"You're going to be my present and my future. You're going to hold all my babies because I'm going to be the lucky man to marry you. You're going to love me again, Maryam Khan. Slowly and then all together. And I will watch you as you do."
Imran and...
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The next time open my eyes, I see Saira baji in front of me. I blink and try to clear my vision when I notice her sitting on something lower than the usual height of a chair. With the light seeping in, I could take a better look at my surroundings and also the look on baji's face. The pregnancy glow I remember seeing on her is just. . .gone. She looked exhausted, the smile on her face did not reach her eyes, which were in fact hollow.
"Baji, aap. . ." My gaze falls on her belly which suddenly seemed flat. "Aap--" My tongue felt heavy to move, my throat had become dry, voice croaky.
Ya Allah! Please let it not be what I'm thinking it is.
I attempt at swallowing again. "Aap--" But no word rolled off my tongue.
Please, no. Please, no. Please, no.
I don't want to be the reason for another miscarriage.
I start to shake my head. "Ju- Junior?"
Out of nowhere, the door of my room swings open and Mummy walks in holding something, or rather someone in her arms. She had a smile on her face as she ambled towards me. I could only look at the baby's face when mummy sat on the stretcher by my side.
We've all been waiting for this moment ever since bhaiya and baji announced they were pregnant. But, I never thought I'd be broken, physically and emotionally to hold my niece in my arms. I knew what my blurring vision meant, and I was not going to faint.
A chuckle leaves my mouth, and I gazed at Saira baji.
"Muskaan." She says.
"Muskaan," I repeat under my breath, tracing her cheek with the tip of my finger. She stirs in her sleep but doesn't wake up and settles down instantly.
"Daddy rakhe?" Both the ladies nod their heads in response.
Now, time for some conviction.
"You weren't due now." The way her smile froze in place left me feeling ashamed. Did she really not think I would know that Muskaan was a premature baby? This, good or bad, is all on me. Me.
I am the problem.
"Allah jab dena hai jabhi dete. Nothing is your fault, okay?"
"You said it yourself." I flash her a sad smile and look away from the pained expression she gave me.
"Imran, aysa nahi bolte baba." Mummy tried to console me, placing a hand on mine. "Muskaan is a healthy baby, Alhamdulillah. Saira is also fine. Sab theek hai, sirf ab aapko theek hona hai jaldi se."
