Check out his first lady and add it in your libraries. I'm gonna post a new chapter soon. :))

Humdard is not about romance, it's about pain and the sharing of it, the road to recovery. There won't be much cute fluffy smutty romance like humsafar. There would be mature, okay sometimes cute and fluffy but mostly pain-ish stuff.

Also, humdard is almost over. Four more chapters and that's it?! These last four are worth it though. They're painful and love filled and just ahh can't waif to share them with you guys.

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Anaaya x Hassan.

When she was a little girl, she had an obsession with grey eyes. She wanted grey eyes so bad that she would cry and whine at her mother.

Her mother would gently scold her, asking her to not be ungrateful. Then, she would make Anaaya sit on her lap and tell her how beautiful brown eyes really were.

And she would tell about the lure and power they had.

They can pull you in, they can comfort you without any panic or any fear, they reflect everything, whether it's glee or melancholy, and if you're lucky enough to see their beauty in someone else, with the same brown eyes, you would see how similar they feel, how warm and lovely and comforting, the kind of eyes that you wouldn't get tired of looking at,

They're not plain, boring, just brown eyes. They're the reflection of your soul, a reflection of you.

But she never really cared about my brown eyes, She didn't fall in love with them. Not until she saw those brown eyes on someone else.

On Hassan.

And that day, when he opened his eyes for the very first time after the accident, she finally realised how lovely those brown eyes really were. How much they meant to her.

Lost in her own world, she glanced at her husband after adjusting her knee length dress and saw him trying to wear his shirt without hissing. His body hurt, it hurt alot.

Anaaya walked towards him and Hassan looked up at her. His eyes moving to look at her from head to toe.

"Y-you look great." He said, smiling lightly.

"Thanks. I wasn't sure about the dress... I don't really wear stuff like this anymore..."

She admitted. It was true. She hadn't worn in a dress in what seemed like ages. She had been so insecure in the past few months that after Aira's birth, she had stopped wearing tightly fit clothes.

"No, no... You look amazing." Hassan told her, sensing her insecurity.

Even in his pain, he managed to see through her discomfort. Anaaya mumbled a thanks, looking at him as he tried to wear the other arm of his dress shirt.

"I'm just gonna put some makeup on, do you want me to help you with your shirt first?"

Hassan contemplated on saying no, he wanted to tell her that he could do it on his own.

That he felt better now. But the pain in his arm and back wouldn't go away and his ego wasn't so big that he would refuse her help.

"Yes, please." He mumbled.

Anaaya moved forward, putting a hand on his chest and another one to help him wear the sleeve.

She was focused on the task at hand, brows furrowed as she buttoned up his shirt. He stared at her.

He stared at the undereye bags, the intake of breath after every once in a while, the redness of her nose, Hassan knew she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world but to him, she was perfect.

She was beautiful in the way she carried herself, she was beautiful because her face felt like it was carved very carefully and she was beautiful because she had a good heart.

"Anaaya?" He took her name, she looked up at him as she'd buttoned up the last button.

"You're so beautiful. Will you marry me?" He mumbled playfully, Anaaya chuckled.

"I believe we've been married for six years now, jaan."

Hassan nodded, grinning.

"Just checking to make sure you're still mine."

"Now and always." She affirmed.

She saw him look at the time and understood the sudden worrisome drown that had adorned his face.

"You feeling better?" She questioned, putting a hand on his arm.

When she had told him about his firm mates arriving for dinner three nights ago, Hassan had asked her to give him time.

Anaaya had been forced to call them up and lie. She had murmured something along the lines of Hassan's relatives from Pakistan arrived suddenly and they'll stay in Newyork for three to four days.

Anaaya understood that Hassan needed time but at the same time, she felt embarrassed to lie like that.

"Been preparing myself for three days now." Hassan commented.

He had been pretty talkative this morning. She couldn't help but frown. His parents had wanted him to talk to them, she couldn't forget the way Uncle Shafqat's offer made him turn his head away and how Aunty Shagufta cried when he simply hugged her, not saying a word.

The only person he had spoken to was Rania, telling her that she needed to start working with Azlaan on Dad's business.

That was the only thing he had said to them before they left for Pakistan.

"Why is it that you talk to me, so much but you couldn't even say a proper goodbye to your parents?" Anaaya asked him and Hassan's demeanour shifted to discomfort.

"I feel more comfortable with you." He told her.

I feel okay talking to you because I know that you won't judge me if I make a mistake while speaking or if I can't remember something or if I have a sudden mood swing. But I know my father, he will judge that. He will think of me as a weak son and I don't want that to happen. And my mother? She will cry. I don't want to see her cry for me like that.

He wanted to say but he didn't. Anaaya sighed.

"I'm so happy that you do, Hassan. But they've been with you since the day you were born. All aunty wanted was for you to just tell her something, I can't shake off that feeling from my mind, the way she was looking at you."

He felt guilty upon listening to her words. I didn't want her to cry for me and yet she cried for me. What was the point of my silence then?

Anaaya sensed that, the sudden stress.

"Hey, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry."

The way she said it was soft and affectionate, and she was smiling at him.

He had seen the way she would apologise for every little thing that wasn't ever her fault, just so he wouldn't stress.

He was still deep in thought.

"Hassan, look at me. Please."

"I'm sorry but if you're gonna heal, you have to heal completely. Right? No more scars, not here-" She pointed towards his head.

"And not here either." And then his heart.

"I'm trying." He replied, she nodded eagerly.

"I know. And you're doing so well." She encouraged.

He really was. He would take his medicines properly, he would eat well, he would read his old cases just to refresh his memory and get him back to where he started but he didn't exert himself either.

He would even walk more now, even if it was with her help.

"I wanna walk without your help." He suddenly said.

"What?" She instantly shook her head.

"No, your body isn't healed yet, what if you fall? No." She couldn't take the risk.

"I want to." He insisted. Something about his confidence demeanour spoke to her and she sighed. Okay.

"Ten steps only."

"No, more."

"Please, only ten. And you'll have to drink milk before sleep without protest, as per the doctor's advise."

She was ready to argue then, she knew he would be saying no. He hated milk. Orange juice was his go to drink. But he nodded.

"Deal."

"Sometimes it feels like I'm Abaan in your eyes." He remarked, rolling his eyes at her.

Anaaya moved back to put on some moisturiser on her face and she turned around to look at Hassan as he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I like taking care of you." She admitted.

"You never let me do that before, you were too independent." She continued.

It was true. Hassan didn't wait around to have things served to him, he just went and did those things on his own. But it was different now.

"You were, too." He told her instead.

Anaaya laughed at the audacity.

"I tried to be but turn I had to push four babies out of my vagina and I realised fuck independency." She walked back to him

"Okay, I'm ready." He announced as Anaaya stood beside him, she had the urge to help him get up but gave her a pointed look and made her stop.

"Bismillah hi rahman nir raheem."

She recited a Quranic verse and blew it on him, the verse that she always read before starting something.

Hassan gradually stood up and remained in a standing position for a few seconds, regaining his strength before he took one step.

Anaaya took it with him. She counted as he took four more steps before stopping and standing at the same position.

She wanted him to stop but he started to walk once again, taking another three steps and stopping again.

Finally, he took another step and a huge grin spread on her face as he finally sat on the sofa without any help.

"You did it!" She exclaimed, eyes gleaming with happiness.

"I practiced, when you were changing." He told her instead.

"What?"

"You can't do that, Hassan. Promise me you won't do it again? Not without me?" She mumbled. He had to stay rational. Recovery didn't come so soon.

"Anaaya." He dismissed. She clicked her tongue.

"I can't let you hurt yourself. What if you fell?" She questioned with worry.

"But I didn't!" He raised his voice at her and she realised that she had to stay really patient.

She couldn't let him frown or stress. If wasn't good for his health.

"Okay, calm down." She whispered, holding his hand. She sat by his side, staying silent for a while.

There was a time when I would pray for him to just open his eyes for once and now he's walking without any aid. He's recovering and I need to stop being so paranoid. He's not a child. I need to stop telling him what to and what to not do

She thought to herself.

But how can I? I always fear that I'll look away and something might go wrong.

Anaaya didn't want to get swarmed by her own crazy thoughts again, instead she simply stared at him through the corner of her eye. Her finger grazing his hand.

"I'm really happy that you're getting better."

She said quietly. She saw him smile and that was all she wanted to see. His smile.

--

As she closed the door to their room downstairs, the room that Maggie used but the room that Anaaya had shifted her stuff into, for a while. Maggie slept upstairs in the children's room instead.

Taking Hassan up and down the stairs was scary and unhealthy. She hated sleeping downstairs but she had to endure, just like him.

She picked up Zayaan's action figures from the floor and placed them in the cabinet. Their guests would be arriving anytime soon.

She opened up her front camera to check her makeup, since she had done it in a hurry and pushed her hair back.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she quickly swiped across the screen, accepting her mother's face time.

"Hello? Hi mama. Kesi hain aap? (How are you?)"

Her mother was laid across the bed, her face too close to the screen but Anaaya still managed to give her mother the biggest smile.

"I'm good bachey, how's Hassan? Is he getting better?"

Anaaya nodded, sitting on the staircase as she talked to her mother.

"Yeah, he's actually recovering well."

"Are you okay?" She heard her mother enquire, Anaaya shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Dad kese hain? (How's dad?)

She heard her mother chuckle.

"Everyone's fine here, they're all cruising. It's crazy. Your chacha has bought a new cruise and now your father has gone to buy one as well."

Anaaya let out a deep sigh. If only she could lay on a cruise, drinking a margarita with Hassan laid across her side.

"Sounds like you guys are enjoying yourselves." She remarked. Her mother nodded.

"We are, but we miss our baby girl." She smiled and then pouted at her mother.

She missed her parents more. Having Hassan's parents had made her miss them more than she could imagine. She had a sudden urge to just sleep in her mother's embrace and shut everything away.

"Your baby girl has too much on her plate right now." She commented.

She could see her mom sitting up.

"I know, darling. Don't you think I can hear it in your voice? It sounds like you haven't slept for ages."

"I lie awake all night, thinking of what will happen if Hassan wakes up and falls down or something. I fear so much."

"It will get better, Anaaya. But you have to take care of yourself too."

"I know, mama. I'm trying." She was.

But it was hard.

"Listen, jaan. Your daddy wanted to talk to you about something and I thought I'd ask you first."

"Yeah?" Anaaya already dreaded the upcoming conversation. She knew what it was going to be.

"Anaaya, we've always let you make your own decisions and you've never let us down. But this time, we want you to do something for us.

"Okay..?"

Please don't ask me. Please don't ask me. I have no interest in it. No. Please.

"Your father wants you to handle his business. He says he's old now and he can't do this on his own, he wants you and Hassan to do this for him." Anaaya groaned out loud.

"Mama.."

"Why not, Naaya? I mean, what's the point of working for others when you can handle a business on your own?" Her mother argued.

How to explain this to someone who didn't work? How important it was to just go out there and do something knowing that it was all you, it wasn't gifted to you. You did it. That feeling was unexplainable.

"Mother, we already live a great life. Yes, it's busy but it's what we've built on our own. Uncle Shafqat talked to Hassan twice, asking him to come back home and handle his business."

Her mother clicked her tongue upon Anaaya's words.

"But that's different. Azlaan handles that business, Hassan doesn't wanna interfere in it, but this will just be yours and his."

"Hassan literally turned his face away when his own father talked to him, he wouldn't ever agree to this." She denied straight away.

Hassan wouldn't agree, she knew it.

She wouldn't either.

"Will you ever listen to me, Anaaya? For once in your life, listen to me." Her mother's voice was soft but she could hear the firm stance.

I don't want to listen. Not to this.

"Mama, I promise you that I'll visit you once Hassan gets healthy. But I can't listen to this, I'm really sorry."

The vulnerability in her daughter's voice changed her mind instantly. Forcing her right now or emotionally blackmailing her when she was already so drained, it wasn't right.

"It's okay baby girl, we just miss you. I can't make you choose but just think about it atleast."

Anaaya heard the bell ring and she nodded.

"I'll talk to you later, alright?" She ended the facetime, standing up and walking across the room to open the door.

--

Anaaya saw a couple of men and women standing at the door. She recognised the Asian one, Hassan had made them meet at a party.

"Hey,..Come on in!" She greeted them all as she closed the door behind and the guests stood inside.

"Jessica, right?" She greeted the tiny woman.

"Ah, yes. And you must be Anaaya."

"This is another one of our name partner Liam Henderson and they are our senior partners, Stannis, Robin and Donna." Jessica introduced the others.

Anaaya walked along with them to the living area and shook hands with everyone first.

"Right, make yourself at home please. I'm just gonna go and tell Hassan that you're here."

She announced. They nodded as she let out a shaky breath and took steps towards the bedroom.

She just prayed and hoped that Hassan wouldn't lose that one aspect of his life which brought him so much clarity.

--

Thoughts?

Dinner party from hell or a nice casual lawyers convo?

Hard to decided lol.

Leave your comments and make sure to vote!!

Bubyeee!