HUSNA

Chapter64

"Being married is like having somebody permanently in your corner. It feels limitless, not limited." — Gloria Steinem

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Two months later..
The faint moonlight seeping through the curtains illuminated her face, revealing her frantic eyes moving beneath closed lids. Hameed gazed at her, He slowly folded back the blanket, uncovering her troubled expression. Her brows were furrowed, and strands of hair clung to her damp forehead. She breathed heavily through parted lips, her chest rising and falling

He gently pressed a hand to her forehead, recoiling almost immediately at the burning heat.

"Ya Allah... you're burning up again," he muttered

Carefully, he adjusted her position she had curled into a ball, clutching a pillow, the towel on her head leaving a wet spot on the pillowcase. Every few minutes he checked her temperature, changed the towel, whispered small prayers under his breath.

When he tried to wake her, she burst into tears, and his heart cracked open. She had been sick for weeks, and nothing seemed to be getting better. Yet she stubbornly refused to go to the hospital.

Her eyes fluttered open, her head throbbing. She struggled to sit up, leaning heavily against his arm.

He supported her gently, guiding her back against the headboard.

"It's fine, it's just a fever, baby girl," he murmured, brushing her hair from her face. "You'll be fine soon, insha'Allah."

The quiet of the room was broken by the sound of water sloshing in a basin. The soft dripping echoed like raindrops as he wrung out a towel. She began drifting back to sleep until the icy towel touched her skin.

She gasped, jerking upright. "It's cold!"

"It's alright, it's just me," he whispered, continuing to dab at her fevered skin. Despite her protests, he stayed patient, wiping gently until her breathing steadied.

"Captain, I'm okay now. Just stop, it's cold," she mumbled, her voice hoarse from coughing.

"You're not fine," he frowned. "And I told you not to hide under the blanket."

"It was cold," she murmured weakly.

He slipped the thermometer into her mouth, waiting for the soft ding. "One-oh-four point one eight," he muttered. "You feel fine, my foot."

He dipped the towel again, this time wiping her face and neck with slow care. She watched him silently, her tired eyes softening at the sight of his focus.

"Captain," she whispered, "do you remember that time

He groaned immediately. "Yes, I remember. The time I said something stupid and Fareeda messed everything up."

She smiled faintly. "Good. Even though you're being nice, I still don't forgive

"I've apologized like a thousand times," he grumbled.

She placed the towel over her face, sighing. "Why'd you stop?"

"The water's warm. I'll get more cold water."

"No," she drawled, eyes half-closed.

He chuckled softly. "Asma, do you want paracetamol?"

"Yes, please," she whispered, already drowsy.

When she reached out her arms, he understood immediately. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, clutching the basin as he carried her toward the kitchen.