Enwrapped

Chapter 19

The next evening, when Muzammil entered the room, a calm silence greeted him. Placing his briefcase on the hanger, he walked in toward their bed.

Saboor sat upright in the bed, her hair slightly ruffled from a nap. The comforter covered the lower half of her body. When she saw him, a smile widened on her lips.

"Were you late today?" she gently asked, still a little sleepy.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry." He leaned down, rested one arm on the bed, and lifted her chin to have a proper look at her. And then, he stole her lips into a soft, yet ravishing kiss.

"It's okay," she said, pretending her cheeks didn't burn with warmth. "I was napping anyway."

He pushed some of her hair behind her ear. "I'll have a quick bath, and then we'll have dinner with everyone else. Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. Saboor stretched her arms in the air, lazily watching as he grabbed a polo t-shirt and pajama bottoms and disappeared into the washroom.

~

Some twenty minutes later, while drying his wet hair, Muzammil walked out of the washroom. He half expected her to have fallen asleep again, for these days, napping had become a favorite hobby.

But instead, he saw her standing in front of the door. Her figure seemed smaller in his shirt. A hand clutched over her abdomen, as she mumbled something.

"Saboor?" he asked, concerned.

"My stomach... hurts," she mumbled. He came closer, holding her arm, and that was when he noticed that her eyes were wide, and her face glistened with sweat.

Before he could say anything else, she coughed abruptly, her body shaking. She covered her mouth with her hand, but when she took it away, bright red seeped through her fingers.

Muzammil's eyes widened in sheer horror.

She looked at him, confused, as though everything was blurring out. Her hand, her husband's face. The bathroom light from the open door felt too harsh.

"I don't..." she couldn't form a sentence. "I d-don't..."

Before she could finish, the world around her seemed to spin. Her eyes fell shut, and she collapsed straight into Muzammil's arms.

He caught her, but his own knees went jelly with shock, and he slowly sat on the floor.

"Saboor?" he called out, multiple times, his voice growing louder each time. But only blood leaked from her closed lips. His heart felt like it was going to stop any moment.

"Mama! Baba!" he shouted. Mazhar and Israa were already rushing upstairs when they heard him—opening the door, Israa gasped, her eyes widening, while Mazhar rushed toward them both.

"Baba. Hospital..." were the only words Muzammil uttered.

"Moustafa!" Mazhar boomed, his voice reaching downstairs. "Gaadi nikaalo! Abhi!"

Muzammil immediately picked an unconscious Saboor in his arms and rushed out of the room. Heading down the stairs, none of them had bothered even wearing their chappals as they exited the house. The door to the backseat was flung open. Israa scrambled to the front seat.

The car roared to life under Moustafa's hands, and they sped toward the nearest hospital.

~

A few minutes later, Mazhar walked in through the hospital doors, his phone held against his ear.

"I've reached. Where are you all?"

"We're on the ground floor. I think the left side. Still in the emergency ward."