Epilogue

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The epilogue is up, you guys! I can't believe I made it till here. Now, a question for all you readers.

 Do you want to know who told Murad about Momina and Humdaan? Comment and vote for a 'yes'. But, if you are happy with how the story ended, then stay the silent reader you are ;)

Just kidding! Don't take the last part seriously. I want all the votes. 

Also, head over to the author's note, for an exciting announcement.

Third Person's P.O.V

"Muhammad get back here." Called Momina. 

"No!" The little boy squealed walking faster than he was supposed to with his chubby little feet, as he saw his mom, chasing after him, holding his slacks in her hand.

He ran into something, and almost tripped on his feet, when a pair of large hands caught him, just before he hit the floor. The 3-year-old looked at the man and exclaimed "Daddy!" before wrapping his arms around Murad's neck and resting his head on his chest.

"Who is my son running from? And where are your pants?" He faked a gasp, looking at his bare legs.

"Mommy." He smiles, flashing his dimples, and pointed towards Momina.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, closing the gap between them. "Now, I am going to eat your legs and bite your cheeks. Ha ha ha." She laughed like a monster, scaring the poor kid. He screamed, hiding in the crook of Murad's neck.

"Muhammad! Wear your pants and she won't eat you." He told him. He nodded fervently, as Momina pulled up the slacks and did the button.

"No, eat?" He asked, innocently.

"Yes eat!" She said and pulled his cheeks before kissing him there.

"Where we goin'?" Muhammad asked, pinching Momina's cheeks, just like she pulled his.

"No where important."

Momina rolled her eyes, at Murad's response. It's been so many years, yet his insecurities remain intact.

"To Unkey!"

"Unkey!" He squealed, clapping his hands together, in excitement, kicking his legs, signaling Murad to place him back on the floor.

As soon as he placed Muhammad back on the floor, Momina turned to him, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? I still don't want to go!" He whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's been so many years, Murad. What is wrong with you? Why can't you be normal with him?" She asked, fixing his red tie that perfectly matched with the color of her saree.

"Well, I can if he doesn't have to be so clingy." He reasoned.

Momina sighed, dropping her hands. "He won't do it anymore. He's getting married, today."

"Thank goodness for that." He raised his hands toward the sky, thanking Allah.

"If you are done, then let's go. We are getting late!" Saying that she turned to get her bag.

"Muhammad let's go!" She called him, who came running towards his mother. He raised his hands for her to take him in her arms.

"No, Muhammad. You have to walk. I can't lift you and not fall flat on my face with you in my arms."

He frowned, pinching his brows together, and blinked his eyes, rapidly.

"Uh-huh. Not happening. Let's go." She stretched her hand, so he could take it. But Muhammad being Muhammad was extremely stubborn just like his mom.

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