The Secrets We Keep Hidden

18 | No Misgivings or Shortcomings

"You might not have been my first love but you were the love that made all the other loves irrelevant." ~Rupi Kaur 

Ridwan steadily knocked on the large wooden doors to his bedroom, awaiting a response from the other side. He was mindful of the fact that his room was not his alone anymore, and the warm body that he shared it with would not appreciate him barging in if she were on the other side of the door. 

"Aajayen (Come in)," her raspy voice called from inside.

He exhaled a deep breath and slowly turned the doorknob of his large suite. He was gentle in his manners, awaiting someone to tell him to stop, but when she didn't, he pushed the door into the room and slowly looked around. The sweet air of the clean space welcomed him with open arms.

His breath stuttered in his chest as if it were a fish out of water, trying to catch its last gulp of air. The rooms bright lights were dimmed to only the lights above the king sized bed and vanity lined alongside the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

The windows and balcony doors were cracked open, letting the Karachi breeze weave in through the doors as it wafted an alluring fragrance of dried roses, cardamom, lavender, and jasmine. It was an exotically aromatic fragrance, and it only belonged to one person. 

Firdaus.

She stood in front of the antique vanity table as one leg rested on the floor and the foot of the other sat at the edge of the velvet futon. Her chin was tilted to the side as she diligently clasped the hook of her pazeb on her ankle. He could not keep his eyes away from the way the soles of her feet were crimson and ruby, shy yet blushing endlessly. The site took him back to the first time he had seen her at her Nani Maa's house, on the staircase as Hashir had called out for her. 

In that moment, he felt as if the floor from underneath of him was stolen mischievously. He gulped a dry breath and simply breathed in her presence. 

Her beautiful hair was twisted away from her face from either side and wrapped up in an intricate bun behind her head. Small tendrils of idle hair framed her glowing face, a tiny piece caught between her rubbed lips. Two single strands of jasmine flowers from the streets of Karachi sat wrapped around her bun. 

She was so far away yet felt so close by.

Her perfectly curved eyebrows were furrowed in the middle as she struggled with the hook of her pazeb. She had not looked up and was highly encapsulated with the piece of jewelry that was perhaps as stubborn as she was. 

He shook his head at the thought and took in the rest of her; it was too much to take in all at the same time. His mind yearned to absorb every piece of her. 

Her wrists were adorned with the two bangles that he had gifted her along with sets of thin solid pistachio bangles. Slender fingers on her right hand adorned minareted and rustic gold rings along with the exquisite wedding band and engagement ring on her left that he had bought for her with indefinite admiration. 

Ridwan eyed the intricacy of her dark red henna that still adorned her thin hands and fingers. They were newly married and her henna was a testament of their pure relationship. 

She was dressed in a soft pistachio kameez with a matching dupatta and a complimenting ivory shalwar. Rustic white gold zari work enamored her shalwar kameez with feminine curves and flowers. The sleeves of her kameez fell to the hilts of her wrists in sharp cones, and she looked beyond beautiful.