Chapter 40
Author's POV
" niche utare sab dekh rahein hain... ", She whisper-yelled, quickly winding her arms around his neck to steady herself.
(Put me down, everyone is watching...)
" Utaarne ke liye thori uthaya hain.. ", He shrugged casually as he carried her toward the west wing. He paused mid-walk and hoisted her up properly so she was closer to him.
(I didn't lift you to put you down.)
" Aap bohot hee besharam hain... ", she murmured against his chest, a deep shade of red bloomed across her cheeks, making him chuckle softly. He loved that rosy hue that appeared every time he teased her.
(You are very shameless...)
" Apni biwi ko uthaya hain... Ismein sharam ki kya baat? ", He said as he entered their room.
(I am carrying my wife. What is there to be ashamed of?)
He stalked towards the bed before placing her on the bed.
" It's okay... Ab chhoriye.. ", She said, turning her face away after catching a glimpse of them together in one of the mirrors. She suddenly felt shy.
(It's okay... leave me now...)
Safiya gasped as she felt his body pressed against hers. Even through all the layers of clothing, she could feel the warmth radiating from him. He immediately supported himself on his arms, hovering above her and looked down to see her flushed face and trembling body.
" What is that biwi? ", He teased, caressing her cheek with his thumb, controlling himself from biting her cheeks because they looked unbearably adorable.
'just like plums', he thought.
" Abhi touh mene kuch Kiya bhi nhi hain aur aap itna sharma rhi hain?
", He whispered, making her snap her eyes open.
Realisation dawned on her face as she understood the double meaning behind his words.
She often wondered how he could flirt like this so effortlessly and yet be completely oblivious about so many things.
(I haven't even done anything yet and you are already this shy?)
'sachme bhole hain ya fir yeh sab inka dhong hain?'
(Is he really innocent or is all of this an act?)
" Agli baar se dhyaan rakha karein... Hamari jaan par hum ek kharoch bhi barshaasht nhi karenge. ", he leaned down slowly, making her gulp nervously as she closed her eyes. He came so close that she could feel his breath against her skin. Any closer and they would have kissed.
(From next time, be careful. I will not tolerate even a scratch on my life.)
But instead, she felt a soft kiss placed gently on her temple. The weight above her shifted away. She opened her eyes to see him sitting beside her, looking at her intently. Her gaze followed him as he moved around the bed and settled behind her, sitting close.
" Aapko yeh achanak kya hogya hain? ", She asked, confused about why he had settled behind her like this.
(What has suddenly gotten into you?)
" Aapse Mohabbat. ", He said casually and just like that, the rosy hue returned to her cheeks and neck.
(Love for you.)
" I'm sorry Safiya... ", He whispered near her ear. His felonious tone made her brows cross in worry, a sudden blue feelings settle in the pit of her stomach.
" Huh? "
Before she could react, he wound his arm around her waist, lifted her gently into his lap and hugged her from behind.
" Yeh aap kya kar rahe hain? ",she asked in panic as his front pressed against her back. She liked the hug, but this was not something he did often, which only confused her more.
(What are you doing?)
His left arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close and caged against him.
Just then, the door opened and two female staff members entered the room.
Safiya watched in confusion as they carried two bags and walked straight into the closet.
Realising their compromising position, Safiya tried to push him away but he tightened his hold instead, keeping her pressed against him.
" Chhore... Sab dekh rahe hain...",she scolded him but he completely ignored her.
(Leave me... everyone is watching...)
" Touh dekhne douh... ", He whispered into her ear, making her curl her toes in embarrassment as an unfamiliar warmth spread through her body. She melted into his arms partly fr embarrassment and partly seeking comfort.
(Let them watch...)
" Why are they here, Zaviyar? ", She asked, still confused.
" ammi told me they have to clean the rooms. ", He replied, resting his head against her shoulder. She shivered as goosebumps erupted across her skin when his lips brushed her neck while speaking.
But her soul practically left her body the moment she saw the ladies lifting her precious heels and stuffing them into two large bags.
Her heart clenched painfully as she watched them treat her babies like discarded trash, their hands careless and indifferent, as if they were not holding her most treasured possessions.
" Zaviyar, no please. Don't throw them away. Please please please... ", She practically cried out, her voice breaking as sobs escaped her uncontrollably.
Now she knew why he had apologize and why he had trapped her like this.Tears streamed down her cheeks but Zaviyar remained firm.
His jaw was set as he instructed the ladies, who hesitated briefly upon seeing her cry.
Safiya could not help but dread the unyielding resolve in his posture.
He was serious. far too serious for her liking,.
" Fek ke aao inhe bahar. ", ge said sternly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Both the ladies nodded obediently. Before they could even take a step, Safiya cried out louder, her voice cracking with desperation.
(Throw them outside.)
Zaviyar, however, did not loosen his hold. He was angry. He knew she loved her heels a little too much but time and again, those same heels had been the reason she hurt herself. Living with Safiya had made him realise how unhealthy her attachment to them truly was.
" Please na karein esa... Please. Mere heels. ", She sobbed openly now, her shoulders shaking. Zaviyar felt a sharp stab of guilt seeing her like this, but he forced himself to stay firm.
(Please don't do this... please. My heels.)
" mein promise karti hu aaj se zyada uchi heel nhi pehnungi. Please mat feko unhe. ", She thrashed around helplessly and in her panic, her injured leg hit the edge of the bed.
(I promise I won't wear very high heels from today. Please don't throw them away.)
" Ahhh~ ", She cried out loudly.
" Aap thik touh hain na? ", He asked immediately, panic flashing across his face.
(Are you okay?)
" Tum apna khayal bilkul nhi rakhti. Jab dekho tab ghayal hoti rehti ho. Aur yeh sab inn heels ki galti hai. ", He accused, his frustration pouring out.
(You don't take care of yourself at all. You are always injured. And all of this is because of these heels.)
" Haan touh meri galti hain kya ki shaadi ke baad se mere shaaririk santulan hil chuka hain, aur gravity neh mera saath chhor diya hain? ", She cried out dramatically but then her eyes caught a glimpse of something red shining inside one of the bags.
(So is it my fault that after marriage my physical balance is disturbed and gravity has abandoned me?)
" Aahhhhhhhhh.... tum jaante bhi ho woh heels kitni mehengi hain, ek kidney bechne se bhi ek pair nhi aayegi. ", Her scream was ear-piercing, as if her soul had completely abandoned her body.She screamed directly into his ear, making him squeeze his eyes shut.
(Ahhhhhh... do you even know how expensive those heels are? Even selling a kidney wouldn't get one pair.)
" Inhe andar rakh dou, aur chaabi mujhe dedo drawer ki.
", He instructed calmly. Once the ladies left the room, Zaviyar knew he had angered his wife deeply.
Still, he believed this was necessary. Her obsession with heels was growing day by day, and the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt again.
(Keep them inside and give me the drawer key.)
" Mujhe maaf kardo, lekin mein nhi chahta ki tumhe chhot pohche isiliye mujhe lagah this is for the best. ", He leaned into her as he spoke, breathing in her familiar scent, the one he loved more than he would ever admit. She did not say anything, only hummed softly.
(Forgive me, but I don't want you to get hurt. That's why I felt this was for the best.)
" Aur tumhe kounsa bhoot charha hai body buliding ka? ", She asked, distractedly playing with the wedding ring on his right hand.
(And what ghost of bodybuilding has possessed you?)
" Kya matlab? ", He asked, resting his head on her shoulder. Neither of them wanted to move. Their cheeks were brushing against each other, close enough to feel each other's warmth.
(What do you mean?)
" Matlab yeh ki mujhe barbell samajh ke rakha hain kya jouh har samay uthate rehte hain? ", She quipped, turning slightly and unknowingly giving him more access to her neck.
(Meaning, do you think I am a barbell that you keep lifting all the time?)
" Mujhe koi shouk nhi hain unhattar kilo ke bodi ko uthane ka... ", He murmured, his lips hovering inches away from the curve of her neck. His eyes traced the ruby flicks of her skin until they landed on the small mole resting there.
(I have no interest in lifting a sixty-nine kilo body...)
" English mein bolo mujhe 50 ke upar numbers hindi mein nhi aatein. ", She said, pulling out her phone as it suddenly started ringing.
(Speak in English, I don't know numbers above fifty in Hindi.)
" Woh jouh nabbe hazaar ka phone leke ghumti ho, usme google karlo. ", He let go of her, partly angry when he saw that the message was from none other than Ahaan.
(That ninety-thousand-rupee phone you roam around with, google it on that.)
" Sadu Nawab.... Pati hain ya patilaa... Kisi kaam ka nahi hain. Waha dusre pati apni wives pata nhi princess treatment de rahe, aur ek yeh. Pati na hua, khoosat maths teacher hogaya... ", She gritted her teeth while opening Google.
(Grumpy Nawab... are you a husband or a utensil? Completely useless. Other husbands give their wives princess treatment, and then there is him. Not a husband, but a cranky maths teacher.)
" Abeh oi gande aadmi, duniya ko dikhate ho ki shareef ho aur mujh par gande gande comments karte ho? ", She shrieked, throwing the pillow at him. It hit the back of his head, catching him completely off guard.
(You filthy man, you show the world you are decent and make dirty comments about me?)
" Kounsa ganda comment Kiya mene? ", He asked, genuinely confused.
(What dirty comment did I make?)
" Unhattar means 69...", Safiya said, pointing at her phone screen.
" what's dirty about that? ", Zaviyar walked closer, squinting slightly.
" Heh? Tumhe nhi pata? Bro, do you live under a rock... ", Safiya gasped. Just minutes ago, this same man had been above her, pinning her down and looking at her like he would devour her.
(You don't know? Bro, do you live under a rock?)
" Ek touh bro mat bola karo, mein tumhara bhai nhi hu. ", He said, flicking her forehead lightly.
(First of all, don't call me bro. I am not your brother.)
" Ab bolo bhi what does 69 mean? Why is it dirty? ", He sat beside her but Safiya suddenly felt guilty, as if she had stained his innocence.
(Now tell me. What does 69 mean? Why is it dirty?)
" Apne pachees hazaar ke phone mein dhoond lou... ", She said quickly before crawling under the comforter, hiding her flushed face.
(Search it on your twenty-five-thousand-rupee phone.)
__________________________________
?Morning, the next day.?
Safiya slowly made her way across the floor, balancing carefully on one leg while dragging the injured one behind her like dead weight. Every step required full concentration. As she entered the room, she was about to complain about the pain when she suddenly froze.
Zaviyar was sitting on the edge of the bed as if he had seen a ghost. His back was stiff, shoulders tense, eyes wide and hollow. His face looked pale, almost grey and there was something deeply unsettling about the way he was staring ahead, unmoving, like his soul had temporarily left his body.
Safiya immediately hopped on her good leg and made her way to the couch beside him, plopping down carefully.
" Areh kya hua? Ese kyu betho ho.... ", She asked, shaking his arm slightly.
(What happened? Why are you sitting like this?)
" Why do you look so traumatized? ", She frowned, thoroughly weirded out by the fact that he did not even blink. Just then, her eyes travelled downward and landed on his phone lying on the floor.
Her brows furrowed in confusion.
She quickly ducked down, picked it uo and the moment her eyes fell on the screen, she gasped sharply. The browser was open. Not just the search bar.
Images! Those kind of images!
" Wait, tumne literally yeh search Kiya ki 69 ka matlab kya hota hain? ",bshe looked at him in disbelief. Guilt pricked her conscience for a second but it was brutally crushed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. A laugh burst out of her before she could stop it.
(Wait, you literally searched what 69 means?)
" Tumhe yeh sab kyu malum hain Safiya... ", He asked in a hollow voice, still staring into nothingness, not even turning toward her. He genuinely looked like someone who needed holy water, prayers and an immediate exorcism.
(Why do you know all this, Safiya?)
Safiya tapped her chin thoughtfully, pretending to ponder deeply, before shrugging casually.
" Tum touh ese baat kar rahein ho jese ki tum paisath saal ke buddhe ho...", She walked toward him and stopped right between his legs, crossing her arms over her chest.
(You are talking like you are a sixty-five-year-old old man...)
" Wese tum kitne saal ke ho? ", Zaviyar finally looked up.
(By the way, how old are you?)
Safiya was standing and him sitting meant his line of sight was unfortunately placed. His cheeks turned red immediately. He panicked internally, afraid she would think he was staring. He quickly averted his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly.
" Thirty three-", he murmured under his breath. He did not even get to finish.
" Kyaaaaaaaa- ", Safiya screamed so loudly it could have woken the dead. Before Zaviyar could even react, her body went limp. She collapsed straight onto him.
(Whattttt-)
" Safiya- ", He watched in horror as she passed out cold in his arms. Panic surged through him. He immediately laid her down on the bed, gently tapping her cheek.
" Safiya? Safiya, aankhein kholo- ",
Suddenly, her eyes flew open.
" Sorry iron deficiency", And just like that, she passed out again.
Zaviyar stood there frozen, staring at her unconscious form, his brain desperately trying to process what had just happened. The night before, the cursed Google search, her scream, her dramatic fainting, the iron deficiency apology. He rubbed his face slowly with both hands.
Marriage, he realised, was far more dangerous than any weapon he had ever held. And his wife, was a menace.
Zaviyar stood there for a long moment, still staring at Safiya like she might suddenly scream again or accuse him of something.
But she was out cold.
He exhaled slowly, then reached for his phone, very carefully this time, as if it might personally betray him again. His thumb hovered over the screen before he unlocked it. One glance at the open tab made his soul leave his body again. He turned away from the bed immediately and dialed a number.
" Haan, suno- " he said quietly, lowering his voice.
(Listen...)
" Aaj khane mein iron-rich cheezein banana. Palak, chana, beetroot... jo bhi hota hai. "
( Prepare iron rich food today. Spinach, lentils, beetroot.. whatever there is. )
" bring it to my room immediately, " he added quickly, without blinking as he watched his wife sleeping peacefully. He ended the call before any unnecessary questions could be asked.
Safiya looked absurdly peaceful now, one arm thrown dramatically across the pillow, as if fainting twice in ten seconds was part of her daily routine.
Zaviyar sighed and sat on the edge of the bed again. He turned on his phone, his ears burned in embarrassment.
" Astaghfirullah... " he muttered under his breath, immediately hitting the back button. One by one, he began deleting everything.
Search history-clear.
Recent tabs-closed.
He paused, then went back and cleared it again, just to be safe. Finally, he stared at the blank browser screen like a man who had narrowly escaped public execution. He locked the phone and placed it face-down on the table, far away from himself.
Zaviyar's eyes then travelled towards the bed. He watched the soft, peaceful expression on her face. Her long hair cascading behind her, as she snored softly, her nose scrunched and lips apart.
He slipped out of his shoes and slowly snuck onto the bed before propping his head on his head, and watching her sleep.
And somehow he wasn't bored, rather this might have just become his favourite hobby. He traced each feature oh his wife, the freckles on her cheeks, to the small mole on the corner of her eyelids which was almost hidden..
And before he could realise it, he had pulled his wife close to him, their hearts thrumming softly, as both found peace in each other's arms.
_____________________________________
Safiya had woken up barely fifteen minutes ago, her head still heavy and her body sluggish, only to realise that she had passed out from sheer exhaustion.
The room felt too quiet, too empty for her liking.
Zaviyar, the traitorous husband, was already inside the washroom, grooming himself as if nothing had happened.
She could hear the faint sound of water and movement from behind the closed door, which only annoyed her further.
Though he had already made sure she was fed both breakfast and lunch and had personally seen to her meals, something she could not deny was sweet of him, she still wanted him beside her for longer. She wanted his presence, his attention, and his irritating calm focused entirely on her.
Waking up in his arms once again, had left her a beautiful mess, all giggly and coy like a newly wedded bride.
Her ankle felt much better now. The pain that had earlier been sharp and persistent had subsided completely, leaving behind only a faint soreness.
She tested her footing, moving carefully at first, then more confidently.
Satisfied, she slipped out of bed and moved around the room, her mood lifting slightly as she realised she could walk without wincing.
Absentmindedly, her gaze travelled to zaviyar's picture on the wall. The so called nawab, she huffed. Their age gap was 6 years and she was now feeling a weird set of butterflies thinking about it.
She walked towards the vanity, still dreamy and absentminded, to style her hair, and resumed her playlist. And just then a song by aib started playing and she couldn't help but sing along.
As she got ready, she turned the room into her personal stage, jamming to a song that perfectly mirrored her inner monologue.
The comb in her hand became an imaginary microphone and the mirror her audience.
Her eyes landed on Zaviyar's framed photograph on the wall.
The sight of his composed face made her scoff.
She glared at the picture with dramatic intensity, half wanting to stab it, half wanting to scream at it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9ggjCbv5ck
( Inspired from this ??↑ yeh gaana Safiya ke situation me hisaab se likhne mein mujhe bohot time laga )
She sang with exaggerated expressions, pouring her frustration into every lyric. She turned once again towards Zaviyar's photo and frowned deeply, her annoyance only growing.
She glared at his picture before taking her dupatta and mirroring the same step as kangana in the song.
Buzurg hain mera piyaa
It's almost pedophilia...
Her glare sharpened, her lips curling in disdain as she stared at his picture, genuinely wishing she could poke his eye out for existing so peacefully and making her feel all these emotions.
Safiya was completely lost in her performance, swaying dramatically and singing into her comb, unaware of the man who had quietly entered the room behind her.
Zaviyar had just stepped out of the washroom, his hair still dripping wet, water trailing down his bare torso.
He was dressed in nothing but a pair of pants, a towel loosely wrapped around his neck.
He had witnessed the entire performance. The improvised lyrics, the confidence, the singing. That discussion was for later. For now, he was more amused than offended.
He watched as she was takinga break as the song ended and stalker towards her.
" Ahhh- ", She let out a startled cry.
Before she could even register his presence, she was suddenly pulled back into his arms. Her small squeak escaped as she collided with his chest. Her face pressed against his wet, calloused skin, the warmth of him enveloping her.
She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, far too close for comfort.
" Buzurg kise keh rahi thi? ", His arms wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
He leaned down, resting his head near her shoulder.
They were far too close. Close enough for her to feel his breath against her skin.
Close enough for embarrassment to crawl up her neck.
Her cheeks turned red almost instantly, shyness washing over her despite herself.
(Who were you calling old?)
" Aapko. Aur kisse? Sadma laga hain mujhe.
Aap chalees ki umar ke ho. ", For a moment, Zaviyar was stunned by her sheer audacity.
Then, in one swift movement, he tightenef his grip around her waist, hoisted her up and placed her on the vanity so rfortlessly, that Safiya felt a sudden queasiness.
The glass of the mirror felt cool against her back as he leaned in, his presence overwhelming.
(You. Who else? I am in shock. You are forty years old.)
" For god's sake Safiya. I'm 33!! ", His voice was sharp, not loud but firm enough to make his point clear.
Safiya, however, chose to ignore the intensity of the situation.
She shrugged casually, deliberately avoiding looking at his reflection.
Her gaze drifted instead to his contoured muscles flexing beside her.
His broad, wet body looked distractingly mouth-watering, and she had to force herself to focus.
" Areh same baat hain round off karne se 40 hee nikalta hain. ", She crossed her arms over her chest, only to feel his chest press against them, making her heart flutter despite her bravado.
(It is the same thing. If you round it off, it becomes 40.)
" Tum jaheel touh nhi lagti mujhe. Maths seekhi bhi hain kabhi? Round off karne se mein 30 ka honga. ", He said it with disbelief, already worrying about the future academic fate of his children.
(You do not look illiterate to me. Have you ever studied maths? If you round it off, I will be 30.)
" Maths mat sikhao mujhe. Numerator denominator se bara hota hain touh negative mein jaata hain wahi agar denominator numerator se bara hota hain touh positive mein jaata hain.
",zhe said it with absolute confidence. Zaviyar stared at her as if lightning had struck him.
His expression froze, his mind momentarily blank.
(Do not teach me maths. If the numerator is bigger than the denominator it goes into negative, and if the denominator is bigger than the numerator it goes into positive.)
For a second. He wondered if water had clogged up in his ear and his hearing had been affected. He sighed before saying with utter disappointment.
" Dub gaye! ", He muttered dejectedly, dipping his head down. His wet strands fell over his forehead, making him look infuriatingly handsome. A few drops of water slid down and fell onto her lap, briefly distracting her.
(It driwned)
" kya ? ", She looked at him curiously, genuinely confused.
(What did?)
" Chachu ke saarein paise. Jitne bhi unhone tumhari parhayi mein lagaye the. ", Her face flushed red with embarrassment as she looked at him, clearly offended.
(All of your dad's money. Everything he spent on your education.)
" Tumhe maths nhi aati? ", he asked with a tilt of his head, brushing his fingers through his dark locks exposing his forehead.
(You do not know maths?)
" Isiliye touh humanities lii thi. Mushkil se pass hui thi mein maths mein. Fir bhi baad mein maths agayi ", She cried out dramatically.
(That is why I took humanities. I barely passed maths. Still, maths came into my life later.)
" Mein aapse ek baat puchu? ", She looked up at him, her eyes glistening softly. The expression made him gulp. There was something dangerously alluring about her. His innocent seductress.
(Can I ask you something?)
" Pucho jaan... ", He whispered, leaning in closer.
(Ask, love.)
" i think humein na doctor ke paas jaana chahiye.
.. ", She murmured while absentmindedly drawing circles on his chest, her eyes never leaving his face.
Zaviyar gulped, getting distracted by her lingering touch, the warmth spreading across his skin as he flexed his hand to calm himself down.
(I think we should go to a doctor.)
" Woh kyu? ", he asked closing his eyes moemntarily.
(Why?)
" Uhm, see. Honestly speaking i want kids later. Aur tumhari age hogayi hain. I think we should freeze our sperm and egg taaki future mein problem na ho.", Safiya murmured.
(Uhm, see. Honestly speaking, I want kids later. And you have aged. I think we should freeze our sperm and eggs so there is no problem in the future.)
Zaviyar almost nodded until the meaning of her words finally registered when he saw a mischievous smile on her face. His dear wife was not serious rather she was mocking him.
" Tumhe lagta hain ki I'm not capable of -", he stopped himself, clearly exasperated.
(You think I am not capable of -)
" Nhi nhi, mera matlab woh nhi hain I'm just saying ki aapki age hogayi hain na... ", She tilted her head innocently, which only made his frown deepen.
(No no, that is not what I mean. I am just saying that you have aged.)
" Let me show you what this old man is capable of doing.... ", he said flatly before sliding one leg between hers, forcing her legs apart as he leaned in closer. Their lips were now just inches apart. The proximity made her gasp softly, her breath hitching.
" Ha-hatiye ese bhi aapne pura mood kharab kardiya. Aap sach mein buzurg ho. ", She stuttered, her nervousness obvious, which only made his smirk deepen.
(Move away. You have completely ruined the mood anyway. You truly are old.)
CAUTION POLICE ♀
[ The part below is mildly smutty, skip if it's not your cup of tea or if you are underage. ]
"touh mood bna dete hain ", Safiya gasped when she suddenly felt Zaviyar's knee slightly pressed against her core through the thin cotton of her pants, the unexpected friction sending a sharp wave of awareness straight through her body.
Her back was completely pressed against the mirror, the cool surface contrasting with the warmth pooling inside her, making a shiver race up her spine when Zaviyar's hand dipped inside her kurti and rested there possessively.
(So let me create the mood for you...)
" ch-choriye mujhe.. ", Safiya's breath hitched as Zaviyar's fingers traced lazy, deliberate patterns on her skin, each touch lingering just long enough to make her breath stutter, before his hand pressed firmly against her back and pulled her closer, leaving no space between them.
She let out a broken sound when his lips landed on the shell of her ear, his breath hot and teasing.
(L-leave me...)
" Yeh kya kar rahe hain aap? ", she barely managed to say, her hand pressing against his hard, calloused chest as she tried to push him away, though there was no real strength behind the motion.
She would not lie to herself that she was not enjoying it, in fact her knees were already turning weak, her body betraying her as tingling sensations spread at even the slightest brush of his fingers.
(What are you doing?)
He had barely even touched her and she was already falling apart. He was a virgin and still this skilled, still this dangerously aware of her reactions. She could feel her core growing warm and sensitive, a slow build tightening in her stomach.
A strong urge settled within her to move, to seek friction, to rub herself against his knee, but she forced herself to remain still. He was giving her only fragments of pleasure and she would not beg him. Never beg him.
" Meri young biwi ke saath romance... ", he murmured against her ear, his voice low and thick, before trailing soft pecks from her ear shell to the delicate dip of her neck, finally placing a lingering kiss on the spot where her neck and shoulder met, drawing a helpless moan out of her.
(Romancing my young wife...)
His lips curved into a smug smirk as if he had been waiting for that reaction, before he continued leaving open-mouthed kisses along her neck, unhurried and purposeful, making her back arch instinctively into his bare front.
Her hand curled into his chest, fingers gripping his shirt as she bit her lip hard to keep herself quiet.
He stepped away, pausing all movement before he he lifted his hand and freed her lower lip from the quiet assault she was making it ensure.
" Don't tempt me... ", his slowly rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, his face drawing closer to her. She closed her eyes, nervous at the sudden proximity. But she was disappointed when the kiss never came.
Rather his hand found its previous route inside her kurti, his fingers travelled further up, tracing the edge of her skin until they brushed the band of her bra, the subtle touch enough to make her breath hitch, before he bit gently onto the soft skin of his wife's neck.
Safiya gasped, her nails digging into his chest and leaving faint marks that made him growl low against her skin.
That sound sent a rush of heat straight through her, igniting sensations she did not dare give in to. She moaned softly when he soothed the spot with his mouth, gently sucking before licking over the skin that was slowly turning red, claiming her without words.
His wet hair brushed against her sensitive skin, leaving cool droplets in its wake that only heightened the contrast with the fire burning inside her.
Her core throbbed, aching as she wanted nothing more than to clench her thighs together, if his knee had not already been firmly lodged between them, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
" It's dripping all over me...", he murmured against her ear, the words making her stiffen instantly as she sat up straight, her heart racing as she did not dare look down, afraid her body had betrayed her completely.
(It's dripping all over me...)
" What? ", she whispered, slowly lowering her gaze only to let out a shaky sigh of relief when she saw his sweatpants were completely dry.
" I mean the water in my hair, what were you thinking love? ", he smirked as he leaned his head against her shoulder, his smug smile widening as he enjoyed every second of her flustered state.
(I mean the water from my hair, what were you thinking, love?)
Suddenly Zaviyar flicked open her bra, the sharp sound echoing in the room and making Safiya gasp as her breath hitched in her throat.
Her thighs clenched instinctively, only for a soft moan to slip past her lips when his thighs brushed against her on her own accord, the friction sending a tremor through her body that she had no control over.
" Now, I know what else is wet.. ", he chuckled, his tone dangerously amused, before stepping away from her just enough to make her feel the loss of his warmth instantly.
Safiya's body suddenly tensed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her core burned with an undeniable release that left her shaken and breathless.
Her first one at that. His knee had withdrawn but he still remained close enough for her to feel his presence, his effect on her, his quiet dominance.
She frowned at him, forcing her expression into defiance even as her body felt weak and overstimulated.
" Woh- woh... Shirt pehne ... ", she murmured, trying to move away from him, her own moans replaying in her head and making her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
(Y-you... wear your shirt...)
" Kyu? Body dhakne ke liye thori banayi hain? ", he said, catching one of her hands before she could escape and bringing it to his chest, pressing her palm flat against his bare, chiselled skin.
(Why? I haven't built this body to hide it, now have I?)
" Door hatiye varna mein tayi ammi ko bula lungi... ", she pushed him away, trying to sound stern despite the way her fingers had curled instinctively against his chest.
(Move away or I will call Tayi Ammi...)
" mein touh dar gaya. Achcha chalo bulao tayi ammi ko... ", he teased in a mockingly soft, babyish voice, leaning closer again, " Kya kahogi Tayi ammi se... "
(Oh, I am so scared. Go on, call Tayi Ammi then... What will you tell her?)
" Yahi ki aap mujhse badtameezi kar rahe ho.. ", she said, diverting her gaze, unable to hold his intense stare any longer.
(That you are misbehaving with me...)
" Aap jise badtameezi ke rehi hain woh hamara pyar hain.. ", he whispered, his voice low and intimate, before placing another gentle kiss on the crown of her head.
(What you are calling misbehaviour is my love...)
" You are shameless... ", she murmured, her protest losing strength as she felt him guide her hand across his chest, letting her feel the warmth and firmness beneath her palm while his fingers continued to trace slow, deliberate lines along her hips.
" Shameless hee sahi... Aapke kareeb aane ka touh mouka mila.. ", he replied softly, lifting her hand and placing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against her skin.
(Shameless is fine... At least I got the chance to be close to you...)
" Aaj aap kuch jyada flirt nhi kar rahe? ", she chided, her voice quieter now, before her face flushed a deep red when their eyes met again.
(Aren't you flirting a little too much today?)
" Meri biwi ho, mein jitna bhi flirt karu... ", he shrugged casually, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.
(You are my wife, I can flirt as much as I want...)
Just then Safiya's gaze dropped unwillingly, and her eyes widened when she noticed the unmistakable bulge in front of her, the clear outline in Zaviyar's pants impossible to ignore.
Her face burned as realization hit her all at once.
Zaviyar frowned for a second, wondering why his wife had suddenly turned from cherry red to beetroot.
His gaze followed hers and a soft chuckle left his lips.
" Aap touh laal hogyi hain Mrs Khan... ", he teased, clearly enjoying her reaction.
(You have turned so red, Mrs Khan...)
" Mene kuch kiya bhi hain aur tum inti laal horhi ho. Jab karunga tab touh...? ", he started, his tone deliberately provocative, only to be interrupted when she slapped his chest sharply.
(I have not even done anything yet and you are this red. When I actually do something then...?)
" Eee... Zaviyar mein marungi... Gandi baatein na karo... ", she exclaimed, turning away in embarrassment, only to pause when something suddenly clicked in her mind.
(Eee... Zaviyar, I will hit you... Don't say such dirty things...)
She stood still for a moment before slowly turning back to him. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her movements hesitant yet deliberate.
Zaviyar's eyebrows crossed in confusion before ehis eyes widened seeing her leaning in closer.
She began trailing soft kisses down his collarbone and across his chest, making sure each touch was slow and intentional.
Her fingernails traced faint circles against his skin, leaving behind lipstick marks that stood out vividly against him.
Zaviyar's breath hitched as his eyes widened when he felt Safiya's hand slide lower, brushing the waistband of his sweatpants before her fingers hovered over the evident outline beneath the fabric. The change in her was sudden and dangerously effective.
Safiya, though nervous, let her hand move slowly, her touch tentative as she traced over the hard shape through the cloth.
Zaviyar's hot breath fanned against her ear as a sound escaped him, something caught between a restrained growl and a moan, his muscles tensing instantly at the mere contact, his control thinning with every second.
He huffed out a hot breath before engulfing Safiya's hand. He slowly withdrew her hand upwards, before placing ir on his chest and muttered softly, " Don't start something you are not willing to end, love. "
Her face fell, as she was suddenly reminded of the time Adeel laughed at how she refused to even kiss him and how that was a turn off. Was she so amateur that he was turned off by her?
" Am i a turn-off Zaviyar? ", she asked making his eyes widened. Were his words and actions misinterpretated? He simply didn't want to rush into things with her. He knew both of them were not ready for it.
He placed a soft kiss on her temple before lifting her up and placing her on her feet. He slowly turned her around to face the mirror, before pulling her flush against him.
" Look at you, love. With my marks...", he whispered as he leaned in close behind her, his gaze lingering on her reflection with quiet satisfaction.
Safiya gasped softly when she finally took herself in. Red marks bloomed across her neck, collarbone and earlobe, each one a whisper of how deeply he wanted her.. Heat rushed to her face as she lowered her eyes in embarrassment, her cheeks burning a deep crimson that only seemed to please him more.
That was when Zaviyar pressed himself against her slowly, deliberately and she felt the unmistakable weight of him against her back.
Her breath hitched as awareness shot through her, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
His hardness pressing against her back, his hit breath fanning against her earlobe.
She clenched her thighs, a red hue spreading on her cheeks.
" You feel this love...", he whispered into her ear, his voice low and unfiltered, " This is what you do to me. Every. Single. Time. "
She swallowed hard, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was dishevelled, his chest marked with her lipstick, her traces all over him like quiet claims. The dent in his pants was impossible to miss and the sight alone made her cheeks burn bright.
She felt him gently slide her hair to one side, his touch gentle, yet possessive. A cool sensation brushed against her skin moments before she realised what it was. A simple, shimmery necklace. Simple and elegant, its design was absolutely sas yet beautiful, resting perfectly against her skin.
" Tumhe pasand aaya...", he asked softly, watching her expression.
(Did you like it?)
" Haan bohot hee sundar hain... ", she murmured, her fingers instinctively lifting to touch it, her eyes soft with awe.
(Yes, it's very beautiful...)
" Lekin yeh kisliye? Aaj touh kuch bhi nhi hain. ", she asked, still too shy to turn around and face him fully.
(But why this? There's no occasion today...)
" Kabhi mat utarna isse.. ", he said quietly, the weight of the words heavier than the necklace itself.
(Never take it off.)
Safiya's eyes scanned the reflection of the necklace, a fine golden chain rested lightly against her skin.
At its center hung a crescent moon, shiny and curved.
Tiny cut-out stars were etched into the moon's hollowed arc.
Nestled within its cradle was a small, opalescent stone which was pale blue with a milky glow.
It shimmered softly as though it held a piece of the sky just before dawn.
" What does it mean Zaviyar? Why this? ", Safiya fingers skimmed the cedge of the golden cresent moon, her eyes fixed on the carved beauty as several questions lit up in her mind.
" Do you know when you were born what was the first name i had been given to you? ", Zaviyar asked placing his chin in her shoulder. Safiya shook her head.
" Why would you be the first one to give me a name? It should be my parents... ", she frowned.
" I was the next in line to be the heir so... "
" And what name did you give me? ", she huffed already irratted at the sudden mention of their orthodox traditions and beliefs.
"Noor..." he murmured, a slow smile curving his lips.
"For the first few days after you were born... I won't lie, you looked absolutely terrifying. Like every other newborn," he teased, laughing under his breath as Safiya shot him an offended glare.
"But then Chachi brought you home... and you were different. You were glowing. I remember it so clearly - it was Shab-e-Barat. Your face was lit up like the moon that night."
"Then why am I Safiya now?" she countered, arching a brow. He tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Because Safiya isn't far from Noor. Noor is light, radiance... the glow of the moon and the stars. And Safiya..." his voice softened, "Safiya is the purity of that light."
She studied him for a moment. "Pure? The moon has craters. Scars."
"And that's exactly why it's beautiful," he replied gently. "It shines despite them.", Her gaze lingered on him.
"Then why didn't you ever call me Noor? If you loved it so much... if you chose it."
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear.
"Safiya," he whispered, voice low and intimate, "I chose that name too, jaan."
Her breath caught. "What?", he smiled with his lower teeth.
"Both names were always mine for you.", Her pulse stumbled beneath his touch.
"You... named me twice?" she asked softly, searching his face as if the answer might be written there. He smiled but this time there was no teasing in it.
"Noor was what I saw the night you came into this world," he said quietly. "Safiya is who you became."
"And who am I now?" she whispered. He traced the curve of her jaw, reverent, almost careful.
"Now? You're both. Light that shines... and purity that survives the dark."
"You never told me.", She swallowed.
"Some things," he murmured, resting his lips against the pulse in her neck, "are meant to be revealed when the heart is ready to hear them."
"And mine is ready?" she breathed.
"It has always been," he replied.
"And yet you still hesitate before showing me your true self," she said quietly. "Do you really think I don't notice how careful you are? How you hold yourself back so I won't feel uncomfortable?", a fsint crease formed between his brows.
"I don't want to overwhelm you."
"You won't," she replied, stepping closer.
" first you treated me like a piece of trash and now you treat me like I'm fragile glass.", His jaw tightened slightly.
"Safiya... there are parts of me that aren't soft. Parts that are impatient, possessive.. I'd rather you see the better pieces."
"And who decided I only deserve the polished version? Not that I haven't seen the darker side of it. " she challenged, her voice gentle yet firm.
"You talk about my craters like they make me beautiful. Why can't yours?", He looked at her as if she had just undone something inside him.
"I'm afraid," he admitted at last. "Afraid that if I let you see everything... you might step back.", She reached for his hand, placing it over her heart.
"I won't. I didn't when you were acting like a piece of shit to me during the initial days of our marriage. Well, i won't lie. I wanted to unalive you myself. But that's for a later discussion she said. His breath faltered.
"You deserve better than me," he whispered.
"maybe...," she shook her head softly. " but now I'm with you and I'm just tired of you hiding behind tenderness."
" Safiya... ", Zaviyar called softly, making her look up at him through the mirror.
" Hmm? "
" I kept my distance because I didn't want you to ever feel cornered, to not think that I'm a fuc- horny teenager" he said quietly.
"Tell me, Safiya... do you truly want me to stop holding back?
To be with you the way I actually feel?", Her nod was curt and devastatingly sincere.
He inhaled sharply, as if bracing himself.
"You have no idea," he confessed, voice low, roughened at the edges, "how difficult it is for me to restrain myself.
To stand inches away from you and pretend I don't want to close that distance.
" he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, holding her tight enough to make her melt into him.
She slid her arms around his neck without thinking, her body yielding instinctively.
A shiver raced down her spine when he pressed a lingering kiss just below her ear. Her breath turned uneven as he nibbled softly at her neck, one hand steadying her hair from behind while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her securely against him.
" Perfect ", he murmured before adding another mark, unhurried and deliberate.
" You look perfect with my marks... Jaan.
", he said before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
She reached for a concealer instinctively but he caught the movement instantly.
Zaviyar didn't have the knowledge of what a co cealer was until recently when he saw Safiya using it to cover up a pimple.
She had threatened him to forget all about it.
" No.. don't conceal them. Not yet. ", he stopped her.
" Iss jurm ke liye touh aapke upar case hona chahiye, biwi. ", he said softly, his voice laced with fond amusement.
(You should be charged for this crime, wife.)
" Kesa jurm? ", she asked, genuinely confused.
(What crime?)
" For stealing my heart. ", her laughter slipped out before she could stop it, soft and breathless. His tone shifted then, heavy with longing and control.
" Oh how I wanna see you with nothing but my marks on you, lying under me, wearing the necklace I gave you, gajra adorning your wrists, your hands bearing the dark maroon mehendi of my name while I claim you in every sense.
", Safiya would be lying if she said she did not want exactly what he described.
Every word landed where it ached tge sweetest.
" I want to hear you scream my name while you accept me as your husband fully, with all your heart. ", her lips parted but she clamped them shut again, gasping when he gently caught her wrist, grounding her before she could unravel.
He wanted to feel her against him. But he knew it was too soon.
" I want to devour you till you can't walk for a week and then pamper you with all the love I can. ", Her fingers flew to cover his mouth instinctively, overwhelmed, before she whispered softly,
" Bas.. ", she mumbled.
" Am I making you feel uncomfortable? ", she shook her head quickly.
" N-nahi woh bas... Mujhe sharam aarahi hain... ", the breath he let out was slow and full, something close to reverence in his eyes.
(No... it's just... I feel shy...)
" Tumhari sharam ab mujhe hee hatwani paregi..", he murmured, twirling a stray strand of her hair around his finger, the simple gesture making her knees weak.
Sensing her exhaustion, Zaviyar softened instantly. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then guided her carefully onto the bed.
" You know you can kiss me... ", he smiled faintly, the kind that held patience instead of temptation.
" I know, love. I know I can. ", he said.
" Then why don't you? ", Safiya asked.
" Because you don't deserve your first kiss to be taken in a moment like this. Not when we are both breathless and undone. Not when desire is louder than intention. "'She frowned slightly, confused, her voice softer.
" Huh? "
" Your first kiss should be something you remember even years from now. Something that makes you smile with heat rushing to your cheeks. Something gentle and certain. ", he mumbled, caressing her sides.
" Stop- "
" Let me finish, please. ", He cupped her face lightly, not touching her lips, just close enough for her to feel his warmth.
" I don't want it to be something that happened because we could not resist ourselves. I want it to be something that happened because I chose you without hunger clouding the moment. ", Her eyes searched his, uncertainty creeping in.
" So... whatever just happened between us- ", she started but was cut off by him who by now knew that doubts had fogged up her mind once again...
" Was not meaningless. And it was certainly not just attraction or hormones.. ", His voice dropped, steadier now.
" Don't let your little head spiral into doubts. What we shared was real. Every touch. Every reaction. It came from care. From restraint breaking because you matter to me. "
She swallowed.
" Then why does it feel like you're holding back? ", she asked.
" Because I am. Not from you. For you. ", He rested his forehead against hers.
" I want the first time I kiss you to be when I can take my time. When I can look at you and know that you feel safe, chosen, cherished. When I can show you tenderness without wanting anything in return. ", Her breath trembled.
" You make it sound like- ", she was about to hide her face in his chest, only for him to gently lift her chin to look at him.
" Like you are not just someone I desire. Because you are not. ", He exhaled slowly, as if choosing every word with care. He gently touched their foreheads.
" You have become the one I think of before I sleep. The one whose silence I notice. The one whose comfort matters more to me than my own wants. ", Her lips parted, but no words came.
" I am not ready to say things lightly. And I refuse to give you something sacred in a moment that is ruled by want alone. ", He brushed his thumb gently along her cheek, still not kissing her.
" When I kiss you, Safiya, I want it to feel like a promise, not something that is rushed. "
Silence stretched between them. And somehow, not kissing her felt far more intimate than if he had.
Without much effort he gently lifted her up and placed her on the bed.
" Take rest, sweetheart. You need it. ", He kissed her temple tenderly and stayed there, watching as her eyes fluttered shut, her body finally relaxing as sleep claimed her.
And even then, he did not touch her again.
____________________________________
A week later
" Aap loug abse apne bachcho ko time par school bheja karenge, thik hain? ", Safiya instructed the people who stood there with their heads bowed down. The first time she tried to convince all of them, the men and some women started opposing her words.
Flashback
"This is shameless. Sending our daughters to school," a man argued, his voice sharp with disapproval.
"What is shameless about educating our girls? Apni bachchiyo ko taleem dene mein kaunsi aafat aa rahi hai aap sabko?" Safiya shot back, anger trembling beneath her steady tone.
"It goes against the rules our ancestors set," an older man declared, his voice rising as though tradition itself stood behind him.
"Do not bury your children's future for people who are already buried in their graves," Safiya said, stepping closer to the man who had been shouting. Her chin lifted, her eyes unflinching.
"We respect you a lot, Khanum, but do not speak against our traditions," one of the women said, trying to soften the tension, though her words carried a warning.
"Our ancestors were right. Educated women only create problems," a few women murmured in agreement.
Safiya let out a hollow laugh. "Really? Then look at Naima Auntie. Her uneducated son left for the city and never looked back. And now it is her daughter who feeds her by selling tea and snacks in the market."
The crowd stirred.
"Where is your logic?" Safiya continued, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "Stop dividing men and women as if Allah created one superior and the other inferior. He gave rights to both. It is you who twist the meaning of our scriptures and force silence upon women to serve your own comfort."
"How dare you speak against our forefathers?" one of the men snapped, striding toward her with fury blazing in his eyes.
" maafi maange varna", he stopped mid-step.
(Apologize, or else-)
Boots scraped against the ground behind them.
A tall figure stepped forward from the shadow of the gathering, the fading sunlight catching the sharp line of his jaw.
His presence alone silenced the noise. Broad shoulders, eyes dark and steady, carrying an aura of quiet authority Zaviyar moved with unhurriedly as if he had all the time in the world and none of it belonged to anyone else.
Safiya's eyes widened when she felt a certain pair of eyes on her, soft steps approaching her as she let out breath she didn't know she was holding.
He came to stand beside Safiya, not touching her, yet close enough that the space between them felt charged.
His gaze locked onto the man who had threatened her.
"Varna kya?" he asked quietly. The mock in his tone made it worse. It was not a question. It was a challenge. And suddenly, no one in the crowd dared to answer.
A soft smile graced her face as she leaned into the warmth slowly. She didn't have to look up to tell that it was Zaviyar who was now standing beside her and had covered her by his shawl, like always.
She didn't understand his obsession of wrapping his shawl around her but nonetheless it always made her feel calm, protected and safe.
Zaviyar after making sure his wife was alright turned to the crowd thag was once circling his sweet wife who was trying to talk to them nicely. Unlike her, he didn't see the need to talk to them sweetly. Because they were made to follow orders. His orders.
" Sahab aapki biwi- ", Zaviyar raised his hand making the man shut up at once, and lower his head.
( Sir, your wife-)
" Khanum hain woh tum sabki. "
( She is your khanam...)
"Abse gaon ke saare bachche school jayenge.
Jinki umar college jaane ki ho gayi hai, woh gaon ke bahar wale college mein jayenge jab tak yahan college banane ki permission nahi mil jaati.
Gaon ki sabhi auratein ab apni kalakriti shehron mein bechenge taaki unhe apne kaam ka sahi daam mile.
", Zaviyar's voice was calm, but it carried the weight of an unshakeable command.
( From now on, every child in this village will go to school.
Those who are old enough for college will attend the college outside the village until we receive permission to build one here.
All the women of the village will sell their handicrafts in the cities so they receive the rightful price for their work.)
He turned his head slightly toward Safiya, his gaze softening just a fraction.
"Aur kuch kehna hai aapko?", His voice lowered when he addressed her.
(Do you want to say anything else?)
Safiya gave a small nod, stepping forward so her words would reach every corner of the gathering
"Haan. Woh saare bachchon ko NGO mein shift karna hai. The ones who don't have parents and are working as servants in other people's houses." Her voice did not waver, but her eyes burned with something deeper than anger.
(Yes. All those children must be moved to an NGO. The ones who have no parents and are being made to work as servants in other people's homes.)
Zaviyar's jaw tightened as he looked back at the crowd.
"You heard what she said, right?", There was steel in his tone now, a warning hidden beneath the calm. He glanced toward his men standing at a distance.
"Ensure no one is bribed with money to leave some children out.", His expression hardened, making it clear he would not tolerate dishonesty.
"That won't happen.", One of his trusted men responded immediately, placing his hand over his chest in assurance.
A murmur rose again from the villagers. A man stepped forward, hesitation and defiance mixing in his voice.
"Lekin hukum, hum kaise yeh sab maan lein?
Auratein ghar mein achchi lagti hain. Aakhir mein toh unhe kisi doosre ghar hi jaana hota hai.
Aur yeh ladki, jiske khud ke baap ne biradri ke bahar shaadi ki, bade sarkar ke khilaaf jaakar.
Hum kaise maan lein ki inka khoon ganda nahi-", His words trailed but the insult hung heavy in the air.
A few people gasped. Some lowered their eyes.
(But sir, how can we accept all this? Women look better inside their homes. In the end, they have to go to another household anyway. And this girl, whose own father married outside the community against the elders' wishes. How do we believe that her blood is not impure-)
The sentence remained unfinished, but the accusation was clear. The silence that followed was thick and dangerous. Even the wind seemed to pause, waiting for what Zaviyar would do next.
Safiya gasped when Zaviyar plunged at that man, constantly hitting his face till he drew blood.
She staggered backwards seeing him turn absolutely feral and anomalistic.
She didn't expect things to escalate so much.
She watched as the man almost looked like he would pass out.
Just then Zaviyar grabbed the man by his collar and dragged him forward before pushing him away towards his men.
The man who was protesting was the worker of Nizam, whose son had flirted with Safiya at the fair.
Safiya walked forward before wrapping her arms around Zaviyayr's bicep, pulling him back.
" Who the hell- ", Zaviyar quickly turned around ready to empty his gun into anyone who dared stop him but his eyes softened when he saw Safiya looking at him with disappointment.
" Stop ".
One word was enough for him to calm down, withdraw himself from the man and regain his composure. He nodded before turning to Waqas who was already on his way to deal with the Nizams.
" From this moment on. Anyone who doesn't listen to her will be answerable to me. From now on, you all take orders from her. Her authority exceeds mine from now on. Even I, from this moment onwards am obliged to her authority. "
Hai words made Safiya's eyes widen as he touched her knuckles to his forehead before nodding at her. She couldn't believe what had just happened.
Safiya gulped as she turned towards the crowd who now we're looking at her with a certain respect. She knew it was because of Zaviyar but somewhere she was proud. Her husband not only had earned respect but also made sure his wife was respected by everyone.
She started talking, explaing to the people how the system would work. The children's education funded by the government, the NGO operation and also how their yield could be increased.
As she was speaking she saw some people a little shaky and nodding at something. So when she abruptly turned around she was shocked to see Zaviyar standing behind her with his arms crossed glaring at everyone, while a chain of bodyguards stood behind Zaviyar.
His face read, 'Chup chapter meri biwi ki baatein suno... Varna muh todh '
(Shut up and listen to my wife... or I will break your mouth.)
She turned around placing her hands on her hips as she glared at Zaviyar who immediately stood straight and gave her an awkward smile. Safiya shook her head before pointing towards the exit.
One glare and the nawab and all his men were out for the field with puppy faces since their madam had just kicked them out. The main sulker being their boss who was trying to sneak a peek of his wife.
" Sahab hum peeche ke raaste se jaakar Khanum ke upar nazar rakh sakte hain...", one of the young guards said who was always given chocolates by his Safiya aapi. Yes, he was the only one who had earned the privilege of calling her aapi ( sister)
" Yeh pehle batana chahiye tha na... ", Zaviyar muttered before walking ahead, " apne kaam mein dhyaan deh", Zaviyar scolded him realising his thoughts had slipped before going on the same route to watch his wife.
Flashback ends
"Thank you so much, didi. I always wanted to complete my graduation," one of the young girls said shyly, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta.
Safiya smiled and gently patted her shoulder, pride flickering in her eyes.
"Aur aap log workshop poore mann ke saath karein," Safiya said, turning toward the middle-aged women gathered nearby. Her tone was encouraging, not commanding.
The women nodded earnestly, some adjusting their sarees as if preparing themselves mentally.
(And all of you, please participate in the workshop with full dedication.)
"Aap hamare liye itna kyun kar rahi hain, bibi-ji?" one of the older women asked, her voice thick with emotion.
(Why are you doing so much for us, madam?)
"Kyuki mujhe meri taleem ne yahi sikhaya hai. Kyuki mujhe mere baba aur mama ne yahi sikhaya hai," Safiya replied softly.
Her voice lost its sharpness for a moment, replaced by warmth and quiet gratitude.
(Because this is what my education has taught me. Because this is what my father and mother have taught me.)
"Humne hi shayad Rabiya bibi ko hamesha galat samjha... aur kahin na kahin aapko bhi..." another woman admitted, lowering her gaze in regret.
(Perhaps we always misunderstood Rabiya bibi... and somewhere, we misunderstood you too.)
"It's okay. Aap log apne pairon par khade ho jayein, and there's nothing more that I desire," Safiya said with a reassuring smile.
(It's alright. If you all can stand on your own feet, there is nothing more I wish for.)
Meena amma stepped forward, with all the staff holding various gifts and equipments that Riffat had sent for all the women to start their work.
"Safiya bibi, yeh kuch cheezein hain jo bibi-jaan ne sab ko dene ko kha hain. Toh aap ek baar in sab ko apne haathon se chhoo leti...", her wrinkled hands trembled slightly as she spoke.
( Safiya bibi, these are some things Riffat bibi wax thinking of giving to everyone. So if you could just touch them once with your hands...)
"Yeh sab niyam mujhe pasand nahi. Dena hai toh simply de dein, lekin usse chho kar jatana kyun hai ki hum kuch de rahe hain?"
Safiya gently shook her head. Her voice was calm but firm, challenging the unnecessary ritual.
( I don't like these customs. If you want to give something, just give it. Why touch it to show that we are the ones giving?)
"Aap aisa na kahein. Humein khushi hogi agar yeh sab humein aapke haathon se mile," another woman insisted, her eyes hopeful.
(Please don't say that. We would feel happy if we received these things from your hands.)
"Haan, mana mat kijiye," a few others chimed in eagerly.
(Yes, please don't refuse.)
Safiya finally relented with a small smile and handed the items out herself.
"Yeh lo, achche se padhna," she told one of the girls while placing books in her hands.
(Here, study well.)
"Aapka shukriya, bibi-ji. Main yeh sab kaam karke apni beti ki shaadi kar sakungi kuch hi mahinon mein-" one woman said gratefully, clutching the materials to her chest.
(Thank you, madam. By doing this work, I will be able to marry off my daughter in just a few months-)
"What? Paagal ho gayi hain kya aap?", Safiya's voice rose sharply for the first time. The courtyard fell silent.
(What? Have you lost your mind?)
"Yeh bachchi hardly 14 ya 15 saal ki hai, aur aap iski shaadi karna chahti hain? I'm not offering you all work so that you earn and marry off your daughters. From now on, no marriage here will happen without my knowledge.", Her anger was protective, not cruel.
( This child is barely 14 or 15 years old and you want to get her married? I am not giving you work so you can earn money to marry off your daughters. From now on, no marriage will take place here without my knowledge. )
"Beta, idhar aana," Safiya called gently to the girl.
"Child, come here.", The girl stepped forward hesitantly. Safiya noticed the slim copper ring on her finger and the bangles stacked on her wrists. One by one, she removed them, her movements careful but deliberate.
"Didi..." the girl whispered nervously.
"Yes, bachcha?" Safiya asked softly.
(Yes, child?)
The girl's eyes lifted toward the heavy scarf pinned tightly over her head. She did not need to say more.
"Do you want to wear it?" Safiya asked quietly.
The girl shook her head, her voice breaking as she explained how she was being forced to wear it because her marriage had already been fixed with another family.
"Do you want to wear this?", Safiya asked the girl who atfitst looks at her mother who shakes her head.
The the girl turns to Safiya with tears welled up in her eyes, opening and closing her mouth like she wants to say something but is unable to do so.
Then after much pacification, she begins speaking.
She tells Safiya about being forced to marry, and wear all this due her engagement.
Safiya exhaled slowly. Then, without hesitation, she pulled out the pin and removed the scarf from the girl's head. Several gasps echoef around her.
"Take it when you truly want to. By your own choice.", safiya's tone was gentle but resolute.
"Wear it only when you genuinely want to. By your own decision.", she said handing her the pin and the scarf.
One by one, as if courage were contagious, the other little girls began removing their scarves too. The cloth slipped from their heads like silent rebellions falling to the ground.
Safiya stood among them, a faint smile playing on her lips. To her, it was just a piece of cloth. It held meaning only when chosen freely. Yet society had twisted it into a tool of control. Men could roam freely, unchecked, yet dictated how tightly a girl should cover herself.
If a girl wore revealing clothes, she would be branded shameless. If she covered herself entirely, people would whisper about sins she must have committed that led to her covering her face.
In the end, it was always the woman who was blamed.
Modesty was beautiful when it was chosen. But when forced in the name of tradition and honor, it became a cage.
Safiya believed modesty could be a shield, even a weapon. But she also knew it could be turned against women, shaping them into silent housewives long before they had the chance to simply be children.
" I shouldn't get any news of you all forcing them to do anything against their choice. Am i clear? ", all the people nodded. She gently patted the girls' heads before walking away.
When she glanced back and saw their shy, liberated smiles, she knew something had shifted that day. Not the whole world.
But enough to make her feel at peace.
________________________________
Safiya's thumbs moved swiftly across her phone screen, her brows drawn together as she argued with Adira over text. A faint crease sat between her brows, one that only appeared when she was both embarrassed and defensive.
Off late, Adira had made it her life's mission to tease Safiya about her honeymoon. Every time the word came up, Safiya tried to drop the topic. But Adira was relentless.
Just then, the harsh scrape of wood against marble cut through the chatter at the dining table.
Safiya looked up. Zaviyar was pulling a chair back to take his usual seat. One by one, the remaining chairs filled, the long dining table now complete. He settled down, his presence as commanding as ever, crisp white shirt sleeves folded neatly at his forearms.
He leaned slightly, trying to peek at her phone screen. When he couldn't see what she was typing, his jaw ticked in mild irritation. Without a word, he pushed his chair back with an unhurried scrape, the sound deliberate, drawing every eye in the room.
Before Safiya could even turn to look at him, he was already behind her. His hands came down on either side of her chair, fingers curling around the wooden frame. For a heartbeat, she thought he was only leaning in.
The next second, the world tilted. With effortless strength, he lifted the entire chair, with Safiya still seated in it, clean off the ground and carried her across the polished floor as if she weighed nothing more than a whisper.
A soft gasp slipped past her lips, startled at being sudden hoisted up in the air, her fingers clutching the armrests as the room shifted around her.
The chandeliers blurred, the long table moved, and then he set her down beside him at the head of the table.
The scrape of chair legs against marble echoed like a declaration.
For a moment, there was complete silence. Safiya's cheeks burned hot beneath the weight of a dozen stunned gazes. She could feel the shock anx the barely concealed amusement. She didn't dare look up immediately.
Across the table, Kabir choked so violently on his water that he actually spat it out, coughing into his sleeve. Riffat pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a smile, while Nauman leaned back in his seat, eyebrows raised in open disbelief.
Their son had turned totally shameless and jealous just because his wife was ignoring him.
And Zaviyar? He simply adjusted his cuffs, calm as ever, as though lifting his wife off the ground with a freaking chair and placing her beside him was the most natural thing in the world.
Safiya, however, wanted the earth to split open and swallow her whole. Her pulse thudded in her ears.
Her breath hitched as she realized what had just happened. Her chair now rested almost flush against his. The proximity wasn't the problem. Heat crawled up her neck. This man was insufferable.
From the forner of her eyes she saw him glaring at the device in her hand.
Safiya glared at him but Zaviyar remained entirely unfazed, tapping his foot lightly against the marble floor as he waited for her to look at him properly.
When she refused, he simply reached over and smoothly slipped her phone from her hands.
"Eat first.", His voice was low and authoritative. Possessive in a way only she understood. And just like that, the memory of their first breakfast together flickered through her mind.
She smiled at him, acting like she was shy before angling her heel with shoes and stepped on him making sure that she taught him a lesson.
She expected him to wince in pain. Only for her breath to hitch when he slid his hand on her thigh, slowly caressing it.
The tension between them was broken when Riffat called out.
"Safiya..." Riffat turned to her, drawing her back to the present. Zaviyar, meanwhile, casually added a little extra salad onto Safiya's plate while she wasn't looking. Making sure she ate more iron rich food..
"Tumne Zaviyar ko bataya?", Safiya stiffened slightly and shook her head.
(Did you tell Zaviyar?)
"Kya batana hain mujhe?", Zaviyar's gaze shifted between the two women.
(What is it that I need to be told?)
"Woh Rabiya ki call aayi thi... Rabiya aur Wajahat kuch dino ke liye Safiya ko Almora bula rahe hain-", Zaviyar's spoon halted in the air as the words sunk in.
(Rabiya had called... Rabiya and Wajahat are inviting Safiya to Almora for a few days-)
"Kyu? Kitne dino ke liye?", gis tone sharpened instantly.
(Why? For how many days?)
"Haan, ammi. Meri baat hui thi mama se.", Safiya said making Zaviyar's head snap at her.
(Yes, Ammi. I spoke to Mama.)
"Tumne mujhe nahi bataya?", he asked placing the spoon down.
(You didn't tell me?)
"Uhm... main batane wali thi-", she started.
(I was going to tell you-)
But before she could finish, Zaviyar stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He didn't touch his food. Safiya stared at his retreating figure in disbelief before quickly excusing herself, asking Mansi to send their food upstairs. She hurried out after him.
The night air was cooler, scented faintly with jasmine. She saw him walking toward the garden, his strides long.
By the time she reached the gazebo, she noticed a dark silhouette seated at its edge. A small spark lit and dimmed repeatedly in the darkness.
It was Zaviyar, flicking the lighter she had once gifted him, the tiny flame flaring and dying in rhythmic frustration. Something was bothering him. And she knew exactly what.
"Tum nahi jaogi?", He didn't look at her immediately. His eyes shifted toward her briefly before turning away again.
(You won't go, right?)
"Tum hote kaun ho-", his words made her snap.
(And who are you to say that-)
"Tumhara shohar hoon. Main jo kahunga tumhe wahi karna hoga. Tum wahan nahi jaogi-", Safiya's eyes widened at his words, she stalked towards him ready to strangle him for acting like a piece of shit.
(I am your husband. Whatever I say, you'll have to do. You won't go there-)
"Main kyun-", before she could argue, she was suddenly pulled down which made her end up in his arms.
(Why should I-)
"Mazaak kar raha tha. Main jaanta hoon agar yeh kahunga toh tum meri zubaan kheench logi-", he murmured adjusting her on hsi lap before he leaned against the pillar, his one arm securing her in place while the other was thrown over her lap.
(I was joking. I know if I said that seriously, you'd pull my tongue out-)
"Though I really don't want you to go.", His lips curved faintly.
"Why?", she asked with a tilt of her head.
"Kyunki tum meri aadat ban chuki ho, Safiya.", his words didn't help much, as she turned redder than a cherry. Her face flushed under the moonlight.
(Because you've become my habit, Safiya.)
"Kab jaa rahi ho?", he asked leaning in closer, his eyes flickering down at the pendant that rested a little above the valley of her breasts.
(When are you leaving?)
"Parso. Subah niklungi.", she whispered looking down, as her fingers slowly drew pattens on the back of his hand. Her eyes scanned the wedding band he was wearing.
(Day after tomorrow. I'll leave in the morning.)
"Thik hai. Chali jaanaa.", She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Bas raat tak wapas aa jaana.", she began lightly hitting his arm repeatedly, and he burst into laughter.
(Okay, you should go. Just make sure you're back by night.)
"Sorry, sorry. Mazaak kar raha tha.", he apologised, his hearty laugh sounded like music to her ears.
(Sorry, sorry. I was joking.)
"Kya tumhe kal court jaana hai?", she shook her head.
(Do you have to go to court tomorrow?)
"Nahi. Kal nahi jaana."
(No. I don't have to go tomorrow.)
"Then are you willing to spend the whole day with me tomorrow?", he asked, slowly sliding his hand over her, their fingers merging.
"Huh-"
"Will you go out on a date with me?", he asked once again seeing teh look of utter shock wash over her.
"I need some time to think-", she said, rolling her eyes. She loved teasing him.
"Take as much time as you need.", he placed a soft peck on her temple. " I would say that if you were here - but for now, I can give you five minutes.", She folded her arms at his audacity.
"You do realize that you're a red flag, right?", she said, playfully glaring at him.
"Matlab?", he asked, looking at her with puppy eyes as he placed his chin on her shoulder.
(What do you mean?)
"Matlab ki main nahi ja rahi kisi date-shate pe.", she shrugged her shoulders.
(It means I'm not going on any date or anything.)
"Thik hai...", he nodded.
(Alright...)
"Itni aasani se kaise maan gaye tum?", She blinked.
(How did you agree so easily?)
"Kisne kaha ki main maan gaya?", Safiya's eyebrows creased at his sudden confession.
(Who said I agreed?)
"Aap ko apne naazuk-o-lateef qadamain ko ranj-o-mehnat se do-chaar karne ki hargiz zarurat nahin.
Aap ke shohar-e-mohtaram maujood hain, jo aap ko ba-izzat apni baahon mein utha kar le jaane ki sa'adat haasil kar sakte hain.
", He suddenly straightened, adopting a mock-formal tone.
His grin widening, his eyes flirty as he looked no less than adonis himself.
(You have absolutely no need to subject your delicate and graceful feet to hardship and exertion. Your respected husband is present, who can attain the honor of lifting you in his arms and carrying you away with dignity.)
"Main kahin nahi ja rahi.", Safiya rolled her eyes dramatically.
(I'm not going anywhere.)
"Abhi chachi ko call karke batata hoon ki tum almora nahi ja sakogi.", he quickly fetched his phone, happy to hear her rejection.
(I'll call Aunt right now and tell her you won't be able to go.)
"Main tumhare saath kahin nahi ja rahi.", she said, being more specific.
(I'm not going anywhere with you.)
"Kyun? Main pasand nahi hoon kya?", he asked.
(Why? You don't like me?)
"Zara sa bhi nahi.", she said, trying to shoo him away only for him to pull her closer by tightly wrapping hai arms around her.
(Not even a little.)
"Kal subah 8 baje tayyar rahiyega.", he said with a soft smile.
(Be ready tomorrow at 8 a.m.)
"Kal meri chhutti hai. Mujhe subah itni jaldi nahi uthna.", she poured.
(Tomorrow is my day off. I'm not waking up that early.)
"Aap toh pehle mujhse aage utha karti thi... Ya phir main yeh samjhun ki aapko meri baahon mein sukoon ki neend aati hai?", Safiya scoff3d trying to loosen his hold. She wouldn't accept that she was feeling shy. Never.
(You used to wake up before me... Or should I assume that you sleep peacefully in my arms?)
"Khushfahmiyan na paalein.", she glared at him.
(Don't entertain such delusions.)
"Haqeeqat hai yeh, biwi.", She laughed softly,
(That's the truth, wife.)
"Kya hua? Has kyun rahi ho?", he asked.
(What happened? Why are you laughing?)
"Yaad hai pehli baar jab main yahan aayi thi... Aur galti se west wing mein chali gayi thi? Tum tab mujhe 'ladki' bulaya karte the...", He nodded, remembering how much both of them hated each other.
(Do you remember the first time I came here... and accidentally walked into the west wing? You used to call me 'girl' back then...)
"Tab humein yeh nahi pata tha ki woh ladki meri hone wali biwi hai.", he whispered softly, letting out a sigh as he inhaled her soothing scent.
(Back then, I didn't know that that girl would become my future wife.)
"Tum mujhse jitni nafrat karte the, kabhi nahi karte mere saath shaadi.", she mumbled..
(If you truly hated me that much, you would never have married me.)
"Maazi ki baaton ko yaad karke koi faida nahi. Kyunki ab tumhara mere saath na hona mere liye kisi bhayanak sapne jaisa hai.", His expression softened.
(There's no point remembering the past. Because now, you not being with me feels like a terrible nightmare.)
"Ishhh... Kitne cheesy ho tum.", She scrunched her nose.
(Ugh... you're so cheesy.)
" Room mein chalo, dikhata hoon kitna cheesy hoon main...", He leaned closer, voice lowering before lifting her up which made her gasp as he carried her towards their room.
(Let me show you just how cheesy I am...)