It was late afternoon when Naira found Ahad in the kitchen, an apron tied haphazardly around his waist as he frowned down at his phone. The counter was littered with chopped potatoes, spices, and fresh herbs. The sound of oil sizzling in a pan filled the room.

"Ahad?" she called softly, leaning against the doorway.

His head jerked up, and his sharp features softened when he saw her. "Jaan," he said, slipping the phone into his pocket. The word sent a shiver through her-he'd started calling her that recently, and every time, it made her chest tighten.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping closer.

"I read online about a recipe for aloo ke samose," he replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You love potatoes, don't you?"

Naira blinked, momentarily speechless. "You... you're making samosas for me?"

He turned back to the counter, casually flipping the diced potatoes in the pan. "Who else?"

The simplicity of his statement made her throat tighten. She stood silently for a moment, watching him navigate the kitchen with surprising ease. When he noticed her lingering, he raised an eyebrow.

"Tum baitho. Don't just stand there gawking," he said, gesturing toward the stool by the counter. "These won't be ready for a while."

Naira obeyed, perching on the stool and resting her chin in her palm. "You're full of surprises," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Surprises?" He smirked, sprinkling garam masala over the golden potatoes. "This is nothing. Wait until I figure out how to make aloo parathas properly."

She let out a laugh, and the sound seemed to light up the entire room. Ahad froze for a fraction of a second, his smirk softening into something warmer.

Later, after they had finished their snack (which Naira couldn't stop praising), Zara and Mina came bounding into the living room, clutching two pomegranates they had swiped from the fruit basket.

"Mama, can you cut this?" Zara asked, holding up the fruit.

Before Naira could respond, Ahad appeared behind her, taking the pomegranates from Zara's hands. "Let me do it," he said, leading the girls to the kitchen.

Naira followed, her curiosity piqued. She watched as Ahad rolled up his sleeves and carefully cut into the tough skin of the pomegranates, his movements precise.

"Baba's so good at this!" Mina exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Ahad chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at Naira. "See? Even your daughters think I'm talented."

Naira crossed her arms, feigning indifference. "Let's see if you can actually get the seeds out without making a mess."

He shot her a playful glare but continued his work, meticulously extracting the ruby-red seeds and placing them in a bowl. When he was done, he handed the bowl to Mina with a dramatic flourish.

"Ta-da!" he declared.

The twins erupted into giggles, and Naira couldn't help but smile.

"You're ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.

"And you're welcome," he replied smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement.

That evening, as the twins played in the garden, Naira and Ahad sat on the patio, sipping chai. The soft hum of crickets filled the air, and the faint scent of jasmine drifted on the breeze.

"Tum teek ho?" Ahad asked after a while, his voice low.

Naira glanced at him, startled. "Haan... why?"

"You've been quiet," he said, leaning back in his chair. His gaze was steady, unreadable. "I can tell when something's on your mind."

Naira hesitated, unsure how to put her feelings into words. "It's just... everything feels so new. So different. Sometimes I wonder if this is real."

Ahad didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached across the table, his hand brushing against hers. "It's real, Naira," he said firmly. "Main hoon na. I won't let anything happen to you or the girls."

Her heart thudded in her chest at the sincerity in his voice. She wanted to believe him-more than anything, she wanted to believe that she could finally let her guard down.

"Thank you," she murmured, her fingers curling slightly against his.

Ahad tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Bas thank you? You could at least admit that you're impressed with me."

Naira laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"Only for you, jaan," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

The air between them grew heavy, charged with unspoken emotions. For a moment, Naira felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them under the stars.

Later that night, after the twins had fallen asleep, Naira found herself standing on the balcony, staring out at the city lights. She didn't hear Ahad approach until he was right beside her, his shawl draped over one arm.

"You'll catch a cold," he said, wrapping the shawl around her shoulders without waiting for her to protest.

Naira looked up at him, her heart aching with a mix of gratitude and something deeper. "Why do you do all this?" she asked quietly.

Ahad's expression softened, and for the first time, she saw a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Because you deserve it," he said simply.

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. But Ahad wasn't done. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Someday, you'll believe it too," he murmured.

And with that, he stepped back, leaving Naira alone with her thoughts-and the faint, lingering warmth of his touch.