Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her heart thudded erratically. He was so close she could easily count the small spikey hair in his thick eyelashes. His lips lightly touched hers, "Answer me, Nawal."

His lips trailed down to her pointed chin. She swallowed in nervousness, the movement didn't go unnoticed by Salman. His nose lightly rubbed along the frail skin of her throat. Lips at the base of her neck as she sucked in breath. Her eyes closed and she whispered, "You know what I think of you?"

His hand pushed away her dupatta off her shoulder and it fell in a graceful pool of silk. Hands glided down her sides feeling her curves, he clutched her waist tightly, "What?"

Her fingers slipped in his black locks and she lifted his head so that their eyes met. Solemnly, she murmured, "You are worse than a woman on her periods."

His eyes widened and he pushed himself away from her, staggering backwards.

Biting her lower lip to stop from smiling, "Look at your mood swings!!! You can be so unpredictable." She crossed her arms over her chest, "So my dear husband when I am on my periods and being unreasonable you better shut your mouth and accept it as rest of the month I am enduring your mood swings."

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Frustratingly, he ran his fingers through his hair, looking away he muttered, "You really know how to blow a man's ego," he glanced at her, "That's the worst insult I have ever heard."

She grinned cheekily, "And that's what I LOVE about you. When you can be unpredictable so can I."

He shook his head in astonishment, "How do you expect a man to react to your jibes?"

"Maybe sulk in his misery?" she lifted her chin in a challenge.

He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to her, "You want sulk? I will show you sulk,"

Hastily picking her dupatta from the floor, she shrieked as she ran off to the door. Sticking her tongue out over her shoulder, she giggled and stepped out of their bedroom.

"Grow up Nawal!!" he called after her.

He thought she left and didn't listen but he was wrong yet again, "You grow up first" came a reply from the stairs.

She always had to have the last say. His wife was a big challenge. It was not what he had thought of his married life. But at least he wouldn't be bored. Oh no definitely not even one mundane moment with her. And he loved it.

A woman on her periods? Really?

Seriously, only Nawal could say that to him. Smiling to himself and shaking his head in disbelief, he sauntered to his closet to get his clothes out for the evening.

****

A week had passed since their last argument but that didn't mean they didn't banter. Not even a day passed by when they didn't argue over something and as usual most of the times Salman would let go in frustration. She was difficult no slash that she was impossible. Headstrong, stubborn and most of all fearless. He was slowly accepting her reckless personality but there were times he wished she was more amenable and obedient rather than acting like an opposing party ready to jump on him with verbal attacks. Would he ever see an obedient and agreeable wife in her? He doubt it but he secretly hoped so.

On a Friday morning, she expressed her desire to spend the weekend at Shahbaz's home. Salman was standing in front of the mirror fixing the knot of his tie before he left for work. He was dressed in a white shirt and navy blue formal pants and was knotting his pure silk sky blue tie. His lips twitched in displeasure and his forehead creased in annoyance.

"Nawal, you can go for a day but not for days." He reasoned quietly.

She was sitting on the bed still in her cotton pajamas. Her hair in a messy bun, chestnut brown eyes sleepily staring at his reflection, "I miss them. I will be back on Sunday."

He spun around, "No. I have plans for us on the weekend."

"But..."

He interrupted her, "No Nawal. Get ready fast now. I will drop you off now and then I will pick you up in the evening."

"For once agree with me. I am going to my brother's home not to some pub or something. I thought that is my right." She stood up in defiance.

Sighing heavily, "I am not stopping you at all. All I am saying is I want you home tonight so we have the weekend to ourselves."

"As if we are doing anything exciting this weekend," she huffed.

"Fadil has invited us for dinner." He murmured taking his navy blue blazer out of the wooden hanger.

Her eyes lit up, "Oh really? Why didn't you say so." As she thought of spending time with Ramlah and hurried to her closet, "Fine I will listen to you this time. But next time I want to spend time at my brothers' home don't stop me then. I won't agree to your reasons."

Shrugging his arms in the sleeves of the blazer, "Tell me exactly when you listen to me?"

Grabbing her pink kurta and black leggings, she sauntered to him, brushing off lint from the lapels of his blazer, "I just did. Be grateful." Their eyes locked and they stared for a moment.

"You make me feel the luckiest man," he mocked sarcastically.

Lightly punching his arm, she agreed, "You better. No other woman would have agreed to marry a moody man like you."

Grabbing her arm, he countered back, "So you did me a favour, huh?"

Her eyes sparkling mirthfully and impishly, "What do you think?"

His hands went to her hips as he brought her closer, "Then let's taste this favour."

His nose grazed hers, "I thought you were getting late." She made an excuse, scrunching her nose.

"I am the boss I can take a few minutes of pleasure," his eyes dipped to her lips.

She was smiling at his arrogance when his lips met hers.

****

"Are you sure you want to cook today?" Fiza fussed sitting on the chair by the kitchen table.

"Of course I am sure. Besides, we are making lasagne something I am good at making." Nawal replied as she stirred the béchamel sauce.

"You are a great help Nawal. It's really sweet that you thought of coming over and then helping me out with chores." Fiza sighed as she patted her protruding 8 months pregnant stomach.

"No worries, yaar. I have done this for Bhabi countless times when she was pregnant with her kids. Although, then I didn't know how to cook, I always helped in cleaning and minding Liyaa and Daani." Nawal responded, sprinkling salt in the milk based sauce.

"Salman bhai is very lucky to have such a caring wife." Fiza mused out loud.

Nawal rolled her eyes, "Don't even mention him. Sometimes, I feel we will end up strangling each other."

Fiza chuckled, "It happens in an arrange marriage and especially since you were both cousins. With me and Shahbaz we weren't arguing much at the start but it was just awkward and took time to get close."

Nawal bent down to take out a huge Pyrex rectangle dish for layering the lasagne and baking it. "I don't know if we will ever live in harmony."

"Of course you will and then you will laugh at this phase of your marriage." Fiza reassured.

"Let's stop talking about my annoying husband and tell me about the baby. How many weeks left now?"

Rubbing her large stomach, "6 weeks left now."

Nawal smiled as she splashed the bolognaise sauce on top of the pasta in the Pyrex dish, "I can't wait to hold your baby. After all, I am the best phuphu."

Fiza grinned, "Of course you are. I am not denying that and today baby and mama are going to devour Phuphu's special Italian dinner."

Nawal beamed proudly.

"I am sure Salman bhai will love your cooking."

Nawal lips curled in annoyance and displeasure at the mention of her husband again. She hadn't exactly cooked at their home. She only assisted Seema in cooking. She did wonder what her husband would say.

****

Shahbaz had come early from work. It was great to see her brother. She wasn't close to him as she was with Faraz but still she loved her sibling. But most of all, she had great friendship with her sister in law Fiza. The day had passed by in a blink of an eye. Salman was due to come any minute now and she would have to leave after dinner. It was only after marriage she valued small things in her single life such as the bonding with her brothers. She had taken this for granted but now every moment spent with them was like a treasure that was precious to her. When Shahbaz had hugged her after coming back from work, her eyes had watered feeling the security of her brother's arms. But she had hastened to the toilet so that he wouldn't see how emotional she had become.

Now when she entered the living room, the loving scene made her hesitant to intrude in the private moment of her brother and sister in law. Fiza was sitting on one end of the large sofa and her legs were stretched across it. Shahbaz was sitting on the opposite end of the sofa and he was massaging her feet that were resting on his lap. He was whispering words with love shining in his eyes. She was smiling back with a blush creeping up her face.

Licking her bottom lip, she turned around leaving them alone. Walking to the kitchen window, she looked out bleakly at the bright sunny day. There was a time she had wondered how it would be to be the mother of Daud's children. She had envisioned he would take care of her and shower her with love and abundant affections. Shutting her eyes tightly until her eyes creased, she brushed away the disturbing thoughts. She should stop thinking about him. But he was never far away from her mind.

Desolately opening her eyes, she viewed the colourful flowerbed out at the front yard. She never thought of children with Salman. Neither had he spoken of them. With him, she was taking one day at a time. She didn't have any expectations from him to ever care for her when she would be pregnant. Knowing him, he would be driving her crazy even then.

The doorbell shrilled shattering her quiet thoughts. Thinking of him, her husband had decided to make his appearance.

She went to the cooker to heat the food and serve. She could hear the laughter booming from the living room as her brother enjoyed the company of her husband. It was time to forget the past and live in the present.

But it was hard.

It was impossible to forget those moments. And most of all forget him.

****

Salman took one bite of the lasagne, the soft pasta melted on his tongue with the well-seasoned sauce and cheese.

He smiled politely at Fiza, "This is really delicious."

"Well it's your wife who cooked the dinner today. She made me rest all day." Fiza glanced at Nawal and smiled with appreciation.

Salman's eyes widened, "You can cook?" he blurted out.

Nawal didn't bother to look at him and continued to chew her mouthful food.

"I guess miracles do happen," he chuckled.

Shahbaz joined Salman, "You have no faith in her cooking as well? I thought I was the only one."

Pressing her lips firmly, she bit back her tongue to stop herself from giving a sardonic retort.

He never appreciated her for who she was. And now he was resorting to mocking her and that too in front of others. As much as she tried Daud's words came back like vicious waves of the sea under the full moon.

"Nawal?"

"Nawal?" Fiza said loudly.

Nawal blinked several times, "Huh?"

Fiza snapped her fingers in front of Nawal's face, "What happened? You were lost in your thoughts."

Her eyelids lowered, "Nothing" she took another bite of the lasagne. No one knew how the memories were haunting her. Her appetite dying as she chewed.

****

That night, she lay awake staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts drifting back to Daud. Salman was busy on his phone, oblivious to the turmoil going within her. She closed her eyes and his smiling face at the stables came back. She hurriedly lifted her eyelids.

Why Allah?

Why doesn't he leave my mind?

This was eating up her soul. She was fighting a battle where she would lose at both ends. He was never meant to be hers. But why did Allah bless her with those moments with him. Those precious moments she lived and relived again and again every second of her day and night.

Salman's arm encircled her waist as he scooted beside her. His legs stretched against hers. His hand making patterns on her stomach over her t-shirt. His head resting on his raised arm, "What are you thinking?"

She turned her face to look at him. Her eyes scanned his facial features, his hooded black eyes, his arrogant pointed noise, his pale pink lips and his scruffy bearded chin. Would she ever learn to live happily with him? Would there be a time that she would dream of him? Think of him?

A heavy lock of hair slid down his forehead, her quivering fingers rose to brush it back, "Life. Just life."

"And what do you think of life?"

"You don't want to know." Her voice soft.

"Tell me."

She shook her head slowly, "Some things are best unsaid."

His eyes penetrated through hers as if he was reading the mysteries of her soul. But her secrets were locked inside her heart and only Daud held the keys to it.

Cupping the side of her face, "Tell me what you think. I want to know. Why do I feel there is a brick wall between us despite everything?"

Again Daud's face flashed in front of her, she closed her eyes to stop this agony, "Maybe because there is."

She hastily turned away from him, "Go to sleep. I am tired. Good night." But sleep was far away from her troubled eyes.

Bewildered Salman stared at her back. He exhaled hard, How will they break this wall?

But this brick wall was to turn to an unbreakable iron wall.

****

It was late afternoon, Nawal was sitting on the garden chairs at the backyard and chatting with Manal when Salman strolled in the sun.

Since last night, he had sensed the light in Nawal's eyes had dimmed. He wasn't able to point out what made her this way. He was going to suggest to go out for a while before the dinner at Fadil's place. Perhaps, that would lighten up her mood.

Manal glanced at her brother, "look Nawal, bhai is here. Ask him now and so we can leave."

"Ask me what?" he frowned.

"Nawal and I was thinking to go to the Indian store to get some new hijabs. She said she had to ask you first."

He nodded slowly, "Ok I will take you both."

Manal smiled and clapped her hands in anticipation, "Great" she turned to Nawal, "Let's get ready then."

Nawal smile was small and she nodded at Manal's enthusiasm.

In just a few minutes, they were in the car on the way to the store. Unlike the first time Manal had accompanied them, Manal was sitting at the backseat.

"So it seems you easily sat on your rightful place." Manal teased Nawal.

Nawal scowled, "What do you mean?"

Manal teasing smile grew, "Nothing."

Salman quietly smiled at his sister's playful jester.

All through the drive, Nawal had been silent staring ahead through the windshield. When they reached the store, Manal giddily rushed out of the car. When Nawal hand clutched the door handle, Salman held her other hand making her look at him inquisitively.

"Buy anything you want." He said looking carefully at her face.

"Don't worry I am not much into shopping."

His hand tightened around hers, "I mean it Nawal. There are no restrictions when it comes to you."

Her eyes rounded, "Think before you say. You will regret if you end up in debt because of my shopping list then."

"No I won't. I know for a fact my wife is considerate."

Her lips curled upwards, "For a change it's nice to hear you say something positive about me."

His forehead creased, "What do you mean by that?"

She shook her head faintly, "Let's go inside."

When the couple entered the small crammed shop that was selling all kinds of apparel and assortments of accessories from the Subcontinent, Manal was already standing next to the hijab rack and holding a bundle of hijabs. Her eyes brightened, "Look Nawal these are the ones I chose."

Smilingly, Nawal forgot her earlier resentments and started picking hijabs for herself.

The change in her disposition eased Salman's heart. His eyes aimlessly roamed around the shop when he saw the abbayas and jilbab hanging in one corner of the shop.

"Would you please show abbayas of my wife's size?" Salman asked the salesgirl.

His one query grabbed Nawal's attention and she stilled in taking out a hijab from the rack. She stared at him.

Their eyes clashed.

Clenching her teeth, why didn't he bother to ask me first, what I want to wear?