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The house was peaceful that afternoon, sunshine lazily spilling through the lace curtains. Mishti sat on the soft rug of the living room floor, her hair loosely tied in a messy braid, a pencil behind her ear. Abid sat cross-legged in front of her, head bent over his kindergarten workbook, tongue peeking out in concentration as he scribbled the number “7” again and again.
“No, baby. It’s like this,” she murmured, gently taking his hand to guide the pencil stroke. “Not a snake. A straight line down, then a small dash—yes! Like that!”
He beamed up at her, proud and sunlit. “I did it! See? I did it!”
“Yes, you did,” she said, cupping his cheeks with both hands. “My little genius!”
That was the moment Sultan chose to walk in.
Still in his dark button-up, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the heat of his presence reached her before his hand did. He moved behind her and sat close—too close—his thigh pressing against hers.She turned slightly, just to meet his smirk.
“Teaching him numbers, huh?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied, not looking up as she flipped a page in the workbook. “Your nephew’s a quick learner.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Jealous of a five-year-old?”
He leaned in and whispered against her ear, “He gets all your attention.”
She stifled a giggle, swatting him lightly. “Sultan, don’t distract me. We’re doing important work.”
“Five minutes. Just five minutes of your time, Mrs. Khan. Not as a tutor, but as my wife.”
She giggled despite herself, turning her face just enough for his lips to catch the corner of her mouth. It was sweet, chaste—but it lingered. Another kiss followed.
“Micchi!” Abid’s voice broke through like a firecracker.
They both jolted, blinking as if shaken from a spell.
Ge stood with his hands on his hips, frowning at them with puffed cheeks. “Micchi, I show you homework! You not see!”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry, bacha!Don’t be sad, hmm? Show me now, I’m looking!”
He sniffled dramatically. “But big uncle was hurting you.”
That made both of them freeze.“What?”
His voice trembled a little, lips wobbling. “You were saying ‘stop’ last night. I saw. And you were crying. He was eating you.”
Sultan coughed, suddenly very interested in the floor. Mishti’s ears turned crimson.
“I woke up to pee, and you were saying ‘please, Sultanji, please no’ but big uncle not stop. And he was biting you.”
“I—I was dreaming,” she fumbled, struggling to keep a straight face. “It was a bad dream. And he was trying to wake me up.”
