Nawal sat in front of her laptop and was chewing the end of her blue pen in a pensive manner, "But Salman being active on social media would create our presence not only in the eyes of the suppliers but also our end user customers."

Salman contemplated, "It would be too much work."

Nawal slowly shook her head and pointed her finger at the laptop screen, "No it won't, leave that to me. Let me start on Twitter and then we see which other social media to be active on."

Salman slowly rose from his office chair, "Alright and I will have the marketing team start analysing the impact of this online marketing strategy."

Nawal pushed the chair back from the desk in the home office and stood up, "I was thinking you can arrange a meeting where I could attend and we can discuss with other marketing heads."

It had been a month since Nawal gradually started working on the marketing strategy for Salman's company. For the time being, they had decided it was most optimal for Nawal to work from home as Rania was barely 6 months old. She had been working on a marketing campaign that would enhance the brand image of the company. Salman was impressed to see Nawal's dedication and he had motivated her as she worked day and night.

Salman reflectively nodded, "Alright I will get the time set for the meeting just let Ammi know she will need to mind Rania while you are at the meeting."

"Yeah, don't worry. Bechaari, Khala never says no."

Salman smirked, "This reminds me, it is Friday night. Let's go out for late night coffee and desserts and Ammi can mind Rania again," he winked.

Nawal's cheeks turned warm remembering the last weekend when on Salman's insistence they had gone for a weekend getaway leaving Rania with Seema. It was more like their belated honeymoon, well more like a weekend romantic trip where they had gone to County Clare staying at a hotel by the Atlantic Ocean. It was a freezing cold in the middle of December and they had spent most of their time indoors or let's just say in their room. It had been a memorable weekend, albeit short. Salman had promised that there will be more planned weekend retreats as Rania grows older and she could stay for a longer period with Seema. Nawal had no complaints, she was stressed as it was when it came to raising Rania. Although, over the months her anxiety over the baby had reduced considerably. That too was due to Salman reassuring her countless times as to what a great mother Nawal was.

"No not today. Rania was cranky in the afternoon. Khala said she seems to be teething. I don't want to leave her when she isn't well."

Salman sighed, "Why do I feel Rania comes before me?" he muttered.

Nawal chuckled, "Don't complain." Her eyes sparkled then as she thought out loud, "Let's watch a movie. You can pick whatever you want to watch on Netflix and Rania and I will accompany you."

"You really know how to negotiate. You win then, I will be happy with a movie and my girls."

Nawal rounded the desk and stood in front of him, "I have learned to understand you."

"And I am impressed. Now why don't you make some popcorn for us while I select a movie," he lightly pressed Nawal's arm.

It was an hour later, where Nawal and Salman were snuggled in bed watching an action movie. In the last month, on Nawal's persistence, Salman had got television for their room. Their movie nights were becoming a routine now. Rania was asleep in her cot oblivious to the noise from the movie. Salman glanced at his wife on his side and sighed. Rania wasn't the only one who slept during the movie. Apparently, Nawal only watched half of the movie before she would fall asleep. She always argued that she was exhausted. Salman knew better Nawal didn't prefer to watch action movies. Whereas Salman couldn't stand the romantic or romantic comedy that Nawal watched. There had to be some kind of compromise between them and so Salman never was angry when he noticed she was asleep.

Tonight, unlike other nights, he switched off the television as soon as he realized Nawal was asleep. He stretched on his side of the bed and gazed at Nawal's sleeping face. How much they had gone through in the last a year and a half. No matter how difficult times were Allah had planned it better eventually bringing them closer.

He shifted in bed, turning to face Nawal. She opened one eye and sleepily gazed at him, "You aren't watching the movie?" her voice deepened because of sleep.

He shook his head.

She rubbed her eyes, "I am awake... put it on again."

He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, "It's okay. I am tired as well. Go to sleep."

"Hmmm..." her head rested against the rhythmic of his heart and she was asleep in mere seconds.

He had liked her as a teen boy and today she was the woman in his arms. All distrust, anger, and misunderstandings had vanished between them.

His hand lazily stroked her back and he smiled against her hair in the darkness.

She was his and he was hers.

She was the spark in his dull life,

And he hoped he was her strength in good and bad times.

But would this new found love and trust will stay strong and firm against all adversaries?

****

In the darkness, Susan hastily clicked on the ringing phone. The phone's bright screen subsided as the alarm turned off. She vigilantly moved from the bed so that Daud don't wake up. A smile touched her lips as she glanced at her son who was fast asleep in the toddler bed. She made her way to the ensuite to perform ablution (wudu) for the early morning. In the cold mornings, it was difficult to wash arms and feet. But she always reminded herself she was far better than others who were sleeping in cold and didn't have warm water to wash up. Allah had blessed her with a warm household that was filled with the laughter of her son and the love and support of her husband.

In the last couple of months, Susan had experienced a new kind of bliss that was alien to her. Losing her parents at a young age and a brother who didn't bother to keep in touch, she was always a loner until that night when she met Daud. She was blessed with the gift of their son as the result of that night and today after nearly four years, his father had finally reconciled with them to be part of the family.

Daud was going back to work. Life had fallen into a routine where she didn't know how time was passing so fast. All she knew was that Daud was beyond her imagination. She had a hunch he wasn't as irresponsible or terse as he seemed and with time she was learning he was much more. He spent his evenings with their son playing one game after another. On weekends he would cook them brunch and they would go out on family outings. The nights were a celebration of their love where Daud did his best in keeping her busy. He might not have professed his love, her heart believed it whenever he went out of the way to do something for her whether it is to call several times in a day to ask how she was or how his face would lit up when his eyes landed on her after coming back from work.

She had many blessings to thank Allah for which is why she sat for many minutes on the musalla (prayer mat) reciting azkar and thanking Allah for indeed He was the Most Gracious and Most Merciful.

In the dimly lit living room, Susan sat on the prayer mat reciting after the fajr prayer when she heard noise coming from the bedroom. She turned to look at the source of the noise. She gaped in surprise to see Daud was awake this early. His arms and hair were slightly damp.

Frowning, he scratched the side of his temple and then asked in his sleepy voice, "I know I shouldn't be asking this but how many rakah do Fajr prayer has?"

Her heart beat accelerated as she answered his question, "Two."

He nodded at the prayer mat, "Are you done?"

Hastily, she stepped back from the prayer mat. And then for the first time, she saw her husband pray salah. In that moment, tears slid down her face when he went down in sujood (prostration).

Indeed, Allah listens to the believer's plea.

****

Nawal tightened the laces on her shoes and carefully stood up balancing on the skates. Her eyes glimmered with excitement. How long had it been since she had done this?

Impatiently, she crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, "How long are you going to take?"

"I am ready my dear impatient one," Salman rose to his six feet height.

"It's about time," Nawal muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he grabbed her hand, and laced his fingers through hers, "So now it's been ages since I have done this. You will need to help me out ok?"

Nawal chewed her inner lip, "It seems there is something I will be able to teach you after all." She tightened her grip on his hand and dragged him as quickly as possible to the ice rink.

One of the most favourite past times for Nawal during winter had been ice skating. It was only in winter, that there were several ice skating rink set up in Irish shopping centres especially in Dublin. As a child and a young adult, Nawal had always visited the ice skating arena multiple times every winter with her brothers. Faraz was exceptionally well in ice skating and so was Nawal. The question today was how well Salman would be able to skate. In the subsequent years, Salman had been busy with his studies and career to take out time for such activities. After Nawal's persistence, Salman had consented. Now he doubted his decision.

When Salman was hesitant, Nawal rushed to the ice rink and without a backward glance, she was on the ice and skating away. Salman stood at the corner beside the ice skating rink and gazed at it sceptically. Nawal whirled around on the ice like a flawless bird flying in open skies. "C'mon Salman. I don't want to skate on my own." She beckoned.

He nodded imperceptibly.

Nawal came closer and took his hands, "I have you. Don't worry," she whispered.

He stepped on the ice and for a few moments Nawal held on to him as he slowly regained his confidence on the ice.

"See I told you it's not difficult," she loosened her grip on his hands.

He let go of her hands and within moments he was gliding on the ice with ease. Nawal was speechless as she watched him gaining speed skating around. Her husband was a fast learner or a person who never forgot. She stood frozen unable to comprehend.

Hands on her hips, she glared at him.

He ignored and proceeded with ice skating.

When he stepped closer to her reach she clutched at his heavy winter jacket and said, "You were faking that you don't know?"

"Nope but let's just say your husband doesn't forget once he has learned something," he winked.

He glided away from her and skated backward, hands behind him.

"Show off."

"Jealous."

"I will show you."

"And I can't wait," Salman chaffed further.

And so it began the competition for the best skater.

They raced.

They laughed.

And they bantered.

But most of all they had fun.

It was a few hours later in the warmth of their house in front of the fireplace in the living room, Nawal and Salman were seated with hot chocolate mugs in their hands.

"I enjoyed myself a lot. But I am exhausted." Her expressed in exhaustion. "You will have to wake up for Rania when she wakes up in the middle of the night."

"Ahh no." Salman groaned.

"Please." Her eyes imploring with his.

He sighed in defeat, "Fine."

She put her arms around him and hugged him, "Thanks."

"I will get back to you."

She yawned, "Not tonight. I am in need of full night sleep."

He stood up, holding their empty mugs in his hand, he stretched his other hand for her, "C'mon my sleeping beauty. Time to go to bed then."

Eyes drooping, she stood up, holding his hand, "Arora was my favourite princess cartoon."

"No wonder," he muttered.

"Ya ya whatever," she grumbled as she stumbled to get to the bedroom.

Their bickering was never-ending. But that was the spark of their relationship.

****

Sundays were a special day for the family. Everyone would stay at home and Seema made sure to cook traditional brunch for the family. During summer days, she always prepared halwa puri and cholai (chickpea curry with fried flatbread and semolina sweet). On the other hand, in winter days, Sunday brunch meant to either cook nihari (beef spicy stew) or paya (trotters) soup with naan bread. These were exotic dishes cooked to bring warmth and close the ties between the family members.

On this freezing Sunday when the trees were bare and the temperatures had plummeted, the family were enjoying the traditional meal. Dada jaan had been very quiet during the meal. Otherwise, he would enquire Salman and Muhammad about the latest happenings at the company. He would always query Nawal about Rania.

Muhammad discerned Adil's quiet mood and expressed his concern, "Aba you are very quiet today. Are you feeling alright?"

Adil placed the naan bread on the side plate. His frail hand rested on the dining table. For a long moment, he stared at his hand. How time had passed that all he saw on his hands were shriveled skin and prominent veins.

He raised his tired eyes under the grey bushy eyebrows, "Salman have you thought of aqiqah for Rania?"

Aqiqa was a celebration after the birth of a baby where one sheep or goat was to be slaughtered when baby girl was born or two sheep or goats were slaughtered when a baby boy was born. The meat from the slaughtered animal was used to prepare a feast where friends and family were invited. In simple terms, it was a grand celebration of the birth of the baby.

Salman nodded as he took another bite of the naan bread soaked in the nihaari sauce, "Jee Dada jaan I was thinking now that we have Christmas holidays near why not have it then as many people will be off work and friends and family from far can also come."

Muhammad agreed, "That's a good idea. We better start planning out then. First, let's write down a guest list and then a venue can be chosen."

Adil brought the water-filled glass to his mouth. His hand trembled slightly. Over the weeks, he felt weak as if life was drowning out of him.

"I want all my grandchildren present in the aqiqa."

Salman narrowed his eyes. Adil met his gaze and said with determination "That includes Daud." His gaze shifted to Muhammad, "And Manal."

Suddenly, the food in Nawal's mouth was tasteless. The mention of that one name that had destructed her life made her sick.

"Dada jaan, Daud will never come near my family again." Salman hissed.

"I want him there." Adil pressed.

"With due respect Dada jaan, you can invite Daud anytime you want to meet you but not in Rania's aqiqah."

Adil's gaze didn't falter, "I have made my decision I want Daud there. Don't defy me."

Salman gritted his teeth. He refrained to reply knowing well he would cross his limits of courtesy and he would regret his harsh words said to his beloved grandfather.

"Hmm... Aba jee about Manal that girl is dead for me. I don't want her coming back when she ran off that boy." Muhammad pointed out.

Adil took hold of his walking stick, "Seema talk to her. If she comes it is good. Otherwise, leave the matter." He glanced at Salman, "But I want Daud to be part of this."

Salman pushed the chair back and walked out of the room. He lost his appetite even for Nawal's carrot cake.

No way was Daud coming!

But was that possible?

****

It was late at night. The sky was dark, frost on the road and the icy wind was swirling. In exhaustion, Daud parked his car in the underground parking of his apartment. He had been working overtime since he was back at work. There were days he reached home after Yousef would be asleep. Guilt gnawed him that he wasn't able to spend time with his son. But he really had no choice, there was so much backlog work that needed his attention and he was also working on the future plans for the company and his own personal life. Susan never complained and he was grateful that she wasn't a nagging wife. Instead, she would be awake waiting for him and together they would have a late night dinner. This is why he looked forward to going back home after a long day at work. He knew well that his wife was waiting for him. Her loving smile and the glow in her eyes would eradicate all his tiredness.

Just like any other day, Daud stepped into the elevator in the underground parking and clicked on the 6th floor where his apartment was located. The lift slowly went up the different floors of the building until finally reaching the 6th floor. Rubbing his neck, he stepped out of the elevator as the door opened. He strolled down the hall to his apartment. His steps slowed as he heard noises from inside and the door was slightly open. Frowning, he pushed the door open and his jaw tightened at what he saw.

"I told you I want the fucking money. Why the fuck you don't listen to me?" the tall man shouted at Susan who was plastered to the wall and the man was towering over her.

"Just go. There is no money." Susan fought back. Angry tears were streaming down her face.

"You wouldn't listen to me, will you?" He tightened his hold on her arm.

"Gerard you are hurting me," she bit out.

"I don't fucking care. Where the fuck is your fancy husband? Ask him for money." His voice getting louder.

"Her fucking husband is right here. I am going to give you 10 seconds to get your fuckin hands off my wife before I break your bones." Daud threatened from behind the man. His voice was deadly.

Gerard stiffened, slowly he released Susan's arm and turned around. Before he could have had a good look at Daud. A big punch hit his face. He stumbled back a few steps. Daud grabbed the collar of his t-shirt.

"Get out of my home," Daud's hold on Gerard's shirt tightened, "if I ever see you near my wife. I WILL KILL YOU."

Daud dragged the other man by the collar and pushed him out of the apartment. He locked the door and immediately called the security downstairs.

"There is a dangerous man on 6th-floor hall. He was attacking my wife. Take him away and I don't want to see him here again." He ended the call and turned to Susan, ready to shout at her.

But seeing her in tears softened his heart. Instead, he took her in his arms and calmed her down. It took a few minutes when she finally quietened. He stroked her back and hair.

"I am sorry." She whispered against his shirt. Her ear pressed to his heart. Hearing his heartbeat reassured her that he was there for her.

"Who was he?" Daud asked.

"My brother."

-------------