Forever His

Chapter 98: My Family

Shahmeer's POV:

The second the word yes leaves her lips — shaky, tear-soaked, but so sure — something in my chest loosens that I didn't even know was wound so tight. My hands tremble slightly as I pull the small velvet box from my pocket, flipping it open to reveal the ring. Not just any ring — her ring. The one she'd once shown Ayesha, the one she had saved quietly in her camera roll, probably thinking I'd never know. I don't even know if she realises how much time I spent tracking it down, calling jewellers, searching through endless shops until I finally found it. But right now, none of that matters.

I slide it onto her finger slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. "Perfect," I murmur under my breath — though I'm not sure if I mean the ring, the moment, or her.

She looks at the ring like it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, but the way she looks back at me — that's the part that wrecks me. That's the part I'll remember for the rest of my life. I rise to my feet and pull her into me, and she folds into my arms like she's been waiting her whole life for this. Her shoulders shake as quiet sobs escape her, and I feel my own eyes sting. I blink quickly, trying to hide it — but a couple of tears slip anyway. Of course she notices. She always notices.

She reaches up, her small hands warm against my skin, and wipes my tears away. I do the same for her, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone. We're both smiling through the tears, caught in a bubble where nothing else exists except us. Then I lean down and kiss her — not rushed, not desperate, just deep enough to feel every unspoken thing we've ever wanted to say to each other.

And then—

A soft giggle interrupts us.

We pull back, still smiling, and both turn toward the sound. Maryam is sitting in her little car seat on the floor beside the table, her eyes wide and bright, her tiny hands curled into fists. Her giggle turns into a small sound — a sound so pure it makes my breath catch.

"Dada."

The word is so faint, so soft, that for a second I think I imagined it. But Mahnoor freezes too, her eyes flying to mine. We both stare at Maryam in stunned silence, the world suddenly narrowing to just the three of us. My heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts.

I kneel down beside her, my voice trembling. "Maryam... what did you say?"

Her eyes lock onto mine, and I say it slowly, my lips exaggerating the shape of the word. "Da-da."

And then — like she's been saying it her whole life — she repeats it. "Dada."

My vision blurs instantly, and this time I don't bother hiding it. I glance at Mahnoor, who's already tearing up again, her hands pressed to her mouth. My throat feels tight as I scoop Maryam up into my arms, holding her against my chest. She's so small, so warm, her tiny head fitting perfectly beneath my chin.

"Say it again for me, Maryam. Da-da." I whisper against her soft hair. And she does. Quietly, confidently. "Dada."

I press a long kiss to the top of her head, my voice breaking as I laugh through the tears. "That's me, little princess. I'm your dada."

Mahnoor kneels down beside me, her hand resting on my back. I hook an arm around her and pull her against my side, kissing the top of her head. We stay like that for a moment — our daughter safe in my arms, my wife's hand curled into my shirt, the three of us bound together in a way that feels... unbreakable.

In all my life, I've chased power, money, control — and yet here I am, realising the only thing I ever truly needed was this. Them. My family.

And I'm not just happy. I'm whole.

                                                                                    ______________

We're still riding the high of the proposal — her ring glittering in the sunlight, Maryam babbling in her seat, the three of us wrapped in a warmth I don't think I'll ever forget. But I'd planned more for today. This isn't just about asking her to marry me again — it's about reliving the moment our story began.

I pull her chair out for her like I did back then, and once she's seated, I take my place across from her. The restaurant is completely empty except for us, just like I'd arranged. The only other person in the room is the waiter — the same waiter who served us that first day. He hasn't aged a bit, still wearing that polite smile that hides the fact he notices everything. Somewhere in the back, the chef works quietly, just like before.

The waiter approaches, pen poised over his notepad, but his eyes light up when he sees me. "Shall I bring the usual, sir?"

I can't help the grin that spreads over my face. "The usual," I confirm, just like I did that day — same tone, same confidence.

Then he turns to Mahnoor, and I see the spark in her eyes — the playful mischief that tells me she's about to test him.

"And for you, ma'am?" he asks politely.

She leans back slightly, her lips curving into that little smirk that always gives her away. "I'll have my usual order too."

I already know what's coming. The waiter glances at me, and in perfect sync, we both say it out loud without missing a beat:

"The chocolate lava cake with two BIG scoops of ice cream and one chai with two spoons of sugar."

We even hit the word "BIG" with the exact same emphasis she used that day — the one that made me blink at her, wondering how someone could be so adorably particular about dessert.

Mahnoor laughs, shaking her head, and I can't help laughing too. The sound takes me back — to that day when I didn't know her name, didn't know her story, but somehow knew she was going to change my life.

And she did.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Heyyyyy!

I just had to make it reminiscent of their first 'date'/meeting

Yep, just to confirm tears are pooling in my eyes too!

Keep reading and I'll see you in the second last chapter :(

Love you ALWAYS!

Byeeeee!