Mustafa was able to secure a favorable deal for his father's house, largely because the man Adeel had sold it to wanted nothing to do with the house after the news of Adeel's fraud came out in the papers. The man was eager to cut all ties and get rid of the property. Moreover, he had not altered or removed anything from the house, so all of Mustafa's parents' belongings remained exactly as they were.

When Mustafa broke the news to his parents, he did so calmly, but the emotional reaction from them was anything but. His father, already overwhelmed by the series of events in the past weeks, held his head in his hands and started crying. His mother, who had been sitting beside him, quickly joined in, her sobs echoing in the living room. Both of them stood and hugged Mustafa tightly, their gratitude, pride, and relief pouring out in waves.

Mustafa stood frozen at first, but as their sobs grew heavier, something inside him cracked. Years of hurt, resentment, and unspoken emotions surged to the surface, and before he knew it, he broke down too. He hugged his parents back, his own tears streaming unchecked. The once distant relationship now seemed to dissolve in the rawness of the moment.

From the corner of the room, Sharjeena stood silently, her hands clasped together, tears slipping down her cheeks. She watched the scene unfold with a mixture of emotions—pride in her husband's magnanimity, love for the man she had chosen to spend her life with, and deep emotion for the family that was slowly trying to heal itself. She felt overwhelmed but steady, her own strength rooted in the love she felt for Mustafa.

When the moment calmed and Mustafa's father could speak, he said, "Beta, yeh...yeh toh jitna hum soch bhi nahi sakte the, tumnein usase bhi zyada kar diya humaare liye. Humein tumpe bohot bohot zyada naaz hai, Mustafa. Bohot zyada. Tumhara yeh tohfa main kabhi bhi nahi bhulunga."

His mother added tearfully, "Jitna hum tumhaare maa baap banke tumhaare liye nahi kar paaye, usase zyada tumnein humari aulaad banke humaare liye kar diya. Tum humesha khush raho, Mustafa. Bohot bohot khush raho. Hum bhale hi achhe maa baap naa ban paaye kabhi, par tum is duniya ke sabse achhe bete ho."

They eventually expressed their desire to move back to their old house, unable to contain their longing to return to the place they had built with their own hands.

Mustafa opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Sharjeena stepped forward and said warmly, "Dono hi ghar aapke hain—yeh bhi aur voh bhi. Aapko jahaan accha lage, vahaan rahiye."

She smiled gently at them and added, "Lekin, agar ho sake toh yahaan kuch din aur ruk jaayein. Hum dono yahaan naye ghar mein ek chhoti si party plan kar rahe hain. Aapki maujudgi usme bohot zaroori hai."

His parents, visibly touched by her words and her acceptance of them despite everything, nodded enthusiastically. "Haan, zarur, beta," his mother said. "Hum tumhaari khushi mein zarur shaamil honge."

Mustafa turned to look at Sharjeena, his eyes glistening with a gratitude that words couldn't convey. She gave him a soft smile, silently reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. At that moment, he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—with strength, love, and unyielding support.

Over the next few days, Sharjeena and Mustafa were deep into planning their party. Though they had intended for it to be an intimate affair, their guest list grew longer than they'd expected. Mustafa invited his family, his close friends Ahmed, Ali, and Osama, his partner Danish, his colleagues and employees, and a few more friends. Meanwhile, Sharjeena invited her family, including her sister Yumna's family, her colleagues, her boss, and some of her close college friends.

The party was planned for Saturday, and Friday marked Sharjeena's last working day before her maternity leave. Her office friends had been insisting she come in for the day, despite her ability to work from home. They cited handover work and a few in-person meetings, which they claimed would be more efficient if done face-to-face. What Sharjeena didn't know was that her colleagues were planning a surprise farewell party for her.

That morning, as she got ready for work, Mustafa hovered around her like a protective shadow. She noticed his concerned expression as he watched her get ready, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Mustafa, main theek hoon. Stop fussing," she said as she adjusted her dupatta in the mirror.

"I know, par phir bhi mujhe tension ho rahi hai tumhein office jaata dekh ke is condition mein. Tum apne last day par bhi toh work from home kar sakti thi naa, abhi kya zarurat thi office jaake thakne ki jab tum inti zyada pregnant ho is time?" he asked, arms crossed.

"Mustafa, sirf aaj aaj ki hi toh baat hai. Aaj mera last day hai and I want to wrap everything up properly," she said, walking toward him. "And yeh "itni zyada pregnant" kya hota hai? Yeh kaunsa measuring unit hai?" She said lightly tapping his forehead.

He looked at her and dramatically waved his hands, "Arey, matlab tum samajh gayi naa main kya kehna chaah raha hoon." He then sighed deeply and said, "Chalo fine, but promise karo ki free hote hi mujhe phone karogi, main tumhein lene aa jaaunga."

She laughed and said, "Nahi, Mustafa, Main apne aap aa jaaungi. Tumhaare paas abhi vaise hi itna kaam hai office mein, and our timings might not match."

"Bilkul nahi," he said firmly. "Voh meri problem hai aur main manage kar lunga. Aur akele aane ki toh sochna bhi mat. Tum mere honey waale bacche ki maa ho, meri maa. Tum itni der vahaan rahogi mere bina, kaam karogi, yahi soch ke tension ho rahi hai. Faaltu aur tension mat do mujhe."

She rolled her eyes playfully and teased, "Tum naa din-par-din paagal hotey jaa rahe ho. Dekh rahi hoon kitna zyada over protective ho rahe ho aajkal. Agar aise hi chalta raha na toh I am sure ki pretty soon, you'll have me bubble-wrapped."

"Not a bad idea," he muttered with a small grin.

They left the house after saying goodbye to his parents, and Mustafa drove her to work. When they arrived at her office building, she opened the car door, but before she could get out, Mustafa was already by her side, picking up her bags.

"Mustafa, really? Main khud utha sakti hoon apna bag," she protested, laughing.

"Nope," he said, walking beside her toward the entrance.

Once they reached the door, Mustafa handed her bags to one of the building guards and instructed him to escort her to her desk.

"Mujhe free hote hi call karna. Bhoolna nahi," he reminded her for the third time.

"Tum paagal ho chuke ho. Jaao yahaan se, jaake apni games banaao, aur mujhe yahaan reports banaane do," she teased, shaking her head.

Mustafa smiled at her, a little reluctant to leave, but finally turned and walked back to the car. As he drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror, watching her walk into the building. I'm so lucky, he thought to himself, his heart swelling with affection.

As soon as Sharjeena entered her office, she was greeted by her fully decorated desk. A mix of pastel-colored balloons, ribbons, and tiny cutouts and greeting cards adorned her workspace. Her heart swelled with emotion as she smiled at the sight.

Meher, her closest friend at work, hugged her from behind. "Look at you. Isey kehte hain asli pregnancy glow!" she exclaimed, beaming. Sara and a few other teammates joined in with cheerful hugs and congratulations.

Just then, Rehan walked in, his warm smile spreading across his face. "Aap aa gaye, finally," he said. "Aapke bina office kitna adhoora lag raha tha, Sharjeena. We've all missed you."

Touched by their kind words, Sharjeena smiled and said, "Tum log abhi se mujhe itna emotional kar rahe ho! Thank you so much for this."

Before she could settle in, they pulled her toward the cafeteria. "Kya hua?" she asked curiously.

"Pata chal jaayega!" Meher said with a sly smile, leading her through the hallway.

As she stepped inside the cafeteria, her eyes widened in surprise. It was decorated beautifully with banners, fairy lights, and posters reading "Mom-to-be," "Baby on Board," and "We'll Miss You." A cake stood at the center of the table, surrounded by gifts wrapped in colorful paper.

Her colleagues clapped as she walked in, and tears brimmed in her eyes. "You guys didn't have to do all this," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"Yes, we did!" Meher said. "You've been such a great mentor and friend. Tumhein aise bina ek proper farewell ke kaise jaane dete!"

They handed her a knife to cut the cake, and she giggled at the tiny plastic figurine of a baby on top. She blew out the candles and cut the cake as everyone cheered. They handed her gifts, each more thoughtful than the last—baby essentials, personalized keepsakes, and even a book on motherhood.

"Samajh nahi aa raha kaise thank you boloon tum sabko," Sharjeena said, her heart brimming with gratitude.

After the celebrations, she quickly wrapped up her handover tasks, had a few final meetings, and gave Rehan a mock-serious warning: "Make sure mere peechhe se company band naa karwa dena, theek hai?"

Rehan laughed. "Poori koshish karunga, boss."

She ended her day with a warm meeting with her boss, reminding him about the party tomorrow at her home.

Just as she was about to call Mustafa to pick her up, her friends insisted on going out for lunch. After some hesitation, she gave in, thinking it might be her last outing with them for a long time. She texted Mustafa: Pick me up from Savoury Spoon restaurant in two hours.

His reply came almost instantly: What? Why? Aren't you at the office?

She smiled and replied: Going out with friends. I'll see you there.

Two hours later, Mustafa parked his car outside the restaurant. As he stepped inside, his eyes immediately found her. She was sitting with her friends, laughing loudly at something Meher had said, her face glowing with happiness. For a moment, he stood still, gazing at her from afar, his heart full of love but also a tiny twinge of protectiveness tugging at him.

When she spotted him, she waved enthusiastically. He smiled and walked over.

"Mustafa!" she said, beaming.

He greeted Meher and Sara with a polite smile and exchanged a curt nod with Rehan, who returned it politely, and they all chatted briefly.

"Humein ab chalna chahiye," Sharjeena said after a while, sensing Mustafa's growing discomfort.

Before they left, Mustafa reminded her friends about the party tomorrow, to which Sara excitedly said, "We wouldn't miss it for the world!"

As they walked to the car, Sharjeena asked Sara for the keys to her car, where her friends had stored the gifts from earlier. Mustafa raised his eyebrows when he saw the number of bags they retrieved.

"Aisa kya de diya tumhein logon ne, pura ek baby store?" he joked, placing the bags carefully in the trunk.

"Voh sab kaafi thoughtful hain," she said with a proud smile as they drove off.

On the way home, she recounted the entire surprise party to Mustafa, her voice filled with joy. He listened intently, smiling at her happiness, but she couldn't miss the slight irritation on his face.

"Kya hua?" she asked, playfully nudging him.

"Kuch nahi," he said, his tone nonchalant. "Bas aise tumhaara baahar ghoomna is condition mein thoda unsafe lagta hai. Dhoop dekho kitni tez hai! Main hota hoon saath ya phir koi ghar ka insaan toh phir bhi theek hai." He then looked at her, his voice softening, "Main tumhein control karne ki try nahi kar raha, Sharjeena! Meri baat galat sense mein mat lo. Mujhe bas aajkal fiqar rehti hai tumhaari."

She smiled knowingly, recognizing the hint of overprotective jealousy behind his words. "Aw, Mustafa. Tum possessive hote hue bhi kitne cute lagte ho naa? Chalo, main har kadam lene se pehle tumhein inform kar dungi ab se, ki Mustafa, maine ek aur kadam chala hai, aur main salaamat hoon, theek hai naa?"

He glanced at her, flustered but amused. "Tum paagal ho gayi ho."

She leaned back in her seat, enjoying the moment. "Ab kya karu, tum itne cute jo lagte ho meri fikar karte hue, pata bhi hai tumhein?"

He rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Bohot mazaa aata hai naa mujhe chheddne mein?"

"Bohot," she said, her laughter filling the car as they drove home.

The decorators had transformed the house into a magical setting, seamlessly blending the back and front spaces into one expansive area. The light pastel decorations, complemented by fairy lights and fresh flowers, gave their home a contemporary yet cozy vibe. The menu, a thoughtful mix of desi and continental dishes, was carefully planned to cater to the diverse crowd expected that evening.

Despite all the excitement, the day was filled with constant bantering between Mustafa and Sharjeena. Mustafa, overly protective as ever, was adamant that she stay away from chores and relax. Around noon, while she was instructing the maid to shift the sofas a bit to create more space, Mustafa intervened firmly.

"Bas ho gaya ab," he said, crossing his arms. "Tum jaake tayyar ho."

She glanced at the clock. "Abhi toh bohot time hai."

"Haan," Mustafa countered, "aur main chaahta hoon ki tum aaram se thodi der relax karke acche se time laga ke tayaar ho, naa ki apna time furniture arrange karne mein bitaao."

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "Tum naa ab mere sarr pe chadhne lag gaye ho," and left the living room. But secretly, she obliged, knowing he wouldn't relent.

In the bathroom, she drew herself a relaxing bath, letting the warm water soothe her body and mind. Afterward, she picked out the red floor-length anarkali that she and Mustafa had chosen last week. She smiled, remembering the moment Mustafa had told her that red made her look like a rose herself.

She had raised her eyebrows at him. "Tumne ye achaanak se kahaan se seekhe aise compliments? Tumko toh aisi smooth baatein karni hi nahi aati thein."

Mustafa had immediately turned red, blushing more than her, and pretended to examine the fabric of a shawl on a nearby rack. The memory made her laugh softly as she adjusted the outfit over her growing belly and admired herself in the mirror.

Pregnancy had never made her feel self-conscious, a confidence Mustafa played a huge part in fostering. Whether she was dressed to the nines or lounging in his oversized t-shirts, with messy hair and no makeup, he always looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

She took her time doing her hair, adding soft waves, and applied her makeup carefully. As she slipped on her bangles and fastened the diamond earrings Mustafa had gifted her, she heard him enter the room.

Mustafa stopped in his tracks, his gaze locking on her as if the world had paused. His dark eyes softened, holding emotions that words could never express.

"Pyaari lag rahi ho," he said shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling knowingly as she motioned for him to fasten her necklace.

Mustafa stepped closer, carefully placing the necklace around her neck. His hands brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. As he secured the clasp, his fingers lingered for a moment before he stepped back, admiring her.

"Ab tum bhi tayyar ho jaao," she said, gently nudging him.

Mustafa nodded, heading to the dressing room to change. He picked out his tailored trousers, a crisp shirt, and a blazer. Over the past months, his style had evolved—his once unkempt hair, oversized clothes, and rugged beard were replaced with a polished, groomed look. Although she missed his carefree appearance, she understood the intention behind this transformation. He was running a successful company now and had to present himself accordingly.

As he returned, impeccably dressed, he glanced at her through the mirror.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone filled with warmth.

She nodded, slipping her hand into his outstretched arm. Together, they stepped out of the room, looking every bit the picture of elegance and partnership. As they descended the stairs into their beautifully decorated home, the sound of laughter and music already beginning to fill the air, they both felt a shared pride in the life they had built and the celebration they were about to host.

Sharjeena's family arrived first, bringing warmth and excitement into the house. Her parents greeted her and Mustafa with heartfelt hugs, their faces glowing with pride and joy. Rameen, ever the ball of energy, excitedly ran her eyes over the decor and beamed. "Oh wow, Appi! Aap kitni pyaari lag rahi ho, aur aapka ghar toh ekdum ek Pinterest board jaisa hai!"

Sharjeena laughed, thanking her sister while sneaking a glance at Mustafa, who looked equally proud. Her parents then moved to greet Mustafa's parents, who were seated on the sofa. They exchanged pleasantries, but the air between them held a hint of awkwardness. Mustafa's mother, noticeably subdued, looked as though she wanted to say something, but the timing didn't feel right.

Shortly after, Sidra and Waqas arrived, accompanied by their cheerful toddler, Hamza, and Waqas's mother. Their presence lightened the atmosphere further as everyone exchanged greetings and well wishes. Gradually, the house began filling with friends, colleagues, and other loved ones, each bringing thoughtful gifts and heartfelt congratulations on the couple's new home and the upcoming arrival of their baby.

Mustafa and Sharjeena moved through the crowd, making introductions with their characteristic warmth. While Mustafa handled things with grace, Sharjeena noticed Ali, Ahmed, and Osama—Mustafa's childhood friends—lingering on the sidelines, looking a bit out of place among the more polished crowd of his current circle. She gently nudged Mustafa, whispering, "Tumhaare puraane dost shayad thoda left out feel kar rahe hain. Jaao unse baat karo."

Mustafa nodded, crossing the room to greet them. "Tum log theek ho?" he asked casually.

"Haan bhaai," Ahmed said, though his uneasy smile gave him away.

Sensing their discomfort, Mustafa quickly introduced them to his colleagues and new friends, ensuring they felt included. Before long, laughter and chatter flowed between the old and new groups, and Mustafa felt relieved to see everyone mingling so effortlessly.

Just then, Danish arrived. Mustafa immediately called Sharjeena over and introduced her.

"Sharjeena, yeh Danish hai," Mustafa said, smiling. "The man who believed in me when no one else did."

Danish greeted her with genuine warmth. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you, Sharjeena. Mustafa never stops talking about you, and from everything I've heard, it's clear you're the backbone of his success."

Sharjeena smiled graciously. "Thank you. But I think it's your partnership that's given Mustafa the opportunity to shine. We both appreciate your faith in him."

Danish chuckled. "He's made it clear more than once that you're the real deal. I've tried convincing him to bring you on board with us so many times."

Mustafa, rolling his eyes, patted Danish on the back. "Yaar phir se shuru mat kar."

The three laughed, and Danish excused himself to greet some other guests.

Soon, Meher, Sara, and Rehan arrived. Seeing them, Sharjeena grinned and teased, "Finally! Tum teeno ek saath kaise? Carpool karke aaye ho? Aur itna late kyun?"

"Blame the traffic," Sara said, pulling her into a hug.

"And the fact that someone forgot the gift," Meher added,