Mehrem

37

Illiyeen

I was six months pregnant now.

My cravings have been the worst, but I am glad Umair is there to fulfill them, even at the most random hours. But I have been pampered by everyone. Especially Rayan, my devar, has been on my ass feeding me everything in Umair's absence.

Like one brother was enough to torture that the younger one had to join.

I was sleeping. It was more like twisting and turning when Umair walked into the room.

"Hello there," I said as he lay beside me.

"What's up?" He winked at me and kissed my forehead. "How's my baby?" Umair whispered against my lips. I smiled.

"Well, your kid is not letting me sleep." I touched my overgrown belly.

Umair shook his head and kissed my cheeks. "I was asking about my baby, not our baby."

I blushed and kissed Umair back.

"I am hungry." I declared, and he laughed.

"Come, let's feed you." He got up and helped me change into a dress. When I asked where we were going, he shrugged his shoulders.

After a ten-minute drive, Umair stopped the car.

There was a stall by the roadside accompanied by a few chairs here and there. It was a very secluded place, but I did not mind it. My stomach was making all sorts of noises.

Umair ordered food while I sat across from him, smiling.

How far have we come? I was sitting at a roadside with the man I love and our unborn baby.

Umair winked at me when he caught me staring at him. "You have not changed, Begum. From the first day I met you to now. You love to stare at me."

I scoffed and leaned back, "Well, I am the only one who can stare at you. You are mine, and I can do whatever I want."

"That you can." He smiled back.

A man came with our food—Classic Daal with pickles.

"You asked Mama?" I questioned.

When I was young, my mother would make a daal and serve it with pickles. Trust me, hot flatbreads, the taste was finger-licking. Rohan, Neha, her brother, Sid, and I would fight over the food.

"I did, and trust me, I thought of this place immediately," Umair said, and we dug in our food.

***

It was getting uncomfortable sitting or doing anything with an almost ninth-month-pregnant belly. None of my clothes fit me anymore. My bathroom trips increased by about 200%. I felt like my bladder would explode any minute, and the pain. Unbearable. We decided to move downstairs as walking up and down the stories was getting more complex.

"Umair," My voice cracked as I held onto the bathroom door.

"Haan." He yelled from across the room.

"I need you," I yelled back. And trust me, within two seconds, he was standing in front of me.

He helped me stand straight and walk back to the bed.

"Thank you," I mumbled in my most exhausted tone. Before I could process, Umair returned with an oil bottle and sat on the bed near my feet.

"What are you doing?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Massaging my dearest wife." He flashed his iconic smile. "Lay down, " he ordered, and I obeyed.