[Enjoy!]

I go to his office at lunchtime, after promising myself to not cry. It's been an anxious morning. I sit down in front of his chair and wait for him.

He seems to be in some long meeting.

After a while, I notice his fragrance and realise I had drowsed. I open my eyes to him intently looking at me.

My focus goes to his neck, "Is it okay?" I gesture to my neck, looking at his.

"Yea, it seems fine," his cheery voice calms me down.

"Cool," I leave.

Life could be so much better if I let the morning be a morning and focus on now.

When Azaan's okay with me, everything's okay.

Life's fabulous these days.

I have all I could ever ask God for.

It's beautiful. I had never imagined life to be so perfect. It's all I didn't even know I wanted.

There's no urge to relapse, it hasn't been there in three weeks.

Yes, okay, there are mornings like these but isn't that normal? How would I appreciate the good parts of life if there were no other part except for the good part.

There needs to be a bad part and I need to get over it.

I decide to start afresh.

I pick my handbag all excited and decide to leave office earlier today and surprise Azaan with some frosted cupcakes.

The plan changes right as I reach home.

It's brownies and chocolate cookies now.

My mouth salivates with the thought of it and I get started.

Baking is so relaxing, it releases serotonin throughout my body.

I laugh at the word. That's what cuddling gives him. That's when I heard the word for the first time. From him. On a Friday evening. Talking about me.

The way mama has always told me the opposite,

"God knows what sin I've committed to have you."

When the brownies are in the oven and the dough for the cookies is ready, I sit down and thank Allah for everything he has blessed me with.

Azaan's changed my life completely, all for the good.

I wonder how I used to live life before. What did I use to think? It was all so pointless. I had no passion, no hobby and I didn't even want to get married. What did future look like for me?

I used to live so carelessly, depression was written for me. It was in my fate.

Someday I'd get tired of that life.

ShukarAlhamdulillah for Azaan. He brought spice to my life. Okay, maybe with some downsides, but it all ended up so beautiful.

Thank you, thank you, thank you Allah.

The oven beeps and I rush to check the brownies.

I hear Azaan's keys while I insert the toothpick and ensure the brownies are perfectly baked. I hear him yelling my name and grin taking the brownies out, wondering how Azaan would find them. Until they fall down.

I see them all scattered and look up at Azaan, whose face is redder than ever.

I hate him.

Yes, I left without informing him. Okay, he got worried. I'm very irresponsible for leaving my phone there and hence fueling his tension since he wasn't able to contact me in any way.

But how is this a way to talk.

He has no right to shout at me.

Now that he has seen me completely okay, there's no point.

Why does his anger always last so long.

If there's one thing I hate about him, it's this.

He always shouts long enough for me to end up crying.

I move aside, take the dust pan and brush and throw the brownies in the bin.

He's still shouting how worried he was for me.

Ironic.

He's a psychopath.

He needs treatment.

"Do you not fucking see I'm crying?"

He goes silent, though still angry.

This is what makes me doubt him. If he were worried for me, he wouldn't scold me so much. If he thought I left office to go jump down some building then I wish I had, it would hurt lesser than all this.

Allah really won't let happiness be with me for even five minutes. I was just thanking Him.

"Sawera, I died when Amabella told me you left. You don't know what it felt like. For God's sake, imagine being in my shoes. Knowing what c-" he stops

"Knowing what?" I ask, "What? Where did you think I was?" I genuinely ask, "What did you think I was doing?"

"I don't know. I couldn't think of anything. Sawera please understand that I fucking love you and this freaked the shit out of me. You disappeared and I couldn't tell where to. It was the most terrifying half an hour of my life-"

"-You ruined my brownies."

"Do they matter right now? Do they even matter as much?"

"As much as what? Your anger?"

He sighs frustrated and continues ruining my day, "It isn't anger jaanam, it's concern."

"You haven't changed at all, Azaan. You're never going to change. You know how to ruin my mood. I was just thanking God for getting me out of that hell of a house I lived in before m... Nevermind. Keep on doing that."

For fucking real I know he thought I was killing myself and right now he's truly making me want to.

I truly consider it and imagine life afterwards.

Would he regret all this shouting?

He'd learn his lesson and never shout uselessly ever again. But what use would it be to me. I'd be dead.

There's no other way for me to cope with this blatantly appalling incident except by sleeping until he's in a better mood. But if I go to sleep he'll complain that it's all I ever do.

Life's too short for his anger management issues anyway. He's going to regret it.

I take the car keys and leave with my phone. He clearly wants to stop me but cannot.

I want to grab a Starbucks and the thought of calories slips through the sides of my brain, and I let it slip far away.

"I'd like a short cappuccino, please," I ask at the drive-thru of a Starbucks.

~~~

I get in the house. I wanted to stay in the car but then he'd think I'm doing this for him to come and apologize. Which is what I actually want, but I don't want an asked apology.

I don't want to seem such an attention seeker.

I go straight to the room, ignoring his figure sitting in the living room that's watching soccer and eating noodles.

I turn on the TV of our room and sit there for a while. It makes me sad that we fought right after I was thanking Allah for blessing me with ONE person on this planet that understands me.

He's too emotional. He got angry and had a flare-up. I should have been normal. I wasn't lost in fear or anger.

But everytime I think I should go apologize I see mama. The way she has always adjusted with my father. And how their relationship is. I never want ours to be that way.

But he isn't like my father, he cares for me.

It wasn't my mistake, I'm not apologizing.

I end it there and watch Don 2.

He comes in after getting freshened up, takes the remote and changes the channel.

I want to smack his head, there were only twenty minutes left for the movie to end.

I lie down and scroll my feed.

He turns the volume to full.

I look behind at him to see him fully concentrating in the soccer match.

I walk to the TV, switch it off and turn back to give him a smirk but he's closer than I expected and I freak out.

"I felt my heart sink, Sawera,"

I look in his eyes,

"It was terrifying to have you out of sight, I was afraid of all the things that could have khudanaakhaasta happened to you. I know I shouldn't have reacted that way, but it's my way to cope with fear. I wouldn't know what to do if anything hurt you even a bit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it. I love you and maybe you're right, maybe I am overprotective but you are aware of all that we have gone through in the last few months. I don't want to lose you ever again, I don't want to make those same mistakes. I need you in front of my eyes 24/7."

I find it all okay till the last line, but maybe he's right. He can't trust me with myself all of a sudden. I still have breakdowns.

"And I didn't prepare a long speech, but I can't believe tomorrow's going to be a year to the day we met," he smiles enthusiastically and gestures me to sit on the vanity table seat.

I look at the calendar and smile, he's right.

"A year ago, right now, I didn't know my life was going to turn upside down the next day. I'm so glad Allah made me meet you."

I nod, not knowing what to say and he takes a jewelry box from the drawer and puts it in front of me. I open it and at first only see a delicate locket but then, my heart gushes out, overwhelmed.

There are two organs, two real, like two biological heart structures conjoined, that form a smooth traditional heart drawing. The design is so intricate, "Azaan? This is so pretty?" I hold the heart in my hand,

The sides are so smooth... the backside has his name engraved.

I've never been at a happier point in life. It's all way too beautiful to be real. How do I thank Allah for all of this?

He moves my hair to the side and puts the locket on me,

It's so small, so perfect.

"Thank you,"

I don't feel like looking at my neck for any longer, I just noticed how the collarbones are not even half as prominent as they were.

I'm about to take it off when he puts a hand on my back, "Let it be, it's sleek and satiny, shouldn't disturb while sleeping."

He looks happy about it and that makes me forget that I don't actually like jewelry.

My father's main business is jewelry, if I were fond of it I'd wear it everyday.

"And I love it on you."

The sight of my collarbones makes me anxious, I nod and get up,

"It's lovely. And I love you but you know you came and ruined it all five seconds after I was done thanking Allah. Do you even know how humiliating that is? To be all happy for a thing that wasn't even there at that moment?"

"I'm sorry,"

"No, but how toxic is that? To justify all of that agression with that's my way of coping with fear-" I ask,

"-Do you want to bake those cookies? They look delicious but I can't trust myself with baking so..."

"Ouf, thank God, thank you for not attempting."

~~~

I leave the office before Azaan on purpose.

Let him think he controls me while I roam around the city.

The driver yet again stops me just like yesterday.

Yesterday I had to take a cab. I felt so disrespected. He had the audacity of not giving me the keys just because Azaan was in a meeting and he couldn't do that without Azaan's permission.

This time he- this is not our driver. But I remember seeing him in the morning. He drove us here from our apartment.

Did Azaan get a new driver?

He tries to convince me that he'll drive me home or wherever I want to go and when I ignore him and hail a cab, he helps me find one.

So you can't hand me the keys for me to drive in the safety of my own car but you can let me go with a stranger in a cab?

I really want to ask that until he helps me sit in the backseat and sits a security guard in the passenger seat.

Azaan's stupid.

I get out of the taxi and slam the door.

I'd rather walk.

I wanted to go shopping but he ruined my mood and I'd rather go home now.

I'm only four streets down when I notice the security guard from office following me.

I take my phone out, frustrated.

Sawera:
Fuck you Azaan.

I had written a bunch of I hate yous but it sounds ruder than I want it to.

I click on send and stop at a cafe.

The security man literally stands there like a bodyguard and Wallah if this isn't the limit of toxicity, I don't know what is.

I see my wrist right as I take my jacket off and the scar paired with the Wallah seconds before pushes me back to the worst memories.

I remember the day I tried to end it all. Azaan saw the bandage that evening. All color drained out of him as his breath paused while my arm sat over his hand. But before he could ask me anything I swore, "Wallah it was an accidental injury, I can never do such sort of stupidity."

And although still doubtful, he ended up trusting me.

Astaghfirullah, I didn't mean to do that. You and I both know what would have happened otherwise. Just forgive me this time. I promise no more fake Wallahs ever again.

I pull my wrist watch lower and cover the scar with it.

I look at the time and think back to a year ago around this time. It was my first day in his building and I was going to meet Azaan just twenty minutes later.

My life changed completely.

And I hate thinking if it was better before. It wasn't.

I order a cappuccino.

Having his eyes on me every once in a while makes me so uncomfortable.

An idea occurs to me and just for fun, I act upon it.

I leave the cafe after having my cappuccino and walk into the women only gym right next to it.

I take the membership and go inside while the guard waits outside for me.

I was thinking of jumping down some window, and unfortunately there isn't any but there's a back route from the canteen on the fourth floor.

If Azaan were here he'd mention how smart of an idea it is to have a canteen above a gym. Most people binge right after a workout.

I take a cab and since this was fun, I feel like going shopping again.

I shop for a while and just when I think it's too late and Azaan might go god mode this time, I see this one store that shatters my heart a bit.

The whole shopping experience was a bit uncomfortable.

But since I have already done so much, I might as well window shop there.

I try not to focus on the bodytypes of the girls around me, and make my mind that even if I don't like anything I'll still buy at least a piece.

There's a lot of them and I don't really like any except the black ones, but the black ones aren't all nice designs.

But there it is. This is what happens with clothing all the time. Your eyes always go to the gorgeous outfit at the end.

Most of the lingeries here look too revealing. This black lace one-piece-bodysuit is the prettiest I've ever seen. It makes me want to buy the rest as well. Right behind it is a similar design but with only one shoulder strap.

I buy both of them and a strappy two piece.

I wonder if it is even worth it but buy it anyway.

I'll gift it to Ramsha if it stays in the wardrobe for a year.

While I'm picking the strappy two piece, an attendant comes to help me with it and that's what I hate the most. Socializing for these things.

It's the reason I hate bhabhi, it's the reason I hate my friends when they tease me and it's the reason I wanted to leave the store as soon as I entered it.

I don't want people to know anything about my life.

Right now this woman knows why I'm buying this.

"Hi ma'am, is that for you-?"

"-Yea, thank you really very much, but I got it."

I'm about to walk away after giving her a smile when her sentence stops my heartbeat, "No, then I think you picked the wrong size."

Thoughts of relapsing spin around my head as I walk back and she takes the lingerie out of my hand.

I'm thinking of how I even ever stepped in this store but the negative thoughts don't go a long way.

She hands me a way smaller size seconds later.

"That-" I look at the nearest mirror, "No, that won't fit me," It needs to have a lot of elasticity to fit me.

"No, that seems to be the right size, ma'am, you can check the sizes on the scale in the corner if you'd like to."

No, I don't want anyone to see me here. This is so embarrassing.

"No, thank you, I'll check it at home and return them if need be."

No, I'm never coming back here.

"No, you cannot return-"

-Bhai ttheek hai jaldi khatam karo kyaa masla hai mujhe jaana hai araam hi nahin-

"-O-ok."

She looks at the rest of the lingeries in my hand and changes the sizes of them all.

I hurry to get out of there.

As I get in the cab I worry how bad the breakdown will be if it doesn't fit me.

I drop down on the sofa of the living room, a bit afraid, and decide to wait as I think of how it could look on me.

My eyes on the ceiling shift to a corner of the room as I notice something different.

Is tha- Azaan really put CCTV in the house?

It angers me and I get up to take my phone but notice the bags next to me and hurry to hide them away, hoping he didn't see anything in the CCTV.

But there's one in the room.

It's either I'm going to relapse or Azaan's going to suffocate me. I just know I've not gotten long to live.

I walk to the walk-in closet and check everywhere, you can't trust Azaan. But Alhamdulillah there's no camera here.

I look at the mirror and without any delay, try all the outfits on.

The first one that I liked there makes me fall in love with my body. It makes all of the miserable months seem senseless.

I had so not expected this. It looks gorgeous.

I live some seconds of delight but then I imagine it from Azaan's eyes and see flaws here and there.

I shake the thoughts off.

The second one's even prettier.

I need to stop imagining Amabella in this. It's unhealthy.

I look great and that's all that matters.

I try on the last one. I'm bad with straps. The top is perfect, but the bottom needs to be tied down by the sides and I take a lot of time to figure out how to do it until I actually get one side. The other side is almost done as well, though I'm not sure I did it right.

I startle as a loud noise breaks my concentration.

Azaan's messenger and coat on the floor.

He stands still and dumbfounded.

And I have this awful habit of freezing down. A bus could be coming my way and all I'd do is stand there, blocked. I never know how to react fast.

I thought of the stages. I bought the two not so revealing lingeries only for this purpose. It was supposed to be a step by step thing.

Not all all of a sudden.

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Hii, please don't think that I'm back, I'm acc not. I just think now I'm looser abt it, like I don't feel like anyone's waiting for an update. don't take me wrong, your comments are very encouraging and please keep commenting, but I have a problem with perfectionism and when I know that I have readers I feel like proofreading ten times at least just to make sure. rn i've stopped doing that and that's what's helping me publish at a faster pace, ig.