...he looked at the entrance, then at his car, then the entrance again, back to his car, contemplating on who to be with.
"Aayan Muslim." Muslim called with a smile on his face as though the baby would answer as he picked him up from his crib besides his mother's bed in the hospital room.
He sat on the chair on the other side of the bed as he took in the features of their miniature–his and Jasmine's. He felt all giddy as it felt too good to be true–that he and the woman he loved with his all made his beautiful baby.
If they don't ever give birth again, their Aayan would be enough. Muslim felt pieces of Jasmine in Aayan by just holding him for the first time hours ago, and now, the feeling was stronger than earlier and it continued to get stronger with each glance Muslim gave his son.
It took Muslim forever, staring at the tiny human in his hold, his heart and body trembling at the thought that he was now a father to the beautiful baby and Jasmine, his mother.
Aayan appeared cuter than he and Jasmine had thought. He had Jasmine's slim nose and that was apparently the only facial feature Muslim could judge after the fact that he looked fair but not so fair. His eyes were closed so he could not say what his eyes precisely looked like and his lips were indecipherable in shape.
Jasmine sighed faintly, making Muslim to look up at her. He was expecting to see her smiling at them but she was averting her gaze to the ceiling above when he looked up at her, not squinting her eyes at the light, which meant she had adjusted to that probably seconds or even minutes ago.
He had no idea how long.
"Since when did you wake up?" Muslim asked as he stood up with a smile on his face–from ear to ear.
"About 30 seconds ago." Her voice came out with no trace of emotions whatsoever. "It felt like you haven't been here since."
Muslim walked to the crib at the other side of the bed to hide the insincerity on his face but it managed to slip through his voice.
"I have. Why did you say that?"
"I didn't feel your movement nor did I hear you talk."
"You were fast asleep." Muslim turned around and smiled at his wife after unnecessarily tucking Aayan in.
"I would've at least felt your presence you know." Jasmine let out a mirthless snigger.
Muslim saw Jasmine struggling to sit up when he quickly went to her side. "Careful. Just stay that way you'll hurt yourself." He held her shoulders.
"I'm tired of being in this position. Help me sit up." Jasmine's voice was faint and calm.
Muslim helped her sat as she bit her lower lip because the stitches were hurting a little more than just lightly.
Staring into his eyes, still emotionless, she felt him hug her as he bent a little to her level so that her head rested on his shoulder, whispering a ‘thank you baby’ in her ears.
"Thank you for this and well done. May Allah bless you. May Allah bless our Aayan. This is the most beautiful gift I've ever received and I can't–" he pulled from the hug to cup his wife's face. All the while, her hands remained on her laps, she didn't try reciprocating the hug. "–I can't thank you enough for this." He kissed her cheek and forehead then hugged her again. Tears filled his eyes as he bethought himself of the way she battled with her life just to bring Aayan to the world and make him a father.
"You did khutbah for Aayan and left only to come back few minutes ago. Why?"
Muslim didn't know what to say to her. He was planning to tell her everything later on and he wasn't ready to lie to her.
