Chapter 22: part 4

The house was unusually quiet that evening, with most of the family attending a late-night gathering. Farhaan had opted to stay back, citing fatigue from the long journey, while Shiza had used the excuse of an upcoming pharmacy test to avoid going.

Shiza sat cross-legged on the plush carpet in the living room, her books spread around her as she tried to focus on her notes. Farhaan, lounging on the sofa with his laptop, glanced at her every now and then.

“You’ve been staring at that page for ten minutes,” Farhaan commented, his voice breaking the silence.

Shiza looked up, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’m studying, Farhaan. Unlike you, I have exams to worry about.”

He chuckled, setting his laptop aside. “If you’re studying, then I’m a professional chef. Admit it, you’re stuck, and you don’t want to ask for help.”

She rolled her eyes and looked back at her notes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you married me,” he shot back with a smirk.

Shiza sighed dramatically, closing her book. “Fine. What’s your brilliant suggestion, Mr. Saiyed?”

Farhaan stood and walked over to where she was sitting, crouching down to her level. “First, stop stressing. You’ll ace this test; you always do.”

His proximity made her heartbeat quicken, but she kept her face composed. “That’s not advice; that’s just flattery.”

He leaned closer, his smirk softening into a playful grin. “Okay, how about this: take a break. Let’s do something to clear your mind.”

“And what exactly do you suggest?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Farhaan sat down beside her, their shoulders almost touching. “Let’s play a game. I’ll ask you questions, and for every right answer, I’ll...” He paused, pretending to think. “...give you a reward.”

Shiza’s curiosity piqued despite herself. “What kind of reward?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ll see. But if you get something wrong, you have to answer one of my questions truthfully.”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Fine. Ask away.”

Farhaan grinned, leaning back slightly. “First question: What’s my favorite color?”

Shiza answered without hesitation. “Blue.”

“Correct,” he said, pulling a small chocolate from his pocket and handing it to her.

She laughed, taking it. “You planned this?”

“Always prepared, Mrs. Saiyed.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping a notch. “Next question: When’s my birthday?”

Shiza frowned. “That’s too easy. April 12th.”

“Impressive.” He handed her another chocolate, their fingers brushing briefly, sending a spark up her arm.

As the game went on, their laughter filled the room, and the distance between them grew smaller. At one point, Farhaan asked a trick question, and Shiza got it wrong.

“Alright, your turn,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Answer truthfully: When did you first like me?”

Shiza’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her hands. “That’s a personal question.”

“That’s the point,” he teased, nudging her gently.

She took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “It was before our nikaah. I overheard you joking with Azeem, and I thought... you seemed kind and funny.”

Farhaan’s smile softened, and for a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes holding an emotion she couldn’t quite name.

“My turn,” she said quickly, trying to change the subject. “When did you start liking me?”

Farhaan smirked but didn’t hesitate. “The day I saw you in the kitchen when I came back. The way you looked so nervous yet graceful... it was impossible not to.”

Shiza’s breath caught, and the air between them grew charged. Farhaan reached out, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “Shiza, I like you. A lot,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her heart raced as she looked into his eyes. “I like you too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

A slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned in just enough for their foreheads to touch. They stayed like that for a moment, their connection deepening with unspoken words.

“See? This is a much better study break,” he murmured, making her laugh.

“Farhaan, you’re impossible,” she said, her cheeks still warm, but there was no mistaking the happiness in her voice.

The evening took a cozy turn as Shiza wandered into the kitchen, tying her apron while rummaging through the fridge. Farhaan leaned against the doorway, watching her with an amused expression.

“Need help, Mrs. Saiyed?” he asked, his tone dripping with mock politeness.

Shiza shot him a look over her shoulder. “I’m fine, Farhaan. You’d only slow me down.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping into the kitchen. “Ouch. That’s no way to talk to your husband, who just so happens to be a decent cook.”

“Decent?” She smirked, chopping vegetables. “I’ve seen you burn toast, Farhaan.”

He held his chest dramatically, pretending to be hurt. “That was one time, and the toaster was clearly broken. Let me prove myself.”

Before she could object, he rolled up his sleeves and stood beside her. “What’s the plan, chef?”

Shiza sighed, handing him a cutting board. “Fine. Dice these onions. But no complaints if you start crying.”

Farhaan chuckled, picking up a knife. “Please, Shiza. I don’t cry; I’m too manly for that.”

Two minutes in, his eyes were red and watery. Shiza couldn’t suppress her laughter as she watched him blink furiously. “You were saying?”

He dropped the knife, pointing at the onions. “These are weapons of mass destruction. Who even eats these willingly?”

Shiza shook her head, giggling as she took over. “Go stir the sauce instead. At least you can’t mess that up.”

Farhaan stood by the stove, occasionally sneaking glances at her as she moved around the kitchen with ease. When she reached up to grab a spice jar, he leaned over and grabbed it for her, their hands brushing briefly.

“You could’ve asked,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“I don’t need your help,” she replied, her cheeks slightly pink.

“Sure you don’t,” he teased, moving closer. “But admit it, this is fun.”

She tried to ignore the flutter in her chest as they continued cooking, their banter filling the kitchen. By the time dinner was ready, the aroma of their efforts filled the house.

As they sat down to eat, Farhaan took a bite and nodded approvingly. “Not bad, Mrs. Saiyed. Maybe I’ll let you cook for me more often.”

Shiza rolled her eyes, hiding her smile. “You’re welcome, Mr. Saiyed. And don’t forget you helped.”

After cleaning up, they found themselves in Shiza’s room, the day’s events leaving them both pleasantly tired. Farhaan sat on the edge of her bed, looking around. “You have a cozy room,” he remarked.

Shiza smiled, sitting beside him. “Thanks. It’s my little sanctuary.”

He leaned back against the headboard, patting the spot beside him. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment before joining him, resting her head on his shoulder. Farhaan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“This feels nice,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Shiza looked up at him, her eyes warm. “It does.”

They sat in comfortable silence, their closeness speaking volumes. As the night deepened, Farhaan shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket around them. “Stay here,” he said, his tone firm but gentle.

Shiza blushed but nodded, resting her head against his chest. “Goodnight, Farhaan.”

He kissed the top of her head, a small smile on his lips. “Goodnight, Shiza.”

Wrapped in each other’s warmth, they drifted off to sleep, the bond between them growing stronger with each passing moment.