So, here is the SURPRISE; The Last Chapter!

Chapter 23

Completing her prayer, Khushi undrapes the shawl to treat her soaking hair. She came back from university almost on time due to sudden heavy rain and high traffic at Friday prayer time. She hurriedly took shower and clipped the dripping tendrils back to prevent intrusion during prayer. Grabbing the already plugged blow dryer, she first dries all the hair and then putting the round brush under tips, she gives them a beautiful curl. She loves this simple yet bomb hairstyle on her. Even her Arnav likes it...

Arnav...

She observes her own reflection in mirror. Despite accepting his apology by heart, she has not yet made any advances to him. Her self-respect aspired to hear the clarification of ego-free espousal relation to cure of her wounded, restless heart. Though there will be a perpetual stain over her self-respect but she can manage to cope up with his alcoholic side. Since that night of apology, she plants a lingering kiss on his forehead while he is cherishing a sound sleep. She required time and courage to take a concrete decision. Even her dear elder sister Aakifah noticed her tension. Though she did not utter a word but hugged her bone-tight when she returned yesterday after winding up one of the most sizzling honeymoons.

"Let bygones be bygones. Look at you. You look... crushed." Aakifah had blurted her observation and advised her to tend herself as a newly wedded.

"Love and marriage are different relations. You deserve time to adjust into it." To be honest, Aakifah died million times spotting the wrought face of her beloved sister. To help her, she not only styled her hair but also prepared her notes. Her all jealousy has thinned out as now love resides in her heart. This bonding of affection passed on relief to the elders of both families who were tensed noticing the strained hearts between sisters, especially Sameer Hamdani.

"Khushi –" Aakifah halts in her tracks to praise her sister. "Now, you look lovely." She boosts her morale up. "Lunch's ready. Come quick with your macho husband." She teases Arnav who devalued his office to pick his wife from university and later Grandmother strictly forbade him to drive back to office in dangerous weather. Luck! He merrily joined elders for Friday prayer at nearby masjid.

"Bhabhi..." Arnav acknowledges the tease while explaining the alternatives of his absence to assistant on phone.

Aakifah giggles before leaving out. "Would you be free tonight?" Arnav asks, anticipating a dedicated time with her. He is displeased about the delay but she picks the oblivion impression from his suggestion. It emphatically pricks her. Tomorrow will be her last exam of graduation. Can he not wait till then? She is not the one to keep grudges for long but first she and now her career has gone insignificant for him. Humiliating!

"We should join others on lunch." She curtly recommends and he nods, trailing behind her.

It irks her more and she rolls eyes to curb harsh words. Despite their differences, she would refrain from disrespecting him. So what if he staggered from his pledges, she would never trail his footsteps in love. She had vowed herself to pay him highest esteem and she will stand true to her words.

She stops to wait for him and when finally, he halts beside her, she effortlessly slips arm in his. Then they pass by the corridor meeting steps with steps. Spouses should face everything together in the journey of life. Neither should be ridiculed whole life for one mistake.

He scrutinizes her face while enjoying the warmth after ages and he smirks finding only confidence and contentment oozing out of her posture.

He goofily smiles.

So, finally, caramel is softening.

She peeks at his face to inspect response to her touch and seeing his smirk, she does not only lose control but also fibs to escalate her ego, "Dadi Jaan is dismayed at my somber face. I am doing this for her." He had merited several notions of selfless love confession but guess he never deserved them. She has compromised with her little broken heart to live loveless marital relationship with him. Not everyone in this world get to live in the desired palace. After all, alike reckless girls, she also considered Arnav as an exclusive lover whereas he is also a man, slave of corpulent manly ego.

That darn ego which devastate myriad of relations and does not care to blench...

***

The sky is still under the grip of night, getting slightly bluer at the faint sun rays in early morning. The drizzling and pelting is periodically pouring down the sky at the pleasing wrap-up of chilly winters.

Moib passes a greeting notion to watchman who is sipping green tea inside his security point. "You are visiting after a long time, sir." Sarmad forwards hand for a manly greet which he acknowledges. He is fatigued after driving all the way from Islamabad to Peshawar with a rather eager heart. He dreads driving and thus rarely visits his in-laws despite the pleasant landscape. They are not Pashtoons but who can resist a luxurious residence allotted to a brave general colonel. His in-laws have deep roots in armed forces.

"Work keeps busy." He motions his shoulders responsively and passes by the corridor aligned by huge trees, enchanting sight of flowers and trimmed grass.

"Welcome, son!" His mother-in-law, Raffia Jamal, welcomes him, hiding her set of complaints. The sorrows of daughters guzzle down the contentment of parents but their outburst rather letting the couple sort out privately can be more ravaging.

"Assalam O Alaikum, Auntie." Moib bends to receive love on head.

"Walaikum Assalam. Live long and healthy." She replies his awful behavior with the affection. It certainly mounts his regret.

"Where is uncle and everyone else?" He cordially asks, striding to living room. His eyes are longing to have the beautiful sight of his wife.

"Your uncle is at duty. Omar is on his PMA training. Last few months and then I will see that pride uniform on his well grown figure. Well, about Tehmina... she is at her some university gathering." She briefs him the whereabouts of family while motioning him to take a seat.

"Good. May Allah blesses Umar with success. He deserves to follow his valiant father." Moib replies still searching his wife. Cliché, but she guesses his presence around her.

He gets a flashback of her tear-drenched face while she was leaving their home. Poor she could not help her sobs and he was too fumbled to utter anything. "Samna..." He directly asks, fostering his right. Now, he will bare his regret and make her glow with happiness inside out again.

"She is quiet. Take meals and secludes herself in room." Raffia describes the heartrending situation of her beloved daughter. She wants to leash out at Moib for his ignored behavior. But she cannot offend her son-in-law, can she? They might be on odds for now but she knows Samna loves this man to bits. "Beta, don't mind me. She's in second trimester. Women usually have mood swings during the whole pregnancy tenure and you know she has always been moody." Unable to limit herself, she plays cupid to solve a fight between a couple by claiming the pregnancy tenure as perpetrator. Surely, in 99 percent cases, women are termed outspoken and impotent to sustain household, and husbands get a smooth escape.

"I know. Allah has finally blessed us and she's rightful at her place. If not me, whom she'll bless with her tempers and love. You don't worry." He humbly talks about his wife, erasing out the muddled thoughts.

The clock buzzes nine of morning, reminding Raffia to enquire her son-in-law about food. "Have you taken breakfast?" Her demand was her daughter's respect and this man happens to do it a lot.

"Nope. The last meal was the yesterday's breakfast. I'm not fond of maid's cooking." He illuminates his daily routine of consuming finger-licking meals prepared by dutiful wife.

Raffia titters, admiring the love bond. "For now, bear your mother-in-law's meal. Till I prepare, go meet your wife." She leaves a vexed Moib behind. Though, he is highly ashamed of his behavior but his wife's mood swings cannot be taken lowly.

Howsoever, an apology has to be made.

He tugs the lapels of his coat, manning up. Then, he turns the knob and discreetly enters inside.

She is pacing on rug with hands slipped inside fur sweater.

"Hello, babes." He frankly greets, engulfing her in the web of his arms, right against his chest. The sudden connection jolts her but she melts in the surprise greet, taking notes of his heartbeat. She grips his coat tighter and her heart swells in elation of amalgamation. She really is helpless against her own love and he have to respect her emotions.

Scrunching nose, she pushes him with terrific force. Imbalanced, he crashes on bed and she furiously glares at him.

"Whoa! Someone is feisty! Phew!" He teases and she threateningly narrows eyes at him. She has been shedding tears from days and he only cared to show his guilty face now. She expected him to come earlier.

"Samna, my love, calm down. Our boy would be born short tempered." He teases once again and she throws daggers at him. So now he's concerned about the baby he couldn't care to stay sober for. She was alone on one of the most cherishing moments in first pregnancy. The gynecologist was vexed at her continuous stream of tears and she had to made an excuse of his urgent business trip.

The recall of the time where she took an essential life-changing decision hefts her heart. She tucks her thumb below curled fingers and rams a fist in his stomach.

"Ow, woman!" He groans in pain. She has power in punches taught by father in self-defense techniques. unlike cheesy love stories where hero saves heroine and love booms, their was different; he had fallen for her luadable vigor to safeguard herself. Rather leading a life under fragility stamp, girls must become skilled to protect themselves in this animalistic society.

He seizes her left hand, giving it a gentle squeeze but his smirk piques her again and she rams a fist over his heart. His heartbeats get perilously disturbed and breaths mess up. He gags trying to control coughing and wiping dripping saliva at the same time. "I'm your husband for God's sake."

"So?" She crosses arms against her chest and he sighs to know her anger has finally subsided after blessing him with power-packed punches.

"Shouldn't you behave chivalrous with husband?" He stresses with parched throat, advocating his right and she again marches at him with a fist. He dodges her this time, pulling her underneath him. She pants hard for a minute and then shyness creeps her cheeks. "Wallah! The way you still shy flutters my heart." He mimics a feminine tone and she smacks him on bicep.

"No, I am not blushing." She snubs, sobering up. Scolding the idiot heart to behave, she pushes him away.

"Samna, meri Jaan." He puts a finger under her chin, securing attention. This woman has his heart and no human can survive with only mind. It most often wanders off.

Tears stream down her eyes, accompanied with sobs and hiccups. The damned love! "Jaan tou meri nikali hui hai tum ne, Moib." She retorts, throttling on her words. Why husbands think wives take disregard easy? It burns them beyond soul. Nonetheless, they forgive each mistake with a fresher smile and still get labelled brainless. They, for sure, are fatuous to love the blemished husband in truest sense. Four marriages are allowed to them, but isn't faithfulness liable?

He draws her closer, guiding her to rest against his chest. He can be a drunk and flirt but her tears, her pain... they make him powerless. Damn, she had been secreting disapproval to his club routines.

"Why you pretended this long?" He puts forwards his first question. They are together from years and she mildly repudiated his club visit only a few times. Not for once, she went stern enough to leave him.

The reason is simple and clear; she neither wanted to be an option or choice.

She must be his need.

"I thought you will understand me." She utters, sitting up on bed.

"Yes. Now, I do." He seizes her hands, hinting her about his decision. Her brows curve in puzzlement and he chuckles at her pretty face. "I need you more than any club, any damn alcohol." He confesses with redden eyes, confronting the pain of their distance and his repentance.

She cups his cheeks and runs finger on the outline of his eyes and tears dribble down, heaving his heart. As anticipated, his dazzling wife is helping him to diminish his remorse in tears rather judging with 'men don't weep'.

He pulls her into a bear hug. She also tightens her weak hold over his shoulder blades, sobering up but out of a sudden snivels, upsetting him.

"Hush, tears are not good for your health." He warns her with the naughty hand slipping to her brazier line. He needs to have his carefree wife back.

"You are impossible." She jerks him away and he bursts into peels of laughter at her beetroot cheeks.

She grasps his coat cuff, playing with it. Whoa! Is she being nervous? They have spent innumerous nights together and the baby – nourishing inside her womb – is the proof. He smacks his lips, amused at her wifely self.

He steps closer, leaning to express some love. Howsoever, his mother-in-law intrudes his chance of kissing her, announcing about his favorite Mughlai multi-layered egg parathas. He is famished!

***

"Very pleased to know about it." Arnav says in a fluty tone, being elated for his champ. He has always wished him bunch of delights.

"You spill about your situation?" After notifying about his granted forgiveness, Moib enquires about Arnav's condition whose hollow voice and sullen face has already leaked him everything. Does not he deserve a shoulder to lament his emotional mess?

"No updates." Arnav shares his woeful side in two words and Moib slips in deep thinking.

"Why? I told Samna about giving up club visits and alcohol and she thawed in ecstasy." Moib tries to join links, drawing out a plan to suggest. His life is back on track, now he has to be the support-house for his friend. "Logically, there lies no point of wrought mood when the demands have been considerably dealt." He wonders what must be lacking in his friend's attempts to fail him, oblivious of the fact that he has already located him the glitch.

I least desire your apology.

She desires more things and surely the strong woman like her can decide to leave him if it costs ample of self-respect.

"We will travel to home tomorrow. You better get on right tracks with Bhabhi. I've already invited Aqeeb Bhai for dinner on Tuesday. You will also join us with your wife radiating in your love." He notifies, snapping Arnav out of perplexed mind.

"Moib, you were right. The dearth was in my attempts." He mutters and Moib counsels him to buckle up. Surely, mistakes are not forgiven on baseless sorry if your intention is to repeat them over and again.

"Do not trash time, rectify your wooing ways and earn the peace only a wife's smile can provide. Trust me she would not be able to give exam in tension." Giving the genuine advice, Moib disconnects the video call and looks back to his wife offering prayer. She is punctually following a routine of five times prayer and one-quarter of Quran's chapter with explanation along several supplications to have its influence on baby.

Such wives are rare to get. Moib thinks as he spends a stretch in admiring his wife while laying on bed.

Arnav collapses on sofa, jerking away the earplugs. Moib is an incredible bastard who would die but not stray from his words. He has made a huge sacrifice for a happy married life. Bravo! He turns to see Khushi tucked well in the coverlet and cramming crisp notes. She is studying less and sleeping more these days. His burning stare alerts her and she looks up, shocking him to the core as his soul, on its own accord, devise a determination.

Certainly, he is ought to be called brainless for choosing alcohol that night.

Yes! He can leave anything but her.

He trudges to bed and seizes her hand, startling her. They both stare at each other, arousing the restrained devotion.

"I promise to not touch alcohol. Clubs fall out of limits." He sniffles his sacrifice and eagerness, clouding her stiff heart with love. She hiccups at the earnest words, coming straight from his heart rather mouth or brain. "Your smile weighs over and above my ego." He adds in his declaration and she flings her notes aside to engulf him in a hug, snaking arms around his torso. He gasps feeling thousands of emotions ruling his senses at the mere hug. A longed connection! Her patience is overflown with his confession. A week was enough to sublease heart to pitilessness. Not anymore!

He rests one hand on her nape and other on her upper back. She blubbers her heart out, getting him back. To support her, he slightly bends his head and lingers kiss on her head for as long as her knees retain the position.

She raises her head from his stomach and he kisses her still brimmed eyes, drawing tears on his lips. "Hush..." He holds her by shoulders, believing her to be his, again. He has terribly missed holding her like his possession.

"I am sorry." He again beseeches and Khushi cups his fallen face, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Your high head is my proud." She expresses. His confidence, courage and bulging muscles are her proud and dare she disgrace her own crown. Earnestly, she places a kiss on his heart and he pulls her into a bone-crashing hug.

"I damn missed you." He vents out, wrapping arms around her waist and bangs on bed with her over him. "...Dear wife." The pleasure oozes out of his caramel endearment.

She lifts her eyes and lingers kisses on his both eyes, skidding towards his jaws, coming to halt on lips. Taking in the blessing sight, she brushes her lips against him.

"I missed you, too but you were extremely barbarous that night." She complains as a friend. Now as their misunderstanding has been solved, she wants to earn answers from her trust-source.

"I know. I promise to keep my sacrifice up." He caresses her hair and she hoists up, leveling palms against his chest.

"Sacrifice?" She gives him you-are-unbelievable expression.

"Yea?" He is confused. Hasn't he just sacrificed his free life for the sake of love and marriage? He must be appreciated otherwise habitual drinkers take years to ditch alcohol. "What? Is it about trust?"

She had decided for a compromised life but this changed proposition has twinkled her desires. She is puzzled to give him every bit of her forgiveness. She died millions of times that cursed night and miserably lived past week. She would want assurance of never being treated in such manner.

"I ain't mean that." She tries to smoothen the discussion, disregarding to indulge in another fight.

"Huh..." He sits up, boring straight to her soul. Now when he has finally murdered his ego for her, he needs to make sure his sacrifice does not debris.

"Let's make a bet. If I ever disregard you onwards, you will have the right to string me up." He suggests and she chuckles, imagining him strapped to bed.

Animals should really be held secure. She regrets to call him animal in mind and pats her heart to forgive him with every bit.

The smug smirk intrigues Arnav. He dangerously verges upon her thirsty lips and upgrades the bet. "If I ever disregard you, you will be free to pull me in bed and sex-tease me." Her lips quiver anticipating a night of love with him. She opens her mouth to pull him in a kiss but cloud thunders, jittering her.

Noting the drizzle, he almost drags her to terrace and enjoy seeing wee dribbles turning into mild pouring. As a few drops sprinkle on her face, she snuggles more into his shoulder, loving his tightening hold around her shoulder. They both admire the ecstatic view in absolute silence.

"Do you remember what you once asked me about rain?" He breaks silence at the recall of her silly postulation.

"It rains when Allah opens a tap hidden behind the sky."

"Yep." She titters, letting his peaceful eyes admire her.

"I have a better proposition." She hints about bet and he bows ear to her lips for a sensual conversation. Nonetheless, she blows him off. After all, she needs to stand strong for herself and not let rain murder sanity. "If you disregard me onwards, you will take me to Hamdani House, affirm that you are incapable to husband me and divorce me in front of my parents. Next, we will be strangers."

He heaves, going white in face. He cannot decipher she uttered foul after almost forgiving him. They were about to make love, filling in for previous days and then Divorce...

No, she must mean something else.

"Khushi..." He roughly wobbles her. "Are you sane?" He hopes to find error in his audibility.

"Divorce and we? Do you even slightly care about my devotion? Dammit, I love you." He yells, wobbling her stiff body. She is herself in trauma of said words. She had to accumulate terrible courage and now her very soul is in dread of bet.

A faint smile touches the corner of her lip and she smirks, staring at him.

"Is it a time to smirk?" He bellows, loosing complete control. "Dammit, you just disgraced our Nikaah." He jumped to the sensitivity etched to the bet.

He falls in the web of contemplation. Her demand cannot be termed idiotic as she holds every right to order him. He has been blessed with more power to protect woman, not to make her double think the existence of Creator.

"Should I consider bet off?" She teasingly asks, getting crushed inside. The direction of rain changes, drenching them. She waddles back into the room and he follows her.

"The bet is on." He announces his acceptance and she nods being impressed.

"I kind of admired your explosion on the latter part of bet." He utterly ignored the portion where he would have to announce his impotency to keep a wife and was rather peeved on divorce.

Happy news, ego is murdered!

"We're so going to fight." Tears flicker in his eyes and he gulps hard to stay sane. She has made such a courageous bet and he would make sure she never wins.

She halts his self-promises by raising on toes to shower him with wet kisses. His head zones in pleasure as she sucks his Adam apple. "Do you plan to hold fires?" She seizes the hem of his shirt with shivering hands and desperately pulls him.

He groans at her torturing proximity.

His skin's sweltering.

His lust rousing.

His manhood elongating.

If he let her remove his shirt, the first round will take ten minutes only.

He eyes her pulsating neck vein and slants for a fervent attack. Howsoever, her terrorized clutch near his lower abdomen bounds him.

Treat her with care, Arnav.

He glances at her flawless face and finds home in teasing her. His warm blow of nose tickles her sanity and she agapes her mouth, anticipating his burning passion. She is a newly wedded bride and she must be pleasured thoroughly.

"Arnav." She moans, craving a bite but he is being vicious to her innocent desires.

"Let's celebrate the bet." He offers rather impertinently, while carrying her in bridal style and she contently smiles at his bothering over the separation.

She grips his hair, guiding him to her hard pebble. "Sure." She almost moans as he laps his tongue, soaking her shirt as well as solacing her thirst of love. She writhers as he folds her shirt up and fanatically tend the tender nipple.

"Khushi, the bet... I intended to remind us how our love soared during Bhai's wedding. Nothing serious." To be honest, he is dreading bet. Surely, they will play fair but she has staked their sacred wedlock. Who directs life on bets?

"Why, scared?" She laps tongue on his jaw priming it for a bite being assured of their life-time bond.

"No. But I would not want my loyalty be tagged 'bet-sake'." He reasons, halting lovemaking.

"You brought bet in between. Better, make promise to your inner-self and Allah to never two-time me."

"Sounder!" He is satisfied with the adjustments and eagerly leans to her clothed body. She can give him an orgasm being totally wrapped in fabric.

"Arnav..." She jovially giggles his name as he draws coverlet over them, emanating his plans for night. She has terrifically waited for him beyond his calculation. If he was admiring her since their first meet, she also had a crush on him which she always shrugged away for the piety sake and consequently got blessed with his companionship for whole life.

Truly, Nikah fills hearts with love.

And if they are already in love, it brims, consuming your existence and selfishness.

Only self-less devotion stays!

This night in the melody of rain, elucidate them the real meaning of their relationship and purity. They might quarrel, fight on wee things but they have a heart to genuinely forgive mistakes. Yes, a cautious step is must for the future but who's going to care about it when they forgot to breathe at the mere mention of separation. Love is not what's confessed in three magical words but it is rather felt deeply especially when life is staked on sharp arrows of woes. Nonetheless, when both parties mutually share the zealot devotion, the life is merrily spent on the roller coaster of fights and love. May no evil eye ever blemish such affection and no evil successes to distance spouses!

LET THE LOVE BLOOM!

***

So, we have come to the end or I must say BLOOMING period of love. Hope, you had a great journey with this story like me.

Stay Blessed, you all.