Chapter 28/Childhood sweetheart?

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A/N

I changed  Shehriyaar's name to Zayan. 

Okay, have fun reading!

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Haya

I groaned, stretching my arms above my head. 8:53am, was what the time on my phone read. And there was also a missed call from mom.

A pang of guilt shot through me. I knew mom is well aware of my marriage with Aarib, because she had texted me saying she was very happy for me and that she'd call me sometime. What made my heart heavy was that I hadn't been the best daughter ever, and I really missed her. She was still in Pakistan, and I wasn't sure when she'd be returning home.

My eyes flew up as Aarib emerged from the bathroom, rubbing a white towel in his drenched hair and closing the door behind him. He wore denim jeans and a simple, white shirt that fit his lean but slightly muscular body perfectly.

He noticed me sitting up and stopped in his tracks.

"Did I wake you up?"

I shook my head. "No, you didn't. I woke up five minutes ago."

He laughed softly. "Not too long then."

For some reason, I didn't have the energy to match his good mood, so I just half smiled.

"Hey," he mumbled, looking at me, and settled on the edge of the bed, one leg bent while the other stayed down. "I have to tell you something."

I groaned, dropping my head in my hands. My hair curtained around my hands. I just wanted to cry for some time and eat a whole bucket of ice cream.

Literally.

"You'll be happy to hear what I have to tell you."

"What is it?" I spoke in my hands, kind of worried it would be something to make me feel worse.

"We're going to Pakistan tomorrow, InshaAllah."

What?

"What?" It felt like I was missing a huge chunk of some information. "What do you mean we're going to Pakistan? We have a flight to turkey tomorrow."

He shrugged, smiling. "I cancelled them. Or well, they'll be cancelled. Instead we're going to Pakistan. Haya, I want to see you happy and I know you really want to see your cousin." He was talking as if it were no biggie.

"You cancelled two tickets!" I gasped. "What did you do. . ." I threw my head back on a loud groan, tears ready to burst forth like a stream. Running my hands through my messy locks, I fisted them midway and just. . .breathed.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

"This isn't the reaction I expected. I thought you'd be happy to go to Pakistan."

My heart dropped to my stomach as I heard the defeat in his voice—I cut my gaze to him and emotions clogged my throat, like, you know that feeling when you're about to cry and there's this stinging feeling in the back of your throat?

That's what I was feeling. Guess last night's crying session wasn't enough for me.

"Aarib," I whispered, guilt coiling around me. "I'm just worried about the tickets that are going to waste now," I explained, to which he locked eyes with me, looking all kinds of sad. "I'd love to visit Pakistan. Especially if you're gonna come be with me."

His eyes lit up like the 4th of July.

"Well," he said, lips curling upwards in a boyish smile. "We're not going alone. My friend's gonna come there, too. And about the tickets, I'll see if we can get a refund."

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