Bewitched

Epilogue

MUNTASSIR

The sounds of laughter echoed through the grand halls of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, bouncing off the marble floors and echoing under the towering glass dome. I ran a hand through my hair, glancing around for Nur, our three-year-old tornado disguised as a child, who had just darted behind a column. This place was beautiful, historic, and timeless — but all I could focus on was wrangling our son.

"Nur! Stop running and come back here!" I called, but my words were swallowed by the hum of luxury shoppers and the occasional street musician's melody. He had my energy, that much was clear. Or maybe it was Mumtaz's stubborn streak? Either way, he wasn't listening.

The Galleria was packed. It was fashion week, and Mumtaz had to be in Milan for work, of course. Her career had only skyrocketed in the past few years, and this was one of the most important times of the year for her. She'd wanted us here too, so Nur and I had tagged along — an excuse for a little family time in the middle of her whirlwind schedule.

And, of course, she had tasked me with shopping for designer clothes for Nur. Gucci. The logical part of me knew he'd outgrow them in a few months or ruin them by next week, but for Mumtaz, I didn't care about logic. If she wanted Nur to look chic, that's exactly what he'd be.

As I finally spotted Nur, half-hidden behind a boutique window, I grinned despite myself. "You can't hide from me, buddy. I see you!"

He giggled — that innocent, heart-melting laugh — and took off again. I sighed but chased after him. The private shopping appointment was just minutes away, and the Gucci staff would not appreciate a late arrival, no matter how cute Nur was.

After what felt like a marathon, I managed to scoop him up just as he was about to run into another group of tourists. "Gotcha!" I grinned, lifting him into the air. Nur squealed in delight, kicking his tiny feet.

"Again, daddy! Again!"

"Maybe later," I chuckled, setting him back down on the ground, but this time holding firmly onto his hand. "We have to get you some new clothes first."

Nur pouted, his dark eyes — Mumtaz's eyes — wide and pleading. "But I wanna play!"

I knelt down to his level, brushing his dark curls out of his face. "We'll play after, I promise. But first, we have to look sharp for Mommy. You know how she is."

Nur blinked at me, seemingly considering my words. "Like superheroes?"

"Exactly." I couldn't help but laugh. "Superheroes."

The mention of superheroes seemed to convince him, and we finally made our way to Gucci. The appointment was more like an hour-long session of chasing Nur around the store, trying to keep him still long enough to try on clothes while the staff watched on in polite amusement. I selected everything Mumtaz had asked for — shirts, jackets, sneakers, and even a small scarf that made him look like a miniature fashion icon.

It was a ridiculous amount of money, but for my wife and son, money was just paper. It was worth it to see the joy on Mumtaz's face later when she'd see Nur in his new outfit.

After surviving the shopping spree, I took Nur for ice cream. We sat on a bench, and I watched him eagerly dive into his cone, his eyes lighting up with every bite. For a few minutes, I just sat there, watching him. He had this way of making everything else disappear — all the stress, the hustle, the constant movement of life. He was my joy, my little boy.

"Mommy's gonna like my new jacket, huh?" Nur asked, his face sticky with chocolate.

I smiled, wiping his face with a napkin. "She's going to love it, buddy."

We met up with Mumtaz at a restaurant not far from the Galleria. As soon as she walked in, Nur bolted toward her, wrapping his little arms around her legs. "Mommy!"

She scooped him up with that effortless grace she had, smiling brightly. "There's my handsome boy! And look at you, already looking like a little gentleman," she said, admiring the jacket I'd gotten for him.

I couldn't help but smile as I watched them. Mumtaz was radiant, as always. Fashion week or not, she managed to look effortlessly stunning, even in the midst of her chaotic schedule. Seeing her with Nur like that — it always did something to me, made me fall in love with her all over again.

After a quick round of kisses and hugs, we sat down for a family lunch. It was rare for us to get these quiet moments these days, with our work taking up a lot of our time, but we cherished them when they happened. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter, and stories from the day. Nur entertained us with his never-ending energy, and Mumtaz kept stealing glances at me, like she always did when she was happy.

"This is nice," she said softly, reaching for my hand across the table. "I miss just... being with you two like this."

I squeezed her hand, smiling. "Me too. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Later that evening, we met up with her friends, Sasha and Piper. The second they saw Nur, they were all over him, unable to stop gushing about how adorable he was. It wasn't long before they offered to babysit for the evening, giving us a rare chance to spend some time alone.

Once Nur was happily settled with them, we found ourselves strolling the cobblestone streets of Milan, just the two of us. The air was warm, the city lights casting a soft glow around us. It felt like stepping back in time, to the days when it was just me and her, before Nur, before the whirlwind of life caught up with us.

Mumtaz looped her arm through mine, leaning her head on my shoulder. "Remember the last time we were in Milan together?" she asked, her voice filled with nostalgia.

I chuckled. "How could I forget? That was the trip where I first realized I couldn't live without you."

She smiled, glancing up at me. "We've come a long way since then."

"Yeah," I agreed, my voice soft. "A long way."

We walked in silence for a while, just taking in the beauty of the city around us. There was something magical about Milan at night, something that made everything else seem small in comparison.

"I love you, you know," Mumtaz said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stopped walking, turning to face her. "I love you too. More than anything."

She smiled, that same smile that had stolen my heart all those years ago. "You've given me everything I could ever want, Muntassir. A family, a life I never dreamed of. Thank you."

I pulled her close, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I didn't give you that, Mumtaz. We built it together."

She stood on her toes and kissed me, slow and tender. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the stress of work, not the busy schedules or the endless to-do lists. It was just us, together, like it had always been.

As we pulled away, I smiled, holding her hand tightly. "Come on," I said, nodding toward the street ahead. "Let's go make some more memories."

And with that, we continued our walk through the city, hand in hand, ready for whatever the future had in store for us.