— H O O R —. . .“Then what was that?” He asks me, his tone serious and his eyes a bit tiry. “Uh...” I need some time to think of an excuse, Zahir! I swallow, licking my bottom lip and nodding my head and I do not even know why am I doing it. It feels stupid! Gosh, Hoor, what is wrong with you?“What?” He looks confused. “Actually, Zahir... it was just that...”“Just what?”“That I-I was... I-uh... all of s-sudden I suddenly thought of the... of the lingerie in my suitcase!” I finish somehow, giving him the most lame excuse yet holding a bit of truth. Yes, honestly! Bhabhi Rayma literally forced me to pack a few sets of lingerie with me. White, black, and cherry red, she suggested to me those I bought with them on their suggestions. Indeed I was a blushing mess in her presence but she did not make fun of me. Instead, she patted my back and encouraged me. Yeah, quite funny, I know. I had no other way than to silently put those packets in my suitcase though I knew I was not even
— H O O R —. . .As Zahir said, he took me to our next destination the very morning. It was a pleasant morning. I do not know why — surely not in excitement — I got up early and walked to the balcony where I looked out through there and sighed at the peaceful sight. It was around four in the morning when I got up and looked out. The city was bathed in silence. There was no sound made except for the chirping birds. The sun was rising as I looked to my side and the sky was gaining brightness back. It looked beautiful. It was, as if, the very heart of the city was beating slowly and lovingly. It soothed my nerves. Zahir was still sleeping and I did not want to disturb him so I freshened up and got myself a cup of hot coffee. In my mind was the poem of William Wordsworth, On The Westminster Bridge which I studied in my college days. Now I realized what was in William’s mind when he was writing the poem. I behold the view until Zahir gets up and asks me to get ready. I do it. I get r
— H O O R —. . .“We can share, Hoor,” he says while laughing and adding, “Don’t be like a child!”I roll my eyes. “I’m being a child, ha? And what about you? Snatching my chocolate milk, is that what big people do?” I utter, glaring at him while he keeps my cup high up in the air. Gosh, he is such a giant! If I even pounce on him, my chocolate milk will bounce and will get wasted which I truly do not want. “Come on, I just want a few sips,” he says with a shrug. I scrunch my nose. “Okay, take some,” I say, sitting calmly and watching his lips curl in a cute smile. Do not do this! My poor heart is already suffering enough. He lifts the cup up to his lips and as I watch him, I see him gulping down the entire cup. “Zahir!” I grip his wrist, snatching the cup but it is empty by the time it reaches me. I stare at it dumbfounded and press my lips together as I lift my eyes to look at my childish husband. He chuckles, putting down the cup while I am in no mood to laugh at his childi
— H O O R —. . .The moment, his lips come to touch and mold with mine, I become stiff in his arms out of shock and nervousness. My eyes squeeze shut all in their accord and I feel him kissing me softly with a slow yet burning passion. The kiss does not last long and he pulls back, peering open his eyes and so I do the very next moment. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are darker than usual. My heart pounds crazily inside my chest while my arms squeeze between our bodies as Zahir pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. A shuddering breath escapes my lips. He stares at me silently and leans closer. His breath fans my lips and I crave to taste him again. Can I?“I’m sorry, Hoor,” he murmurs before kissing me again, and deep inside, I know why he said sorry for kissing me. Because what’s between us will not last long yet here we are, giving in to passion and this killing proximity. Tears well up in my eyes as I realize from the depth of my heart. They slide down, st
— H O O R —. . .Zahir is made beautifully and I am unable to keep it in silence. But in my mind. I behold his side profile while he talks to me, not even knowing that I am unable to focus on any word. Zahir selected a movie and played it. I turn to look at the screen and realize that it is a sweet romance movie. I hope for no smut, nor does it come to disturb my mind. The movie plays for two hours and we sit in that position. Zahir, finding his comfort in holding me, wraps his arms around my waist and puts his chin on my shoulder from behind. I feel his breath fanning my skin over the satin shirt that I wear. I breathe peacefully in his embrace and listen to him passing comments in the middle. “She is so calm,” he murmurs, pushing his face into the crook of my neck. I tilt my head, letting him do it freely. “And he is selfless,” I say about the male lead. He hums and kisses my neck. I mewl, wanting to tilt my head and leave no space for him but he makes me so otherwise. I, bei
— H O O R —. . .“So how was it?” Bhabhi asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me as she sits on the bed. She smiles at me, her smile is pretty, and her lips are glossy. Bhabhi Rayma’s makeup style is like a fairy but she is already a beautiful woman. Though I know what she wishes to know, I too know I have to behave cluelessly. What does she mean, ha? I chew my bottom lip and continue to fold my cardigan as I unpack our clothes. It is the time I got after Zahir left for office. Keeping the folded dress near to my stomach as I have successfully folded it, I peer at my Bhabhi who is waiting for my answer. “It was nice,” I begin with a spread of my lips as I smile at her, “We enjoyed ourselves a lot. Visited many places. Zahir was nice to me.”“Okay, I see,” she answers me in a sweet melody of her voice as she nods her head. However, I know how she is left unsatisfied. “But I wish to know about that, Hoor,” she insists like a child, watching me turn around as I put the dresses inside the
— Z A H I R —. . .Typical woman, ain't she?No, she is not. Unlike others, she is keeping there a distance between us. Knowing very well that I can have any woman on her knees for me, I still desire her because I too do not wish to whore around on my money’s power and face’s beauty. But Hoor. She is an exception. What she said back there is still lingering in my mind and I am unable to focus on my work. Oh, Lord, keep her away from ruling my mind now. I do not want that. Is it not enough that my body has started reacting on its own whenever around her?It feels like magic. A very strong bond I feel between us. When she is close to me, in my arms, I am unable to hold myself from doing much more with her. She is beautiful. But not only beautiful. She is smart, kind, and gentle, too. When angry, she can have me begging her in a moment but still, keeps it away and tries to be normal with me. She keeps away what I have done and takes care of me like a good wife. A good wife. Yes, s
— Z A H I R —. . .Moving back and forth, I take small sips of my coffee while my secretary is busy with the task at hand. I listen to her opinion meanwhile, keeping in my mind my next plan. Just in an hour, I have a meeting to attend and then my friend is coming to see me, being my lawyer. Well, I know he won’t leave that chance to ask me stupid questions. She begins again, adding a few more things when my phone buzzes and I see it is Dad who is calling me. What's the need?“My Dad,” I say, indirectly telling her to keep silent. She nods and I answer him. I put the phone near my ear and he says, “Zahir, you had no breakfast. You left while we were sleeping.”I chew my bottom lip, my eyes going towards my secretary. I expect a few words of chide from his side and I do not want my secretary to listen to it. “You can leave for now. I’ll call you when I need you,” I say, keeping the phone close to my chest. She nods her head and leaves. As soon as the door is shut, I answer my Dad,