"Get your hands off of my wife," Salaar ran up the path flanked by another man. They stared at me wide-eyed, their mouths agape.

"Don't you dare come near her. I'll snap this pretty neck of hers. That'll give you a good ten more years to mope around."

A hint of panic flashed in Salaar's eyes.

Still standing in place, they looked between us, but all I could do was shake my head. I couldn't get enough breath, and my pulse thrummed, but I stuttered. "Don't listen to him. He's a coward. He snaps my neck, he goes to jail for murder."

"You think I can't buy my way out? I did it once I can do it again."

That explained so much. "You're despicable."

He pressed his knee against mine, pushing me towards the ground. My heart thundered as sweat ran down my back. Salaar's eyes widened and he stepped forward just as Tauqeer pulled my head back with a sharp tug.

"Let her go!"

"Take back the charges and I'll let your pretty little wife go."

"Don't listen to him Salaar. He's doing this to me today, he'll do this to someone else tomorrow."

"He's not going to do anything to anyone," Salaar shouted, striding forward purposefully.

Tauqeer's grip slackened slightly and I took a chance. Twisting around, I picked up a stone and rammed it against his knee. He folded and I darted out of the way, crawling towards safety. Towards Salaar.

People had started to gather, talking in hushed tones all at once, and the sound was overwhelming, a dissonant clatter in the distance. It was blocked out when two solid arms circled me.

I took a gulping breath, inhaling his scent as deeply as I could.

Salaar's familiar voice was thick with emotion as he spoke close to my ear, cutting through the chaos. "Are you hurt? What happened? Did he . . ."

"No, I—" I tried to take a breath, but instead I sobbed, unable to finish the sentence. He pulled me tighter against his chest, his chin on my head. Everything seemed to come out at once in a steady stream of tears—the fear of Tauqeer hurting me, of losing everything we'd worked for, of losing Salaar.

"Shh... you're safe. You're safe with me."

The adrenaline surging through me dissipated, and my hands began to tremble, my legs feeling wobbly. The full impact of what he could have done, what he wanted to do, hit me, and tears sprang into my eyes.

"Thank you, ma'am." The officer finished taking my statement, tipped his head, and walked out to the parking lot. They had Tauqeer in the back of a police van, but he would probably have a good enough lawyer that he'd be out in no time and spinning his lies.

"It wasn't me man! You know girls like these. She was into it and then just went off."

Tauqeer's voice crawled up my spine, and I shuddered.

Salaar whipped around, and his body seemed to grow taller and wider as every muscle tensed. The hands that had been stroking my back moments before balled into tight fists at his side.

Salaar's friend stepped between the two men, putting a meaty palm against his shoulder, stopping him from lunging toward Tauqeer, who stood ten feet away being handcuffed by a police officer.

I didn't recognize Salaar's voice. It was menacing. "You should think very carefully about what you say because if you open your mouth again, I will finish what she started and break your freaking jaw."

I shook, unable to still my hands. This hadn't really happened. The sting of my cheek from his slap and the scrapes along the backs of my arms from the wall couldn't be explained away. He hit me. He was going to . . . Tears pricked behind my eyes, and my breathing was fast, too fast. The ghost of his touch on my body turned my stomach, and my head spun.

Salaar wrapped me in his arms again, wordlessly. "Let's get out of here. He's not worth it," I said into his shirt as he stroked the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair.

"You are," He replied pulling me up and bundling me into his car. I gingerly skimmed over the cheek that was tender and swollen. I could only imagine what I looked like, my face bruised and arms scraped, tear tracks on my skin.

"Where are we going?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Our home."

Immediately after we pulled away from the site, he reached across the console to
hold my handle. We spent the drive in silence, listening only to the sounds of the road around us and the robotic voice on the GPS. I glanced at his profile; his jaw was firm and his eyes focused on the road.

We walked into the house, pausing in front of his room. Salaar was so stiff and careful not to touch me like he didn't know if it was allowed. After the door was open, he fiddled with his watch and looked away from my face. "Are you okay with this?"

I nodded my head without saying anything.

"Okay, then I'll . . ." He rested his hand on the knob, then hesitantly stepped out of the room. That shift, that movement of his eyes, tripped something in me. Emotionally frayed and physically exhausted, I took control again, but this time to reach for what I wanted.

"No. Salaar, wait." I stepped forward and touched his arm. "Will you stay?"

He swallowed, and his gaze traveled over my face, pausing on the bruise on my cheek.
His forearm was warm, and the familiar act of touching him gave me more confidence. I reached for his wrist.

"Please?"It took him a moment, but he slowly laced his fingers with mine and pushed the door close behind him.

Hours later, the sun was rising in the sky, casting the room in a warm glow. The faint smell of sandalwood filled my nostrils, and I pressed my face into the soft surface of my pillow. Slowly, awareness knitted together around me, and I smiled before my eyes opened. Salaar's face was inches from mine.

I rubbed my eyes, stifling a yawn. "What time is it?"

"It's after eight," his voice was raspy and just above a whisper. "I woke up maybe an hour ago." Under the blanket, his finger touched mine. It was a tiny, soft gesture, the smallest point of contact—a sweet connection. "But I didn't want to leave you yet," he added. An unbridled sob escaped my mouth and I clutched his hand, trying to forget yesterday's experience.

"Rania," he said in a ragged voice that unfurled from deep within his chest. "I was ready to wring his neck. I'm sorry I wasn't there. He'd trapped me."

"What do you mean?" Tears slipped down my cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.

"He was trying to blackmail me into handing out the company documents. I finally got the board to recognize his fraudulent character and they agreed to hand over his shares to me."

I sat up. "So we did it? We won?"

His eyes took in my face, his gaze speculative. "Yeah, we did it," his voice was soft, unassuming.

But what did that mean for us? I looked at my fingers, trying to come up with the right words.

"Salaar."

"Rania."

"You first," I muttered, biting my lip, leaning against the headboard.

"I know we agreed to do this until I got my share back and you got justice. We've done that. I don't know what you want to do and I would never force you to stay, but Rania, I want you to stay. I want this to work. I want this to be real," he swept a fingertip over the underside of my wrist. "Can we start over?"

My spine relaxed in a way that made me realize how stiffly I had been holding myself."No," I said, letting my eyes wander over his face unabashedly. "Let's just . . ." his lips brushed by my wrist and an electric shock zipped through me. "Keep going," I closed my eyes against the torrent of emotion and the shudder of pleasure his quick touch evoked. "What is it isn't easy? What if we mess this up? I'm extremely messed up."

"I doubt it will be," he said, resigned. "You're perfect, don't you ever say that about yourself. Nothing worth having is easy, but I'm willing to work on it. Are you?"

I nodded, untangling my fingers from the fabric of his shirt. "I am," I said in a voice just above a whisper.

He nodded and kissed my cheek, a soft peck, before wrapping me in his arms again. For the first time in months, I relaxed my muscles, leaning against him, having someone to hold me who I could trust to not let me fall.

***
Four months later, I sat in my office struggling with a stack of designs. Tauqeer's assault had dredged up emotions and memories that I wished I never had. I rarely slept well, but recently I hadn't been sleeping at all, and every unexpected noise or sudden movement left me quaking, startling awake prepared to fight. But Salaar was always there, holding me, comforting me, helping me forget.

The whole family was back Ammi, Abba, and Ayesha, who were incredibly happy to see us happy. Now my mornings were filled with my work and my evenings with their delightful company.

Out the open window, the cool breeze swept through my office, and my phone buzzed on my desk.

Salaar: Did you like the flowers?

I stared at the beautiful arrangement of red roses on my desk and typed out a quick reply.

Rania: Made my day.
Salaar: Date night today?
Rania: Have you got something planned?
Salaar: It's a surprise.
Rania: Can't wait!
Salaar: I'm downstairs.

What? 

I ran towards the window, peering into the street. There he stood, his legs crossed, leaning against the car. His eyes were shaded with a pair of aviator glasses focused on his phone.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach. 

I closed my eyes against the torrent of emotion and inhaled the fall air, grabbing my bag and the bouquet, skipping to meet my husband. Salaar stood outside, his features bathed in the sunlight of the hazy Karachi evening, waiting for me.

His gaze moved to mine, and he smiled, the special one, just for me.

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Here's the final chapter! As always, thoughts?