" Be sure there is something waiting for you after much patience. To astonish you to a degree that you forget the bitterness of the pain. "

a few months later

"Red is your colour. It always has been."

Ibrahim mumbled into her ear as he invaded her private space from behind, hooking an arm around her slender waist as his chin found refuge on her shoulder.

"You're saying other colours don't suit me?" Hemayal chuckled but leaned back into him nevertheless, her insides turning mush at the gesture.

"They do, but red does something to me." Ibrahim shrugged as he let go of her with a small kiss to the temple, turning her in his arms.

"You're a huge boost for me ego, Yazdani," Hemayal laughed, slapping him slightly on the chest in pure mockery before pulling back. "And...we're getting late."

"Nobody is expecting us, chill." Ibrahim stepped forward, hurrying to take her back in his arms but Hemayal easily slipped away with a grin adorning her flushed face.

"I hardly expect the sun will wait for us before setting. Hurry up!" Hemayal shot him a glare before turning to the vanity mirror to check her outfit for the last time, final touches of make-up adding to her exquisite features.

"Aghh, fine." Ibrahim groaned before disappearing behind the washroom door, clothes in hand.

When the work opportunity had risen in Karachi for Ibrahim, Hemayal had decided to tag along - hoping that the shifting of the environment and space will do good to her mind and that it did. Just a few weeks in the city and she could already feel the past slipping somewhere far away, a distant memory now rather than a haunting reality.

And for that, she had that infuriating, beautiful husband of hers to thank.

Ibrahim's patience with Hemayal was endless. A week after being discharged, she had shifted to his apartment in Islamabad and if it were not for his presence, she would have long ago spiralled down the depression lane. But it was him who kept her sane - the one who held her when she woke up from troubling nightmares, who shoved food down her throat when she refused to eat, and who told her lame ass jokes at three in the morning until she forgot all about her pain and began to laugh.

"Come, baby."

Ibrahim's voice pulled her out of the memory lane and she hurriedly followed him out of the room. The heels clicking against the marble floor as she locked the front door and entered into the elevator made Ibrahim look down at her with a frown.

"You're wearing heels again?"

Oops.

"Yeah, well, we still are going to dinner after the beach, no?" Hemayal batted her lashes at him and Ibrahim only turned away with a shake of his head, murmuring something along the lines of she's impossible under his breath.

Half an hour later, Hemayal stood barefooted on the cold sand, Ibrahim right beside her as they gazed at the descending sun with a sparkle of awe and love dancing in their eyes. Sighing contentedly, the brown-haired woman slipped her hand into her husband's, who, at the gesture, only smiled before squeezing her hold in reply.

"You're happy?"

This particular question Ibrahim had asked regularly since the day after their wedding. Her replies in the start had been dense silence until he'd managed to get small nods from her later on. Then, one night, huddled against him, she'd replied a small yes and God, she could still remember his reaction vividly.

"Yes." Hemayal whispered.

"Even when I get home late?" This time, there was mischief in his voice and Hemayal didn't hold back the laugh that tumbled out of her.

"Yeah, I get some me-time. Why wouldn't that make me happy?"

Turning, the darkness around them now spreading in shades, she faced her man with humor dancing in her eyes, a broad grin lifting her prominent cheekbones. Unconsciously, Ibrahim's fingers came to rest on her waist, directly above her wound - an act, Hemayal knew, was second nature to him now.

She remembered the first time he'd seen her wound, the ugly scar on her right waist just below the ribcage, while changing the bandage - how his breath had caught, how his lips had trembled. Later that night, she had woken up to his tears falling on her bandaged wound as he kissed it softly - again and again and again.

"Umm.." Ibrahim's thoughtful voice pulled her out of the sweet memory and she found him biting his lower lip in sheer contemplation. "Maybe because you love me a lot more than your supposed me-time?"

"Yeah, you wish."

A few months with this man and those three words still wouldn't come easy to her. For Ibrahim, however, they were a piece of cake - a molten lava at that. The number of times he'd repeated those words in her ear, she had no idea but one thing was certain - every time, her heart had frozen.

"So..." He pondered, going back to the topic as he crossed his arms over his chest, and a laugh erupted from Hemayal's lips again.

"What about when I infuriate you with my sleeping schedules?"

"Yeah, even then."

"When I don't let you drive alone?"

"Even then."

"When I wake you up in the middle of the night for... stuff."

"Even th - no." Hemayal blushed furiously as she smacked his arm and Ibrahim threw his head back in a rich laugh that only infuriated the woman more - and although her insides had warmed instantly, Ibrahim didn't need to know that. "Not then. Definitely not then."

"God, you can still blush, woman?" Ibrahim leaned towards her, the glint in his eyes making Hemayal's toe curl.

"Ibrahim, my dear, dear husband, shut up. We're in public, for heaven's sake." Hemayal narrowed her eyes but to no effect on Ibrahim who was still looking at her from under his lashes and doing terrible, terrible things to her heart.

"It's dark, baby, and there is literally no one around." Ibrahim reminded her, in that low silky voice of his, and Hemayal Khakwani's heart fluttered like a leaf.

"Yes, but, see ar-" She hadn't yet completed her sentence when an arm snaked around her waist and she was pulled roughly against a hard chest, a pair of soft lips coming to crash over hers.

Some other time, she would have melted in his arms. This time, she smacked the back of his head with her heels.

"Oww."

With a groan, Ibrahim pulled back, hand going over his head to massage the scalp, all the while glaring at his wife who had a sheepish smile on her face. "What was that for?"

"For public indecency act. You could be charged, you know?" Hemayal replied, stepping back from his embrace while patting his chest reassuringly.

"We could be charged." He reminded her, brows still furrowed.

"Hence the smack." The woman shrugged in response and the man, still rubbing his head, only nailed her with a glare - to no effect whatsoever.

"You're a royal pain in the ass." Ibrahim declared before gesturing to her to head back towards the parking lot.

"Well, I'll derive some comfort from the royal." Hemayal replied with a grin as she matched his steps.

The wind picked speed around them as they walked back - hand in hand - the moon peeking from behind the clouds to blow a prayer their way before scurrying back.

This time, the prayer was to be granted.

|¤¤¤|

it was such a heart warming feeling to write them again - feel their love, see their life.

honestly, i didn't want an epilogue, didn't want to disturb the ending but my poor, poor heart wanted a little more of this couple. so, here it is.

how did you think it was?

as for my next book, i've already written the first few chapters. it will probably be up a lot sooner than you think!

till next time,
salam!