Muhafiz-E-Khan (Tere Bin MeeraSim FF)

51 - Parathe

7 months later.

Murtasim laid shirtless in bed, propped up on some fluffy cushions against the creamy headboard of her gifted Karachi apartment. The baba and son duo cuddled without regard for time; Murtasim had a thick arm wrapped beneath his curled-up son for support, other hand busied in scrolling through emails on his phone and voicemails from his assistant.

Mahir, with his gorgeously supple cheeks and chunky arms that fashioned bulging rolls of goodness, laid flushed against his baba's chest, purring lightly while dreaming about milk and the melody of his mother's giggles that danced around his mind all day and night. Earlier, Meerab had dressed him a creamy sleep suit for comfort, before she went off to shower with a view of Karachi's sea. There, she drowned in rivulets hot enough to soothe her achy muscles.

The men lazed together in her absence, the scene quiet and cosy as Murtasim mindlessly peered down and dabbed little kisses against Mahir's cheek that was firmer now. He remained blithely unaffected, while a content warmness spread through Murtasim's chest. It was bliss; both a healthy baby and a recovered wife were his prayers come true.

Then, Meerab returned from the ensuite along with a train of steam that followed her like magic, hiding within an oversized bath gown. Her hair was twisted up on itself, bare faced and refreshed.

''He didn't complain?'' Meerab asked with pleasant surprise. Any time away from Mahir felt like too long. The motherly role she had succumbed to meant that, unfairly, guilt polluted her mind for any little act of self care.

''Complain about what?'' Murtasim's phone lowered to soak in the view of his wife strolling around the room lavishly, the view so gorgeously intimate after the wash left her damp and dewy. ''I'm warm to the touch, and cosy. Main uska baba hun, he knows he's safe with me."

''But not soft like me," she boasted. Her two favourite men getting along so well made her heart swell, helped along by the unerring intensity and affection in Murtasim's gaze.

She was still soft. The resulting ruins of her body after the baby caused shock initially, but she learned to love herself again with time, and Murtasim was the dreamiest personal trainer she could have asked for, knowing just how far to push her and when to let her rest.

''Well, I like your softness too,'' he uttered under his breath, a slightest smirk teasing his lips. Being her personal trainer felt like a treat for him rather than a chore.

Meerab tightened the belt on her hips, a clear warning to not entice her for amorous endeavour — she was easily tempted and more in love than ever, but it was too close to Mahir's lunch time.

"Hmm, i'm sure you do," Meerab muttered and unwound her towel so dripping wet ringlets hung against her gown.

She was now a pilates girl too; Murtasim had kitted out a fancy at-home studio so she was never inconvenienced from indulging in a session. The strength in her core started to return, bringing firmness back and good posture too.

On the plus side, the new motherly hips were quite sexy, she found, and coupled with the curves of milk-filled breasts rendered her into swatting Murtasim away more times than could be counted on her own two hands for a single day's count. But it was never inappropriate or burdening, only when he sensed she needed an appreciative grope.

Meerab circled the bed and neared the pair in faint steps, constantly fretting over Mahir during her shower so she couldn't fully relax.

He was a mini Murtasim, that consumed her mind all day; his milk, his food, his nappies, his temperature was all she cared about. "I made veg puree for him," Meerab uttered while nearing, wondering if he'd like it. "Did he not cry in hunger?" She took to the bed, close enough that the heat from her damp gown radiated and touched Murtasim tauntingly.