Rubab's pov
I woke up to pray Fajr when my gaze fell on my husband, who is sleeping soundly on my midriff like it's some kind of cushion.
His beard is tickling me because he is sleeping on one side with his face facing my front.
My muscles are sore, more like numbness, because of sleeping in the same position.
I took my hand and shook his shoulder, but he is sleeping like a log.
Ugh, he is becoming a deep sleeper like me, but I hate it.
I shook his shoulder again, but he only nuzzled his face on my bare midriff in his sleep.
Taking a frustrated breath, I pull his hair slightly, but still no response.
He must be playing with me; he is not that heavy a sleeper. He would wake up easily with just a single ray of sunlight or footsteps.
So I chose to play my part.
"Ah, I can't feel my midriff; my body is aching madly," I fake cried.
He immediately got up from my belly and looked towards my face, worried.
And I burst into laughter.
He shot me a glare, and I pretended to control my laughter.
Hearing the azan, we both stood up and prayed together after freshening up and making ablution.
**
"Let me make something for you," I begged, because Taha fired all the servants, thinking Mamu wants to make him feel low.
I didn't object because I want him only in this cozy little castle-like home.
"No, I will make breakfast for both of us," he replied.
"But why?" I asked, irritated.
"As much as I know, you don't know how to cook, and I am in no mood to die on the first day of our wedding because of food poisoning," he said, narrowing my eyes in annoyance.
"I will cook watching a YouTube tutorial," I fired back.
He arched his left brow and said, "Do you really think everything shown on the internet is real?"
I was about to reply when he suddenly pecked my lips and said, "I will make breakfast. End of discussion," then kissed my lips lightly and walked towards the kitchen.
I was about to walk behind him to give him company when my phone buzzed.
Taniya aapi's message this early? I thought to myself.
I opened the inbox and my heart ached reading her message, "Bhabhi... We are leaving for California..."
I frowned.
Just then, his voice came from the kitchen, "Will you drink coffee or avocado juice?"
I cleared my throat, my sixth sense telling me something is wrong with Shoaib bhai.
"Habibti," he called again.
"Avocado is better with some garlic bread," I replied cheerfully, because a mere change in my behavior ain't going unnoticed by him.
And right now, I am still not sure about my overthinking.
Taha's POV
"It's been a week since we arrived in Izmir. Every day, I've been searching for work, but no one wants to hire me without any documents.
Ah, documents... I have a bucket full of them with various names, but they're not here.
It's been a week, and I'm returning home without a job every single day.
My camp partner keeps calling me countless times to come and work, but I'm determined not to earn blood money through unethical means.
As I reached home, I entered without knocking, using the spare key.
Yeah, Abraham Ahmed really added double security here, which is irritating.
"Habibti," I call out as I walk down the hallway.
But as my steps approach the open kitchen, I cough, feeling a harsh aroma.
Then, my gaze falls on Rubab, coughing and stirring something in the pan, from which the harsh fog is emanating.
She's wearing a plain pink suit with her hair tied in a loose bun and a dupatta around her waist.
I walk towards her and turn off the stove while coughing.
"Habibti... "cough.
"Taha... I'm just" coughing.
I lead her to the hallway and make her sit on a table, and as I glance at her hand, I notice it's badly burnt, likely from the hot oil.
My blood boils at the sight of the injury on her delicate skin.
She notices my gaze and then speaks, hiding her burnt hands on her lap.
"Taha, let's eat dinner , I am hungry," she said, standing up when I grabbed her elbow.
She understood my words via eyes and started speaking.
"Actually, it gets burnt when I put kebab in oil while watching a YouTube tutorial," she meekly said.
"This much oil burn while frying kebab?" I asked.
"No... I made some other dishes too. It got burnt when I accidentally grabbed the hot pan in a hurry," she said, showing her left hand.
"And who the hell told you to cook?" I asked angrily.
Tears welled up in her green eyes upon hearing my angry voice.
"I want to cook for you. I feel bad when you come home all tired and cook for me," she replied, controlling her tears.
I stood up without saying anything and took out a first aid box from the kitchen counter.
She stared at her lap aimlessly while controlling her urge to cry.
I took her burnt hand in mine from her lap.
She was still gazing downward.
I applied cream to her burn while blowing on it.
I know how much it hurts, she hissed as soon as the cream came in contact with her skin.
Her tears fell on her hand, which did not go unnoticed by me.
"I just want to make good food for you," she mumbled when I didn't say anything, applying reliever to her other hand.
I remained silent.
Putting the cream back in the box, my gaze met hers.
She was crying, and I hated it when she cried.
"I want to be a good wife, Taha. Please don't get mad," she pleaded.
"Good wife? For God's sake, she is already a good wife," I thought to myself as I remained silent because I wanted to show my anger.
My heart burned with pain seeing her delicate palm covered in aabley , all because of me.
"Taha..." she said again, her voice cracking.
I took her in my arms without saying anything.
She gasped at the sudden action but remained silent.
I held her safely as she couldn't hold onto my neck right now.
Taking her to the room, I made her sit on the bed, which she did.
I came out of the room and marched towards the kitchen.
My eyes fell on the pan with oil and burnt spices.
Allah, why is she preparing tadka? Did she make some Indian dish? Of course, she is half Indian as well.
Removing the lids, I looked into the kebab, naan roti, and butter chicken, which were indeed left without tadka because she burned the spices.
Opening the last pan, I took out jeera rice .
I internally smiled seeing her efforts for me, but my mood soured remembering her red, rash-covered palm.
I took a good amount of all the dishes and arranged them on the tray, then walked towards our room.
"Eat this," I said, taking a morsel to her mouth.
She ate it without saying anything.
I hate it when she cries, and my blood boils when the reason is me.
"Taha, are you angry with me?" she asked after eating the 4th morsel.
I shook my head because my anger would hurt her more.
"I am sorry. I just want to cook for you so you don't have to cook in a tired state," she mumbled, looking into my eyes.
Her green orbs are the sole reason for my destruction.
I forget my anger upon meeting her pearl-like eyes shining with tears.
I grabbed her cheeks and said, caressing her delicate cheeks, "Jaana, I am used to it. What do you think, do we have some chef in our terrorist camp?"
"No, we make food on our own no matter if we're tired, injured, or bleeding everywhere," I said.
"But you are not in a terrorist camp anymore," she replied, playing with my back palm smearing my back with cream too.
She is rubbing my popped-out veins aimlessly.
"I just want to cook for you like every wife does," she said, looking into my eyes innocently.
"Habibti, what will happen if I cook for you?" I asked, tugging some strands behind her ears, as they are disturbing my caressing on her cheek.
"I will be a bad wife," she replied.
"My love, it's all stereotypes we make. There is nothing like what you are thinking. I am older than you, so there's no problem if I cook for you. And about being a bad wife, you are my lucky charm, understood?" I said, pecking her nose.
"But I want to cook for you," she said with a pout.
"Alright, if you want to cook for me, then first learn by watching me how I cook so next time you don't have to watch a tutorial," I explained.
"You will teach me?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes, I will teach you how to cook, but don't you dare think of troubling yourself because of me," I said.
She nodded happily.
"Now eat this before I eat you," I said.
She hit my chest playfully.
Eating peacefully, we both are laying on the couch near the balcony with her head on my chest and my head on the headrest of the couch.
"Taha... Taniya aapi leaves for California," she informed.
I frowned hearing her.
"Is everything alright, biwi? Why did they go too early without informing?" she asked.
"She messaged me in the morning," Rubab replied.
"Taha, I am not getting good vibes from Shoaib Bhai," she said further
"Hm... me too," I replied.
"We will divorce Taniya aapi if Bhai mistreats her or cheats on her with Shreya," she said, looking towards my face.
"She had this option when Abraham Ahmad asked her before Nikah," I said, rubbing her forearm.
"She still has this option. We will get her a divorce if he hurts her or is disloyal to her, and then marry her off to someone who adores her," she replied.
"Hmmm..." I hummed, kissing her hair.
"And what if she doesn't want to get married again? I asked out of nowhere.
What's wrong with us? Why are we even discussing this?
"Then she will live with us happily forever," she replied.
*******
Shoaib Malik
Taniya Aasif
🥲🥲🥲
Shreya Malhotra