Chapter 49 #7
Both of them knew exactly how this would go. Rabiya would remember at least five things she needed only after Safiya had already left the house... or worse, when she was halfway back. And Safiya would complain the entire time, while buying every single item anyway.
"Tum chaloge saath?" Safiya asked suddenly, pointing at Zaviyar.
(Will you come with me?)
The question caught him completely off guard.
"Kahan?" he asked, already rising from the sofa out of habit.
(Where?)
"Supermarket jayenge. Paas hi hai." She slipped her arm through his and began tugging him towards the front door before he could even process what was happening.
(We'll go to the supermarket. It's just nearby.)
"Aise?", He glanced down at both of them and frowned.
(Like this?)
Safiya looked at herself before looking back at him in confusion.
"Ab kya? Paas ki shop jaane ke liye salwar kameez pehnu?", She rolled her eyes dramatically.
(What now? Should I wear a salwar kameez just to go to the nearby shop?)
Without waiting for his answer, she looked over her shoulder.
"Bye, Mumma! Hum thodi der mein aayenge.", She waved cheerfully before pulling the front door shut behind them.
(Bye, Mumma! We'll be back after a while.)
Inside the house, Rabiya remained standing where she was. She tapped her foot against the floor, patiently waiting until she heard the main gate open... then close.
Only then did she pull out her phone. The call connected almost instantly.
"Do anything... but postpone the transfer of the main office to the outskirts of the town.", Her voice was calm.
Yet heavy with guilt.
'I'm sorry, Safiya... but I'm doing this for you. Either stay with us or you stay alive'
"Yeh dekho... meri bike!"
(Look... my bike!)
Parked proudly in the far corner stood her bike, polished until it gleamed under the garage lights. Safiya walked straight to it and lovingly ran her fingers over the fuel tank.
"Isse Azamgarh le jayenge, okay? Mujhe apne Handsome ke bina bilkul chain nahi aata.", She affectionately kissed the bike's headlight.
(We'll take this to Azamgarh, okay? I can't live peacefully without my Handsome.)
Zaviyar stared. Then slowly looked at her. Then back at the bike.
"...Yeh Handsome?", His brows knitted together.
(...This is Handsome?)
"Tumne apni bike ka naam rakha hua hai?", Safiya nodded enthusiastically.
(You've actually named your bike?)
"Haan! Sab rakhte hain."
(Yes! Everyone does.)
A muscle ticked in Zaviyar's jaw. His voice turned noticeably colder.
"Mujhe toh tumne kabhi Handsome... ya Sweetheart kehkar nahi bulaya."
(You've never called me Handsome... or Sweetheart.)
While Safiya continued admiring her bike, completely oblivious, Zaviyar subtly nudged the tyre with the side of his shoe.
"Aaya bada... Handsome.'
Safiya finally looked at him and burst into laughter.
"Calm down, mere jal kukde."
(Calm down, my jealous rooster.)
Standing on her toes, she pressed a quick kiss against his cheek. His eyes narrowed.
"Ek baar aur mujhe woh bulaya na... toh yahin kekda ban ke kaat loonga tumhe.", His hand landed in a quick, playful swat against her hip.
(Call me that one more time... and I'll bite you like a crab right here.)
"Ohho... bade naughty ho rahe ho tussi.", Safiya gasped dramatically, her eyes widening.
(Oh... someone's getting very naughty.)
Grinning, she raised her own hand, intending to return the favour. Before she could, Zaviyar caught her wrist. With one swift tug, he pulled her directly against him. Barely an inch separated them.
"Don't provoke me, Safiya.", His voice was low, his gaze unwavering. She merely rolled her eyes.
"Oho... tum karo toh flirting. Main karun toh provoking?"
(Oh please... when you do it, it's flirting. When I do it, it's provoking?)
The corner of his mouth lifted.
"Fine... continue. That is, if you want me to claim my wife right here... against her beloved bike."
The confidence in his tone made Safiya's breath hitch. Her eyes grew noticeably wider.
"Ashleel ho tum..." she muttered. She tried to turn away to hide the smile threatening to appear.
(You're shameless...)
"Bas... aapke saath, biwi."
(Only with you... because I'm your wife.)
Immediately, she clamped both hands over his mouth as he leaned dangerously closer, clearly ready with another teasing reply.
"Nope."
"Not another word."
Quickly changing the subject, she pointed towards the other side of the garage.
"Woh rahi hamari sawaari."
(There's our ride.)
Zaviyar followed the direction of her finger. His eyes landed on the parked BMW. He frowned.
" Pass ke mall tak BMW mein ja rahe hain?"
(We're taking the BMW to the mall nearby?)
Safiya sighed.
"Arey... thoda side mein toh dekho.", She placed a hand beneath his chin and gently turned his face.
(Oh, look a little to the side.)
His gaze shifted... and froze. Parked beside the BMW was a cute scooter.
Zaviyar stared at it for a full three seconds.
Then, he looked back at Safiya.
Then at the scooter again.
Absolute horror spread across his face.
( The helmet ?????? )
"I'm not getting on that. Never.", His declaration echoed through the garage.
Safiya only folded her arms, trying and failing not to laugh. It was a pastel-colored scooty, cute enough to make anyone smile.
It didn't suit Safiya's sharp, intimidating lawyer persona in the slightest, but she adored it anyway. It had been with her through countless grocery runs, late-night ice cream cravings and spontaneous coffee trips. It wasn't luxurious but it was hers.
She patted the handle proudly before looking over her shoulder with a mischievous grin.
"That's your chariot... and I'm the charioteer."
With practiced ease, she slipped the key into the ignition, turned the scooty around and stopped right in front of him with an expectant smile.
Zaviyar looked from the tiny vehicle to her, then back at the vehicle again. His brows climbed higher.
"I'm not sitting on that.", He pointed an accusing finger toward the narrow backseat as though it had personally offended him. Then his eyes landed on the helmet resting on the handle.
" And I'm definitely not wearing this. "", It was a brown helmet, and had a cute bear print.
Safiya blinked once before giving an indifferent shrug.
She got off the scooty without another word and walked toward the helmet stand.
"I bought this especially for my future partner... because I wanted us to wear matching helmets.", Her voice had softened by the end.
"It's okay... if you don't want to.", She carefully placed the bear helmet back and reached for a plain matte-black one instead.
"You can wear this."
For some reason, the small disappointment hidden behind her casual smile bothered Zaviyar far more than it should have.
Without saying a word, he strode over.
Before she could hand him the black helmet, he snatched the bear one from her hands.
"Chalo.", He held the ridiculous helmet under his arm as though it had been his choice all along.
(Let's go.)
Safiya's face instantly brightened. A grin spread across her lips as she hurried back to the scooty, climbed onto the front seat, and waited while Zaviyar reluctantly settled behind her.
As soon as he sat down, he awkwardly kept both hands to himself. Safiya looked over her shoulder.
"Kas ke pakdo. Gir vir gaye na mein utha bhi nhi sakungi"
(Hold on tight. If you fall i won't even be able tocarry you.)
Without waiting for permission, she took his wrists and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Heat crept up Zaviyar's neck. He hesitated only a second before gently pulling her a little closer.
"Pakda hua hai."
(I'm holding on.)
Satisfied, Safiya twisted the accelerator. The scooty buzzed onto the road. People turned to look as they passed. Some looked surprised. Some couldn't help smiling.
It wasn't every day they saw a tall, broad-shouldered, perpetually intimidating man sitting behind his wife on a tiny pastel scooty while both of them wore matching bear printed helmets.
The contrast was almost comical.
______________________________________
By the time they reached the supermarket, Zaviyar barely had the chance to look around before Safiya grabbed his wrist and dragged him straight toward the snack aisle.
His eyes widened as she began tossing packets into the trolley one after another.
"So many snacks?", Zaviyar asked.
"Haan. Azamgarh jaungi toh saath le jaungi.", She nodded matter-of-factly.
(Yes. When I go back to Azamgarh, I'll take them with me.)
She was simply restocking what she proudly called her "snack pantry." Zaviyar silently reached toward the shelves.
Then another.
And another.
Soon he was filling the trolley faster than she was. Safiya stared in disbelief.
"Arre! Itna bhi mat lijiye! Main itna sab kaise khatam karungi?"
(Hey! Don't buy this much! How am I supposed to finish all of this?)