bonus chapter 01

Happy New Year, y'all.

A year to Zaviyaar and Aaliyana (a year ago I started writing TBT in my drafts.)

Thank you so much for the immense love you have showered on my book!!

ZAVIYAAR'S POV:

Shit, shit, shit. Fuck I am late, very late. Peeking at the clock, it was 6 in the evening. I should have left my office nearly an hour ago. She is going to be pissed off. I need to leave, right now.

I hurriedly grabbed my wallet and keys from my office table and left my cabin. "Imran, we are leaving," I informed my newly hired assistant.

"But, sir," he tried to stop me.

"I don't have time for buts," I said, entering the lift. In no time I found myself standing in front of my car.

Imran settled himself before the wheel. Meanwhile, I sat in the back seat, waiting for him to take me home as soon as possible. He gave life to the engine and penetrated the office building. To my unlucky fate, we met traffic. But thankfully, that didn't last more than twenty minutes.

The car came to a halt, informing me, that we had reached. I got out and rushed into the hall.

"Dad, you are gone," my seven-year-old son Aryan said. I knew he wasn't lying.

"She is waiting for you in the room, angry," my eleven-year-old daughter Zarah said, without lifting her eyes from her graphic novel. They weren't lying. I knew she was angry, so don't forget to add "very" with it.

How could she not be? It was our 12th wedding anniversary. I had promised her to be here at home; I know I shouldn't have attended the office today, but it was important. Important than her? My mind mocked me. Okay, I am sorry. I know I shouldn't have. But, I was planning a surprise a plan for her.

With no time, I approached our room and felt hesitant while opening the door. The effect this girl still has on me is insane. I gulped, making myself ready, and entered the room. No one was in the room. Where's she? I looked in the closet and washroom, and she was nowhere to be seen.

A gush of cold wind made me realize the door to the balcony was open, widely. I made my way towards the balcony, completing the distance, and there she was.

"Sweetheart?" I called her. She didn't move, not even a bit. "Aaliyana, ander ake gussa karlo bahir thand hai, tabiyat khrb hojaye gi," she wasn't even wearing a sweater. She turned around, didn't even bother looking at me, and stamped her foot on the wooden floor of the balcony before going in. (You can get angry, but first come inside; it's cold outside, and you'll catch cold.)

"Aaliyana," I ran after her. "Baat mat karo mere see ap," she finally said something. I closed the balcony door after me. (Don't talk to me.)

Now, she was sitting on the bed, glaring at me. "Time dekha hai apne," she said. (Have you seen the time?)

"Sweetheart, I am sorry, I was busy," I apologized. "Raho busy," she huffed, crossing her arms. (Stay busy, then.)

I took a few steps and stood right before her.

"Happy 12th wedding anniversary, Sweetheart," I whispered in her ear. "Yaad agai apko," she was still angry.  (Oh, so you remember.)

"I am sorry, Sweetheart," I apologized, again. "Mr. husband, I missed you," she finally gave in, stood up, and hugged me.

"It's only been three days, sweetheart," I caressed her hair. "Yes, three whole days," she snuggled into the crook of my neck.

"You forgot our anniversary," she looked into my eyes. "I didn't," I shook my head. A knock interrupted us. I told them to come in. A worker handed me a bouquet of red roses and a gift bag and left.

"Happy anniversary, sweetheart," I handed her the bouquet and the bag.

"What's in this?" she squinted her eyes. I told her to take a look herself.

"You didn't," she shook her head. "I did," I smashed my lips on her, attacking her bottom lip.

A slight pinch on her waist made her moan in the kiss and gave me a pathway to enter her mouth. Devouring every inch of it.

I decided to buy her a new car since she had been voicing her dissatisfaction with her current one, so I chose the latest model for her.

"Zaviyaar, sharm nhi ati apko," she broke the kiss and I shamelessly shook my head. She is my wife. What's there to be shameful about? (Aren't you ashamed?)

"Where are the kids?" Aaliyana questioned me. "In the hall," I answered her. We made our way to the hall. Zarah and Aryan were sitting there; maybe if Azran were here, he would have been sitting with them, playing with them, completing our little family.

I held Aaliyana's hand as I knew she was the one who had suffered a lot, by a lot, I mean a lot.

But, Sweetheart is strong. A perfect daughter-in-law, wife, and mother.

We all gathered on the porch. The moonlight glinted off the vibrant paintwork, casting a warm glow that matched the constant smile lighting up her face. Her joy was infectious, and it made the moment feel even more special.

However, the real surprise was yet to be revealed, a secret that lingered in the background, waiting for the perfect moment to unfold.

"Dad, when are we leaving?" Aryan gathered our attention towards him. "Where are we going?" Aaliyana's frowning expression mutated into a questioning look.

"You shouldn't have opened your mouth, dumbass ." Zarah was disappointed. "Zarah, language," Aaliyana glared at her but she wasn't sorry. She is just a kid.

"Sweetheart, come lets go," I held her hand. "Wait, I will be back in a minute," she came back with her handbag and we all settled ourselves in the car and made our way towards the airport.

AAIYANA'S POV:

Zaviyaar and his never-ending will to amaze me at our every wedding anniversary. We are soothed in our private jet. He's sitting right before me, engrossed in his laptop, nothing new. Zarah and Aryan are sitting they are dozing off on the divan placed parallel to our seats.

Over the past twelve years, my life has undergone profound changes. Just two years ago, we faced the heartbreaking loss of Zaviyaar's dad, who passed away unexpectedly from a sudden heart stroke.

His absence left a void in our lives, and we struggled to adapt to the new reality without him. Despite the challenges, Mom has shown remarkable resilience.

She has poured her energy into her work with several NGO's. Her dedication has not only aided those in need but has also provided her with a sense of stability in this difficult phase of life. I

At times, these distractions assist us in managing our pain.

Looking at Zarah and Aryan, I wonder how would have my life been if Azran had been here with us. It's been five years since we lost him.

My baby was so small. So delicate. Almost five years back we went to Melbourne for a family trip. Maybe we shouldn't have. It was meant to be another trip that I was supposed to cherish, but fate had other plans, and I turned into something remorseful.

We were at a mall, basically buying souvenirs for our family. It was crowded, more than it should have been. Maybe because it was almost Christmas.

Aryan was nested in Zaviyaar's arms—the the image remains clear in my mind—Zarah was walking with us, holding Zaviyaar's hand—dadda's girl she is—Azran was there with me, in the pram stroller. Everything was burgeoning.

But, my heart wasn't at peace. I wanted to go back to our hotel; maybe it was my instinct to warn me with reference to what was about to occur. We finished shopping; we were about to head out when I had to go to the washroom. I informed Zaviyaar that I would be back in a minute.

I didn't take Azran with me, but when I returned Azran wasn't there. His pram was missing. Zaviyaar hadn't noticed me, and I felt my gut twisting; I asked Zaviyaar about Azran, and at that moment, we realized we had lost our baby, Azran.

It's not true that we didn't look for our boy, we did. Zaviyaar endeavored his best to locate Azran, but he couldn't succeed. I have failed as a mother. Azran would be so proud of his Dad, but what if I never had gone to the restroom?

"Aaliyana," Zaviyaar shook me out of my thoughts. I looked at the worried expression settled on his face. We were in the bedroom of the jet. I was on his lap.

"I have been calling you for the last fifteen minutes," he wiped my tears, which made me realize I was crying.

"Zaviyaar," more tears stream down my cheeks. "It's okay, Sweetheart. We have Zarah and Aryan, and it wasn't your mistake," he brushed his lips on my hair, calming me down.

In the initial months of Azran's disappearance, I struggled to face Zaviyaar and our children, feeling as though I was to blame for everything that had happened. However, as always, Zaviyaar offered his unwavering support, helping me navigate each challenge we faced.

Our life felt like a roller coaster, and every time I encountered a setback, it was Zaviyaar who held me close, protecting me from the turmoil. Azran's absence in our lives is profoundly felt.

Perhaps, through some miracle, we will have our little boy back one day. Zaviyaar tirelessly searched for him but to no avail. All efforts led to the same disheartening conclusion.

Death.

However, regardless of everything, my heart couldn't embrace the possibility. It appeared orchestrated, yet we had no foes.

"Aaliyana, slow down the thoughts," Zaviyaar said. I nodded at him. Within an instant, we heard Aryan crying, we shoved ourselves outside the room. Zarah was sitting, staring at Aryan, who was crying, making his doe eyes red.

"Aryan, kya howa?" I moved towards them, Zaviyaar following me. "Zarah bit me, Mom and Dad," he sniffed. Zarah was unbothered. (What happened, Aryan?)

"Mama ke pass ao," I cooed him down and talked to Zaviyaar through his eyes to scold her. (Come to Mama.)

"Zarah, say sorry," Zaviyaar said. "Sorry," she wasn't sorry at all.

~

"Happy anniversary, Mister husband," I pulled out his gift-just an hour ago, we handed in Paris, once again, but this time with our kids-after months of struggle, I finally got him an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak "Jumbo" 15202.

"Aaliyana.... no... how did you know?" his shock was evident.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with Imran but I heard you talking about this watch, so with his help, I bought this," I explained.

"Sweetheart, you didn't need to," he said. "No, I know, I needed to," I placed a small peck on his lips.

"I love you, Mister Husband," I said. "I love you more, Sweetheart," he said.

Later that same evening, we took Zarah and Aryan to the places where we had been in the past, it felt like I was reliving those moments once again. Not forgetting, I had crepes, a lot of crepes.

"Wase ghar see itna dor ane ki zarorat nhi this," I teased him. "Mera ghar toh ap ho," his forever reply.

The next day, we ran into Aisha and her family, I was almost meeting her after six months.

Our bond has strengthened over the past years. His husband keeps on traveling due to his job. Zarah was friends with both the Mirza brothers; Azaan and Ahad. She was prejudiced towards Azaan, meanwhile, Aryan dispised Azaan and was friends with Ahad.

~

We returned home two days later since the kids had school and Zaviyaar and I had crucial meetings to attend. Mom was also back from her trip.

"Dadi, we met Azaan and Ahad too," Zarah chirped with happiness. "Hmm, your mother told me," Mom said. We all were settled on the dining table having dinner.

"Mama, I miss Naeel, Zayn, and Aariz," Zarah's face fell. "And Daneen too," Aryan added. "We'll meet them soon," I said.

After that, I made him eat their food and made sure they went to sleep before going back to our room, where Zaviyaar awaited me. This feeling is where I know I'm surrounded by people who love me, those people are no one but my family.

But, a space is still empty.

"Sweetheart, you could have hurt yourself," I nodded at him. "Come, let's sleep; I am tired," we got into bed. "I love you, Sweetheart," he pecked my hair. "I love you more, mister husband," I mumbled in half-sleep. "Nah, I doubt that," he said. Soon sleep empowered me.

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I know you are confused about Azran but all I can say is wait!!!

Follow me on my Instagram, so you can stay connected. I'd: @bibliozaar (link in the profile.)

Ignore all kinds of mistakes, as English isn't my first language!

Take care!!!

Zaar.