The Autumn Love

Eighteen

Abdullah was sleeping peacefully and Kinza was staring him. The scars on his neck were still engraved in the skin. She felt as if her heart would come out. His face was displaying a serene tranquility and she was deeply observing it. She remembered what she was doing ten minutes ago when he was constantly moving his left foot in sleep. A smooth application of an analgesic ointment by her expert fingers made him relaxed.

Thinking of the time when he stopped her from putting his shoes off was enough to make Kinza's life easy. Her husband was a gentleman. She was able to realize it that he was continuously trying to keep a safe distance just to make her comfortable. He was trying to give her space for adjustment and she was falling 'hard' for him. Life suddenly took a beautiful turn and she welcomed it with open arms.

His light, breathy snores were echoing in the room and sitting on the nearby couch she was enjoying the rhythm. He, while dozing off, wanted to say something to her but the words were failing in his mouth. The silence in the room and the much dimmed light was relaxing as she wanted him to sleep. Switching her gaze from his face, Kinza took a deep breath. She was attentive for his help, anytime. When signing the papers of Nikkah, she had decided to transform herself in his loving, supportive wife. Her husband was not an ordinary man. Their marriage was in the eyes of media and they were in search of any single moment to broadcast. She was careful in every respect. 

Her exams were about to start in a week and she had to prepare but now it seemed that she would like failing other than leaving him for a day, or three important hours. She was the high scorer in her university and those last six months were going to mark the end of her graduation. It was important to give her best shot but he had already conquered her heart. She was ready to spend ages with him, staring him every passing second; observing the movement of his hair when he moved his head, his grip on fork while having his favourite cheese omelet, the way he picked his perfume, the way he tied the chains of his wrist watch, everything, every time.

It was her dream to be a professional, a financial analyst, but now the room with him was getting more importance. Her mind was telling her the ways to pursue her dream but heart was on rebellion. Smilingly, she finally freed her head from the dopatta and opened her hair. Getting up from the couch she walked to the breath taking perpendicular window. That piece of glass had stolen her heart when she entered in the room. The room was gracefully decorated for him, according to his taste. She moved her finger on his wardrobe and quickly looked at her right side, as if he was still there looking at the archaic handle. 

The madness was taking her in its grip. She was helpless. She wanted to escape through the days of longing but her prestige and his concern were conflicting. She remembered how sublime she felt when his arm surrounded her. How fast that moment was although being slow on her heartbeat! She was thirsty for his affection but the galaxies were forgetting their ways.

She changed into an easy dress and refreshed herself.

....

It was so early in morning when she entered in the kitchen. The cook was busy in planning the breakfast and her entry made him shocked.

"Ma'am, do you want something? Why are you standing here? Madam will get angry." He was confused.

"Take it easy. I want to cook something. No one will scold you." She said politely.

"I will make it for you. Tell me what you want."

"Nothing. Just give me two eggs and single slice of cheese."

"Okay, but ma'am I am feeling bad as you are cooking."

She wanted to tell him that she loved to do it but she just relied on a humble gesture.