Two Lines
Chapter 50 – Two Lines
Belle had always thought big life changes would announce themselves with noise.
A phone call.
A scream.
A dramatic scene.
But the first sign of the next chapter arrived in silence.
A quiet nausea that didn’t match the food.
A tiredness that slept through alarms.
A tenderness in her chest that made her flinch when Aleem hugged her from behind.
She blamed the wedding.
The stress.
The emotional marathon.
The sudden shift from “planning” to “done.”
But the body had its own honesty.
And one morning, when the calendar said nothing special,
Belle stared at the small white stick on their bathroom counter.
Two lines.
Not thick.
Not dramatic.
Just two lines.
A quiet confirmation.
A sentence without sound.
Belle’s hands shook so badly she had to grip the sink.
Her throat closed.
Her eyes burned.
And the first thing she felt wasn’t joy.
It was fear.
Not of the baby.
Of the world.
Of families.
Of expectations.
Of whether she was ready to carry something this precious without breaking.
She stared at the two lines.
Then she whispered,
“Okay.”
Not because she was calm.
Because she needed a word to hold onto.
Aleem was still asleep.
His breathing steady.
One arm flung over his pillow.
Belle stood at the edge of the bed holding the test like it was fragile glass.
Her heart pounded.
She wanted to wake him.
She also wanted to freeze time.
Because once she told him,
life would move.
Messages.
Appointments.
Families.
Plans.
People.
Belle’s throat tightened.
She climbed onto the bed carefully.
She sat on the edge.
She stared at Aleem.
She thought of him in the nikah room.
Steady.
Clear.
Taking responsibility like it wasn’t romantic, it was sacred.
And suddenly, Belle’s fear softened.
Not gone.
Just held.
Belle reached out.
She touched his shoulder gently.
“Aleem,” she whispered.
Aleem stirred.
His eyes opened slowly.
Sleepy.
Soft.
Then he registered her face.
Immediately, his expression sharpened.
“Belle?” he asked, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”
Belle’s throat closed.
She shook her head.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she whispered.
Aleem’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s not a nothing face,” he said.
Belle laughed weakly.
Her eyes filled.
Aleem’s hand reached for her wrist.
“Talk to me,” he said.
Belle inhaled.
Then she held out the test.
Aleem froze.
He stared at it.
His gaze flicked to her face.
Then back to the test.
His jaw tightened.
“Is that…?” he began.
Belle nodded.
Two lines.
Aleem didn’t move for a long moment.
Belle’s heart pounded.
She thought:
Maybe he’s scared.
Maybe he’s overwhelmed.
Maybe this is too soon.
Then Aleem’s throat moved.
He exhaled.
And his voice came out rough.
“Alhamdulillah,” he whispered.
Belle’s eyes burned.
Aleem’s hand lifted–
not to take the test.
To cup Belle’s cheek.
His palm was warm.
Steady.
He stared at her like she was the only thing in the world.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Belle laughed through tears.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m scared.”
Aleem nodded.
“That’s okay,” he said.
Belle’s throat tightened.
Aleem’s voice was quiet.
“We don’t need to be fearless,” he said. “We just need to be sincere.”
Sincere.
Belle nodded.
Aleem’s eyes softened.
“Come here,” he murmured.
Belle leaned into him.
His arms wrapped around her.
Proper.
Not crushing.
Just holding.
Aleem’s breathing shook once.
Belle felt it.
She pulled back slightly.
“Aleem?”
Aleem’s eyes were wet.
He blinked fast.
“I’m okay,” he said, voice thick.
Belle’s chest cracked.
“You’re crying,” Belle whispered.
Aleem looked offended.
“I’m not crying,” he muttered.
Belle laughed.
“You are,” she whispered.
Aleem exhaled.
“Okay,” he admitted quietly.
Belle’s eyes burned.
“Okay,” she whispered back.
They sat on the bed for a long time.
No speeches.
Just breaths.
Aleem held her hand.
Belle stared at the test on the bedside table.
Two lines.
A tiny thing that had rearranged their future.
Aleem finally spoke.
“We should confirm with a doctor,” he said.
Belle nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Aleem paused.
“Do you want to tell our parents now?” he asked.
Belle’s stomach tightened.
Our parents.
One sentence.
Two families.
Belle swallowed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I… I want to. But I’m scared.”
Aleem nodded.
“Of what?” he asked gently.
Belle’s eyes stung.
“Of being swallowed,” Belle whispered. “Of everyone taking over. Of… of making my parents cry again. Of Mak worrying again. Of everything becoming… big.”
Aleem’s gaze softened.
He squeezed her hand.
“We set boundaries,” he said. “The same way we did before.”
Belle exhaled.
“Properly?” she murmured.
Aleem’s mouth twitched.
“Properly,” he echoed.
Belle swallowed.
“And… when do we tell?”
Aleem considered.
“After doctor confirmation,” he said. “And we tell them together. In person.”
Belle nodded.
Okay.
Together.
In person.
No messages.
No chaos.
Belle whispered,
“Okay.”
Aleem nodded.
“Okay.”
The doctor confirmed it.
Yes.
Pregnant.
Early.
Healthy so far.
Belle listened to the nurse explain vitamins.
Appointments.
Foods to avoid.
Aleem asked calm questions.
Not emotional.
Practical.
But Belle saw how his fingers kept brushing her hand.
As if he needed to confirm she was real.
When they left the clinic, Aleem looked at Belle.
His voice was quiet.
“Ready?” he asked.
Belle’s stomach tightened.
Ready.
She wasn’t.
But she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Because readiness wasn’t a feeling.
It was a decision.
They told Belle’s parents first.
Not because Aleem’s parents mattered less.
Because Belle’s parents had carried the deepest fear.
The fear of losing her.
And Belle wanted them to know:
This new life wasn’t erasing them.
It was extending them.
They went to her parents’ place on their Sunday.
Fruit in hand.
No big bag.
No dramatic setup.
Belle’s mother opened the door.
“Eh, why you two come?” her mother asked. “Not your Sunday?”
Belle smiled weakly.
“Special,” Belle said.
Her mother’s eyes sharpened.
“Special what?”
Belle’s father appeared behind her mother.
He looked at Belle’s face.
He immediately frowned.
“You sick?” her father asked.
Belle laughed weakly.
“No,” she whispered.
Aleem greeted.
“Uncle. Aunty.”
Belle’s father nodded.
“Aleem.”
Belle’s mother ushered them in.
“Sit,” her mother ordered.
They sat at the dining table.
The same table where Belle had once sat, broken, unable to eat.
Now she sat with a secret that felt like sunlight.
Her hands trembled.
Belle’s mother noticed.
“What is it?” her mother demanded, voice already worried.
Belle inhaled.
She looked at Aleem.
Aleem nodded.
Steady.
Belle looked at her parents.
She placed the ultrasound printout on the table.
Her mother blinked.
Her father stared.
Then her mother leaned forward.
“What is this?” her mother asked slowly.
Belle’s voice shook.
“Two lines,” Belle whispered. “And now… this.”
Her mother’s face changed.
Confusion.
Realisation.
Shock.
Then her mother’s hand flew to her mouth.
Her eyes filled instantly.
Belle’s father didn’t move.
He stared at the printout.
As if it was not a picture.
As if it was a door.
Belle’s mother whispered,
“Pregnant?”
Belle nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Belle’s mother made a sound–half laugh, half sob.
“Oh my God,” her mother whispered.
Belle’s throat tightened.
Her mother stood abruptly.
She walked around the table.
She hugged Belle.
Tight.
Shaking.
Like she was trying to hold Belle and the future at the same time.
Belle’s mother cried.
“I’m so happy,” her mother whispered. “I’m so scared. I’m so happy.”
Belle laughed through tears.
“It’s okay,” Belle whispered.
Her mother shook her head.
“No, not okay,” her mother sniffed. “It’s… it’s big.”
Big.
Belle’s father still hadn’t spoken.
Belle’s stomach dropped.
She pulled away from her mother.
She looked at her father.
“Dad?” Belle whispered.
Her father’s jaw was tight.
His eyes shimmered.
He blinked fast.
Then he cleared his throat.
He looked at Aleem.
His voice came out rough.
“You… you did it already,” her father said.
Belle froze.
Aleem blinked.
“Yes, Uncle,” Aleem replied gently.
Belle’s father stared.
He looked back at the printout.
Then he said, like it cost him everything,
“Okay.”
Not calm.
Not neutral.
Okay, like he was swallowing fear and releasing blessing at the same time.
Belle’s chest cracked.
Her father continued, voice thick,
“Take care of her,” he said. “Now she is not only… my daughter. She is… mother.”
Belle’s throat closed.
Aleem nodded.
“I will,” Aleem said.
Belle’s father’s throat moved.
He nodded once.
Then he looked at Belle.
His eyes were wet.
And for the first time since the nikah, he stepped forward and hugged her.
Not long.
Not soft.
A brief, tight grip.
A father’s way of saying:
I’m here.
Belle sobbed.
Her father patted her back once.
Then he pulled away quickly.
“Okay,” he muttered again.
Belle laughed through tears.
“Okay,” she whispered.
They told Aleem’s parents the next evening.
Mak opened the door with suspicion.
“Why you come?” Mak asked immediately. “Is it bad news?”
Belle’s throat tightened.
“No,” Belle whispered.
Mak narrowed her eyes.
“Then why your face like going to cry?”
Belle laughed weakly.
Aleem greeted.
“Mak. Ayah.”
Ayah smiled warmly.
“Come in,” Ayah said.
They sat.
Mak sat opposite them.
Arms crossed.
Ready.
Ayah sat beside Mak, calm.
Aleem placed the ultrasound printout on the table.
Mak stared.
“What is this?” Mak asked.
Aleem’s voice was steady.
“Belle is pregnant,” he said.
Mak froze.
Belle held her breath.
Mak’s eyes widened.
Then Mak’s face changed.
Shock.
Then something softer.
Then tears, fast and angry.
“Aiyo,” Mak muttered, voice breaking. “Why you tell like that? So straight.”
Aleem blinked.
“How else?” he asked quietly.
Mak slapped the table lightly.
“Gentle lah!” Mak snapped.
Belle laughed through tears.
Ayah’s eyes softened.
He smiled.
“Alhamdulillah,” Ayah whispered.
Mak’s lips trembled.
“Alhamdulillah,” Mak echoed, but it came out like a sob.
Belle’s throat tightened.
Mak stood abruptly.
She walked around the table.
She hugged Aleem.
Hard.
Then she hugged Belle.
Hard.
Like she was trying to protect the baby with force.
Mak pulled back.
Her eyes were wet.
“You must eat,” Mak ordered immediately.
Belle blinked.
“Yes, Mak,” Belle whispered.
Mak pointed at Aleem.
“You must not stress her,” Mak snapped.
Aleem nodded.
“Yes, Mak.”
Mak sniffed.
“And no lifting heavy,” Mak added.
Belle nodded.
“Okay.”
Mak’s eyes narrowed.
“Okay,” Mak muttered.
Ayah’s voice was gentle.
“Congratulations,” Ayah said. “Both of you.”
Aleem’s throat tightened.
“Thank you, Ayah,” Aleem replied.
Mak sat back down, still crying.
“I’m happy,” Mak muttered, angry at her own tears. “But scared.”
Belle’s chest tightened.
“Yes,” Belle whispered. “Me too.”
Mak stared at her.
Then Mak nodded.
“That’s okay,” Mak said gruffly. “We all scared. But we do proper.”
Proper.
Belle’s throat tightened.
“Yes,” Belle whispered. “Proper.”
When they left Aleem’s parents’ place, Belle’s phone buzzed.
A message from Crystal.
ARE YOU ALIVE?
Belle laughed.
Ivan’s message followed.
You free tonight? Need to pass you something.
Belle blinked.
“ABIX,” Belle murmured.
Aleem’s mouth twitched.
“We tell them next,” Aleem said.
Belle nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Because ABIX had earned it.
They weren’t background.
They were the people who had held Belle up when she couldn’t stand.
They deserved to know the next mercy.
ABIX came over with bubble tea.
Crystal was vibrating.
Ivan was calm.
Belle placed the ultrasound on the table.
Crystal screamed.
Ivan blinked.
Then Ivan said,
“Okay.”
Crystal turned.
“STOP SAYING OKAY!” Crystal shrieked.
Ivan stared.
“It’s appropriate,” Ivan replied.
Crystal cried harder.
Belle laughed until she cried.
Aleem watched them.
His eyes soft.
A man who had once been steady for Belle now watching the people who had been steady too.
Crystal hugged Belle and refused to let go.
“I’m going to be auntie,” Crystal sobbed.
Ivan nodded.
“Yes,” Ivan said. “We are auntie and uncle.”
Crystal glared.
“YOU ARE UNCLE,” Crystal snapped. “I am AUNTIE.”
Ivan blinked.
“Okay,” Ivan said.
Crystal screamed again.
That night, after everyone left, Belle lay on the sofa with her head in Aleem’s lap.
It wasn’t romantic.
It was domestic.
Soft.
Blessed ordinary.
Aleem’s hand rested on Belle’s hair.
Belle stared at the ceiling.
“I’m scared,” Belle whispered.
Aleem’s voice was quiet.
“I know,” he said.
Belle swallowed.
“But… everyone looked happy,” Belle murmured.
Aleem nodded.
“They are,” he said. “Because this… this seals the integration.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
“Seals?”
Aleem’s gaze softened.
“Yes,” he said. “Now they can’t pretend we are temporary. We are family. Properly.”
Belle’s eyes burned.
Two lines.
A tiny mercy.
A quiet confirmation that turned fear into belonging.
Belle whispered,
“Okay.”
Aleem’s thumb brushed her temple.
“Okay,” he replied.
Belle turned her face slightly.
She looked up at him.
His expression was steady.
But soft.
She whispered,
“Thank you for staying.”
Aleem’s jaw tightened.
He looked away for a moment.
Then he looked back.
His voice was low.
“I stayed without taking,” he murmured.
Belle’s throat closed.
And in the quiet, Belle realised the ending of their story was not fireworks.
It was this.
A man’s thigh beneath her head.
A hand in her hair.
Two families texting each other recipes.
A father who hugged her once and called it enough.
A mother who cried and still cooked.
A friend who screamed and still showed up.
Two lines that turned into a future.
Blessed ordinary.
Proper.
Okay.