Hazel POV -
We were in Switzerland, beneath a sky painted in shades of pink and orange. I was wrapped in my husband's embrace, his face resting against my shoulder blade-though, more often than not, pressed gently to my cheek because he always insisted the view from the front was far more enchanting than any other.
My heart stumbled inside my ribcage.
I never truly knew how to react whenever he looked at me with such quiet devotion. So, instead, I simply closed my eyes and melted into his embrace.
Because I think this is the whole point of my life.
To find peace in the arms of the man Allah wrote for me.
I slowly recovered myself, though I remained safely tucked against my husband's side.
Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears.
"H-Haris..." I managed to whisper.
"Yes, jaan?" he replied softly.
How could I ever explain what that single word did to me?
Every time he called me jaan in that impossibly gentle voice, every wall around my heart melted a little more. It was as though my soul had learned to recognize the tenderness that belonged only to him.
"What happened, jaan?" he asked softly. "What are you thinking about? You've been so quiet today. You've hardly spoken since this morning."
I furrowed my brows, not in anger but in quiet amusement.
He had learned my silence.
"I'm fine," I whispered. "Nothing's wrong."
His black eyes held my warm brown ones so gently that my heart softened.
"What happened?" he asked again, his voice filled with concern.
I often wondered if he looked at me as though I were the only miracle Allah had ever given him.
Instead of answering, I wrapped my arms tightly around him and placed a kiss on each of his cheeks.
His beard brushed against my skin, rough yet strangely comforting. I had always loved the feel of his bearded cheeks.
A faint blush crept across his face.
"So... we're leaving for Birmingham tomorrow." I smiled softly, glancing at the breathtaking mountains. "I'm going to miss Switzerland. I love this place."
I turned to him, my heart full.
"Thank you for bringing me here, my handsome husband."
Leaning closer, I gently pressed my finger against the dimple on his cheek.
Ya Allah... my weakness.
"I love your dimples," I admitted in a low voice.
A deeper blush spread across his face.
"Don't thank me, jaan," he replied in an even softer tone. "Whenever you feel grateful, just kiss me."
He smiled, his black eyes never leaving mine.
"And the answer to your question..." he murmured, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Everything I have has always been yours, my jaan."
A mischievous smile tugged at his lips.
"Now... wait. I want to show you something."
A few minutes later, my husband returned.
In one hand, he carried a crown woven from fresh white lilies.
In the other, he held another bag behind his back.
I stared at him, completely speechless.
Ya Allah... is this man even real?
He walked toward me with that gentle smile that always stole my breath.
Setting the bag aside, he carefully lifted the lily crown and placed it upon my head.
"There," he whispered, taking a step back to admire me.
"A crown for my Queen Hazel."
My cheeks warmed instantly.
"Although," he continued with a soft smile, "you don't need a crown to be a queen. You rule my heart without one."
His fingertips lightly adjusted a few petals near my hair.
"But it does make your beauty shine even more."
I was certain that if someone asked me to write a thousand books about love, none of them would ever be enough to describe the way this man loved me.
Unable to stop myself, I threw my arms around his neck.
Without thinking, I closed the distance between us and gently pressed my lips against his.
For a split second, I froze.
Then he slowly closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around me, holding me as though he never wanted to let go.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested against each other.
"I'm honoured," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "that this is the love you feel safe enough to show me."
My heart ached with love.
I cupped his face between my hands.
"Safe..." I whispered. "That's the only word I can use to describe how I feel with you. In your embrace, I found a home I never knew I was searching for."
Tears gathered in my eyes.
"You're my first and my last love, Haris. You're as necessary to me as oxygen. Every word I know falls short when it comes to you."
He smiled through misty eyes before gently bumping his nose against mine.
"Ah..." I laughed softly.
His entire face turned pink.
Without a word, he pulled me into another tight embrace.
"Oh," he suddenly said, as though he had just remembered something. "Wait... I almost forgot."
He reached for the bag he had hidden earlier and smiled.
"I have a second gift for you."
He held it out to me.
"For our date night."
With trembling fingers, I opened the bag.
My breath caught.
Inside lay the most beautiful pink floral dress I had ever seen, accompanied by a matching hijab.
It was breathtaking.
"So beautiful..." I whispered, unable to look away. "Haris... it's absolutely stunning."
My voice was filled with wonder.
He stepped closer, his hands finding my waist before gently pulling me into him.
"Less beautiful than you, my jaan," he murmured, his black eyes holding mine with nothing but love.
My cheeks warmed instantly.
"So..." he smiled, brushing a loose strand of my hijab back into place. "Are you ready for our date?"
I nodded, unable to stop smiling.
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.
"There are still more surprises waiting for us."
His smile widened.
"And every single one of them is for my queen."
By evening, my husband had mysteriously disappeared from our suite.
I couldn't help but smile.
It seemed I wasn't the only one planning surprises tonight.
Already dressed for our date, I turned my attention to the gifts waiting on the table.
The first was a collection of premium architecture pens, carefully chosen for the man who could turn dreams into homes.
The second was a handcrafted desk organizer.
Months ago, I had secretly contacted Mark and asked him to help me redesign the interior of Haris's office. This desk piece was made to match the new space perfectly.
The third gift made my heart smile.
A piece of calligraphy.
حارث عزيز خان
Haris Aziz Khan.
His name, beautifully written in Arabic, framed in elegant wood.
The final gift wasn't wrapped in a box.
It was a handwritten journal.
On the cover, in my own calligraphy, were the words-
A Thousand Reasons I Love You.
Tomorrow was my husband's twenty-seventh birthday.
Of course...
He had forgotten it.
Just like every year.
By eight o'clock, the door of our hotel suite opened.
"Assalamu Alaikum, jaan. Where are you?" my husband called impatiently, exactly the way he always did whenever he came home.
I quickly slipped all of his birthday gifts into my tote bag, hiding them before he could notice.
Hehe... not yet.
"Wa Alaikum Assalam..." I replied in my deliberately soft, velvety voice.
I knew that tone melted his heart within seconds.
"Where are you?" he asked again, sounding even more eager to find me.
"I just finished praying Isha," I answered with a smile. "And I was finishing a little bit of my work."
A second later, he appeared in the doorway.
The moment his black eyes found me, the tiredness on his face disappeared completely.
"There you are," he murmured, relief washing over his features as he walked straight toward me, as if finding me was the best part of coming back.
He opened his arms and walked toward me.
Just as he was about to hug me, he stopped halfway.
"Wait, jaan," he laughed softly. "Let me freshen up first."
I shook my head immediately.
"No."
Before he could take another step back, I slipped my arms around his waist and pulled him into my embrace.
"I like you just like this."
He looked at me with surprise.
"Only because," I smiled shyly, "you look even more handsome like this."
His black eyes softened.
He gently placed his finger over my lips.
"Jaan..." he whispered, trying not to smile. "Don't say things like that."
I tilted my head innocently.
"Why?"
"Because I won't be able to let you sleep tonight."
I couldn't help laughing.
"Haris!"
He chuckled.
"Don't look at me like that. You'll say I'm shameless."
I cupped his face, smiling from ear to ear.
"I love every version of you. Whether you've just come home from work or you're dressed for a special evening-it doesn't matter to me."
His expression melted.
He gently patted my cheek before leaning down and placing a playful kiss against it.
When he pulled away, I felt the warmth lingering on my skin.
"My lipstick..." I gasped.
A perfect lip print was left on his cheek.
He touched it curiously before grinning.
"Looks like I'll be wearing your signature for the rest of the evening."
His smile was full of mischief, and somehow, seeing my lipstick mark on his cheek made him look even more handsome.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened.
And there stood Mr. Haris Aziz Khan.
Dressed in a pink striped linen shirt with crisp white trousers, he looked effortlessly elegant.
My breath caught.
Handsome wasn't enough to describe him.
Gorgeous wasn't enough either.
If I were being completely honest...
My husband looked devastatingly attractive.
His neatly styled hair, his well-trimmed beard, the silver watch resting against his wrist, and those deep black eyes...
Ya Allah.
How was this man real?
He noticed me staring and a smile slowly curved his lips.
"What?" he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.
I shook my head, unable to hide my smile.
"Nothing."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Liar."
"I was just thinking..." I whispered.
"Hm?"
"I married the most handsome man in the world."
A soft blush crept onto his cheeks.
"There you go again, jaan," he murmured, looking away for a second. "You're going to make me forget where we're supposed to be going."
He offered me his hand with a smile.
"Shall we go, jaan?"
His black eyes sparkled with mischief.
"I've planned a date filled with endless conversations, stolen kisses, and every excuse I can find to keep you in my arms."
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
I slipped my hand into his without a second thought.
"Absolutely."
His smile widened.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
He intertwined our fingers and gently kissed the back of my hand before leading me out of the suite.
Our car stopped beside the shimmering waters of Lake Lucerne. The sky glowed with shades of pink and gold, while the Alps stood quietly in the distance. Haris intertwined our fingers, smiling as though he had been waiting for this moment all day.
After dinner, Haris stopped in front of a beautiful lakeside villa.
I looked at him in confusion.
"Haris... why are we here?"
Instead of answering, he simply smiled and unlocked the gate.
He led me inside.
The villa overlooked the peaceful waters, surrounded by blooming flowers and the breathtaking Swiss mountains.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
He intertwined our fingers.
"It belongs to you now."
I blinked.
"W-What?"
"The day you told me you loved Switzerland..." he said softly, "...I decided I wanted us to have a place here."
My eyes filled with tears.
"So whenever you miss this country..."
He gently tucked a strand of my hijab behind my ear.
"...we'll come home."
I stared at him, speechless.
"And its name?" I whispered.
His smile deepened.
"I named it Hazel House."
"You named a villa after me?"
He chuckled.
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Because every place I love reminds me of you... and every place you love deserves to carry your name."
The clock struck midnight.
12:00 a.m.
I smiled to myself.
Before he could even glance at the time, I gently cupped his face.
He looked at me in confusion.
"What is it, jaan?"
Instead of answering, I leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead.
"Happy birthday..." I whispered.
"My Haris."
His eyes widened.
"You remembered?"
I smiled through the tears gathering in my eyes.
"How could I ever forget the day Allah blessed this world with the man who became my peace?"
For a moment, he simply stared at me.
Speechless.
Then, without warning, he pulled me into his arms so tightly that I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"This..." he whispered against my hair, "...is the most beautiful birthday I've ever had."
I smiled into his embrace.
"It has only just begun."
I reached for the tote bag I had been hiding all evening.
"I still have a few surprises for my birthday boy."
Hand in hand, we stepped inside the villa.
I stopped in my tracks.
The interior was breathtaking.
Soft cream and white tones filled every corner, making the space feel warm, peaceful, and elegant. Fresh white lilies rested in delicate vases, while the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the shimmering lake.
It felt like a dream.
Once we settled into the living room, I quietly picked up my tote bag.
"Haris?"
"Hm?"
"Close your eyes."
A smile tugged at his lips.
"As my queen commands."
He obediently closed his eyes, standing there like the sweetest, most patient husband.
I couldn't help but giggle.
"Don't peek."
"I wouldn't dare."
I placed the first gift into his hands.
"You can open your eyes now."
His gaze fell to the beautifully framed Arabic calligraphy.
حارث عزيز خان
His own name.
Written in elegant strokes.
For a long moment, he simply stared at it.
"This is... beautiful, jaan."
Before he could recover, I handed him the second gift.
A handwritten journal.
On the cover, in my own calligraphy, were the words.
A Thousand Reasons I Love You.
He traced the title with his fingertips as though it were the most precious thing he had ever held.
"And there's one more surprise," I said, unlocking my phone.
I opened the design plans I had secretly created with Mark.
"I redesigned your office."
His eyes widened as he looked through the interior sketches.
"The architecture pens, the new workspace... everything was planned for you."
He looked up at me, completely speechless.
"You always build dreams for everyone else," I whispered with a smile. "This time... I wanted to build one for you."
Without another word, he set the gifts aside and closed the distance between us.
His arms wrapped around me so tightly that I could feel every beat of his heart.
Then, one by one, he kissed my forehead...
My temple...
My cheeks...
The bridge of my nose...
As though he was trying to pour every unspoken emotion into those gentle kisses.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice trembling.
"Thank you for coming into my life."
His embrace tightened.
"You filled every empty corner of my heart with peace."
He rested his forehead against mine, his black eyes glistening.
"You're not just my wife, Hazel."
"You're my existence."
A tear escaped my eye.
He smiled softly and wiped it away with his thumb.
"I love every gift, jaan," he murmured. "But nothing compares to the woman who gave them to me."
I smiled through my tears.
"And I love you."
"More than every word I've ever written."
He smiled, kissed my forehead once more, and whispered,
"Alhamdulillah... for you."
A few days later...
Our private jet landed safely in Birmingham.
As the car drove through the familiar streets, I rested my head against Haris's shoulder, watching raindrops race down the window.
"It feels good to be home," I whispered.
Haris kissed the top of my head.
"Home has always been wherever you are, jaan."
By the time we reached Jaan House, the rain had become heavier.
The moment we stepped out of the car, we laughed.
Within seconds, our clothes were completely drenched.
I looked at my husband, water dripping from his hair and beard.
He looked at me with the same smile that had stolen my heart years ago.
"Run?" he asked, extending his hand.
I laughed.
"Never."
Instead, I slipped my fingers into his and walked through the rain beside him.
By the time we reached the front door, we were soaked from head to toe.
He looked at me and chuckled.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
"I planned a romantic welcome home."
I raised an eyebrow.
"The rain had other plans."
"It made it even better," I replied.
He smiled before gently brushing the wet strands away from my face.
"I agree."
Together, hand in hand, we stepped across the threshold of our home once again.
After changing into comfortable clothes, we shared a simple dinner together.
Aloo Subzi , Plain dal, steamed rice, and homemade yogurt.
Sometimes, the simplest meals tasted the most comforting.
By evening, however, I could feel a slight fever settling in.
Perhaps the rain had finally caught up with me.
I wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and curled up on the sofa, quietly watching the rain continue outside.
Across the room, Haris sat in his study, speaking to an important client over his laptop.
Every now and then, his black eyes would leave the screen to check on me.
Our gazes met.
"Are you alright, jaan?" he mouthed silently.
I smiled and gave him a small nod.
"I'm okay."
Even in the middle of an important meeting, he never forgot to make sure I was alright.
That... was my Haris.
A day later, my fever had disappeared.
I thought everything was back to normal.
But over the following days, I began noticing little changes.
My appetite wasn't the same anymore.
Foods I usually loved barely interested me, while the smell of coffee something I never minded before made me wrinkle my nose.
I found myself feeling unusually sleepy.
No matter how much I rested, I still wanted to curl up beneath a blanket for just a few more minutes.
At first, I blamed the long journey home and the exhaustion from our travels.
But deep down...
Something felt different.
I just couldn't quite understand what it was yet.
The dizziness became more frequent.
One morning, I stood up from the sofa, and the room spun for a brief moment.
"Hazel."
Haris was beside me before I could even steady myself.
His black eyes filled with worry.
"I'm not going to the office today."
I immediately shook my head.
"No, Haris. You have an important meeting. Please go."
"I'm staying."
I smiled softly and took his hand.
"I'll be fine, my jaan. I'll call you if I need anything."
He studied my face for a long moment before finally sighing.
"I don't like leaving you like this."
"I know," I whispered, gently squeezing his hand.
After reminding me several times to rest, drink water, and call him immediately if I felt worse, he reluctantly left for the office.
A little later, I called Ammi.
The moment she heard about my fever, sleepiness, loss of appetite, and dizziness, she smiled knowingly.
"My child..."
I frowned.
"What?"
She chuckled softly.
"Hazel... before you worry yourself any further..."
There was a brief pause.
"Take a pregnancy test, mere bacche."
My heart skipped a beat.
"P... pregnancy?"
A smile spread across Ammi's face.
"Sometimes Allah's most beautiful blessings arrive quietly."
I instinctively placed my hand over my abdomen, my thoughts suddenly racing.
Could it really be...?
As soon as I ended the call with Ammi, I ordered a pregnancy test online.
The next few minutes felt longer than they really were.
My thoughts refused to settle.
What if Ammi was right?
What if she wasn't?
My phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts.
Haris 🤍
I'm so sorry, jaan. I'll be late today. An important client meeting came up. If you feel unwell, please call me. I'll try my best to come home early. I love you.
A small smile found its way onto my lips.
Me: Don't worry, my jaan. May Allah put barakah in your work. Drive safely when you come home. I love you too.
A little while later, the doorbell rang.
I took a slow breath before walking to the front door.
The small parcel sat quietly on the doorstep.
I picked it up with trembling hands.
Closing the door behind me, I held it close to my chest as I slowly walked toward our bedroom.
Every heartbeat seemed louder than the last.
My fingers trembled as I looked down at the small box.
Could this little package really hold the answer to the question that had quietly changed my entire day?
I whispered softly,
"Bismillah..."
I sat on the edge of our bed, taking a deep breath before opening the small box.
Inside was the pregnancy test kit.
With trembling hands, I unfolded the instruction leaflet and carefully read every step, afraid I might miss something.
As my eyes reached the final line, a sudden realization crashed into me.
My breath caught.
My period...
It was late.
Not by a few days.
By an entire month.
"Oh..."
I blinked in disbelief.
"Ya Allah..."
How had I not noticed?
I let out a small, nervous laugh, shaking my head at myself.
Between Umrah, our world tour, returning home, Haris's birthday, and settling back into Birmingham...
The thought had never even crossed my mind.
My hand instinctively rested over my abdomen.
My heartbeat echoed in the silent room.
Could there really be a little life growing inside me?
Clutching the test kit in my trembling hands, I quietly walked toward the bathroom.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
"Bismillah..." I whispered, seeking courage from Allah.
After carefully following every instruction, I placed the test on the bathroom counter.
Now...
All I could do was wait.
My heartbeat pounded so loudly against my ribcage that I was certain I could hear it.
My palms were damp.
I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes.
"Ya Allah..."
"If this is Your blessing for us..."
"My heart is ready to receive it with endless gratitude."
A tear slipped down my cheek.
"If not..."
"I will still thank You, because Your plans have always been more beautiful than mine."
The silence around me suddenly felt unbearably loud.
Every passing second seemed like an eternity.
I slowly opened my eyes.
My gaze drifted toward the small test resting on the counter.
My breath caught in my throat.
"Ya Allah..."
Two pink lines.
My world stopped.
My heartbeat seemed to forget how to beat.
A tear slipped down my cheek before another followed.
Positive.
My trembling hand instinctively covered my mouth as I stared at the tiny test in complete disbelief.
"Ya Allah..."
My knees weakened, and I slowly sank onto the bathroom floor.
In a single moment...
My entire life flashed before my eyes.
A little girl who learned pain too early.
A teenager who carried silent burdens.
The day I lost my father.
The endless prayers during Ammi's heart surgery.
Every tear.
Every hardship.
Every dua whispered in the darkness.
And today...
Allah was placing a new life beneath my heart.
I gently rested my palm over my abdomen, unable to stop crying.
"Alhamdulillah..."
"Ya Rabb... thank You."
"Thank You for every trial that led me here."
"Thank You for Haris."
"And thank You... for entrusting me with this beautiful blessing."
For the first time in my life...
I wasn't crying because I was broken.
I was crying because my heart was too full of gratitude to hold it all.
Haris POV -
Birmingham,
Khan Architects,
For what felt like the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes, I glanced at my watch.
I was restless.
Across the table, our client from Scotland continued explaining his vision for the project-the architecture, the interior design, the materials, every tiny detail.
Normally, I would have been fully focused.
Today...
My mind refused to cooperate.
It remained with only one person.
My jaan.
Hazel.
She hadn't been feeling well for the past few days.
The fever had gone, but something still didn't seem right.
Her appetite had changed.
She looked more tired than usual.
And every time she smiled and said, "I'm fine," my heart refused to believe her.
The truth was...
Whenever Hazel was unwell, my mind stopped functioning.
Buildings could wait.
Meetings could wait.
The world could wait.
But my heart always found its way back to her.
I quietly excused myself for a moment and reached for my phone beneath the table.
Me: How are you feeling now, jaan? Have you eaten? I'll be home as soon as I can.
I stared at the screen, waiting for the reply that always brought my heart a little peace.
Finally, the meeting came to an end.
The first thing I did was reach for my phone.
A message from Hazel waited for me.
Don't worry, my jaan. May Allah put barakah in your work. Drive safely when you come home. I love you too.
It had been sent two hours ago.
A smile found its way onto my lips.
Ya Allah...
What did I ever do to deserve a woman like her?
Even when she wasn't feeling well, she still prayed for barakah in my work before thinking of herself.
I glanced at my watch.
1:00 a.m.
The night had settled over Birmingham, and every passing minute filled me with more guilt.
I shouldn't have left her alone.
Work could wait.
Clients could wait.
But my Hazel...
She never should have had to spend the day by herself while she was unwell.
Perhaps love had made me selfish.
The truth was, I could build another company.
I could design another skyline.
I could earn everything again if Allah willed.
But if I ever lost my peace...
If I ever lost Hazel...
I knew, with absolute certainty, I would never truly recover.
I picked up my car keys without another thought.
"Take me home," my heart whispered.
I hurried downstairs and headed straight for my black Range Rover.
One thought echoed in my mind.
My jaan.
My heart.
A strange uneasiness settled deep inside my chest, refusing to leave.
Ya Allah... please keep her safe.
The engine roared to life as I drove through the quiet streets of Birmingham.
At the first red light, I reached for my phone and called her.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No answer.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"Hazel..."
I called again.
Still nothing.
Fear slowly crept into my heart.
She always answered my calls.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind.
Was she sleeping?
Had her fever returned?
Was she too weak to reach her phone?
I pressed harder on the accelerator the moment the light turned green.
"Please, jaan..."
"Just be okay."
I whispered a quiet dua beneath my breath as the familiar roads led me closer to Jaan House.
I needed to see her.
Only then would my heart finally be at peace.
My Range Rover rolled to a stop beneath the porch of Jaan House.
Before the engine had fully switched off, I was already out of the car.
"Assalamu Alaikum, jaan?" I called as I stepped inside.
Silence.
I checked the living room.
Empty.
The kitchen.
Empty.
A strange uneasiness settled in my chest.
"Hazel?"
I hurried upstairs and pushed open the door to our bedroom.
The room was dark.
Only the soft glow of the moon filtered through the curtains.
Then...
I saw her.
Standing quietly in the middle of the room.
She was dressed in a flowing white skirt, an olive-green shirt, and her soft brown hijab rested gracefully around her shoulders. A few loose strands of her hair had escaped the half-up clip, cascading gently around her face.
She looked breathtaking.
For a moment...
I forgot every worry that had consumed me on the drive home.
There she was.
My peace.
My home.
My Hazel.
"Jaan..." I whispered, taking a slow step toward her.
"What are you doing standing here in the dark?"
My heart softened as our eyes met.
She smiled.
A smile unlike any I had ever seen before.
Without saying a single word...
She slowly walked toward me.
One step.
Then another.
Until there was no distance left between us.
She slipped her arms around my waist and hugged me so tightly that I instinctively wrapped my arms around her in return.
"Jaan..." I whispered, gently stroking her back.
"What happened?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she buried her face against my chest, holding me even tighter.
I could feel her trembling.
My heart clenched.
I cupped the back of her head protectively, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"Talk to me, my love."
"Did something happen?"
"I've been worried about you all day."
She slowly lifted her face to look at me.
Tears shimmered in her beautiful brown eyes.
But they weren't tears of sadness.
They were tears filled with a happiness I couldn't yet understand.
She smiled through them.
"Haris..."
Her voice trembled.
"I have something to tell you."
I held her cheeks gently in my hands, my own heartbeat beginning to race.
"You can tell me anything, jaan."
And at that moment...
I had no idea my entire world was about to change forever.
She slowly lifted her face.
Her beautiful brown eyes were overflowing with tears.
My heart sank.
Without hesitation, I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs gently wiping away the tears that continued to fall.
"Jaan..." I whispered softly.
"Don't do this to yourself."
"My heart can't bear to see you like this."
I searched her eyes, desperately trying to understand.
"Tell me..."
"Is everything alright?"
"Are you in pain?"
"Did something happen while I was away?"
My voice grew quieter, almost pleading.
"Please... talk to me."
"If something is hurting you..."
"We'll face it together."
"I promise."
I rested my forehead against hers, gently kissing the corner of her eye.
"You never have to carry anything alone, my jaan."
"I'm here."
"Always."
I couldn't bear the sight of her tears.
Leaning closer, I gently kissed her tear-filled eyelids, one after the other, as though I could wipe away every worry with my lips.
My thumbs softly brushed over her cheeks, catching the tears that continued to fall.
"Tell me, jaan," I whispered, my voice filled with concern.
"What is it?"
She looked into my eyes.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Finally, in a trembling voice, she managed to whisper,
"H... Haris..."
Hearing my name break on her lips made my heart ache.
I rested my forehead against hers, gently stroking her cheek.
"I'm here, my jaan," I murmured.
"Take your time."
"I'm listening."
"Whatever it is... we'll face it together."
"H... Haris..."
Her voice broke into a whisper.
Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.
I immediately pulled her into my embrace, gently rubbing soothing circles over her back.
"Shh... jaan," I whispered. "I'm here."
She slowly stepped back, her trembling hands reaching for a small blue gift box resting on the bedside table.
She placed it in my hands.
I looked at her in confusion.
"Open it," she whispered.
My heartbeat became uneven.
Carefully, I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
Inside...
A pair of tiny white baby socks.
My breath caught.
Beneath them lay a pregnancy test.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
For a moment...
Everything around me disappeared.
The room.
The silence.
Time itself.
Only one truth remained.
I was going to be a father.
My eyes filled with tears as I looked back at Hazel.
"Jaan..."
My voice failed me.
I fell to my knees in front of her, my trembling hands gently resting over her abdomen as though protecting the most precious blessing Allah had ever entrusted to us.
"Alhamdulillah..."
The words escaped through tears I couldn't hold back.
"My Allah..."
"Thank You."
With tears blurring my vision, I slowly bent down.
My trembling hands gently rested over her abdomen.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment before placing the softest kiss over the place where our little miracle was growing.
"Alhamdulillah..."
I whispered through my tears.
I rose to my feet and immediately cupped Hazel's face.
First, I kissed her forehead.
Then her swollen eyelids.
Then the tear-stained cheeks that had cried tears of gratitude only moments before.
Finally, I rested my forehead against hers.
My eyes closed as I quietly recited Ayatul Kursi, then gently blew over her, asking Allah to protect her and the precious life He had entrusted to us.
When I opened my eyes again, they were still filled with tears.
"Thank you, jaan," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"Thank you... for giving me the most beautiful blessing Allah could have ever written for me."
I kissed her forehead once more.
"You've already made me the happiest man in this world."
My hand found hers before resting gently over her abdomen again.
"In shaa Allah..."
"I'll spend the rest of my life protecting both of you."
Then a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
I looked at Hazel, concern replacing the tears in my eyes.
"Jaan..."
"We're going to the gynecologist tomorrow."
She gave me a small smile.
"You've still been feeling dizzy."
"I want to make sure both of you are healthy."
There was a firmness in my voice that left no room for argument.
She nodded gently.
"In shaa Allah."
I smiled and kissed her forehead once more.
Carefully, I took her hand and led her toward the bed.
"Come."
I helped her sit against the headboard before kneeling in front of her.
My hands gently rested over hers.
"No more standing for long."
"No more skipping meals."
"And no more pretending you're fine just to stop me from worrying."
She let out the sweetest laugh through her tears.
"Yes, My Hari"
The single word made my heart stop.
A smile I couldn't control spread across my face.
I lowered my head for a moment, whispering,
"Alhamdulillah..."
When I looked back at her, my eyes were shining.
I squeezed her hand gently.
"Are you ready..."
I smiled, my voice filled with wonder.
"...for our greatest adventure together?"
I gently held both of her hands in mine.
"Jaan..."
"Are you ready for motherhood?"
She looked at me with tear-filled eyes but smiled softly.
I brushed my thumb across her knuckles.
"I know it won't always be easy."
"There will be days when you're tired... days when you're uncomfortable... and days when you'll feel overwhelmed."
My voice softened.
"I wish I could take every ounce of your pain."
"But I can't."
A tear slipped down my cheek.
"What I can do..."
"...is walk beside you through every step."
"I'll be your strength when you feel weak."
"I'll be your shoulder when you need to cry."
"I'll protect your peace."
"I'll remind you how strong you are when you forget."
"And I'll love you even more with every passing day."
I gently kissed the back of her hand.
"You'll never carry this journey alone, my jaan."
"It's our baby."
"Our journey."
"Our dua answered."
"And by the permission of Allah..."
"I'll be beside you through every appointment, every heartbeat, every fear, and every beautiful moment until our little miracle is safely in your arms."
I rose to my feet and walked over to the bedside, sitting beside her.
The first thing I did was gently place the back of my hand against her forehead.
No fever.
Only then did I let out a quiet breath of relief.
"Did you have dinner, jaan?" I asked.
She laughed softly, intertwining her fingers with mine.
"I did."
"I made soup for both of us."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"But you told me to eat early, so I did."
I kissed the back of her hand.
"Good."
"That's my good girl."
She tilted her head with a playful smile.
"What about your day?"
I shook my head and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Shh..."
"Nothing is more important than you right now."
"My day can wait."
"I want to see my jaan first."
"You still look a little pale."
I brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Tell me honestly..."
"Did you feel nauseous today?"
Her smile grew wider, as if she was amused by how carefully I was watching her.
I simply smiled back.
Every little change in her mattered to me now.
More than ever.
I slipped beneath the blanket and gently gathered her into my arms.
She settled against my chest as though that was where she had always belonged.
I smiled.
"My teddy bear," I whispered, kissing the top of her head.
"I missed you so much today."
She looked up at me with sleepy eyes.
"I missed you too, Haris."
I tightened my embrace just enough to let her know I was there.
"I couldn't focus on a single meeting."
"My heart was here... with you."
Leaning down, I placed a gentle kiss on the tiny mole that I adored so much.
She let out the softest laugh before snuggling even closer.
I rested one hand protectively around her while the other gently covered hers.
"Sleep now, my jaan."
"I've got you."
"And I'll always take care of both of you."
A peaceful smile spread across her face.
Within minutes, her breathing became slow and steady.
Holding my wife-and our greatest blessing close to my heart-I whispered,
"Alhamdulillah."
Then, wrapped in gratitude and peace, we drifted off to sleep together.
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