Fated Love

Epilogue

The evening sun cast a warm glow through the windows of the khan haveli, creating a serene atmosphere that belied the storm brewing within Meerab's heart. She sat on the edge of their bed, nervously clutching the pregnancy kit in her hands. The two lines staring back at her were simple, yet they held the weight of an entire future.

As she heard the door creak open, her heart raced. Murtasim entered, his tired eyes meeting hers. He could sense something was amiss, but Meerab hesitated to break the news. The dreams they had shared about starting a family suddenly felt too real, and it overwhelmed her.

Murtasim noticed Meerab's distant expression, and concern furrowed his brow. "Is everything okay, Meerab?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Meerab bit her lip, wrestling with the words that now seemed to escape her. Finally, she sighed, "Murtasim, we need to talk."

He took a seat beside her, his eyes never leaving hers. "What's on your mind?"

She hesitated for a moment longer before revealing the pregnancy kit. Murtasim's gaze shifted to the small plastic stick, and his eyes widened in realization. Silence hung between them as Meerab anxiously awaited his response.

"Murtasim," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm pregnant."

Murtasim's face remained unreadable for a moment, his thoughts swirling. When the silence grew, Meerab's eyes started to water as she left a lump forming in her throat. "Are you not happy about it?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for reassurance.

Murtasim sensed the weight of his silence settling between them, understanding that it might have cast a shadow of doubt upon Meerab's heart. In a swift movement, he gently cradled her shivering hands in his, the warmth of his touch seeking to reassure.

As he took a deep breath, Murtasim's gaze softened with sincerity. "No, Meerab, it's not that. I am happy, truly. It's just... it's just that I'm scared." The vulnerability in his admission hung in the air, a confession wrapped in the honesty of his eyes.

Meerab's eyes widened in confusion, and she blinked back tears. "Scared? But why?"

Murtasim sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his admission. "I just—I know its stupid but I'm scared," Murtasim confessed, his voice carrying a raw vulnerability. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit that betrayed the depth of his unease. "that I might not measure up to the father our child deserves. After everything with my own father, I'm terrified of repeating his mistakes."

The lines etched on his forehead deepened, revealing the inner turmoil that Meerab had rarely seen so exposed. His eyes, usually warm and reassuring, now held a flicker of anxiety and self-doubt. The room seemed to close in as the shadows of his past loomed large.

Meerab, sensing the magnitude of his struggle, reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, offering silent support. "Murtasim, you're not alone in this. Whatever fears you have, we'll face them together."

He met her gaze, and for a moment, Meerab saw a flicker of gratitude mingled with the fear in his eyes. "I want to believe that," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But it's like this fear has taken root in me. I don't want to be anything like my father, and the thought of failing our child terrifies me. You deserve the best, and our child deserves a father who can provide that and I don't think I'm worthy enough for that,"

Meerab's heart ached for Murtasim as the pieces of his past fell into place. Although, the dynamics between Murtasim and uncle Shahnawaz had changed, yet the underlying fears of Murtasim still remained. She could sense the inner turmoil he grappled with, and with a soft sigh, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. The warmth of their connection was a balm, a silent promise of support that transcended words.

"Murtasim," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody, "You won't let us down, Murtasim. The fact that you're even worried about it shows how much you care. You're not your father. You're a kind and compassionate soul, and that's what our child will be blessed with."

She squeezed his hand a little tighter, a reassuring gesture. "We'll face this fear together, Murtasim. Our child will have a father who breaks the cycle, who shapes their world with love, not fear and insecurities." 

Murtasim's gaze softened as Meerab's words wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. Her reassurance was a salve to his wounded fears, and he found solace in the warmth of her understanding.

"You really believe that?" he asked, his vulnerability laid bare.

With a tender smile, Meerab nodded. "Absolutely, Murtasim. I believe in you, in us. Together, we'll learn, make mistakes, but each stumble will be a step toward something more profound. We'll create a family filled with love and understanding."

He nodded, a newfound determination shining in his gaze. "I promise to love you and our baby for as long as I live," Murtasim declared, his words carrying the weight of a solemn vow.

Murtasim's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and love. He settled in front of her, a quiet reverence in his movements. His hand instinctively found its way to her stomach, where the miracle of new life was quietly beginning.

With a gentle touch, Murtasim caressed the slight, yet inconspicuous curve, as if trying to connect with the tiny being that was growing within. His lips pressed softly against Meerab's stomach, a tender kiss filled with promises of protection, guidance, and boundless love.

"And I promise," he whispered, his voice a murmur against her belly, "to be a father who embraces every joy and weather every storm. I want to create a haven for our child—a place where they can explore the world, make mistakes, and always find love waiting for them at every step of their life."

In the intimate haven of their shared space, Meerab's fingers traced patterns through Murtasim's hair, a tender caress that spoke of promises whispered and dreams woven together. Her eyes, aglow with emotion, gazed down at him, the room steeped in a sacred stillness punctuated only by the soft murmurs of reassurance and love.

As the days unfurled into weeks and the weeks into months, Murtasim blossomed into Meerab's steadfast companion on this enchanting journey into parenthood. Their home transformed into a sanctuary where love flowed effortlessly, each passing day carrying with it the sweet anticipation of their shared love that awaited them.

Murtasim, attuned to Meerab's needs, would often take the time to give her soothing massages, his hands tracing gentle circles over her tired shoulders and feet. Murtasim, eager to become a devoted expectant father, delved into a realm of knowledge, devouring books on pregnancy, childbirth, and the art of parenting. In the quiet glow of their home, Murtasim would immerse himself in the written wisdom, eager to understand and stand unwaveringly by Meerab's side through every stage of their child's blossoming.

During moments of quiet connection, Murtasim's hands would cradle Meerab's burgeoning stomach. His fingers would gently trace the delicate curve where their little one was growing, creating an unspoken symphony of love. He would talk to their unborn child, sharing dreams, aspirations, and the boundless love that was already unfurling within him. The room echoed with his soft whispered words, creating a lullaby that seemed to wrap around both Meerab and the budding life nestled within her.

Under the night's tender embrace, Murtasim, beside Meerab, engaged in heartfelt conversations with their unborn child. His voice, a melody that resonated with love, became a constant presence, nurturing a bond that was destined to transcend the confines of Meerab's womb. Together, they explored the journey of parenthood, forging a connection that would lay the foundation for the family they were about to become.

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9 months later

Meerab sat there, a vision of radiant exhaustion, cradling a tiny, almost ethereal being in her arms as Murtasim entered the room. The air seemed to hum with anticipation, and with each measured step, Murtasim's breath, heavy and slow, echoed the gravity of the moment as his tried to calm his racing heart.

As he drew closer, his eyes fixed on the small miracle in Meerab's arms, a profound disbelief washed over him. The little bundle, with a nose resembling a delicate button, cheeks that mirrored Meerab's gentle curves, and eyes so small and doe-like, reminiscent of Murtasim's own gaze, felt like a living dream. The room was charged with an almost tangible warmth, the realization of parenthood enveloping them.

With tender curiosity, Murtasim extended his finger toward the small creature, whose minuscule hand instinctively reached out, wrapping around Murtasim's quivering finger. The touch, so fragile yet full of promise, created a connection that transcended words.

Overwhelmed with a surge of emotions, Murtasim, unable to contain the flood of feelings, felt tears welling up in his eyes. His gaze, locked onto the tiny being that now held a piece of his heart, reflected a kaleidoscope of emotions—awe, love, and a sense of responsibility.

As Murtasim gathered courage and extended his arms, Meerab looked up at him with eyes that mirrored the depth of their shared journey. With a soft, knowing smile, she handed their precious creation into Murtasim's waiting hands.

The weight of their child felt simultaneously monumental and delicate in Murtasim's arms. The reality of fatherhood settled over him like a gentle wave, and as he cradled the little one close, a newfound tenderness radiated from his touch.

Bending down, Murtasim pressed a tender, lingering kiss on Meerab's forehead. It was a silent tribute to the incredible strength she had exhibited throughout the pregnancy and a recognition of the profound love that had guided them to this cherished moment.

Witnessing this intimate display of paternal affection, Meerab's heart surged with gratitude and profound affection. She reached out, delicately intertwining her fingers with Murtasim's free hand. In this simple yet profound gesture, they forged a circle of unity, a tangible symbol of the bond that seamlessly enveloped the trio.

As the room settled into a serene silence, Meerab turned her gaze towards Murtasim, a soft smile playing on her lips. "What do you think we should name our little one?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Murtasim, cradling their newborn with a gaze full of adoration, took a moment to ponder. His eyes, a reflection of the depth of his emotions, scanned the delicate features of their baby. Finally, he spoke, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of certainty.

"Zayan," he uttered, his voice carrying a weight of significance.

Meerab looked at him, a silent question in her eyes.

"Zayan," Murtasim repeated, "It means 'beautifier' and 'graceful'. I want our child to carry a name that reflects the beauty he brings into our lives, the grace that defines his presence."

And just like his name, Zayan Murtasim Khan had indeed become the beautifier of his parents' lives. His presence was a constant reminder of the profound joy and grace that parenthood brought. As they looked at him, their hearts overflowing with love, Meerab and Murtasim knew that Zayan was truly the living embodiment of the name he bore—a true beautifier of their world.

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Okay so this is officially the end of "fated love." Now before you guys wonder why did they not have meesam, trust me I love her, but I wanted to show that how Murtasim would be a different father, unlike his own, and how he would break the toxic masculinity cycle so yeah. And i might write continued one shot, if i miss this meerasim too much in the future, but no promises🫣

Thankyou for all the love and appreciation. I hope you all like this as well🤍