Eternity

Chapter 65

As-salamu alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuhu

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One year had passed since that heart-wrenching day in the hospital when Zayan and Ayzal had held their newborn son, Murad, for the first time. The name, once so heavy with grief and memories, had taken on new meaning in their lives. Murad wasn’t just the echo of a lost brother; he was their light, their joy, their little boy who had transformed their world.

The warm sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. A gentle breeze drifted in, carrying with it the scent of blooming jasmine from the garden outside. The house now echoed with the sweet sound of his laughter. Every room was filled with the remnants of his presence—tiny toys scattered about, baby books with soft covers, and even the walls seemed to hum with the joy he brought into their lives.

In the middle of the living room, little Murad was playing, his tiny hands gripping a colorful block as he babbled in his adorable, broken words. At just over a year old, his speech was still developing, but he had begun to grasp a few words that he repeated often, bringing joy to his parents every time he spoke.

Zayan sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes full of wonder as he watched Murad carefully place the blocks one atop the other. “Look at him, so focused,” Zayan said with a soft smile, leaning back slightly, his gaze shifting toward Ayzal, who was seated nearby.

She chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with a mother’s pride. “He is always like this when he plays. Completely lost in his own little world.”

Their son glanced up at them, his big brown eyes filled with curiosity, and suddenly dropped his block, toddling over to Zayan. “Dada,” Murad said, his voice laced with excitement, his tiny arms reaching upward.

Zayan’s heart melted at the sound. Every time Murad called him “Dada,” it felt like he was hearing it for the first time. He scooped the little boy into his arms, holding him close. “What is it, my little man? What do you need?”

Murad giggled, pointing at the window, his small finger tracing the outline of the birds that fluttered outside. “B-bird!” he managed to say, his face lighting up with joy.

“Yes, that’s right!” Zayan said enthusiastically. “Bird!”

Ayzal couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. It was moments like these that made her heart swell with love for the life they had built together. Zayan, always so attentive, had grown into the role of a father with such ease. And Murad, their precious boy, brought a happiness into their lives that words could never quite capture.

Murad squirmed out of Zayan’s arms, his little feet carrying him back to his toys, his giggles filling the room. Zayan turned to Ayzal, his gaze soft and filled with affection. “He never stops, does he?”

“Never,” Ayzal replied with a gentle smile. “I can barely keep up with him these days.”

Zayan shifted closer to her, his hand resting on hers, their fingers naturally intertwining. They shared a quiet moment, the warmth of each other’s presence filling the space between them. The love they had for each other was no longer something that needed to be spoken; it was simply there, in every touch, every glance, every quiet laugh shared over the smallest things.

“Do you remember how we used to worry so much about whether we were ready for this?” Zayan mused, his voice soft as he leaned his head slightly toward hers.

Ayzal nodded, her smile widening. “I do. And look at us now. We are parents to a little boy who is already talking and running around the house. I think we have done pretty well.”

Zayan chuckled, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. “I think we have done better than well. I think we are pretty amazing.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. There was something so simple, yet so profound, in the way they looked at each other. It wasn’t just about love—it was about the life they had created, the family they had become. And in that shared gaze, they both knew it without needing to say a word.

Murad’s playful babbling brought them back to the moment. He had returned to his blocks, attempting to stack them again but knocking them over with a delighted squeal. Zayan and Ayzal exchanged a knowing look and laughed softly.

“I think he gets that from you,” Zayan teased, nudging her lightly.

“Oh, really?” Ayzal raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “I think he gets his endless energy from you.”

Zayan smirked, leaning in a little closer. “Well, if that is the case, then I guess I will just have to keep up with both of you.”

“Good luck,” she said with a grin, her tone playful but filled with warmth. “You will need it.”

Their laughter mingled together, a sound that felt as natural as the air they breathed. Murad looked over at his parents, curious, and toddled back toward them, his arms outstretched once more. “Mama,” he said, his small voice wrapping around the word like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ayzal’s heart swelled. She leaned forward and lifted Murad into her lap, kissing his forehead. “Yes, my little love?”

Murad babbled something unintelligible, but it didn’t matter. The look on his face said it all—he was happy, he was loved, and he felt safe in his parents’ arms.

Zayan moved closer, wrapping his arms around both of them, his chin resting lightly on top of Ayzal’s head. The three of them sat together in a gentle embrace, a quiet moment shared between a family that had found its peace, its joy.

“You know,” Zayan whispered softly, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”

Ayzal smiled, leaning back into him, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. “Neither would I.”

Murad wiggled in her arms, turning to look up at his father, his tiny hands reaching up to touch Zayan’s face. Zayan grinned, pressing a soft kiss to Murad’s palm, causing the little boy to giggle in delight.

“I think he wants a kiss from you too,” Zayan said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Ayzal.

“Oh, does he now?” she said playfully, leaning in to kiss Murad’s cheek. The boy squealed again, his laughter filling the room.

As the day went on, the three of them stayed together, playing, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. It was these small, simple moments that meant the most. The joy of watching Murad take his first steps, the sound of his first words, the warmth of their home—it was all they had ever needed.

Later that evening, after Murad had finally drifted off to sleep, Zayan and Ayzal found themselves alone in their quiet home. The night was cool, the air crisp as they sat together on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket and sipping tea.

The stars twinkled above them, and the world seemed so much quieter, as if it was giving them this moment just for themselves.

Zayan reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life.”

Ayzal turned to him, her eyes soft and filled with love. “Why not? It is a good life, Zayan. One we have built together.”

He smiled, a contented look settling over his face. “I know. And it is perfect.”

She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder, the quiet comfort of his presence making her feel at peace. “Yes, it is.”

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, with the stars overhead and their little boy asleep in his room, it was clear that this—this quiet, beautiful moment—was the ending they had been searching for.

But it was also the beginning of everything they would continue to build together. Their family, their love, and the life they had chosen to share. And it was perfect, just as it was meant to be.