Kaabil

37. Epilogue

Murtasim

Life was great.

Everything was good.

It was better than good.

Immaculate.

Except for the fact my princess has a crush on her classmate. To make matters worse, my wife was giving her tips on expressing her feelings.

And what was I doing?

I was sitting across from Meerab and Meesam in our living room, gazing at my world and grateful for each step of the journey.

"But Mama, he smiles at me." Meesam gasped, her eyes twinkling at her mother.

I rolled my eyes, "So, I smile at everyone, too." I interrupted their conversation.

Like her mother, our daughter sighed deeply, "No, Baba, he smiles at me as you smile at Mama."

In one instance, Meerab's gaze found mine, and she gave me her world-class radiating grin, making me feel like the luckiest man on the receiving end.

"And how do I smile at your mother?"

My eleven-year-old rose from her seat and found my lap. My hands immediately held her back, preventing her from falling. She tucked my glasses off my face and kissed my cheeks.

"Baba, I'm not blind. Your lips turn up like this," she poked my lips' corners, turning them upwards, "and your face becomes soft." I kissed her palm. "Baba, you love Mama, right?"

I inhaled, "What do you think?"

Meesam beamed at me, "I think yes."

Bringing my lips near her ear, I whispered, "I love her more than my life." She giggled in my lap, warming her petite arms around me and resting her head on my chest. Her one tiny gesture filled my heart with pride.

Our Meesam. My daughter has given me everything in this world—her eyes, which beam whenever she sees me after school, show me I'm doing my best.

I glanced at Meerab, who had tears in her eyes, mouthed, " I love you."

"Baba?"

"Hmm!"

"I love you."

Those three words were enough for me to shed my tears.

"I love you more, Beto."

A knock forced my daughter to look up. Bakhtu stood with our eight-year-old son, Maaz, who was covered in dirt from top to bottom.

I heard Meerab's frustrated sigh. Maaz, who never once looked up at us, gave his devilish grin to his sister. Meesam got off my lap, only to stride towards her brother.

She hooked her arms on her waist, giving him a deadly glare, "Maaz Khan, where were you?"

Our son peered at his sister, grinning and not afraid of anything. "I found a bird nest, but it was too high on the tree. So, I climbed up and fell."

I stood up from my chair, only to find myself sitting beside my wife. She bit her lips, stopping herself from laughing at our kids. Hooking my arms around her waist, I gently traced her skin underneath her shirt.

She glared at me, muttering, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged.

"And how many times did you fall?" My daughter started her interrogation session.

"Seven," Maaz replied with his head meeting his chest.

"Did you see the inside of the nest?"

"Nope."

"Then go and come back until you tell me what was inside a nest."

As soon as my princess said those words, Maaz's eyes twinkled. Meerab twisted her brows. We both tried to figure out why our daughter was encouraging him.

Meesam twisted her upper body, facing us, "Mama, Baba said that we are Khans, and we don't give up until we get what we want. Maaz gave up halfway through. Is it okay if I monitor him outside?"

I let out a small sigh. Meerab closed her eyes and shook her head. "Yes, princess, you can babysit him only if you both don't get hurt."

"I'll take care of him, Baba." Meesam proudly stated.

"And you, Maaz?" Meerab's stern voice made him finally look at us.

"I'm sorry, Mama." This little devil dared to act cute now.

Meerab kneeled in front of our boy, "I'm sure you are sorry, but remember, if you can't climb up, don't be afraid to ask for help."

He gave her a nod.

"And, be careful." She winked at him, then turned to our daughter, "And my princess, you are right. We should never give up and be afraid to ask for help."

"I know, Mama. You taught me that."

"Now go, but be prepared for a bath afterward."

They nodded and ran out of the room. Bakhtu smiled at their retreating figures. "They are good kids, Khan Sab."

"They are," I replied. Bakhtu left afterward, too.

Meerab came back on the sofa, resting her back on my chest. "Now what?"

"Now, we have a few hours before the kids come back. How about we do a couple of rounds?"

She twisted around, "I think that's the best idea you've had in a whole day." I kissed her grin and hooked my hand underneath her bra.

"Not here, Murtasim Khan." She eyed me and followed me to our room.

And this marks the end of KAABIL.

It was a long five-month journey. Thank you for loving this version of Meerasim and my writing. This book is not perfect, but I'm happy you all stayed behind to read the end of it. I hope you liked what you read.

Damn, I ran out of words. Hahaha. Longest story short. Thank you. I'm genuinely grateful for writing this book and for the love you all have shown me.

I had a random thought about Kaabil and sent a message to my friend, telling her that I had lost my mind. I initially wanted to experiment with fanfiction, so I put my other stories on hold to focus on Meerasim. However, I couldn't contain my excitement, so I published the first dedication and prologue on Wattpad. Soon, Wattpad became a regular tab on my laptop, and I wrote more than ever. Of course, there were times when I struggled with writer's block and had difficult days when I had to write certain scenes.

All well, that ends well.

Love you all ❤️