AN AMBER HAZE GLISTENED around us, the night summer sky vast and the stars so close that it felt as if I could just reach up and brush my fingers against the shining pieces of beauty masterfully placed on the inky canvas. The moon, so near, yet so far, glowed a reddish-amber tone as the lunar eclipse approached an end that would arrive in a few minutes.
The moment felt so picturesque that breaking the spell almost felt immoral.
"Did you know that people sometimes describe solar eclipses as being like a hug?"
"Hmm?" Zayaan hummed, the sound vibrating warmly against my hair. "Why?"
"Because they meet for that painfully short period every two and a half years or so. It's almost as if the sun just asks the moon for a hug, and the moon says to the Earth, 'you have him every day. Just give him to me for five minutes. Five minutes and we'll go back to simply meeting whenever a day ends or begins.'"
"Like two lovers, united simply for a fleeting moment." I felt him smile, as his fingers slowly drew shapes on my wrist. "Maybe lunar eclipses are then just a way for the moon to mourn the distance of the sun, hiding in the shadow the Earth casts. It's almost poetic."
"You're poetic."
He chuckled. "Why, thank you. But I don't think my poetry compares to that of a celestial embrace between two cosmic beings."
I just smiled to myself. The man had such a way with words that all you could do was pause and think. But a thought struck and I turned around to glance up at him. The moon cast a shadow on his face, making his lashes seem stunningly long and it emphasised the hollows of his cheek and the perfection of his bone structure. "You know, I used to think of you as my sun."
His brows furrowed. "When? Why?"
"Before." I waved a hand. "Before got together. When I realised that I was falling in love with you. But I thought that my feelings were unrequited and so you just seemed so far away. So close, yet so near. You lit up my life, yet when I came close, you went further away."
"Eshgham, what are you talking about?" His grasp around my wrist loosened as he brought his hand up, his fingers brushing against my cheek. "You thought my love was unrequited? I'd been obsessed with you from the second you left the car in a heap of traffic to help the blind man cross the road. You didn't care about anything but his safety; not when the lorry was coming at you at full speed and you didn't regret it an ounce even when you had to go to hospital. The fact that someone this selfless, this compassionate, could exist just astounded me. Made me think that arranged marriages weren't too bad, after all."
I rolled my eyes, turning back around and leaning my head on his chest again to hide my smile. "I bet, if you could, you would make Laleh get an arranged marriage as well."
"A hundred percent," he said without hesitation. "I'd find the perfect groom for her. A husband who would be happy to stay with us and someone who would make her smile every minute of the day. Someone who doesn't make her shed a single tear."
"Why don't we slow down just a bit? Let her grow up first and then we can talk about weddings and grooms. She just learned how to say bâbâ and you already want to find her a shohar."
"It's good to be prepared, eshgham. Especially when it comes to Laleh."
I knew what he meant by that and I smiled, thinking of how she had just turned one — two weeks ago — and she was already wreaking up a storm every single time she opened up those sapphire eyes of hers. Just like Zayaan had wanted, our baby was born with eyes that were a replica of mine, except for the golden specks that glowed like the very sun in her irises. Sometimes, though, they seemed so bright that you could almost think her eyes were the exact hazel of her Dad's.
Our daughter was an angel — so perfect that I couldn't even believe she was real when I'd first held her in my arms and cried — but she was a troublemaker one at that. She loved to crawl and run around everywhere. Around the house, down the stairs until Zayaan had to install a gate to stop her roaming, in the kitchen where she opened random drawers and took out utensils she liked to play with, into her father's lap when he was working and into my arms, distracting me, when I was trying to tidy up the tiny little trinkets and gazillion toys she strewed around everywhere. She even managed a way to mess up laundry, playing around with the baskets of clothes when she was on her exploratory missions and messed around with the buttons on a running washing machine.
But it was difficult to be tired of her antics when she was so adorable that I wanted her to create more trouble so that I could constantly be around her. She would give me hugs in the middle of her baths when she was soaking wet, making my clothes soapy and wet as I returned them while smothering kisses all over her face, and she would raise her arms to Zayaan when he was cooking so that all he could do was laugh and lift her up, letting her babble along and stir the food, putting a bright grin on her face that we would do all that and more to see.
But her favourite person to chatter to and play with? Riyad.
She interrupted him more than the both of us, but the sweet boy never lost his temper, always entertaining her and pulling her into his arms as he patiently explained everything she was so curious about. He was almost eleven years older than her, but he would rather stay with Laleh rather than play games with his friends or go out with them. He was as amazing of a brother as he was a son and I couldn't be more grateful for our little family.
They were both sound asleep at the moment since it was past midnight and the thought suddenly made me yawn. I'd turned into such a grandma after having my daughter and I coveted every single minute of sleep I could get, turning in by ten — at the very latest, eleven — every night.
"Tired?"
"Mhmm," I hummed softly, suppressing another yawn. "Need my beauty sleep."
He chuckled fondly. "Come on then, joonam. We need to be up early tomorrow anyway."
"Crap, I completely forgot about that." The entire family was leaving for the countryside for the weekend, to our cabin slash country house on the outskirts of Tehran. The country life was completely different to the city and Riyad had been curious about it, and when he'd posed the idea after we'd arrived in Iran last week, Laleh had readily nodded, not understanding a word but always being a sidekick to her brother. And how could we refuse two of the most adorable children on Earth?
I stood, lending Zayaan a hand to get up from the lounge seat we'd been sitting on for over two hours. He grabbed it and straightened, pulling me closer by the wrist before lifting me up bridal-style.
I laughed, wrapping my arms around his shoulder as he carried me down from the terrace and through the almost pitch-black mansion to our room on the second floor.
"You think anyone else is up?" I whispered, watching the moonlight shining in through one of the windows in the corridor illuminate the sharp contours of his face. Six years of marriage and I'd never gotten over how beautiful this man was. And I never wanted to.
"Maybe Nezrin," he murmured back. "She's constantly stuck to her phone these days; I doubt the ungodly hour is enough to make her put it down."
"She's in love, Zayaan," I reminded wistfully, remembering what the initial days of falling in love were like. For me, it was more painful than anything. But for Nezrin, it was her first love and with God's will, also the love that would take a permanent place in her life. "She's getting engaged next month. You can't blame the girl for being excited."
"I can't no, unless it has detrimental effects to her health."
I hit his shoulder gently. "Don't be such a buzzkill. I'm sure she knows her limits and plus, Hamza is basically another version of every single man in your family. Protective to a fault and ridiculously kind. He'll take care of her."
"That's the only thing keeping me sane," he commented.
"You're perfectly sane, Mr Haidar. Nothing could ever ruin your calm."
"Ah, thank you, my darling wife. Your reassurance means everything to me," he said teasingly, words carrying an underlying tone of truth.
I pushed open the door to our room when we reached it and Zayaan pushed it closed with his foot, carrying me over to the bed and placing me down on it ever so softly, as if I was fragile porcelain that could easily break.
I pulled him down over me, wrapping my arm around him as he peppered small kisses up my neck, pausing when he reached my lips.
"You mean everything to me, Fatimah," he repeated softly yet firmly, mouth brushing over mine. "Every. Fucking. Thing. I hope you remember that, now and always."
And then he was kissing me and every single thought in my head bid adieu, soaring away.
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"GOOD MORNING, MY ANGEL," I whispered gently to a sleeping Laleh, who smiled unconsciously at the sound of my voice, slowly blinking her eyes open. The most adorable of dimples popped in her cheeks and she lifted her arms, allowing me to pull her sleepy body into my embrace. "Still tired, hayatım?"
She nodded into my neck, warm and soft, muttering something incomprehensible in her baby language. One thing about babies; you wanted them to sleep for an extra hour, they screamed from the depths of the lungs to stay awake but when you wanted them up and ready, they wanted back into dreamland.
I stood, carrying her over to the windows and drew the curtains open, allowing a heap of the morning light into the room that made Laleh raise her head and frown, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.
"Mama..." She sounded so disappointed that it pulled at my heartstrings.
"Don't be upset, baby," I consoled softly, smoothing down her chocolatey-brown curls. "We're going to the countryside today, remember? To see the horses?"
Just as I expected, her eyes lit up. "Horsie?"
"Yes, baby. Horsie." I nodded, walking into the bathroom where I quickly changed her and gave her a warm bath. Wrapping her up in a fluffy towel like a burrito, I took her over to the wardrobe and picked out two dresses. "Which one?"
She pointed at the white one with baby pink flowers and a two-layered skirt, perfect for the weather that was on the cusp of summer.
Blowing a few raspberries on her tummy just to hear her sweet giggle, I pulled her chosen dress over her head, guiding her arms through it and buttoned up the back.
The door clicked open just as I finished combing through her hair and placed a baby pink bow headband that I knew would mysteriously disappear in the next hour or so. We both glanced up as Zayaan walked in, baby bottle in hand, and Laleh jumped up gleefully at the sight of her father.
"Baba!"
He readily picked her up, smiling warmly and showered at least a dozen kisses over her face, making her squeal loudly and wiggle in his arms. "Good morning, my tulip flower. All ready to go see your cottage and horses?"
She nodded excitedly, rambling on about something that made Zayaan listen intently as if she were delivering world news. And even better, he responded with a surprised gasp.
"No way."
"Mhmm, baba." She danced around in his arms and I couldn't help but smile fondly, placing my chin on my palm as I watched the two of them. He settled on the love seat with Laleh, holding an arm over her back as he fed her the bottle, shirt sleeves rolled up, the golden brown of his forearms gleaming with the sunlight, veins as defined as ever.
My ovaries, seriously.
He could get me pregnant with a hundred babies and I would still ask for more.
As if he'd heard my exact thoughts, Zayaan looked my way with a knowing glance that got me all hot and flustered, making me look away immediately. This man.
I tried to focus on everything but the sudden tension in the room and my ears honed in on the patter of feet in the corridor that likely belonged to Riyad to check if Laleh was up. And if Riyad was going somewhere, then that usually meant Moon followed.
The little ball of snow was obsessed with our two children, constantly on their trail and forever a witness to Laleh's mischievousness. Laleh seemed to think Moon was her own personal toy, fiddling with her fur and clipping tiny bows onto her that the cat didn't even seem bothered by, haughtily accepting all the attention our girl lavished on her.
I'd told Zayaan countless times to stop buying Laleh all the ribbons and bows that she wanted, since it would only make Moon the subject of her poking and prodding even more, but one single puppy-eyed glance from her and he was a goner. She had him wrapped around her little pinky and I could hardly even blame him for it. After all, she had our entire family riveted with her, looking forward to her cuddles and giggles that were the epitome of sunshine.
The door cracked open and Riyad peeked in, green-hazel eyes turning up at the corners when he noticed us inside with an awake Laleh, bouncing in and taking a seat next to me as I shifted to make more room for him on the sofa.
I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "Morning, canım. Sleep well?"
He nodded, leaning his head against my side. "Did you eat breakfast?"
"Not yet. I wanted to wake Laleh and feed her so that we could eat and leave faster," I said, watching Moon saunter in and take a seat by Zayaan as Laleh stared at her, doe-eyed, unblinking. "Did you?"
"Yeah. Dad made waffles and I had that with some of the lavash and chai that Nafasat Joon made." He opened his palm out to me, holding out a peach that I hadn't even realised he was holding. "Here, I picked this from the garden for you this morning, Mum."
I smiled wide, taking the perfectly ripe fruit from him. "Aw, thank you, baby. I was wondering when we'd be able to pick the fruit the last time we came."
"Not for me?" Zayaan teased, having finished feeding Laleh and holding her up to burp her.
"There's a whole basket with the fruit, Dad," Riyad replied, unfazed. "You can get it yourself after giving Laleh to me."
I coughed to conceal my laugh at his response and at how predictable we'd become.
"Ah, I see how it is. The five-year-old who used to give me chocolate has now become the twelve-year-old who bargains with me."
I could tell Riyad was suppressing a grin. "Yeah, people grow up."
"Never too grown up for tickles though, right?" Zayaan stood just as Riyad jumped out of his seat, laughing, catching him before he made it to the door with one arm, both of them crouching down as Zayaan tickled his stomach. Laleh joined in, crawling out of her father's hold after watching the whole ordeal curiously, prodding at Riyad's face with her tiny little fingers. "Remember, asalam, I used to be your favourite once upon a time."
"You still are, Zayaan," I chimed in, trailing closer and kneeling beside them. "No favourites in this house, remember?"
"Exactly," Riyad agreed, grinning, slowly calming down once the tickles subsided. "You're all my favourite. My sister just a tad bit more, but I love you all equally."
Zayaan chuckled, drawing me closer by the shoulder as I pulled both of them to my chest, forming a group hug. "We love you too, Riyad."
I nodded my agreement just as Moon meowed, pushing her way into our circle, tail brushing over Laleh's face and making her sneeze.
I laughed. "And Moon agrees as well."
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LALEH BEAMED, CLAPPING, as Reza lifted her onto one of the horses — the most placid of the bunch — and held onto her with a steady grip. Nafasat watched her adoringly from beside me, carrying a basket of apples that she, Riyad and I had picked earlier to feed the horses.
"Always has an endless supply of energy, doesn't she?"
"Absolutely," I agreed. "A true extrovert at heart. The more people she's around, the more energy she seems to gain."
"She makes the place alive like no other, honestly," she remarked. "Every time the four of you leave, the house just becomes so barren. It loses all of its colour once the laughter subsides."
"Which is why I'm constantly telling you to come back to London, mādarzan. It would be great to have you back and the children will get to be around all of their grandparents."
"Na, azizam." She shook her head softly. "Our home is here. This country is where we are meant to be. England was always just a temporary notion, while our children grew up."
"But you can always come and visit," I said. "Always."
Her gaze softened. "Thank you, azizam."
I hugged her from the side, leaning my head against her shoulder as Riyad ambled past us to the horses, taking a few apples from the basket as he did.
"Laleh," he called, holding up the fruit. "Do you want to feed the horses?"
She paused in her patting of the horse's silky mane and blinked in confusion, so that Riyad then had to demonstrate what he'd meant. Nodding hastily, she turned to Reza, who lifted her off with a chuckle and retrieved the apple that Riyad passed over, and held onto Laleh's hand as she offered it to the mare.
We laughed when she shrieked as the horse's mouth grazed over her skin, but when she then burst out into tears, I winced and quickly rushed over.
Reza handed her to me and I took her into my arms, rubbing a hand over her back. "Shh, it's okay, baby. Don't cry, please. I'm sure she didn't mean to do that."
She sniffled, turning back to stare at the mare who watched her softly. But it seemed as though the horse's touch had really freaked her out when she whipped her head back around, blinking up at me with her tear-soaked lashes.
"It's okay, güzelim. Do you want to go back into the house?"
She shook her head, hiccuping softly, staring at something behind me. I knew before I'd even turned that Zayaan was walking up to us, taking away all of my daughter's attention.
His fingers brushed over Laleh's cheek, frowning in concern at the tear stains. "What's wrong, delam?"
"Horsie," she muttered, waving her fist around in explanation.
"I see," he said soothingly, reaching out to Riyad for another one of his apples. "I'm sure she didn't mean to make you cry, Laleh. They're just big and sometimes forget how small humans are."
He held his arms out to her and with nothing but trust in her gaze, she went to him, only tightening her grasp when they neared the same horse. "How about we give her another chance, hmm? We'll try again, nice and slow."
Nodding, she tentatively held the apple to the mare and this time, she barely grazed her skin, making Laleh beam.
Zayaan smiled. "Not so bad, right?"
She bobbed her head up and down in agreement, rosy-cheeked from excitement, and gestured to Reza to be lifted up onto her saddle again.
Zayaan took a step back, making sure she was safe and calm, before meeting my eyes. "Want to take a walk?"
I took the hand he offered, lacing our fingers together.
My mother-in-law waved to us as we passed, now holding the basket out to Riyad and Laleh, in conversation with her husband.
The late afternoon sky seemed to bathe the entire place, lush with greenery, in a warm golden glow. We walked along the winding dirt path, birds humming around us and the wind making the tree branches sway, making the pastel petals fall to the ground like feathers.
"We should really come here more often," I voiced. "It's so much more magical than the gloomy dull skies in London."
"Feels like home," Zayaan agreed. "Maybe when we're older, retired and grey, we can come back here. Settle. Make a living."
"You really need to stop reading my mind," I admonished, only ever amused anymore at how our thoughts seemed to mirror each other's.
"I only learnt from my sorceress of a wife, eshgham."
"Oh, yeah?" I raised a brow, slowly retracting my hand from his. "You think I can read your mind?"
"Absolutely," he said without hesitation, eyes dancing with mirth. "Tell me what I'm thinking right now."
I grinned, turning around so my back was facing the path we were walking ahead to. "How about you me catch first and then I'll tell you?"
I took off without giving him time to process my demand, cursing when I heard him follow after me barely two seconds later.
He caught me by the cherry blossom tree, weaving his arms around my waist and pulling me flush to him. Pink and white petals twirled around us, the soft zephyr of wind creating a confetti pool on the ground.
"These tricks don't work on me anymore, eshgham," he said. "I'll always catch you, remember?"
"And that's exactly what you were thinking." I gazed up at him, at his golden eyes so full of adoration and his perfection that even dreams couldn't comprehend. "You knew I was about to make you chase after me and you were thinking that you'd get me."
"I was actually thinking that I'd always be one step ahead of you, but close," he teased.
"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You'd never think that."
"Yeah? I've become that predictable?"
"Only in the best way. I can always just count on you to be there. To tease me, to love me, to be the best husband and father anyone could ask for. You make life beautiful in every way possible, and if our older days are here, then I'd be more than happy. I'd gladly follow you to the ends of the Earth."
Zayaan chuckled. "And there you go reading my mind yet again. Thank you, my love, for everything."
He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and I leaned into his embrace, warm and happy. Content.