Izzat An-Nisa (Pakistani Short Stories)

Naz Part 3 🌹 (Final)

Rukhma pressed the back of her hand against Zarrar's forehead. His fever had gone down but she was still restless. Yesterday, she had convinced him to take her out for ice cream late at night and he had obliged, getting her a big cup of the sweet delicacy and endless toppings. They had talked as they sat in the car and she had spooned her share into his mouth as he drove, his anxiety making it so that they didn't stand in a deserted spot lest something happened.

Her poor husband had caught a cold. She felt guilty as she sat besides him, massaging his temples which he had complained of aching when he'd been awake an hour ago. It was late at night now and the whole day had been spent between his mother and wife barreling around him and taking care of him.

Rukhma's heart thumped loudly. Tooba had gone to bed and she was all alone in the villa, her one companion out like a light and she felt this fear rise up in her throat.

Ya Allah, mein kabhi bhi inke bina nahi reh sakti.

A lone tear slipped down the slope of her cheek and she brushed it away, sniffling slightly. Zarrar shifted, his eyebrows furrowing and forehead wrinkled. Rukhma leaned forward to place another cool towelette onto his forehead and grabbed his hand, holding it in her lap and tracing the smooth skin.

"I'm so sorry, Zarr. This is all because of me. I shouldn't have insisted." Rukhma's wobbly voice reached Zarrar's sleepy ears but he didn't budge, his bones aching from the fever.

Lips he had grown familiar with touched his cheeks and then his nose as a hot tear fell onto his face. "I love you so much."

Zarrar's eyes fluttered open as he saw his wife rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she cried softly. Her words rang in his head and he felt as if he might have dreamed them. They'd been married for six months now; each day bringing them closer to each other. Their morning when they'd wake up entangled and then dress and have breakfast together before going off to work. How she'd be waiting, getting off of work before he did and ready to hug and kiss him hello each day. Zarrar's temperament had evened out, she made him calmer than he had ever been. And Zarrar's care and affection erased the fears that arose in Rukhma's heart.

But he'd never told her how much he loved her. And she had beaten him to it.

"Kyun roh rahi ho, Rooh?" Zarrar's croaky voice reached her as she looked up with tears blurring her vision.

"Apko aise nahi dekh sakti mein!" She cried out loud and he chuckled tiredly, pulling her onto his chest and kissing the top of her head.

"Kuch nahi hua mujhe. Bilkul theek hoon. Khabardaar royi." He soothed her, feeling relaxed under the weight of her body.

She cupped his face and pecked his lips once, twice, and thrice. "I'm sorry Zarrar. It's all my fault."

He sighed. "Rukhma tumne kuch nahi kiya. Mujhe bas thori si thand lag gayi. Ab rona bas karo. Mere dil ko taqleef hoti hai. Tum jaan ho meri."

Rukhma sobbed more hearing this and Zarrar pulled her back onto him, being sick but taking care of her as she relayed her worries to him. If there was one thing he had learned that night, it was that this stranger that he'd never truly known had become the most precious person in his life. And that she loved him just as much, to the point where her heart hurt when he did. He felt so incredibly lucky.

///

"Chai." He held out a mug to Rukhma who was reading a book, her legs propped up onto the chair underneath her, a thick shawl wrapped around her.

"Shukriya." She grinned up at him and took her mug as he sat besides her on the outdoor couch. It was another dark starry night and they were enjoying it in the backyard.