HARRY’S POV

Faisal's house looks exactly like what I would've associated with him. It's a matchbox. A big one. It's shaped like multiple boxes kept over one another. I'm sure he calls it modern architecture or whatever nonsense.

I live in a Baroque Revival architecture, so I clearly have better taste than Mr matchbox here. "Stop glaring at my house." He says as he steps out of the taxi behind me. Since we broke each other's cars, we had no other option but to get a cab.

"You call this a house? I have shoeboxes that are designed better than this." Shortcake holds him back when he decides to lunge at me. "Stop it Faisal, he is our guest."

The menace gives me a glare before telling my wife to enter. And not even a 'you should come too' for ol' Harry here. Aayat and I step into their home with my luggage. She didn't have any since she left her parent's house without her stuff.

So it's mostly my luggage with a few things that I bought for her with three pairs of clothes. She also hasn't dropped my hand. If anything she intertwined our fingers the second we both stepped out of the taxi and hasn't let go since.

I could truly get used to this. Her touching me, and not letting go. I don't see her touch anyone else yet but it seems great to know I'm the one who makes her feel comfortable enough.

A kid that looks like the male version of shortcake comes running towards us. "Mumma, Vihaan spilled chocolate milk all over his bed. I told him to be careful but he didn't listen." And he also is a narc much like his mother.

"I'll ask someone to change his bedding. Till then, we have a guest." The boy turns to my wife and gives her a wave. "Hi Kiaan." My wife says. "This is my husband." It's then that the boy notices me and his eyes widen.

He whips his head towards Faisal before looking back at me. He does the back and forth for a bit before jumping and running towards me. "Uncle Harry!"

He wraps his arms around my legs while I stand there frozen. How does he know me? Did Aayat tell him about me? "Dad said so many things about you! He said you are his best friend and you would come visit us when you got some time! We even have some pictures of you!"

I look at Faisal who looks back at me with defiance. So he does tell people I'm his best friend, fucker never said that to my face. I hug the boy back until he pulls away and then I get on my knees to match his height.

"You look just like your mother. Do you also think your father is too uptight?" He nods immediately. Faisal clears his throat and sends a glare my way. I ignore him.

It's quite late but somehow all his children are up. I met Vihaan who is the prankster. He seemed guilty and adorable when Ananya scolded him for spilling milk but he sobered up pretty quick when Aayat offered him a chocolate.

His twin Ridhaan is another case altogether. He has been scowling at me, much like his father. It doesn't help that they look quite similar, and seem like the quiet ones. I thought he just doesn't talk but he talks pretty well with my wife.

That's when shortcake told me he has a crush on Aayat. He once told her that when he grows up, he will take care of her and love her. Now he is pissed that he isn't needed, since I'm here to take care of Aayat, and to hopefully love her.

"How old is she?" Ridhaan asks. He has been interrogating me to make sure I'm worthy enough for his precious Inayat. "Twenty six."

"Wrong. She is twenty six and a half." I raise a brow at him. This boy is grasping at straws. I look at my wife who laughs a little. "What's her favourite flower?" He asks. I have no idea, which is a shameful confession.

I did get Aayat flowers often but she always reacted to them very neutrally. Nothing made her extremely happy or sad. My lack of answer makes this little shit smug. "She doesn't like flowers." He says. I look at my wife in question and she shrugs.

"They are fine." She says. "I don't hate them, I just don't care for them much. But I liked all the flowers you got me." Well, shit. I need to find something else that makes her happy. I thought she liked the flowers since she always spent a lot of time in trimming the stems and putting them in water. But I guess not.

"She is still my wife, and you can't have her." He raises a brow. "What does she like a lot?" This kid is persistent. But this one I know.

"She likes wearing traditional clothes. She loves her suits and dupattas. She is yet to wear a saree in front of me but I know she loves them. She loves red. Any and every shade of it. She likes spending time with me. Even if we don't talk, just sitting close by makes her feel good."

He turns to Aayat for confirmation and she smiles at me adorably before nodding. "She also really likes biryani." I add. One time she insisted on cooking back at home and made biryani for everyone.

It was the best thing we've ever had.

"Enough now Ridhaan. Let them be." Ananya says, pulling this lost and dissatisfied kid away. I hold his hand before he can leave and speak low, only for him to hear.

"Stay away from my wife kid. She is mine. You can have your own when you grow up." He narrows his eyes. Ballsy. "Yes, I will have mine. And you won't like it." If he tries to hit on Aayat when he is grown up, I'll actually break his face. That'll be fair game, he will be an adult.

He walks away to sit quietly in a corner. "That's the most I've seen him talk." Faisal says. "He is mostly the quiet one." Quiet, my ass.

"Stop glaring at him. He is a kid." My wife whispers in my ear. I hum and look back at the table that now has food that shortcake ordered. Since we were all thrown out of the restaurant, we were all still famished.

I break bread and eat my stew while everyone eats whatever they ordered. "Do you want to try some of this?" Aayat offers me her indo-Chinese food, that she claims she misses a lot in the UK. I try some and I can see why.

We share food while Ananya and Faisal feed their kids who already had dinner but are still interested in more since it came from outside.

—

"This is Meher. She just woke up from her nap." Faisal puts his daughter on my lap. All the other kids went to bed and my wife and shortcake went with them to read bedtime stories.

I'm sitting in the garden behind the matchbox and this hellion just brought out his best weapon. Meher is exactly what I would imagine shortcake would've looked like as a toddler. But she has her father's eyes. She is standing on my thighs while I hold her under her arms.

She is wobbly but she is laughing. She holds my face with both her little hands and laughs as the day old stubble pricks her.

"She loves doing that." Faisal says from my side. "I can tell." I respond when she starts jumping because of the stubble. She can say some words but she still isn't good at formulating whole sentences.

She has straight hair that flies in every direction. I try to tame them but it's useless. "How did you end up marrying Inayat?" I sigh at his question, still holding the bouncing toddler in my lap.

"I was at mount Palacia, kil-" he clears his throat to stop me. She is two, what can she even understand? But well. "Deleting some threats." He nods this time, approving the words.

"And I was standing over Joëlle's grave. I was gloating. Telling her that I've deleted everyone that could fight for what she was fighting for. Telling her that she lost. That's when Aayat came running towards me. She was running from someone and she needed help.

She ignored the blood on me, the psycho eyes and the cemetery. She was so desperate she ignored every red flag. I took her away. Told her I'll protect her and I want her to marry me in return." He nods a couple times. "Do you love her?"

I sigh. "You know Faisal, it's extremely difficult to forget your first love. No matter what they do, there is always a part of you that believes that they had some good in them. Even after all these years, after all the hate I harboured for Joëlle, a part of me, a tiny part of me couldn't move on.

I told Aayat, I don't believe in love anymore because I was still hurt from the first time around. When I was in that coma, I almost died. I don't know if it was real or my brain's imagination but I saw Joëlle.

She had come to take me with her. She told me I can forget all the wrong she did and just live in blissful ignorance in the afterlife with her. It's what that tiny part of my heart that still couldn't forget his first love wanted. I almost agreed but then, then I remembered all the times you lost the love of your life.

I didn't know how I would ever be able to look you in the eye if I ever did that. But more than that, I didn't know how I could leave Aayat. I hated myself for even thinking of going with Joëlle. I can leave the world, but I can't leave Aayat.

So I came back. Only for her. Nothing else in this world makes me want to live the way she does. I want to be there for her, I want to treat her better than the world did, I want all her fears to just disappear, I want to make her happy.

I want to do any and everything that she wants me to do for her, that would bring her joy. She once asked me if I would have a family with her."

I turn to look at Faisal who is looking at me with the kind of sadness that gives way to happiness. Like you know this is the last tear you let loose before you genuinely smile.

"I want that family with her more than I ever wanted anything else. If someone asks if I've ever been in love, I'll tell them I have. And it made me want to die. But then, then I met my wife, and she made me want to live again.

I don't hate Joëlle. Because I don't care anymore. All I care for, all I feel for is my wife." His daughter stopped jumping and slumped against my chest somewhere in between. He releases a shaky breath before smiling.

"Good for you, Harold. You deserve it." He says, looking somewhere in the space behind me. He stands up, takes his sleepy daughter out of my arms and walks back inside the house.

I hear someone sniff before turning in my chair and finding Aayat stand there. Her eyes are red and glassy, she is also fidgeting with her hands.

Her red dupatta, which she told me is called Banarasi dupatta, is now not hanging off her shoulder but it's wrapped around her like a shawl. I stand up when she sniffs again. Her nose has turned red. "Are you crying, darling?"

She shakes her head once before thinking better of it and nodding. "Why?" She smiles. "I have always been unlucky Harry. I've felt scared, discarded, broken, used but, but I've never felt loved. Not until I met you.

Even when you said you didn't love me, when you said you didn't believe in it, you made me feel loved. You took care of me and you protected me. You don't have to say that you love me. Everything that you've done is more than enough for me."

We stand in silence for a few seconds, simply looking at each other. My hands itch to do something but before I can, she walks towards me with determined steps. Closer and closer until there is no air between us.

I open my arms to hug her back but my wife surprises me when she doesn't bury her face in my chest like she has done since she started touching me. Instead she rises onto her toes, cups my face with both her hands and kisses me.

My eyes fall close a second too late as I'm stunned into being a rock. Aayat is kissing me. My wife isn't only holding my hand or hugging me, she is actually kissing me.

She holds my arms and guides them around her waist all the while she kisses me. I only stand there like a statue made out of marble. Only when my fingers graze her hair do I get out of my stupefied head.

I thrust a hand in her hair, using it to pull her head back slightly and kissing her properly. My other hand wraps itself around her waist, pulling her flush against me.

She moans a little, gripping my shirt with one hand and my hair with another. I've been attracted to Aayat for way longer than I care to admit. Even when she didn't want me touching her, I respected her wishes but I dreamt of this happening.

It plagued my mind and I hated myself for it because this wasn't what she wanted. But times have changed and no one is happier than I am. Getting to hold her and kiss her is a privilege I didn't think I'd ever have.

I lick her bottom lip with my tongue and she gives me space to enter. My tongue catches hers in a gentle kiss only for it to turn harsher when her grip on my hair tightens. I groan into her mouth, picking her up and sitting back down on my chair so she straddles me.

Her breathing picks up but she kisses me with so much passion, I feel I've never truly been kissed before.

"Get a room, you two, we have kids in the house." We break apart and I turn to watch both Faisal and shortcake lean against the railing of their terrace, smiling at us.

Aayat gets off of me and I stand up to fix her hair that I made a mess out of. Her whole face is red and she doesn't really meet my eye when she tells me she is going to bed before sprinting back inside.

Fuck you Faisal. Fucking has been ruining good things for me since the last 1600 years.

~~~~~~