The Wait ✔

Baby Daddy

Murad Iqbal

"I want it right now!" She demanded. Pounding her fist on the dining table. 

"I can't leave you alone, Momina. And I certainly can't take you out with me, at this time of the night." I reasoned. 

"Murad, please! It's just eight. The baby wants it too." She tried buying me with her perfect pout.

"The baby doesn't want it. His mom does." I chuckled, walking towards her, and pecked her forehead. I offered her my hand, which she took and got to her feet. 

I cupped her cheek with my free hand, and leaned in. She took a step backwards, just as I was second away from capturing her lips, not letting me get anywhere close to her. 

"My wife is angry at me now, huh?" I cocked my  brow, with a smirk plastered on my face. 

"Yes, she is." She agreed, turning around.

"Where are you going?" 

"To the bathroom."

"Be careful." I yelled as she shut the door behind her. 

I let out a content sigh. Things were not easy for her. And were certainly toughter for me. I couldn't be with her for more than half of her pregnancy. I didn't know who to blame. If it weren't for my job, I wouldv'e stayed with her, here. And if it weren't for her pregnancy, I would take her with me.

She was mad- no scratch that. She still is mad and pissed off at me. Not that I am complaining, but deep down she knows it's not my fault. Although we spoke to each other every day, but that couldn't fill in.

I came back a week earlier, than I was supposed to, crashing straight at her parents house. Of course her parents knew about me coming early, and we had kept it a secret from her. It was almost midnight, and the house was quiet. Dad was awake waiting for me. The first thing I had asked him was how was her condition, and he shook his head saying she'd cried herself to sleep. All I could do was sigh in return.

I'd taken the Humdaan deal, way too far. I couldn't stand him near her or my child. He's been coming around very frequently, since his first visit. As if that wasn't enough, he even took her to the hospital for her routine check up. Call me whatever for being a protective or rather possessive husband, sitting miles away from her. On top of that, we didn't face time each other since 2 days, because of the  damn fight. Now that's a long time.

Before letting me enter her room, he stopped me, placing his hand on my shoulder and warned; 'You better make it up to her, for the lost time.' At that I gulped my spit and nodded saying 'Yes, dad.' and offered him a smile.

I slowly opened the door, to see her sleeping frame on the bed, her back facing me. I ambled towards her, taking off my shirt, and climbed up the bed, peering at her. Her eyes red from all the crying, her face slightly puffy, her lips swollen. I couldn't help but place a kiss on her temple, and then on her cheek, followed by her eyes. She stirred in her sleep, mumbling something about milk. I chuckled. My eyes went to her ever so huge belly. I moved a bit, kissing her belly. 

My heart swelled with pride and love, for my unborn child, as I whispered; 'Hey baby. It's your dad'. I nodded my head, like he responded to me. 'Yes, daddy is here.  He's back for you and your mama. He won't leave you guys ever again. Not for a month, not for a week, not for a minute. Daddy loves so much you already, and he didn't even see you.' 

I kissed it one last time, before laying down beside her, wrapping my arms around her waist, and pulled her closer to me. Nuzzling my head in her hair, I inhaled her scent and let sleep take me over peacefully after 2 months.