Meri Musibat [Tere Bin FF]

38. 80, 83

A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of Meri Musibat. It's been a ride -- when I started this story I never thought so many people would love it as much as y'all have. I remember waking up to hundreds and sometimes even over a thousand notifications after dropping a chapter - which was wild. I have loved reading all your theories, comments, reactions, and jokes throughout, and have been super touched by the response. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love, hope you enjoy the last chapter!

(P.S. Thank you to Nikki (vxrglow) and Mayi (ginrosehar) for helping make Murtasim's luscious beard white/grey for the header!)

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Meerab sat amidst the vibrant blooms of a garden at its peak.

Roses in deep reds, vibrant yellows, and delicate pinks swayed in the breeze, while lush hydrangeas in whites and purples added depth to the landscape.

The garden hummed with the sounds of laughter and joy, blending harmoniously with the rustling leaves and the sweet, pervasive fragrance of the flowers. Guests of all ages mingled around her, from the tender youth of babies cradled in their mothers' arms to the seasoned smiles of those in their seventies and eighties.

Along with humans, there were goats grazing about – they were such a part of their life that neighbours had dubbed their house the goat house while Murtasimbakri and her offspring roamed the gardens. The goats that roamed the garden then were all descendants of Murtasimbakri, who had lived a long life, leaving behind generations of offspring. Many of the goats grazing, playfully pursued by children, bore a striking resemblance to the first gift Murtasim had ever given Meerab.

Meerab's eyes lit up as she heard the familiar footsteps approaching. Turning, her smile deepened upon seeing her husband. Despite the years, in her eyes, Murtasim retained an unrivaled handsomeness, a timeless charm that had first captured her heart decades ago. Despite the silver that now streaked his hair, his piercing gaze held the same warmth and depth it always had, while the subtle black streaks in his beard provided a reminder of the youthful vigor that had drawn Meerab to him all those years ago. The lines on his face spoke of the many moments they had shared, across their long life together and yet, to Meerab, he still looked like the man she had married all those years ago, her Murtasim. His smile, tender and loving, was still enough to light up her world, and the sight of him walking towards her still made her heart flutter like it had so long ago.

As Murtasim reached her, he gently draped a shawl over her shoulders, his hands careful and tender as he arranged the fabric to shield her from the cool breeze. Meerab's body, aged yet graceful, felt the chill more swiftly these days, and his thoughtfulness warmed her as much as the shawl.

She watched his face as he fussed over her, ensuring every fold of the shawl was in place, and her heart swelled with affection. "This one is yours," she said, her voice soft with affection, acknowledging the shawl he had chosen for her.

"They all look better on you anyways," Murtasim replied with a playful grin.

He leaned in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, a happy sigh left her lips.

Settling beside her once again, he took her hand in his, their fingers intertwining naturally.

"Happy 80th Birthday, Ammi," Meesam said as she approached them.

Meerab hugged Meesam warmly, pressing a kiss to her cheek that stirred memories of a lifetime filled with love and laughter.

"Thank you, Mee-Mee," Meerab responded, her voice thick with emotion, her heart not ready to let go of the nickname they had given her when she was a toddler, even though she was now over 50 herself.