Come tempestuous one, and let me
calm the storm in your eyes.
  Even though we set sail on
  a sea of treacherous tides,
     You are the anchor that
     quiets my soul.
                       - Ariana
          _________________________________________________________________

I am sprawled on the couch my phone balanced on my chest as I mindlessly respond to Eliza's texts. She texts excitedly about an upcoming party and I respond occasionally. I stop and look up when Maaz sits on the adjacent couch. His uneasy expression makes me put my phone away.

He laces his fingers together in front of him and stares at his feet. He runs his hand through his hair, looks up at me, exhales and then looks at his feet again. Since I had become sick, Maaz has been strange around me. I feel he is holding back something from me. Not that he tells me everything, but that he wants to tell me something and yet he doesn't.

'Zara?' He says after what seems like eternity.

'Yes?' I play along.

'I need you to apply for a name change.' He says in a single breath, finally looking at me.

'My name?' I say aloud. This was totally unexpected. My name, Zara Numair, the one thing I had refused to give up when I had gotten married to him. As always, my mind clouds over when it comes to him. My eyes flutter close, I see his soft hair curling over the curves of his ears, eyes crinkled in amusement always dancing with happiness. Or maybe it was only when he was looking at me, I wonder. Numair.

Maaz is silent, his fingers flip a pencil over his knuckles from one corner to the other.

'Why would I do that?' I say almost to myself, 'Why would I give up one more thing that binds me to him?'

He shifts to me, kneels down in front of me, clasping my hands in his, the pencil now abandoned. 'Because you are my wife now. And perhaps our relation is only as such on papers but still don't you think it is strange for my wife to have another man's name?'

'Don't use the words my wife again.' I say, my teeth gritted. My head spins, I snatch my hands from his grasp. He bows his head not quite looking at me.

'You said it didn't matter two months ago, when we got married. What has changed now?' I push him away as I stand up from the couch and his knees give way and he sits on the rug, not raising his head. His hair fall over his forehead, his shoulders are taut.

'Nothing... everything.' He mumbles softly.

I grab my car keys, a lesson learnt from the last time I had stalked out in anger.

'Learn to stick to your words.' I snap at him.

'This isn't about me as much as it is about you.' These are the last words I hear him say softly, as I slam the front door ending the conversation.

I send Eliza a text that I'm coming over, telling her that I'm excited about the party and want to hear all about it from her in person. The front door remains shut as I pull my car out of the driveway. I find another new car blocking mine from behind.

'That is Harry's car. I've got the keys, I'll pull it out for you.' Henry pops up from behind the shed.

I drive around aimlessly, the wheels eating away the distance, the windows pulled down to let air inside. I keep going straight at every signal until the road ends at a bend and I have no option but to take a left turn. The air cools me down and I begin to think right. What have I done? Was walking out really necessary? Couldn't I be less dramatic and sit down  and talk like the supposed mature adult I'm supposed to be?

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. Since I have already texted Eliza, I turn towards my parents home. I tell myself that's the only reason but I know what I'm afraid of, the fact that I suck at apologies and wouldn't be able to deliver one to Maaz. Maybe listening to Eliza's chatter will cheer me up.

Dad is overjoyed to see me, 'Surprise.' I exclaim, pasting a smile as he pulls in for a hug.

'I've missed you.' His voice is muffled by my sweater.

'Hello stranger.' Ziyan yells from the hallway and bounds over to me, I scream as my feet are lifted off the ground and I'm spinning and then suddenly dropped by Ziyan. I wince as I fall on the floor.

'Welcome back sista.' He grins.

It is difficult to not feel happy being surrounded by my loving family, the only drug that keeps me going. Yet I feel a nagging hollowness in me, of missing something else.

My over wrought brain doesn't let sleep take over me. I lay staring at the ceiling. Eliza has long fallen asleep after gushing about the party, dresses she thinks she can wear and who would be there and who wouldn't. Tossing and turning does not help either. I was almost used to falling asleep now. I try to ignore the reason.

It was ever since Maaz had declared he would be sleeping in the same room, and I didn't have the courage to say no to him. Courage because to ignore his care and affection and remain stoic would require courage and perhaps a load of foolishness. Which I have no shortage of. Foolishness, I mean. Not so sure about the courage.

On those nights which I'd toss and turn, from across the boundary wall of pillows I had erected, a hand would rebel and creep towards me and gently wrap his little finger around mine. Me falling asleep each night may or may not be because of it.

The vibrations caused by my phone on the dresser make me look at the bedside clock, it's one am.

Reluctantly I push my blanket aside and get up. Reaching for my phone I see the name that flashes on the screen.

Maaz. Why hasn't he fallen asleep?

I receive the call but stay silent. I creep back into bed waiting for him to speak. He is silent for a minute and then, 'I miss you'. His voice is low, intense.

Through those three words he seems to want to convey an ocean of emotion. Fortunately he doesn't add those thoughts.

'I know.' I respond, my voice a whisper in the night.

'Come home.' Somehow it doesn't sound wrong. I had felt amiss at my parent's place, felt I wasn't a part of their lives anymore. I hadn't felt at home like I should have, the way I used to before. He was shelter and safety. Going to him would be to go home.

'I will.' I promise.

'Now?' The desperation in his voice tugs at my heart making it dance with joy. Outside I roll my eyes, a small smile manages to find its way to my lips.

'I can almost see you rolling your eyes.' He says with a laugh startling me with his accuracy.

'Zara!' Mama's voice awakes me from sleep. The sun streaming in from the window is mild. It is still early. The clock proves me right, it's six in the morning. I blink again, my phone slips down from the pillow and lands on the rug with a thump. Oh, did I fall asleep on him?

'Zara!' I get up imagining the worse scenarios possible for why she's waking me up so early. I rush outside and find her in the dining room.

'What...' I don't get to complete my sentence, my mouth stays open for, sitting at our dining table as if it's the most natural thing to do at six in the morning is Maaz sipping a cup of coffee.

'Morning.' He says looking at me over the rim of his cup. Words betray me like they seem to do most of the time these days. I stand staring at him not knowing what to do, partly annoyed at him for ruining my sleep yesterday night and then again now.

'Sit.' he orders, my mother seems to have conveniently vanished. I make my way towards the opposite seat.

He shakes a long finger and pulls out the adjacent chair for me, 'Not there, here.'

He pulls it closer to his chair leaving minimal gap. Belatedly I realise my state, the worn out tracks I'd slept in, my disheveled hair and sleep riddled face. I seat myself at the edge of my chair putting as much distance I can between us. Nervously, I fidget with my hands in my lap. My fingers linking and unlocking with the fingers of the other hand. He pries my hand away, enclosing it in his. Warmth seeps into me warming me from within. I didn't realise I was cold. For a long time he sits there holding my hand.

'Apology accepted.' He breaks the silence, then winks at me. 'Let us go home.'

***

The gushing water pounds against me. I'm pushed sideways. I thrash violently in a meek attempt to swim. Another sweep and I'm thrusted below, my flailing hands bring me back up to the surface. I gasp, the salty water burning my nostrils. I try to scream but no voice can be heard over the thrashing waves.

I'm drowning.

Tears of frustration roll down my eyes, my hair slick with salty water. I know I cannot stay up for long. Because I know that I cannot swim.

And why do I want to stay up? To stay alive?

Why?

He isn't there. It doesn't matter. As this realization sinks in my body stops revolting the current. Instead I let it pull me wherever it wants. I imagine I am weightless. I imagine it's a free fall and I'm in air not water. I feel a pull on my left hand. Imagining some grisly sea creature I pull my hand to no avail.

'Numair.' I whisper against my chaffed lips, closing my eyes waiting for the inevitable. His beautiful smile lights up behind my eyelids. It seems as if he is welcoming me. I feel myself moving towards him. Some still rational part of me says it's a wave pushing me again but all I can see is him, in crystal clear clarity. His warm brown eyes, their only focus being me, his lips pushed up in a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. His outstretched hand a silent question asking me to join him.

He is here.

My hand automatically reaches out for him only to be jerked back into the thrashing waves.

My perfect illusion shattered.

'Numair!' I uselessly yell, knowing it was all a trick of my mind. I keep yelling his name, my voice now hoarse, my eyes and nose burning. I wonder how much time it takes to die as the waves keep tossing me like a rag doll. It takes me a minute to see I'm not moving only tossing.

Something is anchoring me, holding me in place. Strange, an anchor would pull me down but somehow this is keeping me afloat. I feel the tug on my left hand again. My anchor that is where it is holding me. Not a grisly creature like I'd imagined. I attempt to free my hand again.

'Zara.' I hear my name being called from the distant horizon beyond my sight. When did my ears become so sharp?

The tug again and my eyes flutter open. The ceiling of my room comes back into view, slightly illuminated with the light streaming in from outside. The sheets are entangled between my legs with my thrashings. I feel the wetness of tears on my cheeks. A slight brush and the tickling tears are wiped away.

I turn my head towards the side. The left side. I find my left hand carefully encased in both his hands, holding me, anchoring me. He is sitting beside the bed on the ground, our joined hands resting on the sheets. His worried gaze meets mine and I quickly look away as realization sinks in.

Maaz.

My anchor.

***