Aftermath of Zero Sleep and Too Many Feelings

Ladies, gentlemen, and chaos-loving bookworms, WE. HAVE. MADE. IT. 🎉

Do you know what it feels like to pour your soul into a story, to sacrifice sleep, sanity, and basic human needs because you're too obsessed with your own characters? DO YOU?! Because that's exactly what happened here.

Two nights. TWO. WHOLE. NIGHTS. No sleep. Just me, my laptop, and the absolute menace that is Major Hafiz Muhammad Zavian Noraiz haunting my every thought. I swear, at one point, I could hear his voice in my head telling me to "focus, Mashal-e-Mehtaab," and that's how I powered through.

And let me tell you—IT. WAS. WORTH. IT.

This man? This standard of a human? This walking, talking, brooding, gun-slinging, Quran-reciting masterpiece of a husband? He has officially ruined all fictional and real men for me. Zavian is the blueprint. The gold standard. The final boss. If he's not making dua for you in Tahajjud, carrying your child in one arm and a gun in the other, AND planning surprise Umrah trips—why bother?

And let's not forget my girl, Iman—our queen, our survivor, our warrior in her own right. From facing the worst to finding love, strength, and a whole lot of well-deserved peace, she's the heart of this story, and honestly? She earned every bit of her happy ending.

To the readers who stuck around till the end, who screamed with me in the comments, who gasped at the twists, who swooned at Zavian's every word—I SEE YOU. I LOVE YOU. THIS WAS FOR YOU. 💖

Now, if you'll excuse me, I will be passing out for the next century. Wake me up when someone invents a real-life Zavian. 😭🔥

Oh, do you smell that? That intoxicating mix of impending drama, childhood rivalries, and the slow, agonizing realization that Ruaan and Ghazal are growing up.

Yep. Our soon-to-be adults. The next generation. The legacy of chaos and love continues.

Ghazal, our fierce little warrior, the one who once sobbed dramatically over stolen chocolates, now rolling her eyes at Ruaan in the most poetic, irritated way possible. And Ruaan? Oh, he thinks he's smooth, that smirk far too reminiscent of his father, Ali—but Ghazal? She sees right through it.

The tea is brewing. The storm is forming. The 'I hate you' phase is already in motion. And we all know what that means in the grand scheme of fate and storytelling.

Stay tuned, my loves. Because the next book? Oh, it's going to be delicious. 😏🔥

Until next time, my loves! Your sleep-deprived but emotionally fulfilled author, Warda aka novespacio 💕