Murtasim stood by the doorway of their bedroom, arms folded, leaning against the frame, a mischievous grin creeping up his face. His eyes were glued to Meerab, who sat cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone. She was lost in her own world, unaware of the devious plot Murtasim was concocting in his mind. It had been on his mind for weeks now—Meesam was getting older, and Murtasim couldn’t help but crave the chaos, the sleepless nights, and most importantly, the overwhelming love of another little one running around their house.
He wanted another baby.
And today, he had made up his mind. He was going to persuade—no, seduce—Meerab into agreeing to baby number two.
But Meerab was not the easiest person to convince. She had always been fiercely independent, logical, and, above all, not easily swayed by Murtasim’s charming tactics. Still, he was determined. He knew he could do this. After all, hadn't he won her heart once?
“Meerab,” he called out, his voice a low purr as he slowly made his way toward the bed.
Meerab didn't even look up. "Hmm?" she responded absently, still scrolling through her phone. "Did you say something?"
Murtasim took a deep breath. Step one: Create an atmosphere. He pulled out the scented candles he had hidden in the drawer earlier and lit them one by one, placing them strategically around the room.
Meerab finally looked up, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "What's with the candles? Are you planning some sort of a seance?"
"Very funny," Murtasim replied, rolling his eyes but not losing his focus. He moved closer to the bed, sitting down beside her. "I just thought we could have a... special night."
Meerab narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Special night? What did you do this time?"
"Do?" Murtasim gasped, placing a hand on his chest as if he were deeply offended. "Why do you always assume I've done something wrong? I’m a gentleman!"
She laughed, shaking her head. "You are not fooling me, Mr. Khan. Spill it. What are you up to?"
Murtasim leaned in closer, his lips dangerously near her ear, his voice dropping an octave. "I want to talk to you about something important."
Meerab froze. That voice. It was his "I’m-up-to-no-good" voice, the one that usually preceded something completely ridiculous. She pulled back, narrowing her eyes at him even further. "I’m listening."
"Meesam is growing up so fast," Murtasim began, trying to sound casual but failing miserably at keeping the excitement out of his voice.
Meerab raised an eyebrow. "Okay... and?"
Murtasim’s hand slid up her arm, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns. "Don’t you miss the sound of little feet running around the house? The pitter-patter of tiny footsteps?"
Meerab snorted. "You mean the sound of Meesam throwing her toys across the room? Or her screaming 'NO!' at everything? That pitter-patter?"
Murtasim chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean... wouldn’t it be nice if she had a little brother or sister? A playmate?"
Meerab’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her. She shot him a look, incredulous. "Wait, are you... are you trying to say you want another baby?"
Murtasim leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Not just any baby... *our* baby."
Meerab let out a loud laugh, pushing him away slightly. "Murtasim, have you lost your mind? Meesam is already a handful! I am not going through that again."
