A/N: GASP - an update without replying to comments for the last chapter?! I only had time to do one thing, so I'll post the chapter and save all the wonderful reactions to read together. I hope you enjoy this last chapter of their honeymoon before we return to Hyderabad and welcome...surprises, hehehe. This chapter is all fluff, Mr. Kaahaani said "this is a guidebook for how a husband should be" - and it's a long 20 page one. See you on the other side!

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"It feels like we're leaving a part of us here," Meerab muttered as she nestled close to him, her hand in his, gripping it with a tenderness that spoke louder than words, as they travelled from the resort in the same Mercedes to the same airport they had arrived from.

He sighed, "it really does." He muttered, with each mile they put between themselves and the resort nestled in the heart of the wild, if felt like they were also distancing themselves from moments that had become etched into the very essence of their beings. Moments of unbridled joy, of tranquility, of a love that had somehow grown ever deeper. It felt like a bittersweet departure from a place that had witnessed so many memories, a place immortalized through the lens of his camera and their minds.

"We can come back some day, right?" she implored, resting her head against his shoulder.

He nodded, "maybe in a few years, with our children, we can stay at the lodge that allows them." He remembered the little brochures about all the different lodges at Lion Sands.

She yawned, "I like that."

"Sleep, I'll wake you up." He told her.

"I don't know why I am so tired suddenly." She whined but curled into his chest as he wrapped his arm around her, falling asleep within minutes. She woke up as they went through the easy check-in process at the Skukuza Airport where they had first arrived and boarded their short flight to Cape Town.

Their flight was quiet as well, Meerab falling asleep as soon as the plane took off, only to wake up when he tried to buckle her seatbelt as they got ready to land.

Their arrival marked a transition, from the rustic, untamed beauty of the wild to the sophisticated allure of the city. Meerab's grip on Murtasim's hand tightened as the plane descended, her eyes wide as she looked out the window. "It's so different," she whispered, her voice laced with wistfulness as they began their descent into Cape Town.

Peering out the window alongside her, Murtasim took in the sprawling cityscape set against the dramatic backdrop of towering mountains and the expansive blue of the ocean. It was a stark contrast to the serene vastness they had left behind. Here, the vibrant pulse of city life was palpable. The majestic Table Mountain loomed over the city, a stoic guardian watching over the bustling streets, the lush greenery offering a vivid reminder of the natural beauty that surrounded this urban oasis. It was a world away from the secluded paradise of their safari resort, yet it held the promise of new adventures, new memories to be made.

Arriving at the One&Only Cape Town, nestled in the heart of the Victoria & Alfred Waterfront, Murtasim and Meerab were greeted with their hotel, renowned for its opulence and prime location amidst the bustling hub of luxury shopping and scenic views.

As the car stopped, Meerab spoke. "It's so weird to hear traffic and people again," she remarked, her voice tinged with a mixture of awe and nostalgia as they took in the lively atmosphere.

"It does seem unnatural now," Murtasim mused. "Imagine going back to Pakistan."

Meerab groaned and he laughed just as their car doors were opened, they stepped out of the vehicle, greeted by the warm smiles of the hotel staff. Meerab's little giggles, a sound that never failed to warm his heart, echoed softly as they navigated through the check-in process, their luggage whisked away to their room.

Despite the early hour and the flight they had just disembarked from, there was an undeniable energy that propelled them forward. Once settled in their lavishly appointed room, which Meerab inspected with an approving eye, oohs and aahs, they couldn't resist the call of exploration. Hand in hand, they ventured out into the city, the area around them a captivating mix of modernity and charm. The cobblestone streets, lined with chic cafes, artisan boutiques, and the constant ebb and flow of locals and tourists alike, offered a picturesque setting for their first day in Cape Town.

Murtasim had left his camera behind in their luggage, yet he couldn't help but pull out his phone to take pictures of his wife. The warm Cape Town sun lit up her features, accentuating the soft glow of her skin. She was draped in a beige jumpsuit that hugged her figure in all the right places, making her look like a vision, much like she had in the olive green one she had worn.

"Stop it," she laughed, her voice mingling with the lively sounds of the waterfront. Her arms found their way around his waist, an attempt to thwart his photographic endeavors.

"No, I need choices for my phone background," he protested playfully, holding his phone just out of her reach.

"I like the ones we have now," she countered, referring to their current phone wallpapers that captured moments of pure happiness from their journey. His screen displayed a candid shot from their first game drive, standing side by side, his arm wrapped around her, her gaze lifted to his, brimming with laughter and love. Hers, was a selfie of them laying in bed, covered with white bed linens, their faces alight with smiles.

Before he could respond, Meerab's excitement cut through the air. "IT SAYS PANI PURI!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying over the crowd. Her finger pointed eagerly down the street. Murtasim's eyes followed her gesture, landing on the quaint establishment named 'Kapoochka' with a smaller sign that read 'Indian Streetfood.'

Turning to Meerab, he saw the sheer delight on her face, her feet barely touching the ground as she hopped in anticipation. "Let's go!" she urged, tugging at his hand with an enthusiasm that was infectious. He allowed himself to be led by her. After days of indulging in foreign cuisines and exploring new tastes, the prospect of savoring familiar flavors was unexpectedly comforting.

Nestled within the vibrant walls of the quaint restaurant, Murtasim and Meerab found themselves caught in a delightful dilemma. "I don't know what I want," Meerab lamented, her eyes scanning the extensive list of dishes, each sounding more tempting than the last.

"All of it," Murtasim teased, a playful glint in his eye. He knew all too well her indecisiveness when it came to food, a charming quirk that he found endlessly endearing.

Meerab's response was a pout, so genuinely distressed over her culinary conundrum that Murtasim couldn't help but laugh. "My stomach is too small," she whined, her gaze lifting from the menu to meet his, seeking solace in her slight predicament.

"How about golgappe, dahi samosa, dahi puri, and that paneer sandwich?" he suggested, offering a selection that combined a variety of flavors and textures, hoping to cater to her whims.

Her face lit up at the mention of the dishes, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "And mango lassi!" she added eagerly, her decision made.

Their waitress, a friendly South Asian Cape Town native jotted down their order before offering recommendations for other nearby eateries that she recommended for what she called a taste of home. Her generosity was met with grateful attention from Meerab, who meticulously noted each suggestion on her phone.

Murtasim watched his wife, fascinated. Though he had known her for years, their marriage had unveiled layers to Meerab he was still discovering. Her passion for food, how she could oscillate between being a discerning food critic and a carefree diner, was a revelation.

"I am so excited to eat," Meerab declared, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, her voice a melody of pure delight.

Murtasim couldn't help but tease her, a playful lilt in his voice. "You act like it's been years since you've had golgappe."

Her response was a mock pout, lips curving downwards in feigned distress. "It feels like it's been years," she lamented, her exaggerated dismay only adding to her charm.

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound a testament to the comfort and ease between them. "Next time, we should plan a trip where golgappe are just around the corner at all times."

Her grin was immediate and wide, lighting up her face. "I know you're teasing me, but I'm too happy to be annoyed right now." She reached up to tie her hair into a ponytail, preparing for the feast ahead.

"Getting ready to eat?" Murtasim couldn't resist another jab, fondly observing her ritual. She had this habit of tying her hair up whenever the cuisine promised to be a hands-on affair, lest her beautiful locks became an unintended casualty of her culinary adventures.

Meerab's retort was swift and lighthearted, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I think people here would be a bit more scandalized if my husband spent the entire meal playing with my hair instead of eating."

His smile widened, turning his gaze momentarily away to hide the warmth that surged within him at her words. Yes, he thought, perhaps he did enjoy playing with her hair, using it as an excuse to sit closer, to steal tender kisses that had been perfectly acceptable in the privacy they were afforded at the resort.

When the food arrived, it was as if they had been transported back home, the familiar tang of spices and the comforting textures comforting. Meerab dove into the dishes with gusto, her usual restraint abandoned in favor of the joyous exploration of flavors. Murtasim savored not just the meal, but the sight of her happiness.

After their unusual brunch, Murtasim and Meerab sought refuge from the piercing midday sun within the cool, sprawling confines of the V&A Waterfront Mall – which their concierge at Lion Sands had recommended for shopping. The air inside was a welcome respite from the heat, filled with the buzz of shoppers and the distant melody of a live band playing somewhere on the ground floor.

"Why are you pouting?" Murtasim inquired, his voice laced with amusement as he wrapped his arm around Meerab's waist and pulled her closer. The mall's vastness engulfed them, shops of every kind beckoning with their window displays.

"There's so much I want to buy, and we don't have enough suitcase space," Meerab lamented, her eyes wide and longing as they passed by a series of boutiques, each more enticing than the last.

Murtasim's response was to lean in, pressing a quick, affectionate peck on her lips when she looked up at him, an act that earned him a playful whack on the arm. "We're in public!" she protested, a blush creeping onto her cheeks despite the smile tugging at her lips.

"No one knows us here," he shrugged off the reprimand with a carefree grin, he could only do this for so long, it was freeing to be able to show his affection for his wife so openly. No one blinked twice here.

She rolled her eyes, a gesture full of feigned exasperation. "You're not even listening to me," she continued to whine, her gaze now locked onto a quaint shop that boasted an array of local crafts. "How am I supposed to buy anything?"

"I told you to pack light," he teased, giving her ponytail a gentle tug, an action that only served to deepen her pout.

This time, her response was another light whack, her expression a mix of mock annoyance and genuine dilemma. Murtasim laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We can just buy another suitcase, even two if we need it, and pay for extra luggage, meri jaan," he offered, his voice soft and soothing.

At his words, her face transformed, the previous concern melting away to reveal a spark of excitement, as if the solution he proposed had never crossed her mind. The possibility of expanding their luggage capacity seemed to open up a world of shopping opportunities for her, and her mood visibly brightened.

"We have so much to do then!" she declared, her voice a blend of determination and delight. Murtasim couldn't help but laugh, admiring how she managed to push him in the direction she wanted so easily.

As they meandered through the many stores, Meerab had a unique way of evaluating items. She would hold up a garment, her gaze intense as she assessed its potential, a small hum of approval or a decisive shake of the head dictating its fate. Murtasim watched in amusement, charmed by her meticulous process. Most of the time she held out things for him like that, looking between the item and him before deciding.

"Aren't you supposed to be shopping for yourself?" he teased when she presented yet another shirt for him.

Meerab exhaled, frustration in her tone. "I just see all these things, and I know they'll look good on you, and I can't help it," she admitted, her expression softening. "Why do you look good in everything?" She whined.

"Everything looks good on you too," Murtasim pointed out, his voice earnest. "Want me to pick for you?"

Her response was a quick shake of her head, her lips pursed in thought. "There are a lot of cute clothes, but I can't wear most of this stuff back home." Murtasim's eyes swept over the store's offerings, acknowledging the truth in her words. The racks were adorned with vibrant, short dresses and other revealing outfits that, while fashionable, wouldn't align with the modesty expected back home.

His playful suggestion, "You can wear it for me," earned him a mock glare and a light, affectionate whack on the arm.

Determined to help her find something she loved and could wear with confidence, Murtasim directed his attention to the more modest selections in every store they entered. Together, they uncovered treasures among the racks: cardigans that fell softly around her frame, loose pants with matching tops or blazers, and long silk shirts and blouses that danced between the lines of modesty and modern fashion.

Meerab moved with the eagerness of a child set loose in a candy store when they got to stores selling shoes or bags, her eyes sparkling each time she found another pair of shoes or a bag that caught her fancy. It wasn't long before she insisted Murtasim try on shoes too, her laughter ringing clear and bright when she found a pair she claimed were "absolutely perfect" for him.

Then, Meerab turned her attention to gifts for their family. Each choice was thoughtful, considered with a loving attention to detail that Murtasim admired deeply. She held up each item, seeking his opinion with a serious expression, "This purse for Maa Begum for parties," she mused, her fingers brushing over the delicate design that he knew his mother would enjoy so he nodded.

"That would go well with almost everything she owns," he said.

"This purse or this one for Mama to run errands," she continued, selecting two practical yet stylish options that were large enough to store all essentials.

"I think she'll like that one more," he said, pointing to the brown leather one that was a bit more structured.

Meerab nodded, and Murtasim found himself pulled into her thought process, offering nods of approval or suggesting alternatives. "This belt and wallet for Baba, or this one?" she asked, holding up two options.

"I think I saw one that said reversible, so it'd be black and brown leather."

Her face lit up, "where?"

He moved behind her, searching through the rack and pulling out the one he had seen earlier.

She squealed, "it's perfect!" He loved the smile she gave him.

"A wallet and cufflinks for Abbu, he doesn't wear belts much?" She turned to him a while later while inspecting cufflinks.

"He likes cufflinks." Murtasim said, nodding, helping her pick out some.

Moments later, they were picking a bag and matching wallet for Maryam, and then a larger tote for her to take with her to university.

He snickered as she kept picking things out for Maryam, "I guess she's your second-favourite." He teased.

Meerab turned to him, a sly grin on her face, shaking her head, "she's my favourite," she teased, squealing when he pinched the side of her stomach in retaliation.

"I am your favourite," he said smugly. "Most of the bags in my hand are filled with stuff for me."

She snorted, "That's how we determine favourites now?"

He nodded as she went back to picking out stuff. They picked out bags for both Dua and Rani as well, Dua's more practical than Rani's flashy loud evening bag. Meerab's excitement only grew as she discovered a section dedicated to baby items. The tender way she selected a little hat and shoes for Salar, and a mini purse for Aaminah. Murtasim couldn't resist adding to their haul, choosing wallets for his friends who Meerab had helped bring back into his life.

When it came time to check out, Meerab's reaction was priceless. Her eyes widened in shock at the total, a comical expression that had Murtasim chuckling. She quickly pulled out her phone, converting the prices and tallying the total in her head, a habit instilled by her parents it seemed, who had raised her to be mindful of spending despite their wealth. It was a contrast to his own family's approach to shopping, where a trip to the jewelry store could easily result in spending tens of lakhs under the guise of picking up "just a little something."

As the afternoon wore on, Meerab's energy seemed to wane slightly, yet Murtasim couldn't help but notice how her gaze still wandered longingly towards the luxury boutiques across the mall. The luminous storefronts of Gucci and Louis Vuitton beckoned, their allure undeniable even from a distance.

Despite her words, her eyes betrayed a lingering desire to explore further.

"Maybe that's enough for today," Meerab said, though her voice lacked conviction. Murtasim knew better than to take her words at face value.

"No, you haven't bought enough for yourself yet," he insisted, his voice gentle yet firm. He was determined to make this trip unforgettable for her, to spoil her in ways she'd never imagined.

"But you're holding so many bags," she pointed out with concern, eyeing the multitude of shopping bags he juggled with ease. He had become a pro at managing their collective shopping spree, holding 8 bags in one hand and 7 in the other.

"Let me hold some," she offered, reaching out to share the load. But Murtasim was adamant, pulling his hand away with a playful shake of his head. "No," he refused, smiling at her attempt to help. It wasn't the weight of the bags that bothered him; it was the challenge of navigating the bustling mall while laden with their finds.

"How about we call the hotel and have them pick all of this up? We can sit at the café outside, get some coffee while we wait, then get lunch and do some more shopping," he suggested, proposing a compromise.

Meerab's sigh, a delicate blend of exasperation and fondness, carried a world of unspoken words as she looked at him. It was a look of pure love, her expression soft.

"What?" he inquired.

"How are you so perfect?" she smiled, her question more a statement of wonder than inquiry.

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning up in a bashful smile.

"Seriously, I thought you'd be whiny and act like one of those husbands that keep saying 'let's go home now' to their wives at malls," she confessed, her voice tinged with amusement.

Murtasim hummed, "I thought I'd be like that as well," he said, for he hated going shopping with is mother and Maryam.

"Then?" She asked.

He shrugged, "I like being with you, and seeing you smile."

"You better not change!" she smiled, her words a playful warning laced with affection.

He laughed again. "I won't," he assured her. "Now, take my phone out of my pocket and arrange for a pick-up."

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Murtasim couldn't help but marvel at the efficiency of the hotel staff as their myriad shopping bags were swiftly loaded into a trunk, all before they had even managed to finish their drinks – an iced coffee for him and a lemonade for his wife. With the assurance that everything would be waiting in their room upon their return, they set off once more.

Lunch found them in a cozy Turkish restaurant nestled near the bustling waterfront, a spot recommended by their previous server, promising an array of halal options. The warm, inviting aroma of spices and freshly baked bread filled the air.

Back in the whirl of the mall just a couple of hours later, Murtasim's eyes sparkled with mischief as he steered Meerab towards a particular lingerie store they had passed earlier. Her laughter rang out, a clear, joyful sound that mingled with the ambient noise of the mall, as she attempted, in vain, to change their course by pushing him the other way.

"Murtasim, stop!" she protested.

"I can't just walk into a store like that every day, so you should take me while I can," he countered, adopting a pout that he knew all too well she found impossible to resist.

With a resigned sigh and a shake of her head that spoke volumes of her affectionate indulgence, Meerab relented, leading him towards the shop. A delicate flush painted her cheeks a soft pink, a detail Murtasim couldn't resist commenting on. "Why are you blushing?" he inquired, his voice laced with amusement as he drew her closer, their hands intertwined.

"Shut up," she retorted, the flush deepening, her eyes darting around as if seeking an escape from his teasing gaze.

"It's not like I haven't seen you in stuff like that," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her, a teasing edge to his words that he knew would elicit a reaction.

"If you say more, you never will again," she snapped back, her tone playful yet firm, a clear warning that had him closing his mouth immediately.

As they crossed the threshold into the lingerie store, they were immediately enveloped in an overpowering blend of sweet perfumes. The music, with its suggestive lyrics, seemed to pulse through the space, adding an undeniable energy that made Meerab giggle—a sound that brightened even the dimly lit, opulent interior.

Murtasim couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her amusement.

"This is a far cry from where I went," she remarked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Hmmm?" he prodded gently when she hesitated, intrigued by her reaction to the store's atmosphere.

"I told you I went twice back home, once with Maryam and once with Rani and Dua, right?" Meerab said, pausing for him to nod before she continued "Those stores sell everything, and at first, they try to show you basic underwear. But then, when you say you want something nicer, they give you this look and pull out the...more risqué stuff, nothing is displayed openly like this." Her explanation was punctuated by a soft giggle, a sound that Murtasim found utterly endearing.

He nodded in understanding as they ventured deeper into the store. The space was a visual feast, with walls adorned with lingerie that ranged from the elegantly simple to the daringly bold. Soft pastels clashed with vibrant hues, each piece more tantalizing than the last, displayed not just as clothing but as pieces of art meant to be admired and desired.

"Can we buy everything?" Murtasim whispered half-jokingly, his gaze wandering over the intricate lace, the delicate chiffon, and the luxurious silk that promised to transform the wearer into a vision of allure. In his mind's eye, each piece was already being modeled by Meerab, and the thought was both exciting and overwhelming.

She snorted at his question, grounding him back to reality. "No," she replied, her tone lighthearted yet firm, a smile playing on her lips.

A saleswoman approached Murtasim and Meerab, her approach marked by the soft click of her heels against the polished floor. With a warm smile and a basket in hand, she offered, "Hello there, would you like a basket?" Her gesture, both inviting and practical, was met with Meerab's hesitant pause.

Before Meerab could politely decline, Murtasim's hand shot out, eagerly accepting the basket with a nod. "Yes, thank you," he said, wondering if they might need another. The saleswoman's lips curved into an amused smile, her eyes flickering between the two of them.

"If you need help with sizing, let me know. My name is Stacy," she said to Meerab, her voice friendly and accommodating.

"Thank you, Stacy," Meerab responded, her voice laced with genuine appreciation. Stacy gave them a nod before she gracefully retreated, allowing them the space to browse in comfort.

Turning to Murtasim, Meerab arched an eyebrow, a silent question about his sudden enthusiasm. With a grin that was both boyish and conspiratorial, he leaned closer and whispered, "You should fill this basket to the brim...these you can wear just for me."

Meerab's response was a playful roll of her eyes, though her cheeks were tinted with a blush that betrayed her excitement. She began to meander through the store, her fingers delicately brushing against the fabrics that caught her eye. Each piece she paused at was a silent contemplation, a consideration of whether it spoke to her sense of style and comfort.

Murtasim watched her with a fondness that filled the space around them, his gaze soft. Whenever Meerab decided against an item, placing it back on the shelf with a soft sigh, Murtasim would swoop in, plucking it from its perch and adding it to their growing collection in the basket. This often resulted in a playful scolding from Meerab, who would swat at him lightly, chiding, "That's not even my size," before diligently searching for the correct one and replacing his hasty selection.

"I don't understand this one," Meerab muttered, her brow furrowed in contemplation a few minutes later. She held the piece up, examining the straps that wove across the torso and back, creating patterns that left nothing to the imagination. It was like someone had taken a reel of ribbon and attached it together to resemble a cage in the shape of a swimsuit. Her fingers traced the edges of the straps, designed to barely cover, their purpose seemingly more decorative than functional.

"Why?" Murtasim queried.

"If you have even a little fat, it's going to stick out of the cut-outs," she reasoned, her voice a mix of skepticism and intrigue. She tugged lightly at the straps, indicating their precarious coverage. "And this—" she gestured to the minimal fabric intended to cover the nipples, "—is probably not going to cover anything. But maybe that's the point."

The twinkle in Murtasim's eyes was unmistakable. The thought of Meerab in such an ensemble sent a thrill through him, she would look like a dream. "That one is a little better," he suggested, pointing towards another rack. This alternative boasted a similar boldness but was tempered by the presence of actual bra cups, offering a semblance of modesty amidst the daring design.

Meerab, however, was not easily swayed. She hummed noncommittally, her gaze sliding past the suggested alternative, her interest clearly not piqued.

Undeterred, Murtasim scanned the sizes within their already laden basket, selecting an equivalent size of the piece he had shown her.

"You're incorrigible," Meerab sighed, catching sight of his addition to their collection.

His response was a simple grin, wide and unabashed.

It seemed that his wife found herself drawn to the more delicate, whimsical yet practical pieces – on pairs of silk shirts and pajamas. Her hands lingered on a set of camisoles paired with matching shorts, the fabric soft and inviting. She placed a teal one into their basket, its color reminiscent of a serene ocean. Murtasim added a red set, imagining the contrast of the vibrant color against her skin. The practicality of the tiny, loose shorts which he could easily slide out of the way and the ease with which the thin straps could be maneuvered sparked a silent anticipation in him.

Then, Meerab's gaze landed on an ensemble that seemed to capture the essence of ethereal beauty itself. It was a masterpiece of sheer lace, its design daring yet delicate. The front boasted a cutout in a deep V beneath the bra, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin, while a layer of sheer lace veiled the stomach, whispering promises of hidden treasures. The color was a subtle champagne, almost white but with a warmth that suggested skin illuminated by candlelight. As Meerab turned the piece over, Murtasim caught sight of the nearly non-existent back, his mind racing with the possibilities it presented.

"Yes," he found himself saying immediately as Meerab turned to face him, a question in her eyes. His voice was firm, laced with an urgency that made her laugh, a sound that was music to his ears.

He felt a need to adjust himself discreetly, the vivid images in his mind doing nothing to ease the growing tension within him. When Meerab noticed, her giggles only fueled his desire, her joy infectious yet torturous given the context.

"Seriously?" she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"I've been imagining you in every outfit I see," he confessed in a low whisper, leaning closer so only she could hear. "And figuring out how to take it off or slide it out of the way."

Meerab's response was a deep flush that colored her cheeks, a beautiful contrast against the delicate fabrics surrounding them. She whacked his arm before she turned away to pick out sets of matching bras and panties, each one she added to the basket was prettier than the last.

As Meerab made her way towards the fitting rooms, basket in hand, Murtasim couldn't help but inquire, "Are you going to try them on?"

"Most of them, you can go wait outside," she suggested.

Or," he ventured, half in jest and half in hope, "I can go into the room with you and give you a second opinion – "

She cut him off with a laugh, shaking her head firmly. "I don't trust you to keep your hands to yourself." It was a fair assessment, he admitted to himself with a resigned sigh.

Accepting his fate, he promised to meet her at the checkout, a playful warning in his voice, "I'll come to the checkout so don't even think about sneaking things out...I'll know." Her laughter in response was a soothing balm to his impatient heart.

Waiting outside the fitting rooms felt like an eternity. When she finally reappeared, the relief and excitement that washed over him were palpable. He was already moving towards her, eager to reunite and see the results of her selections.

To his delight, the basket was still brimming with her choices. "You can model them for me back at the hotel room," he suggested softly, wrapping his arm around her waist and taking the basket from her hands.

"No," she replied, looking up at him with a mix of amusement and defiance.

He couldn't help but pout, his request a genuine plea. "Please?"

"We'll see," she shrugged, her noncommittal response leaving him with a glimmer of hope. His playful pinch to her side elicited a squeal that had other patrons turning back to look at her, but she looked away, pretending the sound didn't come from her, only to whack him when they all looked away.

After paying for their purchases, Murtasim guided Meerab towards the luxury boutiques that had caught her gaze, despite her protests. "I'm not going to spend that much on a bag," Meerab declared with a firmness that belied her curious glances towards Louis Vuitton. Her distaste for the brand's iconic print on the shiny brown material was clear as she added, "And that print is ghastly."

Murtasim, however, sensed her inner conflict and coaxed her gently, "Just look." He understood the allure of luxury, even though his poison was cars and watches, so he knew the silent debate she was having with herself about indulgence versus practicality. "It's stupid to spend that outrageous amount on bags," she continued, her voice a mix of defiance and doubt.

"You bought some for everyone else," Murtasim reminded her, highlighting her generosity and perhaps, her self-neglect.

Meerab's response was a muttered concession, "I bought myself one too, and those were just expensive...not outrageous."

Encouragingly, he nudged her forward, "You don't have to buy anything, let's just go look." As they stepped into the opulent space of Louis Vuitton, they were immediately greeted by Akpene, a sales associate who asked them if they were looking for something in particular.

Before Meerab could say they were just browsing, Murtasim quickly steered the conversation. "A bag, but not those kinds," he said, gesturing dismissively at the display pieces that epitomized the brand's recognizable design.

Akpene's laughter was light and understanding, a shared moment of humor over the divisive nature of high fashion. "The monogram canvas isn't for everyone. Let me show you some alternatives. Follow me," she said, leading them through the store.

In the luxuriously appointed corner of the store, Murtasim and Meerab found themselves amidst an array of understated rather than loud elegance. Leather bags of various shapes and lined the shelves, inviting them to explore.

"That one," Meerab's voice was soft but certain, pointing towards a beige bag distinguished by its subtlety. The bag, embossed with the iconic logo in a manner that whispered luxury rather than shouted it.

"Of course," Akpene responded with a smile, retrieving the bag along with two others from the same line. "These are our Neverfull bags in Empreinte leather. The one you pointed to is the medium MM size in the color Turtledove, it also comes in two other sizes..." As the sales associate delved into the details, Murtasim watched Meerab, noticing the way her eyes danced over the craftsmanship, the way her fingertips hesitated over the textures.

Meerab turned to him, her voice dropping to a whisper steeped in disbelief and awe, "7 lakh ka hai," she muttered in Urdu, having converted the price to Pakistani rupees.

"Aapko paise ki koi kami nahi hai," he teased her gently, his voice warm with affection.

"Murtasim," she sighed, clearly exasperated.

"Meerab yaar, tum hi toh kehti ho naa ki tumhare paas doh paise wale baap aur paise wala shauhar hai..." He raised an eyebrow, his statement a gentle nudge towards self-indulgence.

She nodded, the internal battle visible in her eyes.

"Jo acha lagta hai, lelo, please," he urged her softly. "Maa aur Maryam jewelry lene mein ek baar bhi nahi sochte."

"Woh toh investment hui naa," she countered, the practicality ingrained in her voice.

"Mercedes investment nahi thi, sasti car bhi road par hi chalti hai...aur tumne mere liye itna mehenga camera bhi kharida tha, zaroori nahi hai ki har cheez practical ho, kuch cheezein dil ko khush karne ke liye bhi hoti hai" he reminded her.

She whined, "tumhe mujhe rokna tha."

He grinned, "meri biwi ko koi nahi rok sakta, mein bhi nahi."

"Aur agar mein island tak pahunch gayi toh?" She asked, a teasing lilt to her voice, reminding him of the conversation they had not too long ago about how they had enough money to sustain a couple of generation unless someone decided to buy an island.

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed around them. "Ek-doh properties sell kar lenge."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to Akpene, the sales associate was watching them with a smile, the conversation in Urdu was foreign to her ears, nonetheless she seemed to pick up on the gist. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have a husband that talks them into a purchase rather than out," she chuckled.

Meerab smiled, her gaze wandering across the array of luxurious bags, her eyes settled on another piece that seemed to captivate her interest. "Can I see that one too?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she pointed towards a smaller, elegantly designed bag that mirrored the color of the previous one she admired. "In red too, please."

Akpene, with a practiced grace retrieved the bag with a smile. "Ah, of course, ma'am, you have a very discerning eye," she complimented, presenting what she called the Capucines bag to Meerab. As she detailed the craftsmanship and the unique aspects of the bag, Murtasim couldn't help but notice the way Meerab's eyes lit up with each feature explained, her fingers gently tracing the contours of the bag as if to memorize its feel.

However, the moment the price was mentioned, a subtle change overtook Meerab's expression. Her excitement was momentarily shadowed by surprise as she learned it was about triple the price of the first bag, despite its smaller size. With a reluctant shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the original choice, the tote, which now seemed to hold even more appeal.

"But you liked the other one too, no?" Murtasim probed, trying to gauge her true preference.

Meerab, practical as ever, shook her head. "I need a bag for school. This would fit everything I would need, and it's pretty," she reasoned with a smile, her decision seemingly made. "I also don't need two bags the same colour."

"But the red one?" Murtasim asked, pointing out the bag in a striking red, hoped to see if her interest would spark again, but Meerab remained firm in her choice.

"Murtasim, seriously, I don't have to buy everything at once. This is enough for now," she assured him, her smile soft and content.

As Akpene skillfully packaged the tote in a large orange box, wrapping it with care and precision, Meerab pondered aloud about the logistics of their return journey. The sales associate's suggestion to wear the bag as a personal item and use the box for additional packing was met with an approving nod from Meerab, who took the orange shopping bag with a sense of joy.

Exiting the store, Meerab's gaze drifted towards Gucci, her expression changing to one of slight regret. "We should have checked both stores before buying something!" she exclaimed, a hint of panic in her voice that made Murtasim chuckle softly. He found her worry endearing, yet unnecessary. "You can like more than one thing, Meerab," he reassured her, amused by her resistance to spending money, they needed to change that.

Despite her initial hesitation, Meerab's eyes sparkled with interest as they ventured into the store. She quietly admired another bag, her restraint evident as she refrained from expressing her desire for it. Instead, she steered them towards the scarves section, selecting a luxurious one for his mother with careful consideration, and then a pair of sunglasses for Maryam. Then, they moved on to the shoes, where Meerab insisted he try on a pair of loafers. Slipping his feet into them, Murtasim had to admit, they were indeed the most comfortable shoes he had ever worn. Meerab also treated herself to a stylish pair of sandals.

By the time they finished their shopping spree, Meerab looked utterly exhausted, her steps slowing and her shoulders slumping slightly from the weight of the day's excitements. Sensing her fatigue, Murtasim arranged for them to be picked up from the mall as they indulged in a refreshing ice-cream break, a simple pleasure that made her kick her feet and smile.

Back at the hotel, after a shower that did little to ward off the day's weariness, Meerab succumbed to sleep almost immediately. Murtasim watched over her for a moment, admiring the peaceful look on her face. Once he was sure she was deeply asleep, he quietly sifted through the shopping bags, retrieving the business cards given by the sales associates. With a plan in mind, he sent out two texts.

As he was about to set his phone aside, Meerab's soft mutterings caught his attention. "Murtasim," she whispered in her sleep, a pout forming on her lips as her hand searched for his presence on the empty side of the bed. Smiling softly at her instinctive search for him, he couldn't resist the pull of her need for closeness. Gently, he climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her. Meerab instinctively curled into him, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she nestled closer in her sleep.

Murtasim smiled, pressed a kiss to her head and holding the woman he loved more than anything in his arms as he too succumbed to sleep.

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The next day dawned bright and early for Murtasim and Meerab, who were used to the early wake-up calls for their morning drives, but this time they they set out for Table Mountain. The air was crisp, filled with the promise of adventure as they made their way to the lower cable car station. Murtasim, with his camera slung over his neck, and a picnic basket in his hand, captured the golden hue of the morning light washing over Cape Town.

"Think we'll see any dassies up there?" Meerab asked, looking at the brochure in her hand which had a cute little animal on it called a dassie, her voice bubbling with excitement as they joined the queue for the cable car.

"If we do, I'll make sure to capture their best angles," Murtasim replied with a chuckle.

The moment they stepped into the cable car, the world seemed to transform. As the car began its ascent, gently rotating to offer a 360-degree view, the city sprawled out beneath them with life and color. Murtasim was quick to find the perfect spot, his lens capturing the changing landscapes as Meerab stood by his side, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

"Look at that view," Meerab exclaimed, leaning closer to the glass as the car continued its gentle climb.

Murtasim wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "It's beautiful," he agreed, but his eyes were on her, watching the way the light played across her face.

She laughed as she looked up at him, "you're so cheesy I am going to throw up," she teased.

"You love it."

She rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away as she took his camera from him, turning it around to face him, taking pictures as he laughed at how close the camera was to his face. As they reached the summit, the doors opened to reveal the breathtaking expanse of Table Mountain. They stepped out, the cool mountain air a stark contrast to the warmth of the cable car.

Murtasim's fingers danced over the settings of his camera, his focus shifted between the breathtaking landscape of Cape Town unfurling beneath them and the figure of his wife. The vibrant hues of the fynbos and the darting movements of wildlife around Table Mountain's summit adding layers of life to his photographs, but it was Meerab's antics that laughter, she ran around posing and laughing.

Suddenly, Meerab's attention was caught not by the small, furry dassies she had been so keen on finding but by an Asian couple meandering nearby, the man having a professional camera around his neck like Murtasim.

With an enthusiastic bounce in her step, she approached them, "Hello...sorry for bothering you, but can you take a picture of us, please?" Meerab's voice was tinged with hope, her smile infectious.

It seemed like no one could deny Meerab for they nodded.

Murtasim handed the man his camera and he grinned. "Is this the Sony Alpha 1?" the man inquired, his eyes lighting up with recognition and a hint of envy.

Murtasim's nod was the spark for a brief exchange of brief conversation between the two men, a shared moment over the mutual interest in photography.

The man turned to his wife after a moment. "This is the one I wanted to buy." He said to her before turning back to Meerab and Murtasim. "The lighting is not right here, stand on this side." He said, pointing to the right of where they were standing – where the sun's rays kissed their faces just right.

He was meticulous in how he took pictures, instructing them to pose in certain ways and move around while his wife looked on. "He's a professional photographer." She shared as the man navigated Meerab and him with the ease of a seasoned professional. "We have a little store, mostly couple and baby pictures." She smiled.

"I picked the perfect person then." Meerab giggled, a sound that Murtasim thought might even make the sun shine brighter.

"You two look very nice together." The woman smiled. "Your kids will be pretty too." The compliment brought a blush to Meerab's cheeks and a smile to Murtasim's lips.

Meerab spoke quietly. "Thank you."

Murtasim thanked the man as he took the camera from them, offering to take pictures of them too but the man just shook his head. "I love taking photos but I hate having photos taken." He laughed.

The man's wife rolled her eyes as they both waved and walked in the direction they had been heading in before. As the couple waved goodbye, disappearing into the crowd, Murtasim turned to Meerab, her hand finding his.

"Let's find a spot to picnic," Meerab suggested. "Somewhere you can photograph the city and I can try to spot dassies."

"Why do I feel like you're going to be scared if one came up to you?" Murtasim's voice was laced with amusement as he observed her eyes narrowing at his words.

"I am not scared of anything," Meerab retorted, her voice firm.

He couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing softly against the backdrop of the mountain. "Try that on someone who doesn't know you so well, meri jaan."

"Can't you just pretend to believe me?" Meerab's plea, half-whine, half-laugh, was the kind of sound that made Murtasim's heart swell.

"I thought wives didn't want their husbands to lie to them," he quipped back, the twinkle in his eye matching the one in hers.

"You're impossible," she declared, though her annoyance was as fleeting as the clouds that drifted lazily across the sky above them.

"I'll rescue you if the animals get too close and are scary," he promised, his tone teasing.

"I hate you," she said, though the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth betrayed her true feelings.

"I love you too, meri jaan," Murtasim responded with a laugh.

"Don't meri jaan me when I am mad." Meerab whined.

He snickered, "let's eat something so you're less mad."

They found a secluded spot near the café, with a view that seemed to stretch into infinity. Murtasim set down his camera, turning his full attention to Meerab as they unpacked the picnic basket the hotel had put together for them. Between bites of sandwiches and sips of tea, their laughter mingled with the sounds of the mountain.

As the day wore on, they explored the summit, Murtasim capturing every moment — from Meerab's delighted discovery of a dassie family – of which she was only slightly scared - to the sun casting its golden light over the landscape.

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"How am I always so tired these days?" Meerab whined.

Murtasim watched with a mixture of amusement and affection as Meerab lamented her exhaustion, their room's door swinging open to welcome them back from a day filled with adventures in Cape Town.

"You didn't drink coffee?" he quipped, following her into the bathroom, a playful nudge for the woman who, until recently, would have tried to drink every last drop of coffee she could find. Her hands moved under the water, as did his, washing away the remnants of the day. She turned the tap off as he grabbed a towel.

"It smells weird," she complained, a frown marring her usually bright expression as he took her hands in his, gently patting them dry. Her newfound aversion to coffee puzzled him; it was such a sudden shift from her usual habits.

"You loved it until last week, meri jaan," he reminded her.

She just shrugged. As they moved back into the bedroom, he deliberately slowed, anticipation building within him. He knew what awaited her, he had gotten multiple texts throughout the day confirming that a special surprise was waiting for her.

The moment Meerab's eyes fell upon the two boxes on the bed, one a vibrant orange and the other a deep green, her steps faltered, her gasp filling the room with the kind of surprise he had hoped for. "What ..." she began, her voice trailing off as she turned to face him, her eyes searching his for an explanation.

He couldn't contain his smile, a silent confession of his behind-the-scenes orchestrations.

"You didn't!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and delight, her earlier fatigue momentarily forgotten.

"I did," he affirmed, pride and love swelling in his chest as he stepped closer, eager to see her reaction up close.

"Murtasim!" she sounded rather shocked.

Murtasim approached Meerab with a tenderness that seemed to wrap the moment in warmth. His hands gently cupped her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks. "You liked them," he stated.

Meerab's response was a soft murmur. "You can't just buy me everything I like," she whispered back, her voice a delicate blend of admonishment and awe.

Murtasim's reply was firm, laden with an unspoken promise. "I can and I will, you deserve the world, meri jaan." And he would give it to her.

At his words, Meerab's emotions overflowed, tears brimming in her eyes before cascading down her cheeks. Murtasim, ever the tease, couldn't resist a gentle jibe. "You hate it?" he asked, a lightness to his tone that belied the concern in his eyes.

Her response was immediate, a playful whack to his chest. She then leaned into him, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace, her face buried in his chest as if trying to hide from the overwhelming surge of feelings she seemed to be experiencing. "You're spoiling me," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled yet filled with an emotion that resonated deeply in his heart.

"As I should," Murtasim responded, his voice a soft rumble of assurance.

As Meerab pulled back to look up at him, her eyes glistening with tears yet shining with love, he tenderly wiped away her tears, his touch gentle. Leaning forward, he kissed her nose, a gesture that made her giggle and chased away the remnants of her tears.

Her pout emerged then, a charming expression of concern. "But I didn't buy you anything," she said, the vulnerability in her voice tugging at his heartstrings.

His laughter rang out, a sound of pure joy, as he playfully squeezed her cheeks, pulling her face into a comical expression. "Meri biwi thodi kanjoos hai," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Her glare was as fierce as it was fond as she shook her head, something that only made him chuckle more. "You should buy me something then," he suggested.

"As soon as the mall opens tomorrow!" she declared, determination lighting up her features. And as he leaned in, his kisses were like soft whispers against her lips, each one a declaration. "I," kiss, "look," kiss, "forward," kiss, "to," kiss, "it."

Murtasim watched Meerab giggle as he pulled away, a wave of affection washed over him. The playful light in her eyes, the curve of her smile, it all pulled at something deep within him.

"You should open the boxes...what if I got you something you didn't want?" he teased, half-serious.

She shot him a look that was all affectionate exasperation. "You got me exactly what I wanted, I know," she assured him with a confidence that warmed his heart. Yet, the childlike excitement couldn't be contained as she bounded towards the bed, the two boxes becoming the center of their little universe for the moment. She patted the space next to her, an unspoken invitation he found utterly irresistible.

Instead of sitting next to her as she might have expected, he opted for a more intimate arrangement. He climbed into bed, his movements deliberate, and pulled Meerab into his lap, encasing her in a hug, pulling her back against his front.

"Seriously?" she asked, her voice tinged with laughter.

"Hmm, seriously," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. He could feel her body relax against his as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I don't know which one to open first," she whined, indecision making her words even more endearing.

He glanced at the boxes, his decision made in an instant. "Hmmm, this one," he suggested, his finger pointing towards the Louis Vuitton box.

Murtasim watched as Meerab carefully untied the ribbon, her hands trembling slightly with barely contained excitement. "It's the red one, isn't it?" she half-whispered, half-stated, her intuition already guiding her towards the right answer

"Maybe," he hummed noncommittally, enjoying the suspense.

With a gentle tug, Meerab loosened the drawstrings of the dustbag. The moment the vibrant red of the Capucines bag came into view, a delighted squeal escaped her, pure joy radiating from her. "It's even prettier now," she breathed out, her fingers tenderly caressing the exquisite leather, tracing the impeccable craftsmanship that spoke of timeless elegance.

"More excuses to wear red," Murtasim teased, his favourite colour on her.

Turning to face him, Meerab's giggles filled the room. She leaned in, planting a soft, grateful kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, a simple phrase that carried the weight of her gratitude and love.

"That was a very dry thank you," he teased back, feigning disappointment to elicit another reaction from her.

Her laughter rang out again, more vibrant this time, as she pressed a more deliberate kiss against his lips. "I'll give you a better thank you after opening the second box," she promised, her voice playful yet sincere.

His grin widened, drawing another round of laughter from her, the sound echoing in the room, wrapping them in a bubble of happiness.

As Meerab moved on to the green box, her actions were swifter, a tangible wave of excitement bubbling within her. The anticipation in Murtasim's chest grew as he watched her unveil the white bag she had fallen in love with the previous day, one called the Dionysus. Her reaction was pure elation, her voice lifting in a happy surprise, "You got the rectangle one!" The sheer joy in her voice warmed him from the inside out.

"You said the square one was too small," Murtasim said, she had only muttered it, but he had heard her.

Her laughter, light and carefree, filled the room, echoing against the walls and straight into his heart. It was the sound of pure happiness, a melody he'd do anything to hear over and over again. Meerab carefully placed the bag back into its box, treating it with a reverence that made Murtasim smile. She then turned towards him, a spark of mischief in her eyes that he knew all too well.

Suddenly, she was on her knees, and before Murtasim could even guess her next move, she launched herself at him. The surprise knocked him back onto the bed, a soft 'oof' escaping him as he landed, cushioned by the plush comforter. Meerab was quick to follow, a bundle of energy as she scrambled after him, her hands framing his face.

Her lips found his in a flurry of kisses, each one punctuated with an "I love you," her words a breathy litany that danced around them, filling the air with affection. Murtasim could only chuckle, the sound muffled by her kisses, as he wrapped his arms around her.

Murtasim tightened his embrace around Meerab, adjusting her position so she nestled perfectly against him. Her hair cascaded down, forming a soft, silken veil that enveloped them both, creating a private world where only their breaths and heartbeats resonated. "I'm glad you liked the surprise," he murmured, his voice low.

Meerab leaned in, her lips brushing his in a tender, grateful kiss again. "I love it. But you didn't have to, you know that right?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Shut up and just say thank you," Murtasim teased, his tone playful yet underscored with sincerity. He wanted nothing more than to see her happy, to shower her with all the love and gifts the world had to offer.

She giggled. "Thank you," she said, her gratitude echoing in the simplicity of her words.

"A better way to thank me would be modeling the lingerie we bought yesterday," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand drifted down her back to rest on her ass, giving a gentle squeeze that elicited a soft gasp from her lips.

Her eyes sparkled with mirth and affection as she playfully shook her head. "When we go back home," she whispered, leaning in for another kiss. "I don't want to unpack what we already packed." Another kiss. "But...right now, I can thank you in the shower," she breathed against his lips, her proposal sending a thrill down his spine.

"Murtasim!" she squealed with delight as he lifted her in his arms, and them off the bed, her laughter a melody that danced through the air. "What, I am taking you to the shower," he grinned.

He carried her towards the bathroom, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her kisses peppered across his cheek. "Don't drop me," she teased between the kisses.

"I got you, always," Murtasim reassured her.

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A/N: Soooooo, who wants to be Meerab? What was your favourite part of the chapter? And how do you think they'll learn why Meerab suddenly feels tired and doesn't like the smell of coffee like she wasn't begging for coffee for the last few chapters, hehehe.