Forever His

Chapter 100: Forever His

Mahnoor's POV:

It's late afternoon, and the sky outside our bedroom window is painted in strokes of warm gold and soft pink, as if the sun is taking its time to say goodbye. The house is quiet — for once. There's no buzzing phone, no doorbell, no clinking dishes from the kitchen. Just the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the sound of Maryam's tiny laughter from somewhere down the hall.

I'm lying on the bed, propped up on my side, flipping through one of my old notebooks. The pages are worn, filled with messy handwriting, ideas for my bookstore that once seemed so far away they almost felt like fiction. And now... it's all real. Every shelf, every light, every sale. It's mine.

The door creaks open, and Shahmeer walks in, wearing his usual grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He looks at me like I'm the most interesting part of his day, like the whole world could wait just so he can spend another minute here.

He sits on the edge of the bed, glancing at the notebook in my hands. "That the famous dream book?" he asks, his voice warm and teasing.

I nod, closing it softly. "Yeah. It's strange... reading all of this now. Back then, it felt impossible."

He smiles — the kind of smile that makes my chest ache in the best way. "Not impossible. Just waiting for you to be ready."

Before I can reply, there's a small thump at the doorway. Maryam stands there in her pyjamas, clutching her little stuffed bunny. Her hair is a tangle of curls, and her big brown eyes — Shahmeer's eyes — peek up at us.

"Up," she says simply, lifting her arms toward her father.

Shahmeer scoops her up without hesitation, setting her between us on the bed. She giggles and instantly climbs onto my lap, pressing her soft cheek against my chest. I inhale the faint scent of her baby shampoo and feel something deep in my bones — a peace I never thought I'd have.

We sit like that for a while, the three of us tangled together, not speaking. Maryam babbles to her bunny, Shahmeer absentmindedly traces patterns on my arm, and I... I just watch them. My little family. My whole heart, right here.

Shahmeer eventually leans down to kiss the top of Maryam's head, his lips lingering for a second before he looks at me. His voice is quiet, but steady. "You know... I think about it sometimes. The day we met. The mess that followed. How much I almost lost."

I tilt my head, studying him. "And?"

"And... I'd go through it all again," he says, his eyes locking on mine. "Every single thing. Because it led me here. To you. To her."

Maryam looks up at the sound of "her" and points to herself proudly. "Me?"

He laughs, nodding. "Yes, you. My little Maryam."

She beams, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. I watch them, my throat tightening. It's still unbelievable sometimes — that this man who once scared me, who I thought I'd never love, is now the safest place I know.

The sun dips lower, spilling a softer, deeper gold across the room. I shift Maryam into Shahmeer's lap and lean against his shoulder. He rests his chin on my head, his free hand finding mine under the blanket. His thumb strokes over my wedding rings — one he put on my finger out of duty and one out of love.

"You're quiet," he murmurs.

"I'm just..." I take a deep breath. "I'm just happy. The kind of happy that makes you scared you'll wake up and it'll all be gone."

He turns my face toward him, his gaze firm but gentle. "It's not going anywhere, Mahnoor. Not me. Not her. Not us."

I swallow hard, unable to speak, and he keeps looking at me with that steady, grounding gaze before continuing.