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❝𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖.❞

Prophet Muhammed (PBUH)

Prophet Muhammed (PBUH)

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"Jeeju, Are you ok?"

Shyan moved his hands from his face and looked down to see a pair of legs standing near him. He raised his gaze to find Ayesha's worried face. He nodded at her question before lowering his gaze, "It is not me, it's her who is not fine."

When he was taking Zoya to hospital, Ayesha had jumped in front of the car and requested to go with him. Scared at the sight of his kerchief getting damped with Zoya's blood, he waved his hand at Ayesha to get in quickly. A weird fear had gulped his heart at the thought of something happening to her.

"But Abdul-Rehman Uncle said she is fine," Ayesha clarified before extending a bottle of water to him. "Drink!"

"I cannot gulp a drop till I get to see her," Shyan mumbled, covering his face with his hands. She was his wife, his responsibility! Her safety was his duty and he failed in it. Such a loser he is! Though his father-in-law assured him that his wife is safe, the time they were taking to shift her to a room was adding on to his fear.

"Drink it, please. It will calm your mind." Ayesha moved the bottle in front of him and sighed in defeat when he didn't budge. "I cannot believe she was worried over you! Your carelessness might have been the reason for her worry because she cannot worry over you not giving attention. Her insane lover you are!"

He looked up when he heard about Zoya worrying over him. "She was worried for me?"

"No. She was worried for Ashique Sultan!" She deadpanned and the latter's face hardened. Slapping her palm over her forehead, she chuckled, "You don't know Ashique Sultan, right? He was a celebrity in our campus and I was a great fan of his voice. He'll charm you with his melodious voice!" A dreamy look crossed her face as she thought about her ideal man who was too good to be true. The white walls of the hospital brought her back to the reality. Scratching her head through her hijab, awkwardly, she continued on the main subject, "When I asked about her mood, she said you drop wet towel on the bed, you never fold the blanket, you hate her food habits and so on." She turned to the emergency room when the door opened.

Shyan ran to the door to see his wife being carried on a stretcher. He sighed in relief seeing her open eyes to see his face. Watching his face for some time, a small smile adorned her lips, "Shyan!"

He nodded with a smile while walking along with the stretcher which took them to a room.

Ayesha stopped before the room, not wanting to interrupt their moment. She leant onto the doorframe choosing to watch them for a while before making her presence known. She wanted to see how Shyan would react that now he got to know he worried her friend. Wrinkles formed on her forehead as the two kept looking at each other without exchanging a word. When a hand tapped on her shoulder, she turned around, startled.

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