Momin’s POV

I walked out of the airport with a bright smile, scanning the crowd for the one who had promised to be there on time.

“There you are!” I exclaimed, relieved to see Hamdan waiting.

“I thought you’d forgotten my arrival,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up, you moron!” I punched his chest lightly. “First, you come without telling anyone and then ask me not to tell. Why so sudden?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Just some business,” I shrugged, looking away.

“What business requires you to hide this trip from Ruman Mamu and his family?”

“Hamdan, yaar, I’m too tired for your interrogation. Please, drop me at a hotel first, then ask whatever you want,” I said, almost pleading. I was exhausted and needed to regain my energy before morning. It was already late, and I couldn’t disturb Dua’s sleep. I had been dying to see her, but convincing myself to wait until morning wasn’t impossible. After all, I had waited a year and a half—one night wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Fine. But why a hotel? Why not my house?” he asked, confused.

I sighed tiredly. “I don’t want anyone in Ruman uncle’s family to know I’m here, remember?” I reminded him with a sarcastic smile. He shook his head and gestured for me to follow him toward the car.

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Author’s POV

That morning, Dua left for university unaware of the surprise awaiting her.

“Miss?” someone called. She turned to see a child, around six or seven, holding a small but beautiful flower bouquet. He walked up and handed it to her.

“Happy birthday to the prettiest lady,” he said.

A small smile spread across her face. He was the first to wish her personally; her family and Momin had sent messages and calls, but this was different—it was personal and beautiful.

“Thank you, dear,” she said, looking around. “Who gave you this?”

“Your special friend,” he replied, then ran off. Dua frowned for a moment but then, as a name clicked in her mind, a wide smile lit her face.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I knew it was you. Who else could make me feel this special?” she murmured, turning to be enveloped in a tight embrace.

“Ru—” she began, but before she could finish, a familiar voice stopped her.

“Happy birthday, meri jaan! I missed you so much!!” Momin exclaimed.

Dua froze, eyes wide.

“Momin…” she whispered, stunned.

“Yes, your Momin,” he replied, pulling back slightly to stare into her eyes. “Let me see myself in your eyes. I missed you.” His voice almost trembled. Slowly, her shocked eyes softened, reflecting the love she felt.

“I missed you too,” she whispered, tears forming.

“But… how? Why didn’t you inform me?” she asked after a moment.

“Wanted to surprise my beautiful wife,” he said, kissing her cheeks. Dua blinked in surprise; he usually reserved such public displays of affection, but perhaps he couldn’t contain himself here, in America.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, resting his own against hers.

Dua glanced around, uneasy. They were outside the college, and she didn’t want anyone to see her with a boy, especially Ruhan.

Her eyes met his. She had changed—her innocence seemed diminished. Her face was made up with dark pink lipstick and pointed eyeliner. Her outfit, more Western than she wore in India, hugged her figure confidently. Her dyed, short hair framed her bold look.

“Momin, let’s go. If my classmates see me like this, they’ll tease me,” she said, pouting and moving away. He blinked, his chain of thoughts broken, then held her hand and guided her to the car he had rented for the week.

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Birthday Celebration

They celebrated at a restaurant. Momin ordered a beautiful cake for her. Dua’s smile never left her face as she cut the cake and fed him, laughing as he licked her fingers, making her blush like a tomato. She composed herself, and he chuckled.

They spent the whole day together. Momin shared everything from the last year and a half, and Dua shared some experiences from her life with her female friends, including Rabiya. She told him about living in the hostel; after initial displeasure, he let the topic go.

Back at his hotel room, he handed her coffee, standing by the window.

“I didn’t know you started wearing jeans and short tops,” he finally said, voicing what he had been thinking since seeing her. Dua looked down, aware he didn’t understand the change.

“Ah… you know, the environment here. I felt out of place wearing Indian clothes… so I thought a change would be good,” she replied, smiling. She was grateful she hadn’t worn a sleeveless top that day, though sometimes she did wear them.

Momin studied her silently, noticing her confidence in Western clothes. He was wrong—she liked wearing them, but she had never felt comfortable showing off before. Ruhan had made her bold, teaching her to explore things she never imagined.

“If you feel comfortable, it’s okay. But never wear revealing clothes. I don’t care about anyone else. You are mine, and only I have the right to see you in anything—or in…” He whispered, leaning close, “…nothing.” She giggled, placing the mug down. He wrapped both arms around her; she leaned against him.

"Meri biwi… Mera ishq, Meri izzat, Meri gairat, Mera sukoon, or meri tabahi sab tum ho, sirf tum, Dua." [My wife… my love, my honor, my dignity, my peace, and my destruction—all of it is you, Dua.]

“Don’t change yourself. I love you for being you,” he whispered, kissing her neck softly. Dua closed her eyes.

“I love you too. And I am all yours, Momin. Only yours,” she whispered, trying to erase any doubt he might have, tilting her head to the left as he continued to kiss her ear, neck, and shoulder.

He turned her, placing her mug on the table, holding her face gently, forehead to forehead.

“I love you so damn much, Dua, it hurts like hell,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, and chin. “Meri jaan, you’ll be the death of me.” Then, softly, he kissed her lips.

Dua tangled her fingers in his hair, holding his shoulder with the other. Their kiss grew passionate as he sat in the chair, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled him. His hands slid under her shirt, eliciting a moan.

“I missed kissing you… I missed touching you… I missed feeling you close to me,” he breathed, biting her neck.

She unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt—then her phone rang, snapping them back to reality.

“Who is calling at this hour?” he asked, annoyed, checking the time—11 p.m.

“I… I don’t know… I’ll check,” she said, moving to the bed. She knew it was Ruhan. He had tried calling several times today, and she had ignored him, saying she was with her family.

“Hello?” Dua answered carefully, mouthing ‘friend’ to Momin.

“Where are you, Dua?!” Ruhan asked urgently.

“I’ve told you,” she replied, stopping further conversation. Momin wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck.

“Today is your birthday, and we were all waiting for you. You just texted that you were with your family. You could have come in the evening. What happened, Dua?” Ruhan asked. Dua felt caught between them, unable to hang up while Momin held her.

“I’m sorry… we can celebrate tomorrow,” she said, gulping. Momin placed a soft, wet kiss on her exposed neck.

“Okay… anyway, happy birthday, my closest friend,” Ruhan said.

“Thank you… I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she replied, hanging up and turning to Momin.

“Can’t keep your hands off me,” she teased playfully.

“Nah… it’s been one and a half years of longing,” he pouted. She smiled, pecking him on his pout.

“So… are you ready to consum—” she started.

“No. That I want only after your Ruksati, but we can cheat a little as husband and wife. We deserve that at least,” he interrupted playfully, pulling her closer and holding her hips.

“I’m tired, Dua. I want to sleep holding you. I couldn’t sleep peacefully since you came here. Please help me sleep,” he pleaded like a child, forehead resting on her shoulder. She saw the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Aww, my baby… let’s sleep then,” she cooed, laughing, leading him to the bed.

That night, Momin slept holding his Dua peacefully, exchanging a few more kisses here and there, unaware it could be the last night of sleeping peacefully with her.

*********

The next day, Momin dropped Dua at her university.

“I’ll pick you up later,” he said as she opened the car door.

“I’ll come by myself, Momin,” she replied firmly and stepped out before he could say anything.

Dua walked into the college and found Ruhan waiting outside their classroom. She smiled, waving at him.

Ruhan’s eyes narrowed as he looked her over. “You look like old Dua,” he muttered.

She felt it too—like the old Dua, wearing a long kurti with jeans and a scarf around her neck. Her mind flashed to the morning’s events and the faint anger she still felt toward Momin.

Earlier, Momin had brought her to her hostel so she could change. He had purchased dresses for her that were not casual enough for college, and they had stopped at her hostel before class.

Before she could step out of the car, Momin held her hand.

“Don’t dress inappropriately. I didn’t like your dressing yesterday.”

“But, Momin, it was fine—”

“Dua, please. Don’t argue. I like my old Dua. I know you had to change, but please… be my old Dua. I don’t like you wearing tight or revealing clothes. I know you won’t wear anything revealing, but tight clothes also feel inappropriate to my eyes.” He gently cupped her face. “You know how protective I am of you. You are mine, and I won’t let anyone even glance at you inappropriately. You are my most precious treasure, and I won’t allow anyone to touch that.”

Dua felt a flicker of irritation at his caveman-like possessiveness. She wanted to give him a sharp reply but decided to stay quiet. After all, he had come all the way to America just for her birthday and had made the day unforgettable with gifts, love, and attention since the moment they met.

She nodded, and Momin’s face softened into a smile. He kissed her forehead before letting her walk out of the car without another word.

“Hey! Where have you lost?” Ruhan asked, shaking her slightly and holding her arms, bringing her back to reality.

“Nowhere. Let’s go to class. I already missed yesterday’s session,” she replied, ignoring his gaze and questions as she walked into the classroom.

★★★