[Okay, look. This book has a really imperfect character with some really imperfect thoughts; Sawera. And this book has a really imperfect character with some really imperfect knowledge on disorders; Azaan.
This book isn't meant to promote or romanticize anorexia. It's supposed to be a guide so you know how to NOT handle a person with anorexia.
Azaan's an imperfect human being like all of us. Pardon him.
Enjoy!]

I just want to lie down on my bed the whole day, and I go inside to do just that but he calls me outside and I plomp on the sofa.

"Where do you want to go tonight?" He inquires.

"I don't know. Abeer's taking me to a par-"

"—That asshole is taking you out?"

I love that word coming out of his mouth.

"Eh, yes." I bite my lip to not smile but when I remember the hypocrisy I add on,

"You can go on lunch with Kylie, have her close enough to get her perfume's fragrance on you, laugh with her, say 'what would I do without you,' -something you haven't said to me ever, just so you know- drop her to her apartment on a rainy day and catch a cold, and as if she weren't enough, you go to Neeti's house, hold her hands, call her home, flirt with her- and now you have the audacity to call Abeer an asshole?" I ask.

"Oh, and not to forget," I add, "you flirted with my friends the very second day of our marriage. For which you didn't even apologise properly. You took me on a dinner date as an apology but even ruined that dinner date."

"And I thought you zone out so often and find it hard to focus because you are too stressed. You're-" He pauses then shakes his head and blows air out of his lips while rubbing his temples.

He gets up and leaves the house.

~~~

"Shit, man. I know I did it again. I'm so fucking sorry, Sawera. I promise I don't do this on purpose." He knocks on the washroom.

I stop my teeth from chattering as I speak, "Can we talk later, please? I'm tired." I turn in the bathtub.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

I clench my teeth to not make a sound, "Nothing, I'll be out in five."

I refill the bathtub with cold water after the one I'm sitting in gets to a normal temperature.

I sit in it for an hour, then get up and open all the cabinets but I don't find any weighing scale.

I wear my clothes and wait for the shivering to stop before I go out to see Azaan on his laptop. Now, looking up at me.

I'm still shivering a tiny bit.

"What were you doing inside?" He asks, looking straight into my eyes.

"That's... Not a question to ask."

"It is. Because I don't understand you whatsoever."

"I was taking a bath. You want to install cameras in the bathroom to check on me?" I ask.

"Why the fuck were you taking a cold bath?"

I go to my washroom.

There's no weighing scale anywhere in the house.

"Meri marzi, Azaan! Mujhe chaabiyaan do."

He ignores me, "You wanted to talk about Kylie, right?"

~~~

I thought I could do a hunger strike in this one corner of my room until he gave me the keys back but just one hour of overthinking is eating me up so bad, I feel the need to binge.

Half an hour more and I hear his footsteps. I get up and lock myself in the washroom. I wash my face with cold water to make the puffy eyes go away.

I haven't prayed Asr yet and it's almost time for Maghrib.

I get out and grab a prayer mat, all this time, acknowledging that he's sitting on the bed and watching, but the strike includes ignoring him.

I'm about to take a scarf and wrap it around but before I can even reach my wardrobe, my eyes dart towards the clock that shows 7:34PM.

That's... Even Maghrib has ended.

I sigh and sit on the bed. I hold my tears in and 'casually' brush my hair to the side to hide my face from him.

"What's wrong?" He sounds disinterested... Or confused. I hope it's the latter but I know it's the former.

I'm about to tell him to not talk to me but remind myself that I am to not to talk to him.

I take a deep breath and when I exhale, I hate how my stomach moves.

There goes the first tear.

It should not be moving. It should be concave at all times.

I know that if I wipe this tear, the rest of the waterfall will have the obstacle removed and won't mind flowing down, but if I don't, I'll have to live with this uncomfortable tear slowly going down, tickling my cheek.

And I decide to bear it, until I hear Azaan's footsteps. I turn on the bed and wipe, wipe, wipe.

"Sawera? Can you stop doing this? Please?"

Doing what? You have snatched my phone from me, the keys, the door... What do I need to stop? It's you who needs to stop trying to control me.

I'm not an object, an animal or any kid. I'm a grown adult who has all the rights to live life her way.

And if he has a problem, he may divorce me. I'll wait outside my parents house until bhai comes and finds me an apartment.

Then I suddenly remember.

Bhai.

Azaan's rat number two.

Is there anyone I can trust?

Azaan puts a hand on my chin and kisses my cheek from behind. I'm sure he feels the liquid on his lips and knows it's my tears but he doesn't give any damn.

"Can you come out, please?" He asks in that sweet voice that makes me melt,

but not this time.

No, Sawera.

Stop wearing your slippers.

God, stop walking.

Perfect, you're a dumbass. He's going to manipulate you now.

He looks at my puffy eyes. "Really?"

Asshole.

I walk to my room but he shouts a "No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." And I know I'm strong enough to not go back to an asshole, but I get worried when I feel my feet turning as images of that one beautiful month we spent together come in my mind.

I sit and after a while of him just looking at me, I forget that I'm looking ugly with these puffy eyes and I look straight into his beautiful young hazel eyes, "You know I love you, right?"

And his eyes go a shade darker. "You know I love you more, right?"

"Then give me the keys." I stretch a hand out and I feel relieved when he reaches for his pocket but my brows draw together when he puts my phone on my hand. "Okay, but what about the keys?"

"Unlock that."

~~~

I wipe my cheeks with the tissue paper as I nod.

"This one too?" He asks, swiping to another screenshot.

I nod, "But I don't..." The place between the coffee table and the sofa is wide enough for us both to sit, but I shift with unease. He pulls me back to himself and we share a small eye contact before I continue, "It's a lifestyle."

"No, it's not."

"Yes it is, I don't think of it as a religion." I watch the bio of the blog.

"It's not a lifestyle, Sawera. It's dangerous. It's unhealthy-"

"-So?" I feel irritated. I hate him trying to control me.

His heart seems to have sunk. "Sawera...?"

"So what, Azaan? You do not care. You should. not. care."

"I do care. I'm your husband-"

"-I'm tired of this thing you say all the time. You do not get the right to control me just because you're my husband."

"I do get to help-"

"-No you don't get anything but just that label. Leave me alone. Did I ever use the label of being your wife against you?"

"Label? Against? Do you hear yourself?"

With the way he's looking at me, I know he loathes me now.

"Yea, I hear myself. All you have ever done is-" His phone rings.

Kylie.

I mentally laugh. How not?

"What?" That's the rudest tone of voice I've ever heard him using with Kylie. "Can you not fucking call me every five seconds?" I get up with a trembling heart and hear his voice behind me as I walk to my washroom.

"... and I have a life? You could have emailed me about it. We could have talked tomorrow. Stop..."

My heart isn't trembling because of his loud voice. I'm used to him shouting on his phone every once a month or so.

I just hate him.

He's literally the opposite of what I thought of him in that one month of bliss.

I hate the way he's shouting at Kylie right now.

I hate what he did to Sasha. Or what he does to all the servants- not just him. His whole family.

I hear him knocking on the door of the washroom.

~~~

I wake up getting startled at a loud bang and watch the lumber holding the dead bolt come in flying like a snapped twig.

I see Azaan, and look back down at the broken door.

I've never been more frightened. My eyes go down and I see my clothes on while the tap runs.

He turns the tap off and picks me out, scolding me for God knows what. He puts me on the bed and I suddenly feel nauseous and hold my mouth but thankfully it's just water brash with that weird acidity feeling that goes away a while after I swallow.

My teeth chatter and I shiver until Azaan covers me with a duvet. I see his eyes reddening while he does that.

I try to stop the noise that my teeth are making but when I think that it might be helpful in making my jawline better, I start enjoying the sound.

"Hey, stop crying." I tell him and wipe his handsome features, he moves his head away and gets up from where he's kneeling on the floor. "You're literally crying all the time these days."

"Why would you do this?" He asks with these big pleading eyes.

"Do what?"

He runs his eyes down on me.

"I wanted to take a bath-"

"-NO, Sawera." I startle at his loud voice, "You're..." He holds himself in. His lips want to say it but his mind is holding him back.

I just sit silently and look at the floor, wondering what's so wrong with him these days.

When I see his shadow approaching me, I gasp and turn my head away, closing my eyes tightly.

"Sawera?" His soft voice turns me to him and I swear I want to gulp him in when he looks this cute.

"Azaan?"

"You are not okay." He tells me.

"I will become. I'm not losing the hope. The process is slow but it-"

"-You are not okay, mentally. Physically, you're perfect, except you need to stop starving and taking these stupid baths and setting those idiotic rules for yourself." He makes me want to cry.

He doesn't understand me.

He cups my cheeks, "You're perfect." His voice goes back to whispers that make me nod.

So manipulative.

"I love you. I love you a lot." He continues.

"But if I, err- don't do th-"

"-Fuck it, Sawera. I love you no matter what." His right hand on my cheek goes up inside my hair and tangles itself in. He pulls me close enough so that my forehead is touching his. "I promise, just two more weeks and I'll fire Kylie."

My lips part and I slowly make my way to his but his hand inside my hair doesn't let loose until I nod.

I don't know why his lips taste so good all the time.

"I love you." I repeat between the kisses and he makes my mood even better after repeating it back.

My hands reach for his shirt, so lost in him. I start opening the buttons while kissing his jaw, and when his hands reach to me, I scoot away with a large gasp.

His eyes focus back and hold mine into place.

I look down and pull my knees up to hug them.

He sits down on the bed, his back faces me and I sheepishly watch him take off his office boots.

I silently scoot behind till I reach the headboard, then rest my head on it.

I'm not shivering anymore and the duvet covering me is lying down on the floor.

That was enough hot to stop me from shivering.

He pulls my leg and I slide down the bed to him. I shout a 'No'.

He cups my cheek anyway and tilts my chin up to make me face him.

"I, I need- eh... Fuck, I stammer. I'm sorry." I start.

"No, it's okay. Calm down." He whispers.

"I need tim- I need... I think..." How is it so hard to speak. "What's? Whe-" I shut up and look down.

"You need time-?" He asks.

"-No. I... G-give me a second, please."

My mind shuts.

"Do you want- you really want to?" I ask. "I mean, eh, you don't- the last time..."

I legit hate myself so much right now.

"You and," I feel like I don't remember how to construct sentences. I breathe in. "I don't think you want it with me. You want it with-"

"-Don't you dare. I love you, and only you." He makes it sound like a warning.

~~~

I watch his silhouette pause in the dark.

He leans to kiss me again and my hand gropes inside the drawer. I wonder if there is any not-expired- how long does it take for a condom to expire?

I have to pull away from him to reach inside the drawer.

"I love you." It's literally just three words, and they should have lost their meaning by now because he's been chanting them, but everytime I hear them, the butterflies in my stomach jump faster.

I make this surprised-scared sound when he touches my tummy. I wish it were concave. In an attempt to not ruin the night, I move my focus to Azaan and I can't hold the butterflies anymore.

"You notice how... hollow it is?" He asks.

"What. The. Fuck."

"Your stomach."

I suddenly feel the temperature of my body go lower. I struggle to make the effort. "Can we not talk about it right now?"

Yes, avoid speaking about how badly you need a liposuction.

He doesn't even deserve this.

"Sawera, I love you the way you are." He kisses my neck and I sit up to search in the drawer below.

I hand it to him.

He doesn't deserve this. This.

I look down at my body and slowly push myself back.

"I don't... I don't want to do it, Azaan."

I see all movements stop.

I feel his eyes on me.

"You don't want it? Or you think I don't want it."

I don't know what to say.

I don't know what to say.

I start breathing heavily in distress and cover my face in embarrassment, - with my shaking hands.

His hands reach to mine and push them down. He cups my cheeks and I know he can feel my racing pulse and hot face.

"It's okay." He caresses my cheeks and his hands go behind my back to rub and calm me down but instead I burst into tears. "We won't if you don't want to, Sawera."

I feel the impulse to speak, "It's not that."

How could it be that?

It's impossible.

I can imagine how fussy one has to be to deny a perfect body. And look at me, with this body I don't even get the right to deny anyone. I should be grateful that someone is even giving my ugly self their time.

I'm wasting his time.

"I'm sorry." I breathe sharply, "Go. Go, w-ork, do whatever you want. I'm just-" I breathe in, "I'm stupid."

"No, you're not, Sawera."

"Stop, please. You're making me...- I feel bad for..." I pause, "I don't know. Just go away."

He pushes my hair back from my face before I start sweating because of how hot it is in here. I feel the cold air touch my temples and calm a bit.

"You're really brave for-"

"-I'm not a child. Stop it."

"You're-"

"Please leave me alone? I'm suffocating."

Even in the dark, I know he's searching for my eyes when he pauses. He kisses my forehead and slowly disappears in the dark.

I lie on the bed and pull the duvet up before the light outside the room can expose me. I hear the door shut and I feel miserable.

~~~

I stand in front of the study room until his call finishes, then breathe deeply before knocking.

The swiveling of the chair stops and his worried deep voice answers, "Come in?"

I close my eyes and move the handle down. I step inside and watch his worried look.

"I need a month. I promise it'll only be one month. I'll listen to whatever you say after it. I just need the door of my room back for thirty days." Thankfully, the preparation helped me not mess this up by stammering.

"The door of your room, our room, is there already, Mrs. Azaan Ali Khan."

"I mean the guestroom."

"No." Is his simple answer.

"Please."

"I said no."

"Azaan? I love you?"

"Sawera? No means no?"

I whine, "Please!"

His answer is the same.

"Azaan, I'll obey anything you ask me to do."

"Sawera-"

"-No, I don't want your lectures." I'm going on that strike. I'm giving up on water too.

~~~

I can't bear being alone. I hate this corner already. I hear his footsteps and quickly change the corner before he can see me moving.

He sits on the bed and watches me, for what feels like hours.

His hands are stretched far behind him and he's leaning on them to watch me.

I move my head down and go back to my thoughts, only to get anxious again. I cover him from my view using my hand but it gets tired after staying up for so long.

I spin a hundred and eighty degrees to stay out of his sight. Well, to keep him out of my sight.

I feel my heartbeat race when the thoughts go to the most negative track possible and I lie down on the cold floor.

It's okay.

It's okay.

It's all okay.

I get lost into the space.

I only realise I'm getting an anxiety attack after he lifts me and pulls me into a hug in a swift.

"This is why I can't leave you alone." He tries to make me understand.

"You're snatching my right to privacy." I argue anyway.

He runs his fingers in my hair and massages my head until I forget where I am.

~~~

It's 9AM. God, I didn't pray.

I missed Asr and Maghrib yesterday and Fajr today.

I sit up on the bed, exhausted. I try to recall last night. Did he put me on the bed? Or did I get up and get in the bed before falling asleep? I don't even remember how I fell asleep.⁰

I get up and go outside. I go to the study to search for him but don't find him there either. I slowly make my way towards the door of the apartment but take steps back as it opens before I can open it.

Azaan. With bhai.

They stop laughing and their eyes stop at me. I watch the grocery bags in their hands.

I hate bhai.

I go to Azaan's room and close it but don't find any latch.

I sit in my strike-corner and hear the wind shift as the door opens.

"Why is he here?" I ask.

He calmly walks to me and looks me in the eyes, "Don't be impolite, you're-"

"-Don't talk to me like my father!" I growl.

He makes the bed and leaves letting the door open.

Bhai comes in and I huff and spin around.

"I don't want to see you, go away." My tone is threatening. It was intended to be.

"Mamma mia, why is you upset with me?" He makes an Italian accent to make me laugh but he just sounds stupid to me.

"That's exactly why I don't want to see you. Nor Azaan. You two are- You; your father; and your new best friend, Azaan, are literally personality-copies of each other."

"My father?" He asks.

"Yeah, your father." I repeat confidently and try to suppress the sob but it just escapes. "I was praying Isha yesterday, Azaan came here, and I- I was praying, and I- I broke my prayer." I pause to breathe, "Mama was on the call, and Azaan came and gave me my phone and, I stopped praying to talk to her, and I." I can't breathe, "I talked to her, and she told me she missed me but she was, I, I told her that. She said she wanted me to go to her. She missed me. She lied that she missed me. She wanted money for, g-gambling and she ended the call when I told her that I wouldn't. Wouldn't give it. I broke my prayer. And I upset her. And I, don't like- you. Please, go away." I slowly turn and peek to look at him.

I see his eyes on me and move mine down from his face. I focus on the big black wing tattoo on his neck.

It gives me so much comfort.

"Can you come here?" My voice is lower than a whisper, but he's listening.

He comes and sits by my side. I push his knees down and lay on his lap as I silently sob to sleep.

~~~

I wake up with the feeling of a pillow beneath my head and a blanket over my body. I sigh and start to think when I remember bhai was here.

I tip toe outside and see the two hotties discussing dinner.

"Sawera ko nahin passand." Azaan tells him.

"Usse phool passand hain, yaar." Oh, okay. They are not discussing dinner. But why are they talking about me?

"Yaar, usse nahin passand naa."

Why are men created this way? Why do they argue over any and everything?

"Passand hain usse." Bhai claims.

I wonder why God even created men.

They look cute though.

From a distance, I watch Azaan raising his brows, "You want to bet?"

"A billion dollars?"

"Naah, itna nuqsaan nahin karwaana." Azaan cuts a tomato.

"Apna?" Bhai gives a small, almost inaudible chuckle and Azaan looks at him.

"Tum haare toh-" He sees me and his silence makes bhai look at him.

I hate being looked at.

I go inside the washroom.

Azaan walks in, "Do you like flowers? Your brother doesn't know you and thinks you like them."

Torn between wanting to cry my heart out and not wanting to worry Azaan, I nod.

"YOU LIKE FLOWERS?" His eyes widen.

"No- I... You're right, my brother doesn't know me."

He leans out with a victory snicker and booes him before getting back in.

His chin is on my shoulder and I don't even want to look at my chubby cheeks.

I don't like it. I just don't- I don't like myself, I don't like this place, this time... I- Nothing.

I don't want to hear what he's saying. I don't want to answer him. I want to break things but he'll stop my hands. I'd close the door so he wouldn't stop me but there's no door. I want to go out, far away and handle my shit but he has the apartment locked.

I look at him, "What do you want from me?"

He gives me his stern expression and waits.

"Why aren't you going to office?" My question is a wheezy unpleasant whisper.

"Because I want to be with you?" He straightens and touches his chin to my temple and kisses it.

"But I don't want to." I hate how noisy I sound after waking up.

"You don't want to be with me? And what do you want to do?"

"I want to go to hell." I can't even speak loud, this sounds like a statement and not the frustrated expression I wanted to scream at him.

It is a statement too, though.

Right now, I want to die. And with the way I'm missing salahs, I am going to end up in hell after death.

My hand lands on his pocket and he doesn't flinch, but grabs my wrist so roughly that it hurts.

He looks down and softens his grip before looking at me with soft eyes, "I'm sorry," he pulls my hand up and kisses my wrist, "that... was unexpected. I'm really sorry."

I slowly, politely, pull my hand out of his and reach for his phone to see the time for prayer.

There's still half an hour for Dhuhr.

I'm just so bored of life...

"Where do you want to go for honeymoon?"

I always want to scream at him because he always says the things I'm not in the mood of doing or talking about but I always calm myself down because he doesn't deserve a fussy unloveable wife.

"I think bhai's calling you." I tell him and he understands I'm not in the mood of talking.

There's no door...

I go to the washrooms attached to the guestrooms and none of them have one either. I get out and have to walk across the living room and watch them watch me before I get to the washroom in the other corridor that doesn't have a door either.

I picture myself screaming and breaking everything but I tell myself to not be more fussy.

I sit down for a second and breathe in breathe out. It doesn't change much.

I rush out and open the apartment door with the keys I see on the keyholder.

I plan to rush out before he catches me but I want peace.

"Azaan, I'll be right back. Just let me for fifteen minutes. Don't follow me, don't call-" I don't have my phone. "I need silence. Thank you."

I get down the stairs and run as far away as I can until I get cramps. I pant for air as I sit on a bench.

I don't want to go back.

That feels like a prison.

That feels like my parents house but a bit worse.

Bhai won't help me. Bhai is bonding well with Azaan.

I'm all trapped with nowhere to go.

Neeti, Ramsha, bhai... Everyone likes Azaan. Samia already has housemates and her housemates don't want me.

I have no friends except them.

I...

have no...

friends—

Abeer.

Where the fuck does he live?

How do I figure that out?

I don't even have my phone, I don't remember his contact number.

Ramsha and Neeti will tell Azaan that I went to them to ask for Abeer's number.

Samia won't.

I look around.

But Samia lives like, an hour away from here. An hour away on car.

I don't have any car. Or any money.

I can't go back because I have run for half an hour already and I'm sure Azaan's searching for me because he thinks I'm a child who can't handle life alone.

Okay, yeah, I end up crying whenever I'm alone. But that doesn't mean that snatching my privacy isn't wrong.

I run to Samia's house and after three hours -because I forgot the route- of running in these slippers and pyjamas, I find her home. Her housemate opens and calls me in, worried about the way I'm panting.

She offers me water and I thank her.

"Where's Samia?" I ask, a bit calmer after the glass of water and sitting down.

The awkward look reminds me that I need to give an explanation.

"Oh, I'm sorry, actually... I... I'm sorry for the disturbance. I just- It's a bit urgent. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, no, it's okay. Um, she's at work. She'll be back by 6PM, I think."

"Can I use the landline- No, your phone... to call Samia, please?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure." She unlocks her phone, searches for Samia's contact and hands me her phone.

Goddamn, Samia, pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Yea, hello Samia. Do you know where Abeer lives? Or can you please send me his number?"

"Sawera?" She asks, a bit surprised. "What are you-"

"No, there's no time for all of this. Just don't let Azaan know that I'm here at your house or that I called you and asked you anything. Tell me where Abeer lives, please." I bite my fingernail as I impatiently wait.

"I don't where he lives-"

"Then call him and ask, please. It's urgent." I'm wasting her housemates' phone's balance and that worries me because she's sweet and kind and doesn't deserve that.

"Yea, wait." She cuts the call.

I look at her housemate. "I, I'll just get the address and give your phone back to you."

"No, that's okay. Take your time." She gives me a warm smile and walks around the American kitchen's countertop.

"Thank you so much, and I'm so so sorry." I tell her. I wonder what she must be thinking of me. I'm such an asshole, ruining everyone's peace. She was most probably watching Netflix and chilling.

A notification pops with an address and I give her her phone back. "Thank you tons."

She looks at me up and down as I step back and turn to the door to rush out. "Hey!" She calls me. "That looks really far. I can drop you if you want."

"No, I've already troubled you enough." I unlatch the door and turn the knob while she walks to me.

"Let me. I don't think you have any money for a cab. I'm not doing much anyway." She walks past me outside and I close the door.

I walk down the four steps and she's already in her convertible.

"Get in." She tilts her head to the passenger seat.

As I sit in, I wonder how to thank her for being so kind.

I so do not deserve good people like her.

She's too nice. I'm a waste of time.

After five minutes of feeling guilty and bullying myself, I hear her.

"You like jazz?" She turns the radio on.

"Yea," I don't but it's her car.

"Mhm."

I look at her and she's really pretty. She's so thin, so beautiful. Hazel eyes, clear skin, brown, straight and perfect hair... I feel ashamed.

My skin is birthing pimples everyday and my hair is damaged because I don't remember the last time I used conditioner and I'm fatter than a cow.

She catches me watching her and I look away.

She stops at a diner and I see Abeer outside.

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