"There will be no divorce, ever. So think before you say yes." His view fixated on her.
"I've already said yes." Her voice and eyes were dim, too much for anyone to not notice.
"I'm a cruel man so don't you dare humiliate me if you get cold feet and...
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"She's my jaan, Shery." Rehaan looked at the tiny little boy who sat next to him exactly like he was seated.
"But she's my jaan." He said with a smile and nod just like his mother's.
"She's your mum, call her mum, she's my jaan." Rehaan tried to reason with his four year old son who was the exact replica of his wife. He was Shahwar in every aspect. Appearance and even nature. The only thing Shehriyar had that was like his father was his eye color, golden-brown, everything else was his mother, the way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he smiled, the way he wouldn't complain about anything, the way he was extremely polite and would always listen to whatever he was told except for right now.
"She's my jaan." He repeated softly again and the car stopped at the cafe.
Shehriyar got out of the car excitedly to run inside the cafe to his mother. "Baba, je m'en vais."
(Dad, I'm going.)
Rehaan walked inside following at his own pace. When he spotted Shahwar, the mother and son were both engulfed in their own lovey dovey hug and conversation as Shahwar kept on kissing her son after every word that Shery said.
"Can I get the cookies jaan?" Shery pointed to the jar placed on the glass shelf for the customers of the place that he always wanted after coming back from school.
"Of course." She pecked his hair and moved to take the jar in her free hand holding her son in the arm of the second one.
Before she could twist the lid of the jar Rehaan reached and took it from her hands to open it, "Here." He took out just a single piece and gave it to his son.
"Thank you." He said taking it and Shahwar put him down for him to move around the place like he loved to every afternoon.
"I wasn't late for picking him up from school." Rehaan pulled his wife to hug her and wrapped his arms around her waist, he always remembered about their first meet every time he went to pick his son from school, about him being late and making their kids cry for not being picked up by him on time.
"Did you talk to him?" She referred to the conversation he had said he'd have with his son about calling Shahwar 'jaan'. Shery had always called Shahwar 'jaan' instead of mum. The reason was Rehaan. His father called her jaan and he did whatever his father did. He liked to do everything that his father did. But it bothered Rehaan like a petty man, after all Shahwar was only his jaan and no one else's.
"Yes but he isn't listening." Rehaan kissed his wife's head and then closed his eyes resting his chin over her head.
"He will listen, but you know he only likes being like you Rehaan." She pulled back a little holding his face in her hand.
"He's becoming more and more like these French people. He speaks French more than anything else. I don't want my son to turn into a firangi." Shahwar giggled and pursed her lips at her husband's annoyed expression. Shehriyar was the most gorgeous child amongst all his classmates, and them being French it made them all feel intimidated whenever he stood next to them, only until he had not spoken, because the moment he would speak be it kids his own age or others, they would melt at his politeness and soft spoken attitude. He was only in his early years, playgroup at school but he was a Kazmi and the impact was very evident even then.
