A short story based on the sweet and romantic life of a couple managing life with a young son on their own in England.
>Characters are muslims. But in no way do they preach about Islam. The best guide is the Holy Prophet (PBUH)'s Hadith and Sunna. A...
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Rayan Yazdani & Ayla Abbasi
THE clicking sound of the door resounded in the silent home. It was late at night, and surely his wife and son would be asleep by now.
Rayan Yazdani, was the son of a famous industrialist. His father, a huge name in the iron monopoly back home. At twenty-eight, he was the eldest amongst his siblings. With a brother, aged twenty-six and a twenty-four year old sister.
His brother, Ali Yazdani, had taken over his father's business. Meanwhile his younger sister, Alina Yazdani, was a medical student. In her last year.
Rayan had given up his position, his love for law and passion for bringing the victims justice, was greater than a desire for sitting inside an office.
That is how he found himself in England. Working in a highly renowned firm. Doing his passion justice on the daily.
Rayan was a six foot one tall man. With dark brown hair and a brown beard. That covered his jawline. Highlighting its sharpness. His muscular toned body, and heavy british accent, owning to the fact that he had lived most of his life in London with his mother, Sana Yazdani. Only shifting to Pakistan when she passed away.
His father, Asif Yazdani, was a man of an iron firm grip. He had not taken his leaving the country to settle into pardesh lightly to say the least. Thankfully, his stepmother Faria Yazdani had supported his case. This would make her son the owner of a large empire. So she was bound to agree.
Rayan had met his wife, Ayla Abbasi at court one day. She had filed a complaint against a police officer for giving her a wrong ticket. With her chocolate coloured luscious hair, full pouty pink lips and hazel eyes, she had Rayan smitten at first gaze.
As his firm continued to work with her, he began to feel for her more and more. One day, without informing anyone, he went over to her house. Taking his own proposal. He stopped outside a small apartment building. Entering the small yet luxurious space, he asked to be rung into her place.
Ayla had been shocked to see him. But invited him in, nevertheless. Turned out, she was the only daughter of her parents. They had passed away in an accident. And the pension of his parents, coupled with the money she made as an artist, helped her live a good life.
A month later, he and Ayla had tied the knot. In a small event. His family had refrained from attending. His father still not over the fact that his son chose to work in another country. And his stepmother and stepsiblings, blinded by their hatred for him.
They had managed to buy an apartment after their marriage. It had a huge lounge in the centre, with the kitchen to the right. Behind the lounge, were their rooms and his office. The floor to ceiling windows gave view of the River Thames and the London eye. Ayla loved to sit their and paint.
