Forever His

Chapter 78: A Tiny Bundle

Mahnoor's POV:

Shahmeer's arms are wrapped around me, his warmth cocooning me as I rest my head against his bare chest. His fingers trace slow, lazy circles on my back, and I can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting golden hues across his skin.

"I could stay like this forever," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Who's stopping you?"

I lift my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes are heavy with adoration, with that intense way he always looks at me, like I'm the only thing that exists in his world. He leans in, brushing his lips against mine, slow and teasing.

Just as I deepen the kiss, his phone buzzes on the nightstand. He ignores it, choosing instead to pull me even closer, his lips trailing down my jaw.

The phone vibrates again, more persistent this time.

I pull away slightly, breathless. "Shahmeer, just pick it up."

He groans, shaking his head. "No." He kisses me again, his hand sliding up my waist.

"Shahmeer," I warn, giving him a look.

With a heavy sigh, he turns and grabs his phone off the nightstand. "Who the hell is calling me at this hour?" He presses it to his ear, annoyance evident in his voice.

The moment he hears the voice on the other end, his entire body tenses. "What?" His tone shifts completely, all traces of sleep and affection disappearing. He shoots up into a sitting position. "Okay, I'm coming."

I sit up as well, concern gripping me. "Who was it?"

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "We have to go to the hospital. Ayesha's in the hospital."

I don't waste a second asking questions. I throw the covers off and jump out of bed as he moves quickly to the wardrobe, yanking out a half-zipper sweatshirt and a pair of trousers. I grab the first hoodie of his I see and slip it on, pairing it with the nearest pair of jeans.

Within minutes, we're rushing out the door, the cold night air hitting us as we get into the car. Shahmeer's grip on the steering wheel is tight, his jaw clenched. He doesn't say much, but I can feel the worry radiating off him.

When we arrive at the hospital, I spot Farjaad immediately. He's pacing up and down the corridor, his hands in his hair, stress evident in every fiber of his being.

Shahmeer barely puts the car in park before he's out, rushing toward him. I follow quickly, my heart pounding.

"What happened?" Shahmeer demands.

Farjaad looks up, his eyes filled with panic. "She's in there... They haven't told me anything yet. I was asleep and she'd finished her water bottle. She went downstairs to get some and tripped because she didn't see the stiars and I woke up to her screaming in pain." His voice wavers, and I can tell he's trying to hold it together.

I reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "She's strong, Farjaad. She'll be okay."

He nods, exhaling shakily, but the fear in his eyes remains.

We all turn toward the closed doors of the maternity ward, waiting, praying, hoping for good news.

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Farjaad is still pacing, his footsteps echoing in the quiet hospital corridor. Shahmeer sits beside me, his head in his hands, his leg bouncing anxiously. My own legs are shaking, the worry creeping into my bones. I try to steady them, but I can't. My heart is pounding too fast, my hands ice-cold.