Waleed Asad Bukhari is the ultimate workaholic. With a flourishing tech company to look after, he doesn't have the time or interest for a life outside of it. Neither does he want the wife his mother is imposing on him.
That is until he finds himself...
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Epilogue | Eliza
It was a work of art how women spent hours pampering themselves and running through their skin care routines made up of at least seven items. The most I could sit through was washing my face once in the morning and once in the night, brushing my teeth both times, and applying face cream. It was exactly what I did now, after I'd changed into my favourite burgundy nightsuit (that I totally hadn't been wearing for four nights in a row. No, of course not).
Once done, I didn't dare pay a glance to my hair or even accidentally touch them or the strands that were escaping out of my messy bun. Stepping out of the washroom, I was greeted by a cold, dim and silent room, but I stopped, hearing the whispers, and leaned against the door frame with crossed arms.
Waleed strolled around in the room, his footsteps light as he gazed down in his arms, smiling at the little white bundle in his arms. His one-month-old—meribhihai—daughter.
"She's not sleeping in the crib today either, is she?" I asked sceptically, watching him fawn over his daughter like she was a miracle of the world.
"Dil hi nahikartachhorneka. Mein kyunkarunab?" Waleed answered, not paying me a second glance as he continued murmuring something that she heard with wide eyes, looking at him like he was a miracle. I didn't even seem to fit anywhere in their father and daughter equation.
*"My heart doesn't want to leave her. What can I do?"
"Jee, jee. Aap to bohatmajboorhainapnibetikeaage." I rolled my eyes though I was smiling myself. I'd rarely ever seen Waleed so in love with anyone as he was with our daughter.
*"Yes, yes. You're very powerless in front of your daughter."
I could count on one hand the number of nights Eshal had spent in her cot, and even on those, Waleed had gotten up some time in the middle of the night and carried her to our bed, either to put her to sleep between us or on his chest, holding her either ways. But, yes, Waleed couldn't be blamed. I rarely ever put her down too once I'd held her.
I got onto the bed, adjusting the pillows to make space in the center. Waleed simply shook his head as he climbed onto his side, bringing Eshal along. Then as he laid down, he gently placed the dozing girl on his chest, patting her back to put her to sleep, his eyes never leaving her and a smile never leaving his lips.
