[Enjoy!]

I decide to pray Fajr here and he doesn't check up on me. He lets me and doesn't mind when I sleep here after Fajr till 8AM.

I wake up, and brush my teeth, then slowly walk to Azaan's room and see him asleep. I take my gym bag and tiptoe out of the apartment.

~~~

When I get inside, I watch him sleeping on his stomach with his bare back up for display; the duvet reaches only to hide his boxers, and I can't help but gawk at his well-built back.

Of course, no one who's this conscious about their body would like to have a fat wife. I can't blame him about Kylie.

I go back to my room, put the gym bag down and go to take a shower. I damp my hair and put on a bathrobe, then travel to his room and silently shift half of my clothes to my room.

I go to Azaan's room and I want to kiss him a good morning but I hate that he doesn't even like me and I'm forcing myself on him.

I push the duvet up till his thick shoulder blades and kiss his hair.

And I so want to kiss his neck but suddenly a new fear gets planted like a seed in my head. What if he moans Kylie? What if, someday, he moans her name?

He can have an excuse for everything and I believe in them just to feel better and keep a hope lighted, but what if I hear him saying I love you, Kylie? Or anthing bad about me in his sleep?

He does mumble incomprehensible words. What if... he has actually said that... already?

I wince at the thought and run outside.

I plomp on the sofa, feeling my head pounding and my heart racing.

God, please don't let that happen. I know, there seems to be only one percent of chance that he might not be lying, but percentage doesn't matter to You. You can do anything. Please, let me be wrong. Let all his lies become true and all these logical thoughts of mine just be stupid assumptions.

My mind takes me back to all the parties I've gone to, -and although there were only a few- all the gorgeous, single and rich businesswomen appear flashing. They all were smarter, thinner, and two of them were also his old friends from University. I'm sure he has a better understanding with them.

Let alone understanding each other, Azaan and I barely understand each other's likes and dislikes. The other night, when I didn't know that he was in love with Kylie, and when none of this had happened, I went to his office, tired of waiting for him in the room. I went and sat next to him while he typed a few emails.

And when I started explaining him my day, how I went shopping with my friends, and I bought a watch that I saw a model wearing, and my friends insisted on going to this new ice cream stall near Samia's flat and they bought mint ice cream for all of them but I hate the taste since forever so with a cringing expression, I just watched them eat it because the stall was so busy, it was useless getting in the lane.

I was craving some ice cream at that moment, and when I was asking him to tell me his favourite ice cream flavour so I could order it, he cut me in the middle and told me to keep quiet.

He explained that he only chose this apartment because he wanted the study away from the rooms side, so neither I could disturb her, nor he would annoy me by bringing his work to the room.

I looked down at my hands for a while until he casually mentioned a project to me, while ranting about the office. And I listened to him. Although I understood almost nothing, I listened to the whole thing. And I went to our room.

I thought about how less worried he got when I listened to him. But he didn't notice that I was not interested. He just kept going on as if it were an interesting topic. And it sure was. For him. It's just that our likes repel.

But he could have listened to me too, right? It wasn't that hard. I was just telling him about normal things using easy words unlike his complicated project-related language.

I didn't get upset that day. I thought it was okay, maybe it actually wasn't interesting to talk about shopping and an ice cream stall. But maybe if he listened to me, I'd feel happier.

Now, I think back and I know that it probably isn't about the difference in likes and dislikes. It's that I love him and listen to him because I know it's a human necessity to feel heard. He doesn't love me and probably knows that it would make me happier but doesn't care about it.

~~~

I shake all the thoughts out of my brain. I take the towel off my head and go to the kitchen to prepare myself a good and healthy salad. The profound workout made me so tired and hungry.

I play Ali Zafar's Rockstar on my phone and sing along while cutting myself some apple.

I yell, "I'm a Rockstar naa rauk mainu,
I'm a Popstar, naa tauk mainu,
I'm a Superstar mujhe roz hota hai pyaar...

Don't be crazy, sweet baby
My name is AZ, sweet baby
Baby you're the one,
but allowed to hai naa chaaaaar-"

The music is stopped and my "chaar" sounds like an old door screeching. I turn round and see Azaan.

I shut my open jaw that's falling on the floor and my eyes playfully blink more extra. "Sorry, I think I accidentally trailed off the notes." I apologise.

"Please." He warns, staring at me with wild exhausted eyes. His dark hair's messy and hides the red pillow lines he has on the left part of his forehead. He rubs his eye, "My head's aching real bad, I need you to keep quiet." He hands me my phone and I play the song.

"Maybe my beautiful voice will make your headache disappear." I say turning and cutting apple slices.
"Oopar se seedha saadha,
Andar se bari cheez hoon,
Har season mein hit main ho-"

He snatches my phone and gets frustrated when he clicks on the power button but the music keeps playing. HAHA, he doesn't know about Spotify. He turns off the volume. I chuckle and he glares up at me with rage.

Born ready to face his wrath I yell, "O meri Channo mein hai ik nasha, Madhubala mein aisa mazaa-"

"Stop it, Sawera. You're making the headache worse." He says taking an aspirin.

"See? If you really loved me, you'd listen to my voice and your headache would go away." I shrug. Caught him.

"That's too unrealistic." He says pouring water from the jug.

"But it works. Listen. I'm a Rockstar, naa rauk mainu, I'm a Popstar, naa tauk mainu, I'm a Super-"

"Shut. Up." He says, almost whispering and I turn my head to him, where he's standing clenching his fists. "I'm sorry to break this to you but you suck at singing." He says and I spin completely to look at him while my jaw drops.

"Azaan!?" I say, completely taken aback.

He NEVER speaks like that.

"What?" He asks, rubbing his temples.

My jaw slowly pulls itself up and my lips form a small frown as I sniff. I take the plate of salad and the apple slices, pull out a bottle from the fridge and go to my room.

~~~

At night, when I get out to refill my bottle and take out my salad, I see him dozing off on the sofa with a hand spread above the head rest and the other hand controlling the TV remote. I look at the the TV and see a soccer match.

The lights are completely off, the only lights coming in are from the window and the TV.

I intentionally toss the salad plate in the sink as I walk in the kitchen without switching on a single light, and through my peripheral vision, I see Azaan jumping up on his seat.

Wow. I loved that. I loved scaring him. hahaha. Beautiful.

He winces at the sound and rests his head on the head rest.

He didn't even bother knocking on the door to ask if I wanted to go to his parents.

"There's a box of pizza on the dining table." He informs me and I look over the table.

"You want to get in bed?" I ask and he twists his neck to look at me.

I sigh as he doesn't move.

"Azaan. Get up." I walk to his room.

~~~

Tonight is no better. I slip out from beneath him, but he holds my hand. When he gets deeper into his sleep, I pull my hand and go back to my room.

This is my room from now on. That's Azaan's room.

And the crying starts again.

~~~

"Mujhey bhook nahin hai. Fridge mein banaa ke rakha hai garam kar lo." I tell Azaan from my room as he asks me to come out for dinner.

I've not met him the whole day. After getting in here last night, I only left this place this morning to go to gym once Azaan had gone to his office. I came back and didn't get out.

"Sawera, I miss you. Can you please open the door for a moment? What are you so busy in?"

Good question. Of course I'm not studying or working. I'm too useless for any of those. What am I doing, then?

"Azaan, we'll talk later. You're distracting me. I can't concentrate." I repeat the words he said to me in the office.

He stands still on the door for a while, maybe cursing me under his breath for throwing this many tantrums.

"Sawera, I love you." His voice is so innocent, I instantly melt.

God knows why I fall for his lies everytime, but I quickly unlatch the door. I move the stool back to the dressing table and open the door.

His eyes are round with innocence, love dripping out of them as he looks at me, longingly. "What were you doing?" He asks in a tired-toddler voice.

I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss the side of his lips, he tries to pull my lips in the center of his, but I just pull back. "I love you too." I grin wide.

He smiles, looking relieved. But his brows are still drawn together in confusion.

I'm in love with this baby-ish Azaan that doesn't shout and looks at me with such a cute confused expression that I want to cuddle and makeout.

But. He loves Kylie. And he doesn't want to makeout with me. Not until I become attractive.

He looks behind me to figure out what I was doing before, but gives up and looks at me. "I'm heating the food up, let's have a candle light dinner." He smiles and walks to the kitchen.

I follow him. "Can you call a servant from home, for cooking and stuff?"

He chuckles, "I told you that you'd get tired one day."

I look down at the floor, "Yeah, that day... came a little earlier than I had expected, I guess." I mumble. "Anyway," I look at him, "I'm not hungry, don't wait for me." I say when he's holding the dishes in his hand in front of a full countertop and can't quickly put them down and grab me before I go.

I close the door of the guestroom, take the stool, stand up on it and latch the door again while he shouts my name in a stern voice and yells at me to go back outside because he misses me so much and he wants to kiss me and tell me that he loves me and he's craving for me and if nothing then just have dinner with him, he's even ready to make me some salad if Aalu Gobhi disturbs my diet.

~~~

It's been six days since that Aalu Gobhi day. I haven't seen Azaan since that evening and he has threatened me to unscrew the latch the next time I get out, so I only get out when he's in the office.

Sasha, the servant who cooks and does the cleaning has helped me in lying to him that I'm eating well and everything's fine. I've told him that I'm just doing online classes.

I didn't know you could check the wifi browsing history, but he told me something like that and that I should stop lying and tell him if anything is bothering me. He had already apologised for the headache anger the night of the day it happened, but yesterday he mentioned that office incident and apologised, I assured him that it wasn't that.

I mean, it wasn't only that, right? I'm not lying, I just missed one word.

"Sawera, it's a Sunday. Do you not get a break from your online classes?" He asks.

I try my best to make up for an excuse, but I can't. I hold my breath and dismiss him with, "I gotta facetime my friends!"

"YOU CAN FACETIME THEM HERE! COME OUT OR I'LL BREAK THE DOOR, DANG IT." With the shouting, his voice gets raspy at the end. "You haven't even had breakfast!"

And I want to shout, 'Azaan, I'm not hungry' but it'll only fuel his anger and cause a broken door.

"Give my half an hour, I promise I'm coming." I rush and get off the treadmill I bought online yesterday just to not face Azaan and do the workout here in the room. I open the window for the room to get ventilated while I run to the washroom with a beige sweater and white skinny jeans. I quickly take a shower and get out of the room.

My heart thumps with my ribcage as I walk to the living room and Azaan looks up from his book.

He puts his coffee mug down and stares at me, he leans near the fist he has made with both his hands intertwined and closes his eyes.

I sit down next to him and my hands shake because I actually don't know the answer to any of the questions I'm expecting from him.

"Online classes?" He asks in a low voice and that low voice is terrifying because I know how loud it can get, and will most definitely get when my already decided silence will frustrate him.

He moves his neck to me like a serialkiller,

I nod.

"Of?"

Fuck. Um, what?

"Graphic designing. Can we talk about this later? Please? Once you're calmer-"

"-I just talked to Ramsha. After not finding you in the gym she called thinking that you were unwell." He says.

Screw you, Ramsha. I unite you with your love and you ditch on me.

"Why?" He asks.

What?

"Why would she think you're unwell?"

I get up and sigh, "I don't know." I walk to the kitchen, where Sasha has already made breakfast.

He pulls me to his chest, blocking any movement with my hands stuck between us and his warm hand on my back.

I look at him.

"Was it that time of the month, this week?" He asks.

I nod.

"Were you going to that gym of yours?"

"Yeah, Azaan. But it's okay to exercise while being on your period."

"But it is not okay to run twelve miles on the treadmill on these days. And she said you did a few sets of more exercises. Even the ones that the instructor at the gym told you not to do." He sounds a bit calmer than before but I know he's not.

"And? It's over now, I'm not on my period anymore and I'm fiineeee." My voice gets lengthy at the end as I try to convince him.

"Sawera," he sighs my name and lets me step back. "I want to know why you did that. You've probably only gained four or five pounds. And that's okay. It doesn't even show. Stop torturing yourself. Being too self-conscious is harmful." He tells me, loosening the grip behind my back.

"Why do you have a problem with me getting fit?" I ask, putting his hand down from me.

"You do not need to get fit. You're working out so much unnecessarily. You already are very fit." He says and it sounds like sarcasm so I look at him and examine his eyes.

He raises his brows, 'Understood?' and I roll my eyes as I put the breakfast on the table.

Shit. I'll have to eat this now.

I'll talk to you later, Ramsha.

"Ey." He grabs my hand before I go to the kitchen to get some apples. "Promise me that you won't workout more than necessary on that time of the month." He sits down and I promise him as I anxiously sit.

I've been dieting well, this is not good. I stare at the omelette. I look at Azaan who's just having two toasts.

I get up and cut myself an apple.

~~~

The same afternoon, after spending two hours and a half in the cinema, watching a RomCom, Azaan insists on going for lunch but we get home instead, because 'I'm not feeling well'.

He asks me if I want to go to his mansion, to get homemade food since Sasha is on leave today because he thought we'd stay out till dinner, but I assure him that I'll eat and he hands me some medicine.

He goes to his study and I make some Bengan and rotis.

I call him out for lunch and thankfully, he tells me to have it because he has some work. I put my roti aside and go back to my room.

~~~

The next day, a Monday, Sasha's helping me prepare the dinner and just when I tell her to go home, Azaan comes home.

He's a bit late than usual. Sasha leaves and he closes the door. He puts his office bag on the sofa, walks to me and hands me a gift bag with a grin.

I laugh confused and open it to see a bunch of chocolates. "That's too many."

"I know. I stopped at the flower shop but you don't like any so I bought a big bouquet worth of chocolates." He nuzzles his nose with mine and I giggle.

"That's cute. Thank you." I put them on a side and set the table.

"Just a plain thank you?" He asks and makes a disappointed face.

"Yea." I bite back the laugh.

"Sawera, come on." He says and I laugh.

He's smiling when his phone rings. He picks it up after drawing his brows together at the name.

"Hello, bhai?" He asks and his face drains from all colour in a second. "What? When? Where are you?"

I walk to him, worried.

"Bhai, don't worry, it's all going to be okay. We're coming." He says and looks at me quickly cutting the call.

"Bhabhi's in the hospital." He tells me and we both rush out while I ask him questions.

"What? Why? What happened?" I ask and he doesn't answer in the lift.

We get in the parking and he says, "I don't know what happened, bhai only told me that bhabhi started bleeding."

~~~

We sit back in the car and Azaan drives to his mansion.

Bhabhi is weird. I really feel bad for her, I can't tell how much miscarriages hurt, but she's always so lively and seeing her lifeless made me sad. She didn't even cry. She was so upset. She just said one sentence to her mother, which is the weirdest thing I've ever heard. She said she and Azaan's brother tried for two years to get this baby. And I think this makes me feel disgusting.

Bhabhi, no one wants to know that.

The weirdest part is how that wasn't awkward to anybody but me.

This world is a weird place. And it's getting weirder since the day I got married to Azaan.

We get out and walk inside.

I hate the whole evening. I hate how everyone's mourning the death of someone who wasn't even born. I wish I could tell them that it's just so useless and that it's making me uncomfortable.

But to add a cherry on top of the discomfort already baking in me, Azaan's mother keeps glancing at me once in a while. As if she wants to say something but she feels hesitant.

I mentally groan. I hate Azaan's family. I loathe being here.

The next time she looks at me, I maintain eye contact, and then I see it. I see what she wants. I see what's in her eyes. There's hope.

And it all hits me seconds later.

Ammi wants grandchildren.

Bhabhi's been trying for years and by the way they tell this whole thing, I think the couple has some medical issues.

She's hoping for grandchildren from us. From Azaan and me. Me.

That's...

I can't believe this.

I don't want to talk about this.

I move my gaze down as my hands nervously shake. I make fists and search for 'something' in my purse.

Screw it all.

I look at Azaan who's still with his brother, trying to calm him down.

I breathe in and quickly sprint towards my room, fanning my cheeks.

I close the door and sit on the bed, chanting the breathing mantra.

More than worried, I'm tired of these people. I'm tired of thinking the way God made all of this.

How can everyone be comfortable with the thought of pregnancy? I hate imagining relationships. How do you tell someone you have children without having them think of the obvious process you're indirectly talking about? And if you know you can't avoid those thoughts in the other person's mind, how do you walk comfortably in front of a person who's imagining you in bed?

How can you be modest when you have children? You're actually explaining your intimate life. You're showing your intimate life.

Men are shameless anyway, I don't understand how women can talk about all these stuff so openly. That's beyond disgusting.

I hear a knock on the door and I know it's ammi. I just know it. When I breathe out a stuttered 'come in', she comes in and talks to me about what frightened me the most.

I DON'T WANT TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH YOU, AUNTY.

I just nod at everything she says, until she asks for assurance at the end. 'Will you give me the happiness the whole house has been waiting for for years?'

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MEAN? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS EVEN MEAN?

Oh God.

I don't know how I manage a 'ji' without already bursting out in anxious cries but she kisses my forehead and leaves.

As my eyes follow her taking a leave, I see Azaan leaning on the door.

GOD, GIVE ME SOME TIME. PLEASE.

I groan and fall back on the bed when that woman leaves.

Fuck your family, Azaan.

"Your family is crazy and I'm leaving." I tell him and he looks at me but doesn't stop me.

I drive myself home and eat a bucket of ice cream in anxiety.

And then I get more anxious when I realise how I've gained back probably all the calories I burnt this week.

I groan and cry out a flood.

Aik masla khatam nahin hota,
doosra paida ho jaata hai.

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