[Enjoy!]

Vomiting makes me feel better until I feel like puking even more and my organs ache from all the pushing.

I cannot stop puking no matter how much I try.

I see his silhouette and scream that I'm not doing this on purpose but even that doesn't stop the vomiting.

I feel one of his hand gripping my hair out of my sight while the other rubs my back.

I hover all over the toilet and I cannot stop the urge to puke out even the first bite.

I hear him talking to the staff for a brief moment and I hate every single atom that makes the universe what it is right now.

"Can you leave?" I say before feeling that watery taste of sickness that accompanies the urge to puke. "Please." I gulp it back.

This is already way too embarrassing for me, him watching it with his eyes makes it even worse.

He flushes the toilet.

After saying that, I keep gagging like I want to vomit but I cannot get myself to get anything out of my body.

He tells me to get out of the place or I'll keep gagging and gives me some paper to wipe out my mouth.

That's it. This is it all.

I don't want a single second from the future.

Here, I want to end it here.

I gargle with the mouthwash and I hate this universe including Azaan.

I wonder if he'll talk about this or make me drink some stupid soup.

"Do you feel—"

"—I do feel better Azaan." I groan while my head spins and I almost fall on the floor.

"I can see that." He takes me into his arms and I instantly feel all conscious for five seconds and tell him to put me down but the indifference on his face makes me feel like I'm saying this in my dream and I pray for this whole dinner to have been a nightmare because I hated every second of it.

My hot head feels better on the cold pillow. I see blurry pieces of Azaan walking out of the room and I pull a pillow to myself and snuggle to sleep.

Morning comes very late. I feel like I have slept for more than ten hours.

I look at the clock and I probably have because I don't remember when we got out of there but it's apparently five in the morning.

I pull the blanket up.

If his elbow was a little more angled, it would be poking my ribs.

I close my eyes and put a hand above his, feeling the warmth I hadn't been able to feel during those awful few months of his ignorance towards me.

I never want that. I never want to go back to that time.

I'd turn around to face him but his hand stiffens with the smallest of my movement.

He inhales deeply before removing his arm from me and sitting on the bed while I close my eyes pretending to be asleep.

I feel his gaze on my side. It takes him five seconds to decide and shift to my right.

He lifts me and pushes his hand behind my back from below me, then uses the other one to massage my scalp until he falls asleep.

I wonder if he loves me.

He sometimes does things to make me feel like he does love me.

Who in their sleep would give a fuck about another?

It's the guilt.

I'm flattering myself over the limit. It's only the guilt. He knows all of this is happening because of him. He sees the insecurities he has gifted me in this marriage and he's too kind to tell me they are rightful.

Having these insecurities is pointless.

I'm never going to be as smart as Kylie, let alone prettier.

Abeer ain't bad. But I cannot be satisfied with just him after having had Azaan.

And I understand if Azaan feels the same for me.

Actually I don't. I don't understand why Azaan feels that way about me.

Why did God not make me Kylie?

I'd be smart, I'd be gorgeous, I'd be his life partner and we'd both be happy.

He'd get what he wants, I'd get him.

Why did God have to make Azaan so— he said wallah. He said he has only ever loved me.

He's kind, if this is guilt then he's a good person and he'd never lie in that manner.

Then this is automatically not guilt. He... loves me?

I feel his hand massage my scalp again and I shut my eyes.

It feels nice. My head feels better.

I need to write that down. I can't forget that he loves me. Forgetting that makes me do worse things.

"Azaan?"

I put a hand above his moving hand.

"How do you feel?"

I roll my eyes. I was hoping we were good but he's still worried.

"I feel like... like I love you." I reach for his cheek.

He chuckles, "Do you now?"

"Yea, it's a nice feeling, you need to try get it from me someday."

"Oh. I thought I already had it?" his voice is still groggy, "Way more than you."

"Naah, I don't trust that."

"Are you challenging me, Mrs. Azaan?" He nuzzles his nose.

I look at the clock, "No, I just want to make sure. But, um, can we like—"

I so want to say it because it would solve half of our problems but it's such a weird thing to say.

"Promise me you won't... grimace. No you don't grimace but you... Promise me you won't make me feel horrible about mysel... about it."

He stares at me for five seconds.

Five seconds aren't a short period of time.

He gets out of bed. "Have I ever made you feel horrible about yourself?"

I stare back for even longer until I notice his mind on me.

Yea. Since day one.

"No." I get out of bed.

"You're a terrible liar,"

that one sentence makes me forget where I wanted to go.

I pause to think of an excuse.

"You don't need to cover it up, Sawera. I'm very sorry about it. I never meant to."

I take one look of him from top to bottom and leave.

I left without a smile.

I should have faked one.

He must be feeling terrible about himself.

He's too kind, he doesn't deserve that.

Fuck.

My heart flutters so quick, I walk to the door but my breath is so fast I cannot speak a word without losing my breath.

I feel dizzy and nauseous.

I lie down right where I am. Next to the door to our room.

I gulp the awful sickening liquid of remorse and feel the sweat droplets appearing all over my body and my stomach aches with the next gulp of saliva.

I drag myself to the sofa but can't push myself up so I lean onto it.

I realise sitting is making it worse, so I lie down on the floor and close my eyes.

I don't know how it all happens, but I'm in the backseat of a car with my head on Azaan's lap and him expressing all his feelings to me.

I get lost with the biography he gives me of himself and can only catch the last sentence, "but I promise I've never fallen in love with anyone but you and I can't afford losing you. Please open your eyes Sawera."

I try to open my eyes but it feels like I need a rest.

"I'm... okay Azaan. I just need to sleep."

"No, okay, yea, you, you can sleep once we reach the hospital. We're almost there Sawera."

I sit up and lean over the window but he pulls me to himself and I lose all consciousness after putting my head over his shoulder.

~~~

"She's okay, she's completely fine. But, Mr. Khan, you should have let her follow the diet plan."

"I talked to Ms. Fernandez and she said Sawera can eat as much as she prefers as long as it's not above the number of calories her BMI needs. She left half the plate full but I didn't once force her to eat more."

The guilt overtakes me and I wish to go back to the unconscious state forever. Did I eat too much? Is all of this because of that?

I wonder what Azaan's thinking of me.

My stomach takes a toll and I quickly sit up to vomit but lose my balance and almost land on the floor but the nurse helps me.

I hear Azaan's worried voice speaking to me for a short while. He kisses my hand but I can't see anything clearly.

"Her stomach has shrunk a lot because of those bad habits. It's not healthy for her to have three meals a day." I hear their dimmed down voices right after the door slams closed.

I had three meals yesterday.

Fuck.

That's so fucking awful.

I realise I'm being taken on a wheelchair and I fucking hate myself so goddamn much I wish I could just remove my existence from this world.

I wish the world had never known me.

Why didn't Azaan carry me?

Logic leaves my brain for a long while and I wonder how much I gained out of that one meal.

I don't even know what to do with myself.

~~~

After the ECG wire-stickers are taken off from my body and I've worn my hoodie, I get off the bed and walk outside without informing any nurse.

Azaan's waiting by the reception, and when he sees me his eyes glisten with relief.

I mean, this can't just be because he's a good person, can it?

It can.

But it isn't, he said Wallah.

I walk outside, frustrated of having this same conversation over and over in my head.

I hate having to think all the time about the same thing. I hate him not being clear enough, I hate him not being assuring enough and I hate myself the most.

I think of the way he was worried a few hours ago.

I hate him.

I look at the car.

I hate having no other option.

With a frustrated sigh, I sit down in the passenger seat.

In high school there was this very clingy and awkward girl that everyone hated. She was too intrusive and did the most annoying things possible. We all only let her because she had a medical condition.

Right now I feel like I'm her.

Azaan's letting me into his life because of other reasons. He never liked me. He just has to bear me.

I look at him as he drives and hate everything on earth but specially that house.

He looks at me and I watch my posture. I fix my sleeves and when his eyes are off me, I measure my arms.

Panic rises through me and I raise my sleeve to measure it better.

This is, it cannot be possible.

I've spent so much time trying to lose this, it can't all come back so quick.

"Sawera, don't—" He pushes my thighs down and secures the seatbelt, "don't—"

"This, you did this. Azaan. Azaan you don't know how hard I— why?" I hyperventilate, and I swear if I was driving I'd crash into a building.

"Look at me. It's okay, hm? There's nothing wrong with it, with you. You're perfectly alright." His voice is so calming and I struggle to swallow the tears back but I have no other choice.

If I keep crying he'll think I'm doing this for his attention.

Uf, I really had to fall in love with Azaan out of all the people. Someone who doesn't love me.

But who does?

Abeer didn't.

Leave Abeer, my parents didn't. Everyone's parents do.

What's so wrong with me?

Is there anything I do different than others?

Why does no one—? Cade. He— No fuck. He didn't. He— he found me— but he found me attractive enough to—

I shut my mind instantly.

This cannot be what my life has come to.

Azaan ruined me.

Everything was at least, bearable before him.

It was actually bearable until that Cade shit happened. I shouldn't have gone to that party.

I should have left instead of sitting in a corner. No one would notice.

And that's what I need to do. I need to leave instead of living in this misery. No one will notice.

Azaan will find any girl. Anyone would love him.

Leaned on the window, I see my face on the side mirror. My face is too round.

But it won't matter once I'm not in anyone's sight.

"And a cappuccino?" Azaan looks at me.

We're in a drive-through.

I nod and he looks away.

There's a relief that comes everytime he looks away. He stops seeing my dark circles, my thinning hair, my puffy cheeks.

I should have gone to The Biggest Loser. Maybe that would have helped me lose these cheeks.

I wipe my eyes and sit down properly when the coffee arrives.

He hands me a cup of soup and gives an explanation and I nod without listening to him. I take it from his hands and sip it, avoiding my subconscious that's cursing me for every sip.

But I can only avoid her till a limit. When the thoughts overtake my actions, I have to find a way to go back to that life.

"Can you drive me to my parents?" I ask and have him look at me for a while. He wants to say something but let's it be.

He calls at the landline of my parents' to ask if they are home, and they are. He lets them know that we are going to be there in two hours.

We reach there and I don't wait for Azaan to come open my door.

My parents welcome us in their living room and there's a moment of awkward silence until Azaan handles it and indulges into normal talk with my father.

I excuse myself upstairs after half an hour and try to vomit the soup out.

I can't get myself to vomit even a sip. My inside is to weak to push.

I wash my face multiple times to get the sweaty feels away.

I haven't even showered today.

Otherwise I'd hug Azaan one last time.

But I let it be and take a shaving blade. I look at my wrist and I don't know how you're supposed to cut it but I try to cut as deep as possible and while the blade is inside my skin, I hear Azaan's footsteps.

The blade falls out of my hands and hyperventilation is my first reaction.

He knocks on the door to make sure I'm fine and I look at the amount of blood I've lost.

He'll easily save me if he takes me to the hospital now.

How do I... I don't know what I want to do. How, how do I cover this before he sees it?

I take a bandage out of the cabinet and tie it with my shaky hands. I try to put as much cotton as possible but the blood is oozing out.

What will Azaan think of me?

How do I hide this?

I try to stop the blood in every way possible but at last I have to call for a servant.

And if anything could be more embarrassing than that, it could only be this fat.

I let the servant in the bathroom and tell her to bandage that. I have to bear her terrified looks and concerns before she secures the bandage.

It wasn't a deep cut if it didn't need medical attention or stitches.

I'm going to have to cut harder next time.

I avoid Azaan's fake concerns by taking a shower.

~~~

When we reach home, I lie down on the bed and think about the soup's calories.

I imagine myself jumping out of the window but Azaan interrupts that, telling me to have something to eat.

"When are you going back to office?"

I can't bear him around 24/7.

"Do you want me to go away?"

"Can Kylie come back, please?" I ignore his playful remark.

"Shut up. We decided not to talk about this ever again."

"You are making your life miserable with your own will."

He calms his anger, "Can we forget this morning?"

"But why do you not go to office?"

"Do you not like being with me?"

"You don't need to pity me, Azaan. I was okay before you."

"I'm not—" He has nothing to say.

"Until I get where I want to be, life will stay miserable. And you're not only making it difficult for me, you're also making it unbearable for yourself."

"Sawera," he pauses, "you don't love me."

He disappears inside the washroom and I spend the whole evening wondering why he said that.

I ruined my existence for him and he doesn't even see it.

—  A Z A A N  —

"How do you like this one?"

She looks around at the tiny crowd assembled in one corner of the store, very lost.

I have to nudge her to get her attention. "Huh?" She startles but covers it up with an attentive nod, "It's nice,"

"So,"

She waits for me to finish.

"Don't you want to try them on?"

She nods and takes a few of the hangers from me.

The fitting rooms are lightly crowded. I hang the clothing in the second last room of the corridor, get her in and close the curtains.

"Azaan," she opens the curtain and hands me three clothing pieces, "these fit alright but I don't like them. I don't want them."

"Did you try them on?"

"Yea, I don't like them. Any of these three. I haven't tried the rest—"

"Wear this one again," I hand her the white blouse, "I want to see you in it. I'm sure it looks good."

She grimaces but goes inside.

I pace back and forth, looking down at the dim light falling outside her room.

"You aren't done yet, Sawera?"

She winces lightly before opening the curtain halfway, "It doesn't look good."

She holds the piece away from her body, not letting it embrace her the way it's meant to.

I push the curtain open, hold her hand and push it away, "Let it look good."

It looks great. She looks great.

Her hands lift up involuntarily when she looks down but she lets it be.

"It looks lovely," I say and lift up my eyes to watch her looking at the woman that just got out of the last room in the corridor and looked at Sawera while passing by.

Sawera fixes her dress, "Uh, okay," she doesn't seem to like the dress at all but goes back in to try the next.

The curtain opens again but shuts before I can see anything. I watch a lady go to the last room and it's maybe because of her. Maybe Sawera saw her looking at her.

"I don't like these. Can we go to another store?" Her voice is low, but clear.

I move the curtain, get in and close it.

The yellow dress looks gorgeous on her. It reminds me of our Walima and how beautiful she looked.

Black, blue, yellow. These are her colours.

"This one's even better than the previous, Sawera. What do you not like about it?"

"Really?" She hesitantly looks in the mirror, "Can you go look for a bigger size, please?"

I want to say so much to her but nothing is effective. She does not understand anything that I want her to.

"The size is perfect too."

"It's a little tight, Azaan," she complains but picks another hanger, "anyway, it's okay I'll keep—"

"No, this is not to keep, it's to wear."

She nods.

I wait for her and she waits for me until she says, "I haven't tried this one."

"I know."

And she nods, "yea."

I nod back.

"Yea, no, I mean I need to try it."

"I know," I push her hair to the side, and look in the mirror to get a grab of the zip.

"No, no, stop. I can do it on my own."

It takes me back to the Walima again.

The difficult to reach zip.

I want to apologise for not being kind enough that day but I don't want to remind her of any bad memories.

She holds both sides of the back in place before they fall off her shoulders, "I will do it on my own, I can do it on my own, thank you Azaan, I can manage," she keeps mumbling, slowly pulling the zip back together.

I don't know what to do.

I'm frozen as I think of both times.

How beautiful were those initial days with her.

What's happening to her? It's freaking me out. I don't know how it will end and it's even more frightening when she behaves this way.

"Are you okay?" she asks, starting to fan my eyes with her hands.

She looks at me confused, then at the clothing,

"I know it's not bad. I will wear it. It's very beautiful," she picks the white blouse too, "this one too. They are both okay. And, and, and I think we need to go and look something for you."

"I think it'd be better if we went home."

I think of the way she fanned my face and I want to go back inside and hug the life out of her and apologise for every second that I spent away from her all these months.

She's the prettiest person I've ever seen, inside out.

—  S A W E R A  —

Azaan's been upset since we have come back. At dinner he barely puts anything in his plate and eats at my pace.

He hasn't spoken much since and I swear if I could hate myself more I would.

I wonder what word upset him but I don't remember much of our conversations.

I'd ask but he doesn't seem to be in the mood for a conversation and I don't have much guts either.

He lies on the bed and I join him after brushing my teeth.

There's an unsettling silence, in which I try to make a place for myself until he sighs out loud and I startle. His eyes shoot to my side, "You haven't slept yet?"

I pull the duvet above my shoulders while gulping my saliva, "I was. I, was, just. T-trying to do that."

Could you stutter a bit more, you idiot?

I turn to my side.

Hours pass and it's already sunrise.

I spent the whole night trying to figure out what I did to upset him but I'm too dumb to understand anything.

He gets up and once I hear the bathroom door close, I get up and look at all the clothing we bought yesterday.

There's already so much stress in this everyday life. I don't want Azaan to be upset with me.

Truly, the only way I find out of all this stress cycle is cutting my veins.

I walk to Azaan's side table and take the anti depressants.

I try the clothing again in the closet. It looks alright until I imagine myself standing in front of Azaan wearing this.

I try not to panic and go out, distract myself but it's impossible for me to step out of the closet. I look horrible.

I have a mental breakdown and sit on the floor in front of the mirror. I can't do this.

I don't know why Azaan's upset with me but if it's because I am not wearing these then I'll have to apologize. This wasn't meant for me.

These clothes aren't for me. They are for girls like Kylie.

[Vote, comment & share.]