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𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓘𝓼 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾

𝓣𝓸𝓸 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓣𝓸 𝓗𝓪𝓿𝓮.

I never thought that someone could just be so hopeful, beautiful and peaceful just by sleeping. The blood was seeped through the syringe from Zubab's arm. She was sleeping. The room fell in the arms of solemned peace. I stood behind the doctor who was checking Zubab.

"She has been vomiting, feeling nauseous every time she tries to eat something, headaches and fatigue are common too."

I say. The doctor focuses on the heart rate as she pressed the stethoscope on her chest. She was still asleep as the dosage was high for sleep to avoid headache.

"She does have a fever but maybe because the weather is gloomy these days but let's get her blood checked. I will write down a few medicines for her. She'll be fine, I am sure."

The doctor passes the paper to me and walks out of the room. "Maybe she's pregnant." The doctor says. I smiled. I cannot force my wishes upon her but somewhere I wanted to be a father. Zubab and I have never really conversed about our future and family. So I am not sure what she would want.

I walk the doctor out of the villa. Moosa enters in his black Audi with his driver. The driver comes out of the car and opens his door quickly. He glares at him. "Is the word 'idiot' written on my forehead that you keep opening the door even after I decline?"

I laughed, noticing his actions. A card in his hand. To focus carefully, it was his performance card.

"But it's clearly written that you are an idiot in that performance card." I taunt him. Though he is my stepbrother, there's something about him. I feel more comfortable with him than Dad.

"Bhai!" He yells coming in. Whining like a baby, he sticks to my side. Irritation running through his veins and face is almost completely showing it. I am sure it's about his results.

"Don't tell me you failed language again?" I questioned as we walked inside and sat on the couch in the living room.

"I was not in the mood to study and not like this is the finals. It's just a unit test. And also from our childhood, we have not rightly reached one language. It's Hindi sometimes, Urdu sometimes, English sometimes and many others. So of course it's hard to crack language. If I know english better in speaking then I don't in writing and same goes for Hindi. It sucks my life. People should start thinking like me. I am the coolest!"

I smirked. I knew exactly where to kick his mindset but sometimes he is right. "That's focusing, Moosa. Once you start doing it appropriately. It gets perfect."

"Whatever. I don't want to focus" He sips the fruit juice on the table.

"When is the PTA?"

Moosa choked on his juice as soon as he heard me. Asfandyaar wiggled his eyebrows, noticing his actions. "Within an hour."

"Informed Dad?"

"Not yet. I just don't feel like talking to him these days. After you left, it makes me sick to live around Mom and Dad. I am afraid that maybe I'd be a coward like Dad or maybe I'd be a traitor like Mom. It sickens me completely."

The silence was gloomy. I understood that Moosa felt lonely in The Shah Mansion. My doors were always open for him but Dad needed Moosa. Moosa needed his Father. He is just a teenager.

"He needs you, Moosa. So do you."

"I know, Bhai. That's why I am sticking to the last hope. Maybe I'll get used to it."

I stood in front of him. "My doors are always open for you."

"I know Bhai." Moosa chuckles, "Even if they aren't I'll break them open. I have eaten enough of your ordered brownies for that."

He is obsessed with brownies. Not only brownies but brownies ordered by me.

We laugh together. "By the way, please come for the PTA tomorrow. I'll talk about it with Dad after a few days maybe. I am not in the mood currently."

I nod.

He stays watching the television. I walked up to our room to notice that she had woken up with her head in her hand. Headaches. She had been getting so sick and weak these days.

"Jaan?"

I called her but she was in no position to look up and answer me. Her head was low with the least of self esteem in her. She slowly turned and gazed at me.

"Headache again?"

Everytime she sleeps, she gets a headache right after she wakes up.

"It's getting worse." She sits up. "Everytime." I sat beside her.

She held her hand. "I still have no wish to get checked up."

"Why do you not want to get checked up?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I have been sick for a long time now. I kinda feel settled with this sickness."

I laugh. She really is someone too adorable to handle for me. "You are really something else, Zubab." We look towards the door as soon as we hear it. It was our cook. I am mostly in the office and Zubab in Hospital so we needed a cook.

She entered with a tray full of fresh salad and fruits for her brunch.

She starts eating after the cook leaves. I'm starting to get ready for Moosa's PTA. She wiggled her eyebrows noticing that I was actually going somewhere because I hadn't left her alone ever since she had fallen sick. And I have been working from home and most of the time my employees do have to visit me. There are guards outside because I can never take a chance on Zubab's life nor can I leave these principles of the Shah family.

I gaze at her as she stares at her plate of fruits. She completely does not want to eat it. Nothing lits up her mood as she has been vomiting and dizziness is her company most of the time.

I knew we were going there. That's the reason I didn't tell her and called the doctor when she was sleeping harder.

I just hope the reports turn positive.

"Make sure you eat it."

"It's too much," she whined just like a baby that she is. "Eat in small portions but you have to."

"I don't think I can," she looks up. "I might end up throwing up."

"It's alright. It's still okay to eat, Jaan." I wore a beige shirt with formal white pants and a beige strapped watch. Brushing my hair to the side and I glanced at her in the reflection of the long mirror, the plate was still untouched. She was using her phone, picturing me?

I stare at him dumbfounded. "I told you to eat, Jaan."

"Where are you going, Asfand?" She asks, ignoring my words and dumping a spoon of pomegranate. Too adorable.

I turn around to look at her still capturing my pictures. "To Moosa's PTA. Complete that before I return."

She nods, smiling naughtily. I am sure she must have taken a picture of mine with an ugly filter that she thinks is cute. For me, the person who took the picture is cute.

Yes, I am crazily in love with her.

"Seems like I am trending." She says reading a few articles about her. "Correction, you my wife is the trend."

I ruffle her hair before going out. Smiling as I glance back and notice her still smiling at something in her phone. It must be my ugly picture.

Moosa was fast asleep on the couch. The television was still running. A packet of chips was open resting in his stomach. This boy will be the death of me one day.

"Sir?" I shook him. "Sir? We need to go attend your conference and the award ceremony please wake up."

He opens his eyes just half and smiles with gratitude. The amount of confidence he has is infinite even if he had never been sure about his career.

"You are nominated as the best brownie eater sir." I say as soon as he sits up. The packet of chips falls down. I pick it up and keep it aside. He had the best smile on his face.

He was still half asleep but the smile was too proud. I put half of the water left in the glass on the tea table. He shrinks under it and stares at me bewildered.

"PTA?" He nods. "Chalein?"

"Let's eat brownies after that."

I sigh. Brownie will come first before his wife in future. We drive towards school. A car of security guards in front of mine and a car behind. I cannot play with the protocols.

He played the radio and a song blasted out. He is singing along. As far as I know him, he is a loyal person. He will be there for his mate. It was a love song. The lines reminded me of her. Everything about her.

Chode na chute kabhi

Thode na tutey kabhi

Jo dhaga tum se jud gaya

Wafa ka

Main Tera sarmaya hun

Jo bhi main ban paya hai hun

Tum se hi... tum se hi...

Raaste mil jathey hain

Manzilein mil jathi hain

Tum se hi... tum se hi...

I cannot express the amount of love I have for my woman. She makes me love myself. She makes me love her purity, her tenderness, her sparkle and her charm. She makes me revolve around a world that I never thought existed.

Looking back a few years ago, I was always focused on business. I hated being around in the mansion, Moosa was an exception. He reminds me of being alright even if anything happens with his sunshine voice.

If someone had asked me if I needed anyone years ago. I would have laughed at them but now as I visualize everything in my life, it makes sense how much Zubab means in my life. It's nothing without her.

If she wasn't here, I wouldn't have been. It's right what they say, Allah sends people to you at the right time. He did.

I look at Moosa. He has been acting confident but I know he'd be nervous as hell. We walk through the corridor and he stops walking as soon as he encounters someone. A classmate of his maybe. I look at the way he is looking and it is a girl, maybe of his age.

"She is the girl I told you about. Taniah. She never behaves well with me. No one disrespects me the way she does."

I looked back at her and she was still glaring at him. She walks to us and stares at him. "Go in, Mr. Royal Musa. Homeroom teacher is too ready with your language paper."

"He can't do anything. I am Moosa Azeem Shah. My father is the biggest shareholder of this school's foundation."

"Royalty does not work in every test Mr. Royal."

I am surprised with the way she had completely ignored my presence and with the way she spoke Moosa. It's rare that someone ever speaks so boldly like that. For me, the very first person to speak that way is Zubab.

"Mr. Asfandyaar?" We hear someone call me. "Mr. Faisal!" I exclaim giving him a handshake. "How have you been?" He asked me. He is a business friend of mine.

"I am well. How about you?"

"Good. Just came for my daughter's PTA."

I nod. Moosa's competitor is his daughter I guess. I can already sense Moosa closing his eyes in regret. "I came for Moosa's."

"How is Azeem Sir doing? It's been a while since I last saw him."

"He is good. We are busy with the GK project execution."

"I am glad it's taking place after finalisation of the property. It took a long time but it's alright as long as it's taking place."

I smile, nodding. "Our lawyers had a tough time for the land but as the goodwill of the Shah industries is built strong so it was not as hard as it seemed."

I sneaked at Moosa and at the girl glaring at each other and throwing daggers.

"Yeah it was much easier after the registration. Okay, Mr. Faisal, I'll meet you some other day."

"Yeah please carry on." He says and passes a smile at Moosa.

"Seems like she is obsessed with you." I tease as soon as we walk towards the classroom. It was wide and a fantastic built infrastructure for better education. Calm and composed interior and clean environment. For the first time, I was glad that Moosa studied here. I studied here as well but it wasn't as good as it is at the moment. It was twelve years ago so things changed but nostalgia hit me when we entered the classroom. The moments of classes, the tests, the presentation preparation, the exams, the cheating during exams, friends, teachers, it was a complete bliss. School was my escape from Dad.

"Asfandyaar! How are you?" I look back. I recognised this voice. It was the principal. Mr. Shetty. The wrinkles had binded more inside, his eyes were droopy now, not as strict as it used to be.

"I am good, Sir. How are you?"

He opens his arms, hugging me. A man of strictness, boldness and compatibility. He was the only person who made us rich kids scared. "Well." He chuckles.

Looking at him I realised how fast time moved. If forever had an enemy it was time and only time.

"You were such a fantastic and brilliant student, Asfandyaar. I miss students like you," he says. I was proud for the first time, though after my graduation from school I thought it was a waste but now it felt worth it.

"Maybe they are here, Sir but with the absence of your strictness. They might have been going in a different lane."

"You are right. Pass my greetings and wishes to Azeem." He laughs in a slow manner. I remember him telling me that Dad was his junior and he was such an intelligent kid but prefered to keep this low for him.

They showed me Moosa's performance card and advised Moosa to focus on his studies. Mr. Shetty didn't say much about his performance but we're telling me about his wit and humour with the sports. He is a champion in cricket. I wonder if Dad would ever let him go to cricket because that side of the world breaks too many protocols of Royalty but who cares as long as Moosa is happy.

We depart to an ice cream parlour and order brownies. I ordered a pack of parcels for Zubab as well. He will not leave me if I don't buy him. I take my phone checking a few notifications when I notice Zubab's mention in her story. I checked it. It showed the picture she clicked before I left.

Captioned, "When your husband is too good to be looked at."

I chuckle liking it. I reply, "When your wife is too cute to wake next to."

Dropping off Moosa in the mansion, I head to our villa. I hear another notification pop up as soon as I park the car. I unlocked my phone and saw that it's Zubab's report.

Taking a breath, I open the message. To the end of the report.

Diagnosed with Stage IV (4) Cervical cancer.

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