Dawar entered his home, bracing himself for the worst. His mind was filled with worries about Laraib and what might have happened at the hospital. However, as soon as he stepped inside, he was met with an unexpected sound: laughter and chatter coming from the sitting room.

Perplexed, he followed the voices. The sight that met his eyes stopped him in his tracks. Laraib was seated comfortably with Rabia and Nazish, while Asiya cradled his baby, cooing softly. "Yeh toh bilkul Dawar jaisa hai," she remarked.

(He looks just like Dawar,)

The room's warmth and joy starkly contrasted the anxiety that had gripped him moments before.

"Lo, Dawar bhi agaya," Arzoo announced as soon as she spotted him.

(Look, Dawar has also come,)

At the sound of his name, Laraib's eyes met his. For a fleeting moment, their gazes locked, and Dawar glimpsed a flicker of emotion before she looked away, her expression becoming guarded once more.

Rabia noticed Dawar's confusion and approached him with a gentle smile. "Dawar, aao, baitho," she said softly.

(Dawar, come, sit,)

Relief washed over him, yet questions lingered. Laraib was supposed to go to her parents' house. What was she doing here?

"Dawar," Rabia’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. He nodded to her, then greeted everyone and sat on the sofa next to Hayder.

"Tum log ne koi naam socha hai?" Arzoo asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

(Have you guys thought of any names?)

"Main naam batau?" Sami immediately volunteered, not waiting for a response.

(Should I suggest a name?)

"Haan bhai, chachu se pehle puchlo," Hanif Mirza chuckled.

(Yes, ask uncle first,)

In the midst of it all, Dawar stole glances at Laraib, his heart heavy with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. But for now, he pushed them aside.

"Tum chup raho, bataoge kuch ulta seedha naam," Rabia interrupted Sami before he could suggest a name, then turned to Laraib. "Laraib, tumne koi naam socha hai?"

(You stay quiet, you'll suggest some weird name,)

(Laraib, have you thought of any name?)

Laraib’s heart fluttered, Rabia's question piercing through her thoughts. She swallowed hard, her gaze nervously flitting around the room. "Um... main kuch socha nahi," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

(Um... I haven't thought of anything,)

Her mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed her life in recent months. The memories of the arguments and the tears weighed heavily on her conscience. How could they simply move on and act as though nothing had happened?

Rabia’s smile faltered for a moment, concern clouding her eyes. "Mere khayal se tumhe aram karna chahiye, thakk gayi hogi na."

(I think you should rest, you must be tired.)

"Haan, Rabia, Laraib ko kamre mein le jao," Asiya Begum suggested.

(Yes, Rabia, take Laraib to the room,)

Grateful for the escape, Laraib rose with Nazish's help, Rabia accompanying them.

"Hyra, bhabbi ke sath jao," Asiya Begum instructed, putting her arms forward for Hyra to take the baby.

(Hyra, go with your bhabhi,)

"Dadi, main?" Hyra looked surprised, unsure of what Asiya had just said.

(Me?)

"Haan, tum," Asiya Begum stared at her granddaughter.

(Yes, you,)

"Yeh toh bohot chota hai mujhse toot jayega," Hyra looked at the baby and then at her grandmother. Her words elicited laughter from everyone in the room.

(He's so small, I'll break him,)

"Laiye, ammi, main le leti hoon," Arzoo stepped forward to take the baby and left after Rabia.

(Give him to me, ammi, I'll take him,)

"Apna bachha kaise sambhalogi tum?" Asiya Begum was still glaring at Hyra.

(How will you handle your own baby?)

"Choti dadi, ussey main sambhal lunga." Before Hyra could respond, Hayder spoke up.

(I'll handle him,)

Asiya Begum turned to Hayder, her stern expression softening slightly. "Tumhe do bachhe sambhalne parhenge fir toh." She looked at Hyra from the corner of her eyes.

(Then you'll have to take care of two babies,)

Asiya Begum's remark made everyone laugh again, knowing exactly whom she was referring to. Though Hyra looked confused, she couldn't understand where the second baby came from. She looked at Kubra for help, but she shook her head.

"Excuse me," As the room filled with laughter, Dawar allowed himself a moment of solace amidst the familial chaos.

When Hayder saw Dawar leaving, he decided to follow him.

•••

Azma looked up from her book as she heard the front door open. The sound of footsteps resonated in the hallway, growing louder with each step, and soon, Sarim appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of distraction and mild frustration.

"Tum iss waqt ghar agaye?" Azma remarked, setting her book aside on the ornate coffee table.

(You came home at this time?)

Sarim offered a brief smile. "Main file bhool gaya tha, bas wahi lene aya hoon," he explained.

(I forgot a file, just came to get it.)

Azma nodded thoughtfully, her eyes scanning Sarim's face for any sign of what might be troubling him. "Chalo, agaye ho toh lunch bhi karlo." She stood up, smoothing out the creases in her dress as she moved towards the kitchen to inform the maid to serve lunch.

(Since you're here, have lunch as well.)

"Mom, nahi, bade papa wait kar rahe honge." Sarim tried to refuse, a note of urgency creeping into his voice.

(Mom, no, uncle must be waiting.)

"Bhai se main baat kar lungi. Waise mujhe tumse bhi baat karni hai." Ignoring his refusal, Azma headed to the kitchen, her steps decisive, and Sarim followed.

(I'll talk to him. By the way, I need to talk to you too.)

"Meri important meeting hai bas file lene aya tha zaroori hai..." Sarim tried to explain as they entered the brightly lit kitchen, the aroma of spices lingering in the air.

(I have an important meeting, I just came to get the file, it's important.)

"File zaroori haina? Theek hai. Noura, Sarim jis file ki baat kar raha hai woh driver ko de do office le jaye." Azma instructed Noura, who quickly nodded and left the kitchen to follow her orders.

(The file is important, right? Okay. Noura, give the file Sarim is talking about to the driver to take to the office.)

"Hua kya hai, Mom?" Sarim asked, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. Azma’s calm demeanor only heightened his sense of unease.

(What happened, mom?)

"Konsi file deni hai?" Noura returned to the kitchen to ask, her presence a brief distraction.

(Which file should I give?)

"Brown wali, side drawer pe rakhi hogi." Sarim told her, and she left again. He then turned back to Azma, who was now busily making coffee. "Mom, kya baat karni hai apko?"

(The brown one, it should be in the side drawer.)

(Mom, what do you want to talk about?)

"Kubra aur tumhare barey mein baat karni thi." Azma began, her voice softening slightly. "Main kafi din se soch rahi thi baat karu aur aaj Kubra nahi hai toh main tumse khulke baat kar sakti hoon. Kubra ke rehte theek nahi laga tumse yun akele mein baat karna bechari pata nahi kya sochti ki hum kya baat kar rahe hai."

(I wanted to talk about you and Kubra.)

(I've been thinking of talking to you for a while and today since Kubra isn't here, I can talk openly. It didn't feel right to talk to you alone with Kubra around, who knows what she might think about what we are discussing.)

"Kaisi baat?" Sarim's confusion deepened. Had Kubra said something to her?

(What kind of talk?)

"Tum dono ke beech mein kya chal raha hai?" Azma asked directly.

(What is going on between you two?)

"Kya chal raha hai?" Sarim feigned ignorance, a slight edge to his voice betraying his discomfort.

(What is going on?)

"Mujhe toh lag raha hai kuch bhi nahi chal raha,"

(It seems like nothing is going on,)

"Aur humare beech exactly chalna kya chahiye?" Sarim's tone turned defensive, his posture stiffening.

(And exactly what should be going on between us?)

"Sarim, thappar khaoge tum." Azma's voice was sharp now, a rare display of her irritation. "Jabse ayi hoon maine tumhare aur Kubra ke beech mein duri notice ki hai. Tum log ki shadi ko bas kuch mahine hue hain aur woh bhi pasand ki shadi thi, lekin tum dono ko dekhke aisa lagta hai jaise 50 saal ho gaye tumhari shadi ko..." Her words made Sarim look away, his jaw tightening. He hadn't realized Azma noticed the distance between him and Kubra. Outwardly, they seemed fine; there were no fights or disagreements that would make anyone think they weren't happy.

(Sarim, do you want a slap?)

(Since I've come, I've noticed the distance between you and Kubra. Your marriage is just a few months old and it was a love marriage, but seeing you two, it seems like you've been married for 50 years...)

"Sarim, kya hua hai batao? Koi baat hui hai?" Azma asked again, her concern evident in her softened tone.

(Sarim, tell me what happened? Did something happen?)

"Nahi, mom, aisa kuch bhi nahi. You must be overthinking." Sarim denied it, though his voice lacked conviction.

(No, mom, nothing like that.)

"I understand yeh tum dono ki problem hai, tum kisi ko involve nahi karna chahte aur mujhe bhi nahi pasand shadi shuda bete ki zindagi mein dakhal doon, lekin mujhse tumhara yeh utra hua chehra dekha nahi ja raha."

(I understand this is a problem between you two, you don't want to involve anyone and I also don't like to interfere in my married son's life, but I can't bear to see your gloomy face.)

"Tumhe toh Kubra itni pasand thi, tum itne khush the shadi se, aur ab tum dono ke beech ka distance mujhe samajh nahi araha, Sarim, mujhe batao, shayad main tumhari koi help kardu." The beep of the coffee machine diverted Azma's attention, and she began pouring the coffee, the rich aroma filling the room.

(You liked Kubra so much, you were so happy with the marriage, and now I can't understand the distance between you two. Sarim, tell me, maybe I can help.)

Sarim hesitated, the words heavy on his tongue. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and serious, "Kubra iss shadi se khush nahi."

(Kubra is not happy with this marriage.)

Azma froze, the coffee pot trembling slightly in her hand. She turned to face Sarim, her eyes wide with shock. "Kya?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Aisa Kubra ne kaha?"

(What?)

(Did Kubra say this?)

Azma's mind drifted back to the day of Kubra and Sarim's wedding. It had been a grand affair, the kind that lingers in memory not just for its opulence but for the genuine joy it radiated. Kubra had looked stunning in her traditional bridal attire, her face radiant with a blush of shyness and a smile of modesty. Her eyes had sparkled with happiness, each glance she cast towards Sarim filled with love. On that day, she hadn't appeared unhappy in the slightest; in fact, she seemed the embodiment of a young bride in love, full of dreams and hopes for the future.

But now, as Azma stood in the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she set the coffee pot down, she struggled to reconcile those memories with the reality Sarim was presenting. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?

Sarim's shoulders slumped, the weight of his admission pressing down on him. "Woh kuch bhi nahi kehti. Lekin main janta hoon woh mujhe pasand nahi karti."

(She doesn't say anything. But I know she doesn't like me.)

Azma took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She reached out and gently touched Sarim's arm, urging him to sit at the kitchen table.

"Sarim, baitho. Let's talk this through," she said softly, pulling out a chair for him. Once he sat down, Azma joined him, her eyes never leaving his face.

(Sit,)

"Agar usne aisa kuch nahi kaha, fir tumhe kaise pata woh khush nahi? Usne kuch kiya kya?" she asked, her voice filled with concern and a hint of sadness.

(If she hasn't said anything, how do you know she's unhappy? Did she do something?)

Sarim sighed deeply, running a hand over his hair. "Nahi, mom, na toh woh kuch kehti hai, na hi kuch karti hai. Bas... bas dekhti rehti hai badi badi ankhon se."

(No, mom, she neither says nor does anything. She just... just keeps looking with her big eyes.)

Azma's heart ached for her son. "Agar usne kuch kaha nahi, kuch kiya nahi, toh fir?"

(If she hasn't said or done anything, then?)

"Maine uski aur Zara ki baat suni thi," Sarim explained, his voice heavy with the weight of what he had overheard. He recounted the conversation he'd heard on the phone, every word echoing in his mind.

(I overheard her and Zara talking,)

Azma reached across the table and took Sarim's hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. "Sarim, tum bas ek half conversation ki wajah se kaise yeh keh sakte ho Kubra khush nahi."

(Sarim, how can you say Kubra is unhappy just because of a half conversation you overheard?)

Sarim looked up at his mother, his eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "Usne khud kaha hai ki uska ideal... Rafey hai, iska aur kya matlab hua?"

(She said herself that her ideal is... Rafey. What else could that mean?)

"Iska yeh matlab toh nahi hua ki woh tumhe pasand nahi karti," Azma replied gently.

(That doesn't mean she doesn't like you.)

She continued, "Sarim, larkiyan aksar apne cousin, dost, dost ke bhai ya kabhi kabhi teachers ko apna ideal bana leti hain. Lekin woh sirf ideal hote hain, jinke kuch characteristics unhe attract karte hain bas. Larkiyan agar mohabbat karti hain toh shadi ke baad apne shohar se."

(Sarim, girls often consider their cousins, friends, friends' brothers, or sometimes teachers as their ideals. But they are just ideals, with some characteristics that attract them. If girls fall in love, it is with their husbands after marriage.)

Azma's words were like a balm, soothing some of the tension Sarim felt. She sighed, squeezing his hand tighter. "Sarim, mujhe tumse aisi umeed nahi thi ki tumne ek adhi adhuri conversation, jo tumse kahi bhi na gayi, uske base pe sab decide kar liya khudse? Kam se kam Kubra se iss barey mein baat toh karte. Communication har rishte mein bohot zaroori hai, aur tumne wahi nahi kiya."

(Sarim, I didn't expect this from you. You decided everything based on a half-heard conversation that wasn't even directed at you? At least talk to Kubra about it. Communication is very important in every relationship, and you haven't done that.)

"Toh fir itne dino se hum ajnabi ki tarah reh rahe hain woh kuch kehti kyu nahi?" Sarim complained.

(We have been living like strangers for so many days, then why doesn't she say anything?)

Azma smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Sarim's forehead. "Woh larki hai, naya rishta hai, naya ghar hai. Abhi toh woh yaha ke tour tareeqe, sabko samajhne mein hi uljhi hogi, woh yeh soch rahi hogi tumhari khamoshi aur sard rawaiyya mijaz ka hissa hai ya kuch aur. Woh kya hi kahegi jab ussey kuch maloom hi nahi."

(She's a girl, it's a new relationship, a new house. She must be struggling to understand the ways here, trying to understand everyone. She might be thinking your silence and cold behavior are just part of your personality or something else. What will she say when she doesn't know anything?)

Sarim took a deep breath, as realisation dawn at him. He really hadn't asked Kubra anything, hadn't said anything. How could he expect Kubra to tell him everything on her own?

"Chalo, tumne bohot time waste kar liya apni stupidity mein. Ab Kubra se saaf baat karlo aur jo bhi misunderstanding hain unhe clear karlo."

(Alright, you've wasted enough time in your stupidity. Now talk to Kubra clearly and clear up any misunderstandings.)

•••

Hayder breaks the silence, looking earnestly at Dawar. "Mere samajh nahi araha tumhe ab aur kya chahiye? Dekho, Dawar, agar ek step bhabhi ne liya hai toh tumhe bhi ab pichla sab bhool jana chahiye."

(I don't understand what more you want now. Look, Dawar, if bhabhi has taken a step, you should also forget the past now.)

Dawar sighs deeply, leaning back against the bench, staring at the ground. "Mujhe samajh nahi araha woh yaha kyu ayi hai," he murmurs, frustration clear in his voice.

(I don't understand why she has come here,)

Hayder's expression turns incredulous. "Tumhare dimagh nahi hai kya? Shayad tum sarey bhai behen hi aise ho... Sab kuch theek karna chahti hain isliye ayi hain." His tone becomes slightly sarcastic, trying to jolt Dawar out of his stubborn mindset.

(Do you have any sense? Maybe all of you siblings are like this... She has come to make things right.)

"Theek karna chahti toh uska behaviour sabke sath behtar hota," Dawar's face tightens as he retorts, his voice rising slightly.

(If she wanted to make things right, her behavior with everyone would be better,)

"Insan dheere dheere hi behtar hota hai. Ek din mein koi bhi apni fitrat nahi badal sakta. Tumhe toh khush hona chahiye ki woh apne rishte ko sabse ahem manti hain isliye itna sab hone ke baad bhi wapas ayi hain," Hayder said gently. Dawar shakes his head, his frustration boiling over.

(People improve gradually. No one can change their nature in a day. You should be happy that she considers her relationship the most important, that's why she's come back even after everything that happened,)

"Uska behaviour jab tak sabke sath theek nahi ho jata, humare beech kuch bhi theek nahi ho sakta," he states firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

(Until her behavior with everyone improves, nothing can be right between us,)

"Ab tum ziyadti kar rahe ho. Yeh sab karke tum unhe khudse aur gharwalo se aur durr kar doge," Hayder was now frustrated. He wasn't used to repeating himself, and on top of that, Dawar didn't seem to want to understand anything.

(Now you are being unreasonable. By doing all this, you'll push her further away,)

Dawar remains silent for a moment, staring into the distance. "Ek din mein sab theek nahi ho jata na," he finally mutters,

(Everything doesn't get fixed in a day,)

Hayder took a deep breath, then looked at Dawar. "Don't ruin this, Dawar. Tumhare gussa hone se kuch theek nahi hone wala."

(Don't ruin this, Dawar. Your anger won't fix anything,)

Dawar was about to say something to Hayder but paused when muffled voices drifted from inside the house. The murmur grew clearer, making Dawar furrow his brow in confusion.

"Yeh Uswa ki awaz haina?" Dawar asked, his tone tinged with bewilderment.

(Isn't that Uswa's voice?)

"Rafey ki bhi," Hayder added, his ears perking up at the familiar sound.

(And Rafey's too,)

"Video call pe itni saaf awaz aney lagi hai," Dawar mused, settling back into his seat. Then, the two friends exchanged puzzled glances before realization struck. They bolted upright, and hurried inside.

(Voices on video calls have become so clear,)

The living room was a scene of unexpected warmth and reunion. Uswa and Rafey were not on a video call; they were physically there. Uswa sat beside Hyra, her hand clasping Hyra’s, her face animated as she spoke. Hyra’s expression radiated sheer joy, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"Assalam-Alaikum," Rafey greeted, his voice carrying over to Hayder and Dawar. Uswa's gaze followed, and upon seeing her brother, she sprang up and enveloped Dawar in a tight hug.

"Assalam-Alaikum, Bhai."

Dawar returned the embrace warmly, "Walekum-Assalam. Apne aney ka batana chahiye tha," he said, gently chiding her as he placed a hand affectionately on her shoulder.

(You should have informed us about your arrival,)

"Kaise kuch batati jab koi plan hi nahi tha kal tak? Bechare Rafey ko zabardasti leke ayi hai yeh jaise ki yeh Australia mein nahi, do gali chorh ke rehti ho." Rabia, who was making her way to the kitchen, halted at Dawar's words. She cast a disapproving glance towards Uswa, her expression stern.

(How could she inform when there was no plan until yesterday? Poor Rafey was brought here forcibly as if they live just a couple of streets away, not in Australia.)

"Woh 5 saal ke bachhe hain main unka hath pakarh ke zabardasti le aungi?" Uswa retorted, her hands akimbo, challenging her mother with a fiery gaze. Rabia huffed and continued towards the kitchen, muttering under her breath.

(He is not a 5-year-old that I'll forcibly bring by holding his hand.)

"Iss larki ka kuch nahi ho sakta,"

(Nothing can be done about this girl,)

"Mummy, aap mere piche hi parhi..." Uswa began, ready to argue further, but Dawar intervened.

(Mummy, you're always after me...)

"Uswa, buri baat..." he admonished softly.

(Uswa, that's not nice...)

Instantly, Uswa's demeanour changed. "Sorry, Dawar Bhai,"

"Rafey, Uswa, tum dono fresh ho jao, itna lamba safar karke aye ho." Hanif Mirza, who was observing them with a smile, suggested.

(Rafey, Uswa, you both freshen up, you've come after a long journey.)

Uswa beamed, her energy undiminished by the long journey. "Baba, main toh aise hi fresh ho gayi, chotu se milungi toh aur fresh ho jaungi. Chotu kaha hai?" she asked, looking around eagerly.

(Baba, I'm already fresh, I'll be even more fresh when I meet the little one. Where is he?)

Dawar pointed towards his room. "Kamre mein," he informed her.

(In the room,)

"Chalo, Hyra, chalte hain," Uswa said, grabbing Hyra’s hand and practically dragging her towards the room.

(Come on, Hyra, let's go,)

Rafey watched his wife with a fond smile before addressing the others. "Main fresh ho jata hoon," he said, picking up his suitcase and heading upstairs, the weight of the journey beginning to ease off his shoulders.

(I'll freshen up,)

"Achha surprise de diya bachho ne," Asiya Begum said, her voice warm and filled with affection. The atmosphere in the house seemed to brighten instantly with Uswa's arrival. Hanif Mirza, leaning back in his seat, nodded.

(The kids gave a nice surprise,)

•••

After Nazish left, Laraib lay down to rest for a while, hoping to catch a brief nap. However, a knock on the door interrupted her. Thinking it might be Dawar, she quickly got up and went to open the door.

"Uswa, tum? Tum kab ayi?" she asked, surprised to see Uswa and Hyra standing there.

(Uswa, you? When did you come?)

"Abhi ayi," Uswa replied, stepping forward, but Hyra gently held her back.

(Just now,)

"Bhabhi, hum disturb toh nahi kar rahe?" Hyra asked, making Uswa realize she was about to enter without waiting for permission.

(We are not disturbing you, are we?)

"Woh main chotu se milne ayi thi." Uswa explained eagerly.

(I came here to meet the little one.)

"Haan, ajao," Laraib invited them inside. "Lekin abhi woh so raha hai isliye..." She gestured towards the bed where the baby was peacefully asleep and signalled them to be quiet.

(Yes, come in,)

(He is sleeping right now so...)

"Yeh kitna pyara hai," Uswa whispered, her eyes widening as she gazed at the baby's serene face.

(He is so cute.)

"Main le loon?" Uswa asked, looking at Laraib with pleading eyes.

(Can I hold him)

Laraib hesitated for a moment, seeing the childlike excitement in Uswa's eyes, but then nodded. "Haan, lekin baithke." she instructed.

(Okay, but sit down.)

Uswa quickly sat on the edge of the bed, her hands outstretched eagerly for Laraib to place the baby in them.

As the baby settled into her lap, Uswa's eyes sparkled with joy, and a soft smile lit up her face.

"Sambhal ke, Uswa." Laraib cautioned, noticing Uswa's grip might be a bit too tight.

(Be creaful, Uswa.)

"Bhabhi, aap fikar na karein, mujhe bachho ko goud mein lene ka bohot experience hai." Uswa assured her confidently.

(Bhabhi, don't worry, I have a lot of experience holding babies,)

"Haan, iske khudke 5 bachhe haina." Hyra quipped, earning a glare from Uswa while Laraib smiled at their banter.

(Yeah, she has five kids of her own,)

"Nahi, lekin Sami ko lene ka toh hai." Uswa responded, addressing Laraib earnestly. "Pata hai, bhabhi, Sami ko toh main bohot shokh se leti thi, chotu sa tha itna pyara abhi ki tarah nahi. Lekin Hyra bohot darrti thi aur fir isne jab pehli baar Sami ko goud mein liya toh ussey gira diya. Tabhi se Sami aisa hai." She recounted everything in one breath, then turned back to gaze lovingly at her nephew, gently touching his chubby cheek.

(You know, bhabhi, I used to love holding Sami, he was so small and cute, not like now. But Hyra was very scared and the first time she held Sami, she dropped him. That's why Sami is like this now.)

"Aur tumhe kisne giraya tha?" Laraib couldn't help but ask, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

(And who dropped you?)

"Huh?" Uswa looked puzzled, and when Hyra burst into laughter, Uswa finally caught on, her confusion melting into a sheepish grin.

"Bhabhi, yeh paidaishi aisi hai." Hyra added.

(Bhabhi, she was born this way.)

"Haan tum thi na uss waqt waha isliye janti ho." Uswa glared at Hyra, her tone dripping with mock indignation.

(Yes, you were there at that time so you know.)

"Ghar ki biryani daal jaisi hi lagti hai sabko," Uswa then whispers in her nephew's ear.

(The family's biryani seems like plain rice to everyone,)

Hyra's laughter grew louder, unable to contain her amusement at Uswa's retort. Laraib bit her lip, struggling to suppress her own laughter.

Today, after so many days, Laraib found herself smiling as she watched Uswa and Hyra's playful banter. There was a childlike innocence in both of them. Laraib couldn't understand why she used to get so irritated by their antics, especially Hyra's.

When Laraib first went out with Dawar after their marriage, she had hoped for a romantic and intimate experience. Instead, Dawar spent most of the time worrying about Hyra. He kept checking his phone for updates and talked to Hayder incessantly. This puzzled Laraib; she couldn't understand why her husband was so preoccupied with his cousin.

At their walima, the situation was no different. Everyone seemed to be talking about Hyra, making Dawar even more anxious. Laraib felt like an outsider in her own celebration, unable to comprehend the depth of Dawar's concern for Hyra. It wasn't just the walima; every outing they went on, Dawar insisted on taking Sami, Uswa, and Hyra along. These small incidents gradually eroded Laraib's sense of belonging within the family.

She observed how close-knit they all were, sharing inside jokes and memories that she wasn't a part of. Despite her efforts to connect, Laraib always felt like she was on the outside looking in. The bond between Dawar and his family was impenetrable, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of being an intruder in their tight circle. This alienation made it increasingly difficult for her to feel at home, leaving her to grapple with feelings of isolation within her new family. But now, as she watched Uswa and Hyra tease each other, their faces alight with joy. It was in moments like these that she saw the genuine bond of family, and she couldn't help but wonder why she had ever let such trivial things bother her.

"Mummy," Uswa's voice broke Laraib's chain of thoughts.

"Kya hua?" Laraib asked in alarm, her eyes darting to her son in Uswa's arms.

(What happened?)

"Bhabhi, yeh..." Uswa's face was on the verge of tears as she gently lifted the baby, revealing a wet spot on her clothes. Chotu had been mischievous.

(Bhabhi, he...)

"Yeh..." Laraib was at a loss for words, while Hyra couldn't stop laughing.

(This...)

"Haso mat, Hyra!" Uswa warned, then looked at Chotu and gave him a playful threat. "Beta, tum bade ho tab tumse iska badla lungi main."

(Don't laugh, Hyra!)

(Kiddo, when you grow up, I'll get back at you for this.)

Chotu shifted a bit and then fell back asleep, oblivious to the commotion he had caused.

"Uswa, issey mujhe de do change karwa doon... tum bhi change karlo." Laraib took the baby from her and said. Uswa nodded and got up, with Hyra following her.

(Uswa, give him to me, I'll change him... you should change too.)

"Issey milne main itni durr se ayi hoon aur dekho isne kaisa welcome kiya mera..." Uswa complained to Hyra as they left the room.

(I've come so far to meet him and look how he welcomed me...)

"Uswa, yeh kya hua?" Rabia noticed the wet spot on Uswa's clothes and asked as they entered the living room.

(Uswa, what happened?)

"Chotu ne welcome kiya hai bua ka," Hyra answered for her, thoroughly enjoying the situation. Rabia and Dawar, who were sitting in the living room, laughed as well when understood what happened.

(The little one has welcomed his aunt.)

"Chalo koi baat nahi, jab tum choti thi toh tumne bhi Dawar ke bohot kapre kharab kiye hain, ab uska beta hisab barabar kar raha hai." Rabia said with a chuckle.

(No worries, when you were little, you ruined a lot of Dawar's clothes too, now his son is settling the score.)

"Main bhi itni choti thi?" Uswa asked, as if it was an unbelievable fact.

(Was I also this little?)

"Nahi, tum direct itni badi paida hui thi," Rabia replied, often exasperated by Uswa's silliness. "Achha, jao change karlo."

(No, you were born this big directly,)

(Alright, go change.)

"Haan, ja rahi hoon lekin mera saman kaha gaya?" Uswa asked as she came to the living room to get her suitcase but didn't find it.

(Yes, I'm going, but where is my stuff?)

"Woh toh Rafey le gaya na uppar," Dawar informed her.

(Rafey took it upstairs,)

"Woh uppar kyu le gaye? Mera kamra toh idhar hai," Uswa questioned.

(Why did he take it upstairs? My room is here,)

"Uswa, tumhara sasural hai uppar, zahir hai tum wahi rahogi," Rabia explained lovingly.

(Uswa, your in-laws' house is upstairs, obviously you'll stay there,)

"Lekin main toh apne mayke rukne ayi hoon na. Australia mein bhi sasural mein rahu, yaha bhi? Aisa thori chalta hai." Uswa said and started heading upstairs to talk to Rafey. The three people present looked at each other, and then Hyra shrugged and followed Uswa upstairs.

(But I've come to stay at my parent's house. I live with my in-laws in Australia too, here as well? That's not how it works.)

"Isko ab tak aqal nahi ayi?" Rabia asked Dawar, shaking her head slightly.

"Mummy, apko fikar karne ki koi zaroorat nahi, mere khayal se Rafey ussey handle kar le raha hai," Dawar replied with a smile.

(Mom, you don't need to worry, I think Rafey is handling her quite well.)

Rabia smiled at Dawar's words and then cast a deep glance at Dawar. "Jaise Rafey Uswa ko sambhal raha hai, Hayder Hyra ko, tumhara bhi farz hai Laraib ko sambhalna. Ab main tumhari taraf se koi ulti seedhi baat na sunu. Apni behno ke time tum itne protective hote ho toh uska bhi socho kisi ki beti hai. Aur sabse barhkar tumhari biwi hai, tumhara farz hai. Yeh sab pal larkiyon ke liye bohot crucial hote hain, Dawar, ab aur aisa kuch mat karna jo uski physical aur mental health pe affect kare. Khayal rakho uska."

(Just like Rafey is taking care of Uswa, Hayder cares for Hyra, it's your duty to xare for Laraib. Now I don't want to hear any nonsense from you. You are so protective of your sisters, think about her too, she's someone's daughter. And most importantly, she's your wife, it's your duty. These moments are very crucial for girls, Dawar, don't do anything that affects her physical or mental health. Take care of her.)

Dawar fell silent at Rabia's words. He didn't expect his mother to say all this to him. His thoughts stood still in the midst of reflection.

•••

Shukar Dawar aur Sarim ko unki mothers ne aqal di🐒

When I was writing this chapter, I keep thinking 'someone please name the kid, for how long I'm gonna call him chotu and baby.' Ik Ik, I'm the one who have to name him, but parents ki katti chal rahi aur aise mein baby ka naam rakhna insensitive ho jayega na 🥺

Khair, How's the chapter?

And I might not update next week anything because next wala chapter kafi lamba hoga👉🏻👈🏻

-Ufaq