39.

Three days had passed, and Feras had hardly left Anam's side. His work had become secondary, only drawing him away when an emergency arose or when he needed to retrieve their belongings from home. Otherwise, the hospital had become his world... a place where he remained steadfastly by Anam's side. He would talk to her for hours, sometimes about mundane things, sometimes sharing stories from their past to help her remember. And when her thoughts turned to her parents, he would comfort her, his presence had become a quiet g pillar of strength.

This Anam was different from the one before her memory loss. She was untouched by the weight of the taunts and struggles she had endured, free from the sharp edges that pain had carved into her. This Anam was carefree, lighthearted, and he adored her for it. Yet, he still cherished the matureness of the Anam before... both versions held a special place in his heart.

One afternoon, as sunlight poured gently into the room, the doctor entered with a clipboard in hand. Her smile was warm and reassuring. "Anam," she began, "I've reviewed your reports, and I'm happy to say you're ready to go home."

Anam froze for a moment, processing her words, and then let out an excited squeal. "Really?!" Her voice was filled with joy, and she practically bounced in her seat.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed with a laugh. "But remember, you still need to rest and recover."

Feras, standing by the window, turned at the sound of her excitement. He couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Calm down, Anam," he said in his usual tone, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. "You're not going to explore the planet. It's just a short drive home."

She shot him a playful pout but couldn't contain her happiness. "I'm just so excited to finally leave this room!"

During these days, her cousins had visited her often. Pari, Seher, and Ayan had come to check on her. While she enjoyed their company and lively conversations, they couldn't stay at the hospital all the time. Now, the prospect of going home made her giddy, though a nervous energy lingered beneath her excitement.

Feras took charge as always, ensuring their belongings were packed and loaded into the car. Anam watched him quietly, her heart swelling. Every action of his, no matter how small, was steeped in care and attention.

Once everything was ready, Feras helped Anam into the car, his hands firm but gentle as he guided her. As he settled into the driver's seat and started the car, he glanced at her. She was unusually quiet, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, her gaze focused on the passing scenery.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice steady but curious. "Why are you so nervous?"

Anam hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how it's going to be there. It's been so long since I've been to the bungalow. Before... before everything happened, Ayub and I only went there rarely. It never felt like home. And now... without my parents..." Her voice cracked, and she trailed off, tears glistening in her eyes.

Feras's jaw tightened as he glanced at her. His voice dropped to a stern, reassuring tone. "Anam, it's going to be okay. You're not alone. I'm here, and I'll make sure everything is fine. You understand?"

Her tears spilled over, and she quickly wiped them away, but they kept coming. The thought of her parents, of everything she had lost, overwhelmed her. Feras noticed her trembling hands and pulled the car over to the side of the road.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned to face her fully. His expression was firm, yet his eyes softened as he reached out, gently taking her hand in his. "Stop thinking about what you can't change. Think about what you have now. You have Ayub. You have me. We're your family."

She nodded slowly, her tears still flowing. "I miss them so much," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"I know," he said softly, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "And I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But you're stronger than this, Anam. You'll get through it, and I'll make sure of that."

She looked up at him, her vision blurred with tears, and gave a small, shaky nod. His presence was steady and grounding, and though the pain in her heart didn't fade, she felt comfort in his words.

After a few moments, Feras let go of her hand and started the car again. The rest of the drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine. Anam leaned back in her seat, her gaze fixed on the horizon, her thoughts still heavy with memories of her parents but accompanied by the faint reassurance of Feras's presence.

When they finally arrived at the bungalow, Feras parked the car and turned to her once more. "We're here," he said, his voice steady. "Take a deep breath."

Anam did as he said, her nerves still taut but slightly eased by his tone. As she stepped out of the car with his help, she looked up at the house... a place she would now have to call home. The mix of emotions in her chest was overwhelming, but she knew, deep down, that as long as Feras was there, she could face whatever came next...

As Anam and Feras walked into the house, the lively atmosphere filled the air, the warm greetings of her cousins echoing through the hallway. Pari, Ayan, and Ayub chorused in unison, "Welcome home!" their voices full of excitement. The joy in the air was palpable, but not everyone shared in it.

Seher and Chachi were seated on the couch, their expressions as cold as ever, watching Anam with an unspoken distaste that didn't escape her notice. Anam, however, chose to ignore their looks, a playful smile lighting up her face. The atmosphere in the room shifted as Ayan, began cracking jokes, making everyone burst into laughter.

As the group laughed and chatted, Feras silently observed from the side. His lips curved into a soft smile at seeing her so carefree, but his practical side took over. "Alright, enough socializing," he said in a firm voice, stepping forward. "Anam needs to rest."

Anam immediately protested. "But I'm having so much fun!" she whined, clinging to Ayub's arm.

Feras raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Anam."

She pouted, but one look at his stern expression had her sighing in defeat. "Fine," she muttered, letting him gently take her wrist and lead her away.

Well, not exactly lead... he was practically dragging her.

As they climbed the stairs, Anam's curiosity got the better of her. "Wait," she said, glancing at him. "We're going to your room?"

"Our room," Feras corrected, not even glancing at her as he pushed open the door.

Her steps faltered. "Wait, we're staying in the same room?" Her voice was laced with disbelief, and a rosy blush began to creep up her cheeks.

Feras stopped and turned to look at her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "Obviously," he said, his tone calm but firm. "We're married, Anam. Where else would you stay?"

Anam's face turned an even deeper shade of red. She looked down, biting her lip to hide the shy smile threatening to break through. "Oh," she whispered.

He smirked slightly at her reaction, finding her flustered state endearing. "Come on," he said, guiding her into the room.

The door clicked shut behind them, and Anam's eyes widened as she took in the space. The room was beautiful... simple yet elegant, with a large bed draped in soft white linens, a cozy seating area by the window, and a few personal touches that made it feel like home. Her gaze lingered on the little details, wondering how much of it was Feras and how much had been changed for her.

Feras placed her bag by the wardrobe, then turned to see her standing in the middle of the room, looking completely lost in thought. He walked over to her, his movements uncharacteristically quiet.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice softer now.

Anam jumped slightly, startled by how close he was. She nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. "It's beautiful," she admitted, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the bed.

He crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the wardrobe as he watched her. "Good. Because this is where you'll be staying from now on. With me."

She blushed again, her eyes darting to the floor. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Feras smirked at her shyness. Taking a step closer, he tilted her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Why are you blushing so much, Anam?" he teased, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness.

Her heart skipped a beat at his closeness, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. "I'm not used to this," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "You better start getting used to it," he said, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

The intensity in his eyes made her chest tighten. There was something so raw and genuine in his expression that it made her feel both vulnerable and safe at the same time.

Before she could overthink it, Feras stepped back, breaking the tension. "Ao," he said, motioning toward the bed. "You need to rest." (Come)

Anam hesitated, still feeling the warmth of his touch on her skin. "I'm not tired," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

He raised an eyebrow. "Anam."

There it was again... her name in that commanding tone. She sighed dramatically but climbed onto the bed, settling against the pillows. Feras pulled a blanket over her, his movements gentle.

As he straightened up, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes shining with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"For... everything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then he leaned down, his face mere inches from hers. "You don't need to thank me, Anam," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Tum meri zindaghi ho Anam, and I'll never take you for granted again" (You're my life, Anam. And I'll never take you for granted again.)

Her heart swelled at his words, now, she felt truly at home... not because of the room, but because of him.

.....

The dining table was alive with the sounds of clinking cutlery and cheerful chatter. Ahmed and Salman had returned home just in time for dinner and warmly welcomed Anam.

Feras sat beside her, his protective presence like a shield against any negativity. But she couldn't help noticing the sharp, disdainful glares from Chachi and Seher. Their looks were unmistakably laced with disgust, and it made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

Leaning slightly toward Feras, she whispered, "Feras, chachi aur Seher meri taraf aise kyu dekh rahin hain?" (Feras, why are Chachi and Seher looking at me like that?)

Feras followed her gaze, his dark eyes locking onto Chachi and Seher. His expression hardened, and a cold glare formed on his face. It was as if the temperature at the table dropped several degrees. Chachi and Seher, noticing his gaze, quickly diverted their eyes and focused on their plates, their discomfort evident.

The moment of awkward silence was broken by Chachi's sharp voice. She cleared her throat, glancing at Anam with a faux-friendly smile. "So, Anam," she began, her tone overly casual, "now that you're back, when do you plan to start working in the kitchen again?"

Anam froze mid-bite, her eyes wide with surprise. She hadn't expected that. A quick glance at Feras showed that his expression had darkened further, but before he could speak, Anam, wanting to avoid confrontation, hesitantly said, "Maybe tomor—"

"Enough," Feras' voice cut through the room like a blade, cold and commanding. The entire table went silent as all eyes turned to him. His sharp gaze settled on Chachi. "Anam just came back from the hospital, and you're already thinking about making her work in the kitchen?"

Chachi's smug expression faltered, but she opened her mouth to protest. Feras didn't let her. "Instead of bothering Anam, why don't you teach your own daughter to be useful?" His glare shifted to Seher, who immediately looked down, her face burning with humiliation. "Seher is the same age as Anam, isn't she? Yet she doesn't know how to lift a finger. Maybe it's time you focused on her instead of always targeting Anam."

Seher's cheeks turned a deep red, and Chachi's nostrils flared as she glared at Feras. "She's not married yet!" Chachi hissed defensively, her tone sharp.

"And whose fault is that?" Feras countered without missing a beat, his voice dripping with disdain. His words were calculated, and they hit their mark perfectly. Chachi's lips pressed into a thin line, her face a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Seher looked as though she wanted to disappear entirely.

The tension was suffocating until Ahmed's deep voice broke through, authoritative and firm. "That's enough," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He glanced pointedly around the table, his expression a clear warning for everyone to behave.

The table fell silent, and the rest of the dinner was consumed without further incident. Feras stayed close to Anam, offering her small reassurances through subtle gestures...a squeeze of her hand under the table, a soft look when her gaze wavered. Anam felt a quiet comfort in knowing that no matter what, Feras would always stand by her.

.....

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room as Feras gently tucked Anam into the bed. He adjusted the blanket around her, making sure she was comfortable before removing her dupatta and draping it neatly over the chair.

"Here," he said softly, holding out her medicine with a glass of water. Anam scrunched her nose but obediently took the pills, her gaze fixed on him with admiration as he moved about.

Instead of heading to his study, as he often did, Feras picked up his laptop and settled beside her on the bed, his focus immediately shifting to the screen. The rhythmic sound of his typing filled the room, creating a comforting backdrop.

Anam, snug under the blanket, peeked her head out and found herself staring at him. His sharp features were illuminated by the glow of the laptop, his concentration giving him an intensity that made her heart flutter. She couldn't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, even while immersed in work.

Without looking away from his screen, Feras asked, "Kya hua Anam? tum abhi tak soyi qyu nhi?".(What is it, Anam? Why are you still not sleeping?)

Anam hesitated for a moment, then, with wide, innocent eyes, she said softly, "I want to eat ice cream. Can I? Please?"

Feras froze mid-typing, slowly turning his head to look at her. His brows lifted slightly, and he stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether she was serious. When he saw her hopeful expression, he sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"It's the middle of the night," he said, his voice low and firm, though there was no real harshness in it. "You just had your medicine. Ice cream is out of the question."

"But Feras..." she whined, her lips forming a perfect pout, her eyes wide and pleading. "I really want it. Just a little bit?" She clasped her hands together in mock prayer, her tone dripping with sweetness.

He leaned back against the headboard, pinching the bridge of his nose in mock exasperation. "Anam, you just got out of the hospital. Ice cream isn't going to help you heal," he replied, trying to sound stern.

Her pout deepened, and she looked down at the blanket, her fingers fidgeting with the edge. "Fine," she mumbled dramatically, "I'll just dream about it then."

Feras couldn't hold back the small smile tugging at his lips. Her childlike antics were both amusing and endearing. Closing his laptop, he set it aside and turned toward her fully.

"Alright, fine," he sighs in defeat. "But only a little, and you'll have to wait here while I get it."

Anam's face lit up with joy, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you, Feras! You're the best!"

Feras shook his head, muttering under his breath about how impossible she was. "Stay in bed," he said firmly before standing up and leaving the room.

A few minutes later, he returned with a small bowl of vanilla ice cream. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he held it out to her with a mock scowl. "If you don't finish this in two minutes, I'm taking it back," he teased.

Anam giggled, taking the bowl eagerly. "Two minutes? I can finish this in one!" she declared, her happiness palpable as she took her first spoonful.

As she ate, Feras leaned back against the headboard , watching her with a mixture of amusement and affection. Her carefree joy was infectious, these days she often made him feel a warmth in his chest that he couldn't quite put into words.

"You're unbelievable," he said, shaking his head but unable to stop the small smile that lingered on his lips.

"And you're the best husband ever," she replied cheekily, taking another bite.

Feras raised a brow, his smirk growing. "I'll remind you of that the next time you complain."

Anam laughed, and then tucked herself back inside the blanket.

The soft hum of Feras' laptop filled the room again, as Anam, tucked under the blanket, turned to face the other side.

Quietly, she reached for her phone on the nightstand, lowering the brightness to its dimmest setting. She opened her favorite book app, the words on the screen drawing her in as she lost herself in the world of stories.

Feras, engrossed in his work, remained oblivious for a while. The steady click of keys and the occasional shift of papers marked his focus. Two hours later, he finally closed his laptop with a quiet sigh of relief. Stretching slightly, he placed the device on the side table and turned toward Anam, intending to check on her before settling in for the night.

As he leaned closer, he noticed the faint glow of her phone screen lighting up her face beneath the blanket. His brows furrowed instantly.

Instead of resting, as she should have been, she was scrolling on her phone.

Feras' expression hardened, a flash of frustration crossing his face. He leaned forward, swift and silent, and snatched the phone from her hands in one smooth motion.

Anam gasped audibly, her eyes wide with shock as she turned to face him. The blanket slipped slightly off her shoulders, and she stared at his stern expression with a mix of guilt and horror.

"Feras!" she exclaimed, her voice a startled whisper. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice low but laced with irritation. "The real question is, what are you doing, Anam? Do you have any idea how important it is for you to rest right now?"

Her lips parted as if to defend herself, but no words came. She looked down guiltily, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "I wasn't tired," she mumbled softly, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Feras' jaw tightened, his grip on the phone firm as he held it just out of her reach. "That's not the point, Anam," he said, his voice commanding but not loud. "You've just gotten out of the hospital. You're supposed to be resting and focusing on healing, not sneaking around with your phone for hours."

"I was just reading..." she tried to explain, her voice small.

He raised a brow, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern. "Reading? At this hour? Under the blanket like a child hiding from her parents?" He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair before continuing, "You're impossible sometimes."

Anam pouted, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. "You're exaggerating it," she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Feras softened slightly at her guilty demeanor but kept his tone firm. "Anam, I don't want to see this again. Your health comes first. Do you understand?"

She nodded, biting her lip as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Feras sighed again. He placed her phone back on the nightstand, turning it off completely. Then, without a word, he reached out and tucked her blanket snugly around her.

"Now sleep," he ordered, his tone gentler but still authoritative.

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of guilt and affection. "Ap bohot akru hain, apko pta hai?" she mumbled. (You're very strict, you know that?)

He smiled faintly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Aur tum bohot sherarti ho, tumhe pta hai?" he countered, leaning back against the headboard. (And you're really stubborn, you know that?)

Anam smiled shyly, closing her eyes as she snuggled deeper into the blanket. Feras stayed there for a moment, watching her with a protective gaze before finally turning off the bedside lamp.

As the room fell into darkness, his voice came soft but firm: "If I catch you sneaking your phone again, Anam, toh mujse bhura koi nahi hoga." (If I catch you sneaking your phone again, Anam, then you're going face my wrath.)

Her muffled giggle was the last sound before sleep finally claimed her.