The Fawad Family

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© All character copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad.

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Requested by: raneemahmed123 who wanted to see Hania and Iman's lives as they grew up, along with their moments with their parents.

Written by: Starsandmoon1447

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AGES

Hania: 5

Iman: 3 

Jasmina: 31

Fawad: 37

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LONDON

Jasmina

When Iman started school, she wanted cake. It was her condition to go to school without a tantrum. My barely four-years-old child was already blackmailing her parents. 

Unfortunately, the day she started school, was also one of those days when Fawad was on a long shift, meaning that I had to deal with a crying and sobbing Mani, as well as a grumpy Hania, as my older daughter was not a morning person.

"Cake!" Mani crossed her arms over her chest, pouting and stamping her foot down.

"Mama, do my hair!" Hani screamed, running into my bedroom where I was trying to coax my younger daughter to get ready for school. Usually a calm kid, Hani was feeling jealous that her sister was getting the attention when it was meant to be her dress-up time for school.

I put my hands on my hips and took a deep breath. Ammi always says that people have it worse than us, and we should look at them when we are feeling really fed up. My Ammi herself had two sons, both very cheeky at a young age (according to her), and then I had joined the party. Her life was much, much tougher and she got through it, despite being a doctor as well. I'll get through it, In Sha Allah.

I had been looking forward to taking the girls to school and then having a nice, relaxing bath when I got back. The thought of the peace and quiet of my empty home for a few hours made me almost tear up. 

 "Okay." I held up both hands, as if trying to negotiate with a criminal. "Mani. Go to school, and I will make you your favourite dinner tonight." I turned to Hania. "And you, meri jaan, have a little patience. I'm Mama, not a robot." 

"What's a rotob?" Mani wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Something that I'm not." I replied, and crouching down, I held out my arms towards her. "Mani, come on. Please. Go to school." 

"Cake!" She shouted.

"Ya Allah, mujhe himmat de." I muttered, staring towards the ceiling.

*"Oh Allah, give me strength."

"Who wants cake so early in the morning?" My husband's warm voice came from the doorway.

"PAPA!" Both our girls screamed, seeing their beloved father walk in.  They both rushed towards him, but he help up a hand.

"No, jaans. You remember the rule? Papa needs to wash up and shower first." He gently reminded them.

"Assalam Alaikum." I said, straightening up. As usual, my heart skipped a beat as his eyes met mine. 

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