Nusayba

Epilogue

Epilogue

"Bhabi!" Irfaan and Yasmeen yelled excitedly. Irfaan's wife stood beside him. No longer was he a gangly 19-year-old teenager. He had filled out since and was even taller and broader than Aamir. His beautiful wife was a thin, petite waif of a girl, always smiling under her husband's arm. Unlike Aamir, Irfaan readily and happily married his wife when he was 21 years old.

"Bhabiiiiiii!" Yasmeen cried as she hugged her sister-in-law tight, mindful of the baby that she was currently carrying. Running behind Nusayba and Aamir were two little boys, kicking up sand and stones in their midst.

"Oh, sure, forget about your brother. It is not like he is the one who wanted to come for your wedding, Yasmeen," Aamir said rolling his eyes. Laughing, Yasmeen hugged her brother and kissed his cheek as Irfaan ran after his nephews.

Ayesha, Irfaan's wife happily greeted Aamir and Nusayba, hugging Nusayba just as excitedly as Yasmeen. "Where is Hamza?" Aamir asked Ayesha.

"Your nephew is terrorising his grandparents inside. He will be excited to see his cousins."

"Are you having a boy or a girl?" Yasmeen asked Nusayba as she helped her sister-in-law walk. It was a risk for Nusayba to have travelled from South Africa to India, but Nusayba insisted on it. She was staying for three months in India, this time since she was due in a month. Aamir had argued and argued with her to stay, for them not to attend the wedding, but Nusayba felt that it was imperative to be there for Yasmeen's wedding since Irfaan and Yasmeen had been instrumental in assuring that they ended up married.

"We decided not to know the gender of the baby," Nusayba smiled apologetically. "We already have Yusha and Imraan, so we are happy. This baby will just be another blessing."

Ayesha and Yasmeen smiled at her warmly. "Can you get inside the house now, please?" Aamir said as he put a hand on Nusayba's lower back to guide her inside.

She pulled her face at him and stuck her tongue out as she shook her head. "Nope, I'm talking to them."

He lifted an eyebrow at her. Nusayba pouted. "Fine, I will go inside," she conceded.

Lovingly, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered. Then straightened and looked at her in her eyes and said, "I love you."

She beamed and leaned into his chest. "I know," she mumbled, "I love you, too."

At thirty-two, Nusayba was content with her life. She had an adoring husband, two beautiful little boys; Yusha was six years old and Imraan was four-and-a-half years old. Both were already starting with their hifz. She could ask for nothing more, other than that her last baby be born healthy and all of her children grow up being flagbearers for Islam and that they live their life being mindful of their actions. That they grow up to be kind, considerate and serving Muslims. She pressed a hand on her huge belly as she turned and looked at Aamir. "Hmm?" he grumbled out, knowing that she was looking at him.

"Nothing," she whispered. "I love you. I didn't mean to trouble you."

Aamir turned over and laid on his back. His thick, black hair was messed, standing in different angles, his eyes were half-closed. With a pregnant Nusayba, he barely slept deeply, he was always worried about her, always concerned that she was doing too much. She just wanted to be Superwoman and do everything by herself. He lifted himself on one elbow and kissed her cheek. "I love you, too, my angel, but what is bothering you?"

"Nothing," she replied, smiling even as she turned her head and rubbed her nose against his.

"Nunu," he dragged out. "I know something is bothering you. Otherwise, you would have been asleep." He took his free hand and rubbed it over her tummy, gently massaging circles.