Tapish تپش

eight

Life was not short of being blissful after that fateful night. The night that washed away all the gile-shikwe between the spouses.

Rayyan had shifted his entire schedule to focus around Duaa and his baby. His jaane jigar. The reason of his life.

Duaa had given into her love and forgiven Rayyan wholeheartedly. She held no resentment towards him now.

The months they spent apart had taught them important life lessons. There were many things they learnt, but not taking each other for granted was paramount.

They knew what life was without the other in it, and didn't have the courage to relive that phase again.

Duaa was now well into her eighth month of pregnancy and her emotions were all over the place. Rayyan did his best to fulfil all of her demands which were quite reasonable if you think about it.

All her nightmares had ebbed away due to the presence of her husband's arms around her and their baby, shielding them away from all harm.

Her protector. Her pride. Her honour. Her guroor! Rayyan was all that and more for her. She had fallen in love with him even deeper than she was before.

His gentleness reserved only for them, his love and possessiveness for her and their baby, his alertness to her smallest discomfort; everything made her crazier in love.

He was a mere mortal, and everyone makes mistakes. But that one mistake doesn't change their entire persona and Rayyan was so much more than his transgressions.

They were now sitting in their sun room. She loved this place. It had everything to thrive life. Fresh air, huge glass windows allowing the sun to come in, protective blinds to shade them just enough and plants. Lots of it. All kinds of it.

After witnessing her growing attachment to this room, Rayyan had an entire library installed along with some comfortable furniture- a barcalounger, a couch and a setee. All made to provide utmost comfort for his wife.

She loves to curl up on the couch with a book in hand, reading it aloud for their baby. It was a precious sight to watch.

Right now they both were laying down on the setee, with her tucked safely in his arms, him caressing her baby bump and her reading aloud a book for them.

Their baby was an active participant. He responded when his mother gave him incentive and they laughed along at his antics.

Rayyan was feeding her fruits every few minutes and making her sip her flavoured water so as to keep dehydration at bay. She loved their quiet time.

His family, now theirs had promised to visit as soon as her due date was near and this time around even Agha Jaan was well enough to travel. He wanted to be present for the birth of his family's next generation.

Duaa was ecstatic. Having none of this while growing up and now suddenly having a horde of people she can call her own,had her overwhelmed.

Tears started to pour out at the thought of all the love she, they; were at the receiving end. Her and their baby were lucky to be a part of this clan.

Having no clue of his wife's state of mind, Rayyan was flabbergasted at seeing her cry so unabashedly. He worriedly turned her around and cupped her face.

"Duaa, darling, what is it? Is it paining? Is it the baby? Should we take you to the doctor? Is it me? Did I do something to hurt you? Please talk to me sweetheart, you're scaring me."

Despite Duaa reassuring him a thousand times about her forgiveness, Rayyan was adamant on repenting. All his life. He wouldn't let it take over his life but he won't forget it either. It will always keep him grounded.