[Yay! There's still more to the book!]

What the fuck. I'm so jealous of you yaar, matlab market ki sab se loyal partner kise mili? tumhain. sab se khubsoorat? tumhain. sab se haseen? tumhain. sab kuchh toh hai tumhaare paas, zindagi mein aur chaahiye hi kyaa?? bro kaash main tum hoti man i'd kill to be you.

How can I let her go?

Aur by the way, agar main tum hoti main itni boring naa hoti. Nayi nayi shaadi huyi hai banda do din kaam chhorr ke kaheen ghumne hi chalaa jaata hai, hum tumhaare hain sanam nahin dekhi tum ne? I'm not Radha. I'd reciprocate. Radha was such a fool, yaar, who'd ignore a husband like SRK? Not only did he have good looks, he was romantic. She used to be so annoying I promised myself not to be her on my honeymoon. Ahaannn ahaan ahaan ahaan, Azaaaaaan. Why can't you just "aaj? aaj nahin yaar. nahin nahin nahin, aaj bilkul nahin. are nahin maine bol— are dinesh, meri nayi nayi shaadi hui hai yaar, ghar jaaun ga, biwi ke saath baitthoon ga, baat-cheet karoon ga, thori pyaar muhabbat karoon ga uss ke saath, haan tum manaa— are nahin bola naa? meri biwi se zyaada important hai kyaa? are iss ko samjhaa do main nahin aa sakta. tum bol do uss ko." Is it that hard?

I was literally a fucking fool.

It all could have ended before it began.

I watch her calmly resting since the last six hours.

Like it's something she's enjoying.

I'll never forgive her for this.

You don't even love me, I know you'll only start missing me once I die. No, actually. Just the way you don't have time to love me right now, you won't have time to even miss me then.

And all I said to her was Sawera please, I'm coming in five.

If I could go back and change it to No, that's not true. I do love you. I'm sorry, let's listen to your makeup tutorial now and then you'll let me take ten minutes and do my thing, deal? I really truly would change it for anything in the world.

"Mr. Khan, we need to talk." The doctor walks out of the ICU and I stand straight near the window.

As I walk to the cabin, I apologize to Allah for every tiny mistake I've made in life and tell him that if I ever did even a single good then please, as a reward for that, give me my Sawera back.

Her bloodshot eyes come in front of mine again and again.

The doctor has me sit down and my heartbeat fastens. I immensely dislike this feeling.

"Please be straightforward," I request.

~~~

In the last forty eight hours I've cried my eyes out. There's no one who can save her but Allah. I've thought of every single sin and I've tried to fix it all.

I've laid the prayer mat and prayed as many nawaafils as possible.

I've cried to bhai, I've told him I'd rather bear the Chicago prime location building loss than lose Sawera. We've contacted the lady but she's apparently no more.

It's her curses, I know it is. Her tears made me emotional even at the time of the purchase.

I've apologized, I've done everything, yet Sawera's still not responding.

I can't let her enter coma. It's all already going to be hard once she wakes up, I can't let it be so bad.

I sit down next to her and take her hand in mine.

I think of the last time my hand was holding hers.

"Sawera, please. You know how much I hate when you mess with me. I promise I won't stress you out with whys, just wake up once,"

The door opens, I watch the nurses come in and see bhai standing near the door.

I kiss Sawera's hand and get up after straightening the crinkled blanket.

I go to bhai. His eyes have welled up and I don't know how dry mine are.

"Azaan, you need some rest. Leave it on Allah,"

He knows I haven't slept in two days and the whole family's naturally worried. I nod to him,

"What did they say?"

I shake my head, "Two type of drugs were involved. SSRIs and SNRIs, both bottles were empty."

He tries not to express shock and keeps that comforting expression over his face,

"The, the bleeding led to an anoxic brain injury."

He rubs my back and we sit down on the chairs, I hold my head, still wondering why she did that.

"Altogether it caused a severe brain injury, they're— they're saying she can go to coma—"

He squeezes my arm, "Let it be. It's no big deal for Allah—"

"—It's been months," I look at him, "I've been with this in mind for months—"

"—18 years. Hazrat Ayub AS spent 18 years terribly sick. His wealth, his health, his family, all was taken away. Faith is all he had. And it's all you need right now."

"I do trust Him. When I realised what was happening things had already gone so downhill that I thought nothing could ever go back to even nearly what it was. But I trusted Him, and it did go back to nearly what it was before, only to bring us even lower. And I still trust Him, but this constant fear of how wrong things can go is eating me up. I can let any single thing on earth go except for my family."

"Allah tests us with what we love the most. Have faith."

I wipe the worries away and nod,  "How's Abyan?"

His contagious smile takes over. It's so bright as he talks about him, it makes me happy.

I remember the post miscarriage depression bhabhi and he went through.

I wish he never has to lose anyone he loves ever again.

Sawera's mother walks in while bhai's telling me how Abyan's eyes look like mine and we get up.

"How is she?" She asks, redirecting my mind there,

"She'll be fine very soon, InShaAllah."

Both her parents came here right after I called them. Uncle looked much more tranquil than I thought he would as her brother explained it all to them. He seemed a little angered but kept his calm.

—  S A W E R A  —

"Tired?" I ask as I take his coat off him.

"Mhm," he yawns and rushes a hand through the back of his neck as he goes and sits on the bed.

I mentally scream in excitement,

I was waiting for this moment my whole life.

God, exactly how I imagined it to be.

I kneel in front of him and open his shirt's buttons while he has other thoughts run through his mind, "Very thoughtful, I must say,"

"I know,"

He stands up and I tip toe to pull the shirt off his shoulders.

He takes my hand before I leave and I roll my eyes as he pulls me to himself, "Speed up, I'm getting impatient."

"You literally just have one thing in your head the whole day,"

He doesn't even listen to me, he keeps bringing his face closer and I laugh and give him a small peck before I leave to the closet.

I take my bottle of Golden Radiance body oil and walk to him. He's fixing his hair looking in the mirror from afar, right where I left him.

And he looks so cute, I feel blessed.

"Lie on your stomach."

He furrows his brow, "Me?"

I tsk and roll my eyes, but he doesn't move, "Yaar Azaan you're running the whole mood, it's not what you're thinking it is."

"Fine, cool, kay," he puts his hands in the air and lies down,

I walk to him and open the bottle.

"Close your eyes," I ask and once he does, I make him smell the bottle.

"Mm, that smells so nice,"

"I know right!" This is so exciting, Azaan was never into this, he's finally free enough to have such calm moments with me. "I saw an ad of it on Instagram and frankly speaking, the page did give me baby fever,"

I put the oil on my palm and rub it on his back, slowly massaging it.

"God, I love the color. It has twelve natural and active vegetable oils from microalgae, it nourishes and hydrates the skin deeply, contains firming powder,"

I read out the whole benefits list and amaze him, and I swear I love shopping such products.

It relaxes me more than it relaxes him.

"On the shoulder,"

"Here?"

"Mhm,"

I know he's going to fall asleep in a few minutes.

I spread it all over his lower back and it takes him seconds to start snoring lightly.

I massage his neck and watch him sleep like a baby.

then kiss his hair and get out of bed but he holds my hand, "My turn,"

"No, I'm not tired,"

"Doesn't matter,"

"No, I'm going to go take a bath,"

"No, I'll help you with one later,"

I nod, having him think that I'm going to take my shirt off, "You can't really take a bath, you know," I say calmly walking to the mirror, "you have to let the oil absorb for six hours," I grin and run to the washroom.

He taps on the door, "Very unfair, Sawera."

I laugh at the memory, and at the fact that we later discovered the oil to be expired, and turn to my side but my hand's in Azaan's. I open my eyes to slowly move it out without waking him up.

Why is he sitting—?

Fuck. Worse memories drop on me all at once and I feel the need to rush out of here.

On God, if I'm not the biggest loser on this planet, I really wonder who is.

How can more things go wrong with just one person?

"Hey? Are you okay?" I hear a sweet unknown voice.

I pull my hand out of Azaan's and he jerks awake, "No, no, I'm not."

—  A Z A A N  —

"Sawera?" My voice comes out hoarse, I properly blink my eyes open and watch her with all seriousness. It better not be a dream.

Her face is completely pale, her eyes still bloodshot and I can't bear the pain and silent anger in them.

"Can he go, please?" she pleads to the nurse,

The nurse looks at me with suspicion, "Can you come back later, please?"

I'm still in slight shock but leave.

"I don't want to be here,"

Right as the door closes, I see the medical staff going in, and half my family and half hers waiting there.

"How is she?" Her bhai asks and I'm too dumbfounded to utter anything, I just nod.

—  S A W E R A  —

This is so embarrassing.

All these months, I spent all of them thinking he was in love with me.

If he had told me on time I wouldn't have fallen so deep. How can he even be religious at this point? After all this lying?

I slowly calm my thoughts. Or maybe it all calms down thanks to the drip.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asks,

What am I supposed to feel like? I failed at what I thought was my last duty on this planet.

It has to be. I can't fail twice.

I need to excuse myself and try again.

I look behind me.

It's a private building, Azaan can stop the news from getting spread. At this point, even if he does get defamed, he maybe deserves it.

I don't love him.

All the memories of him smiling flash in.

I do love him.

But having a psycho wife is all he's going to be blamed for.

The doctor leaves.

I see bhai standing on the door.

The guilt increases. I should've died. Why did this happen?

Nor can he ask anything, nor can I get myself to utter anything.

I can't even meet his eyes.

He leaves and I pull a tissue out from the sidetable.

I want to beg the nurses to leave me alone but before I can say a single word, I see both my parents.

My heart sinks. I can't face anyone.

I've never been more upset with Allah.

He doesn't want me dead. He doesn't want me near Himself.

He literally created me.

My parents literally gave birth to me.

I don't get what I did so wrong.

There's no one I know that likes me.

No one.

Why is Allah doing this to me?

I want to go and cry in Azaan's arms, that's my only comfort zone. I don't want to see anyone else.

Azaan doesn't deserve having to handle me 24/7. He maybe went to Kylie to take a break from me. He deserves that. He deserves all the peace.

I can't blame him for anything.

I can't hate him.

He knew if he didn't show he loves me, I'd end up this way.

—  A Z A A N  —

"Fuck, it really is cold." She rubs her arms over the jacket she's wearing.

"I told you to wear a thicker jacket."

"Agh, no, I'd rather die of this cold than wear a puffy jacket. I hate how much space they occupy between my arms. It's uncomfortable."

I let her walk in front of me and put my arms in both pockets of her trenchcoat, hugging her.

I love her surprised laugh,

"Azaan, we'll fall on the snow."

"You know, I haven't ever had a snow fight?"

I love how excited she gets helping me in my firsts, "So if we have a snow fight right now, I'm going to be the first person you've ever had a snow fight with—? Azaan! Have you ever made a snowman?" She squeals in excitement, "No, because I'm so artistic, we should have a competition."

"Artistic, yea right. I saw your painting."

"It was better than yours."

"Really?"

"Yea, you made it fall on purpose. You knew you couldn't compete with me."

"Ahan?"

"Ahan,"

"Huh?"

I've realised she was right when she pointed out the reason I tickle her. I only do it to save myself from embarrassment.

I hear her father scolding her and walk near the door,

"Sawera, what do you not have? Every couple fights, it's normal. There was no need of this."

"I'm sure it was her, she definitely did something childish," her mum says, "I know how mature Azaan is. He would have understood had you been calm. This is no way to behave."

"Isn't this why she came home that day?"

Her parents are having a useless dialogue between themselves. This is decaying.

I look for her brother, he's the only one who can handle this.

"Every couple has silly fights, there are always more alternatives, why would you make a scene out of it and embarrass Azaan with all of this?"

"You could have died, Sawera."

She's not stupid, what are they even doing?

"Do you know how many problems it would have created for him?"

What the fuck?

"If anything was going wrong you're adult enough to solve it together, like normal people. This was time for you two to have a family, you could have done better, beta. This is not a smart option. If anything, you've ruined your relationship even more."

"Do you even know how worried we all were? How much time has been wasted? Forget us, Azaan hasn't slept properly in three days."

Guilt tripping her into getting well isn't smart either.

"Have we not been bearing each other for years? Did we ever let anyone else know? Sawera don't ever let it come out. Whatever happens between you two should always stay between you two."

I open the door, not being able to take it anymore.

She's wiping the tears off her eyes, not uttering a word. She follows their eyes and sees me, then lowers her eyes even more.

"Can I have a talk with her, please?"

"Sure," her mum gets up from the couch and her father leaves, ashamed.

"Don't make it worse. Be more understanding, okay?" she pats on her hands.

I can't say anything to them, I try to let the anger go. Her mum gives me a smile before leaving.

I watch the door close and look at Sawera.

Forget everything they said, it's my mistake I called them. That's what I want to say, but it would be wrong on so many levels.

I take her soft hand in mine and she keeps soaking the tissue with the help of her other hand.

I don't know where to start.

I cup her face and wipe one of the flowing tears. It takes no longer than a second for another to make it's way down her cheeks.

She meets my eyes for a very small instant and withdraws them with a hitched breath,

"I didn't know, I—I thought it would end. I didn't know you'd have to face all this—"

I leave.

I can't do this.

She's disordered and maybe she's right. We don't belong together.

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