supportive, there would always be a 'I have to protect my wife, I can't let other men see her face'  part of his Pakistani genes making an appearance every now and then.

"Typical male chauvinism, haan babe? Abhi to you were all smug about girls commenting and now," Hassan hushed her down.

"Hush now, come."

Finally he stopped the car and got out, Anaaya opened the back seats, taking out Aira from the baby seat first as Hassan got the twins out.

Abaan let himself out.

Anaaya looked around the place, there were several huge houses on the street, Hassan's car was parked outside a house itself, he locked the car and Anaaya just stared at the beautiful house in front of her.

When will I get to live in a house like this here?

She thought under her breath. Last time she had talked to him about it, he had given her a lecture we're living in an apartment with stairs, Anaaya, it's manhattan. We're living in an Elite area.

Blah blah.

Still, as they walked hand in hand, with the house and its lights all switched on, a small garden with swings and a few chairs placed in the lawn, before the entrance.

The marble floors, the beautiful and calm place. It was all so much more peaceful than Manhattan's every day hustle and bustle.

"Zayu, hold your brothers hand. The floor's slippery." She guided the twins and both held each other's hands for help.

Hassan had Aira in his arms.

"Okay where are we?" Anaaya questioned him again. But Hassan just shook his head.

"Just get in."

"Are we visiting someone? Because I'm not dressed enough."

"You look fine..and no, we're not visiting someone."

Abaan rushed in the lawn, sitting on the swing.

"Hey, no playing in the lawn. Come on inside first." He called his son out.

"But baba, swings." Abaan whined.

Hassan chuckled.

"I know, buddy. Come on."

Finally, the family entered the house.

God forbid, if this is Jessica waters' place, I'll kill myself.

She thought to herself as she gazed around.

The interior of the house was focused around a large living room, serving as the main room of the lower story of the house.

Her eyes glanced at the beautiful dining table, wooden and absolutely amazing.

There was a kitchen right behind that area, as far as she could see from the living room, there were a few chairs in the kitchen too.

It looked like a dream place.

"Wow." She said in awe.

"Hassan, this house.." She was actually speechless. She couldn't get a word out of her mouth, she liked this place way too much.

And it wasn't hers to even like it.

"Do you like it?" There was so much happiness in his eyes that she could not even understand it.

"Ofcourse, I do. But why am I here?" She asked him again.

He just stared at her.

Do you still not understand?

His eyes spoke, it seemed to surreal for her to even believe it.

"Wait, what?"

He put an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head.

"Before the abortion, before the accident, that day in the kitchen..you told me 'I want a house, not an apartment. I want a garden and a porch and a big terrace, like we had in Pakistan'."

She remembered. It had been such a huge argument that she never brought the topic up again.

"Hassan, are you saying that-?"

She let out a deep breath.

"Welcome to our new home." He finally said and she gaped at him. He led her towards a window, pointing outside.

"Here's your garden, come on-" He rushed on another side and so did she.

"Here's your porch, and-" He pointed at the porch.

He went up the stairs without a care in the world, dragging her along.

"Hey, wait what about the kids-" Hassan shushed her again.

"Hold on, here's your terrace." He pointed at the terrace standing in the middle of the smaller living room upstairs. The upper story looked as magnificent as the lower story.

"This is magical. Are you fucking with me? Tell me please!"

The excitement on her face, that happiness, he loved it.

"I'm not. I bought this place a month ago and I got it set up."

They walked back downstairs and Abaan started to talk as he peeked around the house again and again.

"Baba, where are we?"

"This is your new home, baby. You like it?"

Hassan asked his oldest son, but Abaan was too busy staring at the swings from the glass windows.

"Come, I'll show you your room." Hassan dragged him to his room.

He had put so much thought in each and every room, he had tried to make sure everyone would like the interior.

For Abaan, he had even gotten a fish painted on the wall too. He had even got an aquarium set up right outside his room.

They entered his room first, Anaaya looked at the toys, the books, the fishes, everything looked so perfect.

"Baba!! That's a fish." His boy exclaimed in excitement. Hassan smiled ruffling his head.

"It's all yours. You can color, you can play, you can even dirty the walls."

He said as if he wouldn't care. He probably wouldn't.

"And for my other babies, come on Zayaan, Rohaan." The twins entered their room next.

It was far more decorated than Abaan' s.

Two beds joined from one end, a superhero toy collection and a batman mark across the wall.

"Here's your room. You like it?"

"Yes, baba. Batman!" Rohaan exclaimed.

Zayaan simply smiled. He was far too shy to say anything more.

"Oh yes, and also twin beds because why not?"

Anaaya chuckled, still not believing all the effort that he had put.

All those late night arrivals, he wasn't at work. He was here. He finally looked at Aira, kissing her chubby cheeks.

"And for my favourite girl, who is going to sleep with us till she's ten,"

"Aira's room had to be the perfect one." Hassan stated.

"I put the most effort into this one. Also the most expensive decor." He continued.

"Hassan, all of this must have cost you a fortune. This is-"

He interrupted her yet again.

Of course it had cost him alot, ofcourse it had made him think twice before buying the house, but he had spent his money to make his family happy.

That was something he actually cared about.

"It did. I spent a hell lot of it but apparently I'm richer than before now? Courtesy of abbu."

He said playfully. She knew he hadn't touched a tiny bit of his father's wealth so far.

"Still,"

"Are you happy?" He asked her, grabbing her chin.

"I'm on the seventh sky right now." She admitted.

"Good. That's all I want."

"Okay this is the room that we'll sleep in because the children's rooms are downstairs but our master bedroom is upstairs. Alright?"

He showed her a very tiny room, sort of what a guest room would look like. Anaaya thought it was Maggie's room but apparently Hassan had already gotten a room set up for the nanny.

It was right beside Abaan's room.

Finally, he walked her upstairs as the kids were still downstairs, playing with the new action figures.

"Ahhh, this house is so big. I can have parties here and we can get the family to come and live here, oh and the twins have their birthday, we can get it done in the lawn."

She rambled.

He hadn't seen her this excited since forever.

"Calm down, love. Come on,"

There was a small wooden door beside their bedroom door, Hassan opened it and led Anaaya through.

She found out that it was a walk in closet.

"Fuck! This is my closet? What the fuck?" She cussed again.

She hadn't even gotten out of her new closet trance when he dragged her to their master bedroom through a door attached to the bedroom.

Their bedroom had two entrances instead of one.

"See the room first."

The greyish pistachio colored walls and the white ceiling in the room gave it an almost peaceful effect. The heavy curtain and the huge door at a side led to their bathroom.

The interior had feminine touches to it, with a tinge of male dominance. It was spacious, her room.

They could actually sit in their room, state at the view outside and drink coffee, they could lay down on the sofas, sit by the couch, do whatever they liked.

This house seemed like a dream come true.

"Can we have sex here? Cause that's how much into you I am right now." Anaaya said to him, he pointed at Aira.

"I am literally holding our daughter."

Hassan led her outside, opening another door.

"And this is my study. But you can use it too."

The room was almost wooden, so cozy and comfy.

"I love you." She gushed.

"Ofcourse you do." He said with a smug look.

"Shut up." She murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Any more surprises husband?" She whispered, her lips close to his. He kissed her once and then held her hand, making her walk downstairs yet again.

"One more."

"Come here," He led her to the kitchen this time, and there she saw a table set up.

She could see the first best selling book, by her publishing house that was put on the table and a cake right beside it.

"What's this?"

"To my beautiful wife, who had her very first successful book published, to your very first Newyork's best seller, here's to many more."

He cut a small slice and put it in her mouth.

Anaaya couldn't help but sniffle, the tears firming quickly in her eyes.

"Hassan," She cried.

"Why are you crying?" He questioned softly, looking at her wobbling chin.

She was too happy, too stress free, too in love. It was scary but fuck, it was beautiful.

"Because I'm happy."

"I don't deserve you, you're too good." He wiped off the tears and made her stare at him.

She hadn't said that before, not ever. He promised himself that he wouldn't let her say such word ever again.

"Never think that. You took care of me and believed in me when I was on death bed, you took care of our children all alone. And you have been nothing but supportive all these years."

He reminded her, kissing her yet again.

"If I could give you everything that I had, I would." He told her, she smiled through her tears.

"I love you." She whispered again.

"I love you more."

Love was sometimes so much more than feeling, it was the romantic gestures and the little things that deserved to be celebrated.

---

Hassan couldn't quite focus on what his friend was talking about, it was something regarding the new hiring getting started soon or something but he couldn't really understand, since all of his attention was occupied by his tired wife, who he held in his arm, Anaaya was almost leaning against him completely.

"Are you feeling alright?" He murmured, eyes observing her.

She had woken up early today, since it was now three kids that she had to get ready for school.

Hassan couldn't help at all, since he had left quite early for work. Then, she had to sit in Zayaan's class just so he would stop crying.

Work was hectic as ever, she actually had to get her dress delivered to the office. Plus, the going back and forth home for lunch and staying with the kids for an hour was quite a tiring task.

They were all children, demanding her attention completely.

He could understand why she was so tired.

She smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, appreciative of his care as he kept asking if she was okay.

"Just a little tired," She said, soothing his mind, "But I'm okay."

She closed her eyes as he placed a kiss to the top of her head and she sighed.

Even though she was tired, her face radiated and shone with adoration and love for her husband.

She felt so proud of him, this whole event was simply in his honor, he was actually getting rewarded for all his hardwork. She felt like a proud wife.

"Are you sure? You don't look too excited."

"I'm so happy, so proud of you. But I'm also very tired and I miss the kids."

She replied pouting.

He laughed at her pout and turned to face her with his body before wrapping her up in a tight embrace.

"Don't have to miss the kids," He said in a whisper against her ear and she shivered under his warm breath, "We can go home."

Anaaya shook her head, pulling out of the embrace.

"No, it's an event in your honor, we can't."

"So? I'm honored already. Let's go."

She knew that she should have protested more, that as a supportive wife, she could have asked him to stay a little longer, chat with the other lawyers but the tiredness was truly catching up with her.

So she just walked by his side.

"Hey, Hassan?" She said as they reached near the car. He turned to look at her droopy eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you, more."

Love wasn't just being a feeling, it was showing affection and being comfortable in each other's arms, without caring about anyone in the world.

--

If it wasn't for the all white theme, she would have worn black to hide all ghat nervousness. Sitting amonst the row of ten other women, all of them successful in this field, much older than her and much more experienced, and yet she was privileged enough to sit with them.

Being at this event was honorable enough but getting an actual speech from the magazine's owner and getting a recognition award from Diaz, even though she was a brown Pakistani woman, it was surreal.

As the applause ended, the man stated to speak again.

"It has been more than five years since she started to work for us and yet, we don't know what she is like when she's not working. She has made this company very proud, she has made me very proud-"

Anaaya almost wanted to run away, it was too overwhelming.

"and tonight, I would like to call someone on stage, someone who can shed light on who Anaaya really is, why she is so passionate about her work and how committed she is."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"Please welcome, Mr Hassan Ali Khan, someone who, himself has highly excelled in Corporate law and fighting for equal rights. He might be all of that there, but today, he's only here as Anaaya's husband."

She sat there in utter shock as Hassan walked on stage in a white suit, his eyes focused on her as he nodded and then started to talk.

"Hello everybody. I, nobody really likes long speeches and I'm not very good at giving them outside court."

He joked and some of the people sitting in the audience chuckled.

"But, what I can say is this, 'She's my umbrella in a rain, she's my medicine in pain and she's a gift from God. Ever since I have known her, she has been passionate for her work, she wanted to achieve that fame, that level."

The smile on her face was so huge and her eyes shone so hard that Hassan had to stop and stare at her before speaking again.

"She's hot headed, yes, she's very sassy and she might be slightly arrogant too. But I know for sure that I have not met a person as kind, as compassionate and as intellectual as her."

Him not only acknowledging but appreciating her in front of everyone, it was beautiful.

"She has never left my side, I have seen her sitting with two crying kids in her lap, burning in high fever and still working like nothing's wrong."

"She has told me a million times how proud she is of being my wife but I don't think I've ever told her how proud I am,"

She felt like her heart would burst out of happiness and bliss.

How did she get so lucky?

"Anaaya, I'm proud to call myself your husband, your partner, your friend."

He finally smiled at her one last time.

"Congratulations, darling. I love you." He declared as the audience clapped and Hassan got off the stage.

"I love you more." He could hear her yell back even from backstage.

Love wasn't just feeling, it was the appreciation and acknowledgement of your partner for who they are and who they have become.

--

"Where are you going?" He questioned as she rushed outside from the dressing room in an instant.

He couldn't even stare at her before she was near the door, looking like a mad woman.

"Okay, Rania's shoot is done so I have to go pick her up, Abaan's sherwani is not fitted well so I have to give it to the tailor and aunty needs someone to do her makeup and the parlor aunty already left." She said in a hurry as she quickly put on her heels and Hassan looked at her.

She looked so breath taking in her lehnga, a backless piece that she did not want to buy, she didn't want anyone to gossip about her boldness or her being too modern, too shameless.

Hassan, however forced her to buy it.

Now he couldn't even stare at her properly.

"Anaaya, calm." He hushed her down as she called Rania over the phone.

The house was decorated like a bride and music could still be heard from downstairs, they had to reach the marquee in an hour since it was mehndi event tonight.

"Will you change Aira for me? She won't let anyone else touch her."

Anaaya asked as she glanced at Aira and took out her clothes, a tiny version of the same lehnga that Anaaya was wearing.

Hassan was in a plum kurta with an ajrak around his neck, his cologne engulfing the entire room in its scent.

Anaaya threw Aira's clothes on the bed and then took out her shoes, as she heard Hiba call her out from downstairs.

She frowned.

There was so much to do. Anaaya rushed towards the door when he grabbed her hand.

"Hey, look at me. Good." She stared at him.

"Now let me just stare at my beautiful wife."

Her hair jewellery or as Anaaya called it, a jhoomar it looked gorgeous on her. Her hairstyle complimenting her face and her makeup looked like she had actually gotten ready from a parlour.

Even though she hadn't.

She had no time.

"Now is not the time to flatter me, babe." Anaaya replied, chuckling.

"You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day." She raised her eyes at his compliment.

"You told me you thought I looked different, not beautiful. Different."

Hassan laughed.

"I changed my mind, you're the most beautiful woman in my life."

She actually blushed. She hadn't blushed in a very long time.

Aira whined in her father's arms. At one and a half years old, she was always ready to be let down and play.

But it wasn't safe to do so in a wedding house.

"And you're the most beautiful girl in my life." He kissed the top of his daughter's head.

Anaaya smiled adoringly at both of them.

"I love you." He whispered to his wife.

"I love you more,"

Love wasn't just a feeling. It was telling your partner that they are absolutely breath taking, beautiful, compassionate..that they make your house, a home.

----

The longer he yelled, the stronger the pain in her head got, she sighed, closing her eyes in hope to calm herself down, just to the pain would go away.

But it didn't work and Hassan didn't stop shouting.

He stood in the kitchen, pouring himself some tea and yelling at her while she leaned against the cabinet, arms crossed over her chest.

"You're just so exhausting sometimes, Anaaya! You come home, talking shit about your work and how busy you are, that I'm somehow supposed to care about that. I told you I can't pick him up today, repeatedly. But fuck no! When will Anaaya listen?"

They hadn't fought in a very long time and she actually had no courage today. Work had been a mess today, she didn't need him to yell at her.

Abaan's football practice place was close to his office anyway.

"Hassan," She tried to stop him but he kept yelling in the middle of the night.

"No! I told you several fucking times that this client is important Anaaya! I lost a client that could make millions for the firm. Do you know what that means? How the fuck would you?"

She was actually worried that the kids would wake up.

"For Gods sake, Hassan-"

"No!" He practically screamed the word,

"For once I'm the one speaking."

She wanted to roll her eyes. They both got equal say in everything, infact most of the times he made decisions that she was okay with.

"You shut up and listen!" As he spoke in that vicious tone, his anger taking out the worst in him, she started to cry.

"Oh great, now you're crying. How wonderful."

Hearing him use sarcasm with such a bitterness made her look away.

She felt so disappointed in him as she stared at him and then looked away again.

"Hassan, stop it." She whispered, her heart aching.

"And then that fucking look in your eyes! Like I disappointed you, that I'm not a good enough father, that I'm not doing my responsibility well just because I said I can't-"

He was in the middle of his shouting when Abaan appeared from behind him.

"Baba? Why you yelling?" He asked griggily and Hassan's eyes widened.

Finally you fucking moron! Come back to your senses.

Anaaya thought bitterly as she quietly took steps back, planning to just go into her room.

Hassan closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing himself.

"Hey buddy, I thought you were asleep."

"No, I-why you shouting?"

"Hey, mama and I were just arguing. It's okay, go to sleep. Alright?" Hassan coaxed him but as he looked around, his wife wasn't even there.

"Fine, no yelling. Okay?" Abaan held out his fingers so his father could promise him.

Hassan ruffled his son's hair, nodding.

"Okay.."

Her crying increased as she pulled the comforter over her body.

A few minutes passed by and finally she felt someone by her side.

He tucked his face into her and tried to hold her.

"Get off me!" She yelled.

"No." He spoke quietly, so different than how he had earlier, as if he had finally realised how much of a jerk he had been downstairs.

"I'm sorry, Anaaya. So, sorry." He apologised.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. I didn't mean what I said, Naaya. None of it."

He promised but she was too hurt and too angry to believe him.

"I don't care."

"I was so angry at everything and I took it all out on you. I'm sorry, I really am."

"You just shouted like it was all my fault! It wasn't. I also told you that I was busy. I'm sorry you lost a client but it is not my fault."

She sat up and he stared at her face, almost cussing himself for making her cry like that.

"I haven't seen you so angry, Hassan. Never. Not at me, not like that."

Hassan inhaled a deep breath.

"What can I say to make it all better?"

"Nothing, nothing you say right now is going to make me feel better."

She laid down on the bed again, pulling the comforter over her.

Hassan sighed.

"Okay, I can sleep with Abaan today, I'm sorry, Anaaya. I'll give you your space."

"Okay."

She watched him slip off the bed and walk to the door.

She heard his footsteps as he walked back downstairs and she cried some more.

Finally, when she felt better, she stood up and walked downstairs.

She made herself some tea and got comfortable on the sofa.

She flicked through the channels at three a.m, trying to make herself feel better.

But she knew what would actually do that.

So she walked to Abaan's room and entered it, she saw him lying there, eyes wide open.

"Hey," She whispered.

"Hi." He smiled at her, motioning for her to come and lay down.

She did.

"Couldn't sleep?" She shook her head.

"No. You?"

"No."

"Okay," She shuffled against him as he pulled her close to him.

"Comfortable?" He questioned as she settled herself, her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologised again.

This time, she was ready to accept his apology.

"Yeah, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Thank you."

A few moments later, Hassan kissed her head and she turned up to look at him.

"Anaaya..I-"

His eyes spoke all that he needed to say.

She understood.

"I know,"

Love isn't just a feeling. It's making up after an argument and not feeling the need to tell each other I love you's because no matter how much you fight, you know you'll always love each other.

You can love a person enough to give up your life for them.

But you can also love a person enough to simply live your entire life with them.

Humsafar ho ya humdard, Jab tak muhabbat hai, tak tak sab kuch hai.

---

Finally an ending to this story!!

I'm so overwhelmed.

It's really long but I hope you all liked it.

Thank you for reading.

See you in his first lady.

Love, maryam.