Call Out My Name

The End

Ishaan's POV.

Life can be hard. Easy to say, hard to imagine. I never said it was hard and I didn't have to imagine it because I was living in misery way before my time comes. I woke up one day and my parents were gone and all I had left were few memories of the good times with them.

But, in the back of my head, I had buried a few precious memories that I had made with this one special girl. A girl with dark hair, a cheeky smile, cute rosy cheeks and a heart full of love. I had hoped she'd be in a happy place without ever hoping that our paths would cross again because my world would scare her.

Life was always shallow and dark. I wasn't able to find happiness in anything. I had met one girl and she was just a distraction to my thoughts. I didn't believe in happiness left alone love. The last thing I could ever imagine could happen to me was love. Despite the fact that it was the best thing that happened to me.

I'm not perfect and I am far from being the guy she dreams of. But, something changed in me when I got to know she was that girl. For a guy like me who strongly believed had no one left in this world—it was a shock. I did. I had a person left in this world that felt like family and home. My person. My Isha.

I gave her a thousand reasons to hate me. I betrayed her. I hurt her. I broke her trust. Things weren't always easy. But, in the end, this woman never left me. Yes, I had lost her once and then twice after that. However, she gave me the chance to gain her back. That was the greatest gift.

I was scared I'd lose her. Many times, I had thought my ways, what I do, how I am would scare her. I was wrong. She's the strongest woman I've ever known. She got to know her parents weren't her actual birth parents and yet she didn't let it break her. She's been through a lot yet her love has always been bigger and stronger. Beyond hatred, regret and pain—her love stayed the same.

When she touches me, I melt. When she holds me, I desire to never let go. When we pray together, I feel peace. Every second spent with her is a second I wish I could gain back because I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

Can such a woman hold such a power over me? Yes, she can. Isha can. She's a powerful woman and she is my woman.

As I see her giving birth to our baby boy, tears escape my eyes. I'm in awe, in disbelief. I'm afraid of the pain she is going through but I know that once this is over, she will be so happy. We will be so happy. We will be a great and happy family.

After birth, I wait a few minutes before walking back in and hugging my wife tightly.

"You did it" I whisper against her ear.

"We did it" She replies holding me back.

"Aslan is here" the nurse walks in with our baby boy.

Aslan. Our boy. Our son. We decided on this name because we wish for this boy to be as strong as his mother. Our little lion. He will be fearless and loved. I will teach him to be good, do good and respect his mother. I will teach him Islam. I will teach him all the things that weren't taught to me. All the things I learned the hard way, he will know. His dad will teach him.

His parents won't leave like mine. He will be a child with a complete childhood. Inshallah.

***

Isha's POV.

"Salam mama! What are you making?!" My beautiful little lion comes walking into the kitchen with his father hand in hand.

He talks a lot and asks questions all the time. When Ishaan and I argue, he appears in the middle and forces us to make peace and hug each other. He's my angel.

"Omelettes. Your favourite." I reply with a smile.

"Add a lot a lot a lot a lot of ketchup please mama!" He says taking a seat at the dining table.

I add him a ton of ketchup and then give him his food. Eggs and ketchup are favourites.

"Hey you," Ishaan sneaks behind me wrapping his arms around my waist before kissing my neck.

"Ishaan, stop—it tickles" I chuckle.

"What is this scent...seriously it's like drugs to me. Actually, you. You're my drug." I raise my brows with wide eyes turning to him.

"Ishaan, don't say such things around our son." I reminded him.

"I didn't feel your lips on mine this morning...how dare you not kiss me good morning?" He says instead.

I grab his face in my hands and give him a kiss. Then, I try to pull away but he doesn't let me. Eventually, I pull back and he starts kissing my neck again fiercely. I can't help but giggle and laugh.

"Baba? Why is mama laughing like that?" Aslan asks.

"Because mama loves me and when you're in love, you laugh a lot" he says.

Aslan giggles and cheekily smiles.

After having breakfast all together, we went for brunch later on with my parents. They really wanted to see Aslan and he loves his grandparents a lot. Our weekends usually consists of at least having family gatherings once.

Because time is short and precious moments like these might not last forever. Ishaan and I, we wanted families to stay strong together and we wanted our child to have everything we couldn't have. Actual parents, a good childhood and quality time. We're working on it and every step we take forward is an accomplishment.

And with all that, the best part is the way our love only kept getting stronger. He has never stopped loving me and so did I.

People tempt to get afraid. It's human nature to doubt and fear. I gained weight, got acne, I couldn't do most of regular chores before and after birth. Ishaan never once left my side. He never once made me feel like a burden. He never once proved me wrong to have given him a chance. He didn't give me a chance to feel insecure.

Not all stories end good after betrayal. It's hard to overcome everything and trust again. But, our story is one of a kind. I realized that this is my fairytale, my love story. Everyone has their own and to each it's the best and the purest.

Ishaan and I understood long ago that separation would only bring us closer to one another and that loving each other would only make us stronger than ever.

Meeting him might have been the greatest gift of life and now, having a family with him has become a dream of mine I never knew I had come true.

***

The End.