Caged Nightingale

44- Atif

I put in the application for a visa. It seems the best way to do it is to continue the pretence of the marriage and suggest we are honeymooning in London. I have enough collateral investment in Bank and property to reassure the embassy that I am not going to leave it all behind, Otherwise they may become suspicious of us travelling.

I havent even thought about the trouble it's going to cause when she doesnt return. I'll deal with that bridge when I get to it.

Saara is still quiet, but she seems to be more relaxed. There were a few days when I felt like I was loosing her. Perhaps she just needed assurances that I would stick to my word. I have accepted that I am not enough to keep her here. It makes me sick and god knows it hurts to think of her leaving.

'She's wilting, you can't keep her locked up!' said Asma when she spoke to me on the phone. 'She's falling apart. just look at her! It looks like she's depressed. I thought you said things were going well! what happened?'

I don't have an answer to that. I dont want to admit the last thing that seemed to spark any emotion in her was when I confessed my love for her, that made her cry. They didnt seem tears of joy. Now she just seems detached. A part of me knows what she's doing: she is trying to not get attached to this life, to me. It's self preservation. If I was wise I would be thinking about that too, but I cant. Deep deep down there is a tiny ember of hope...

There isnt anything more I can do for her. There isnt anything I wont or cant give her. She just doesnt want it. She hasnt touched the jewellery, the clothes she wears mechanically as if she couldnt care less. She listens and responds from a distance, even when she is sat next to me. When we make love, she loses herself in me for a moment, but then she's gone again. The house might aswell be empty, she never leaves our bedroom. Mohsin says he sees her when I do.

When we sit together, eat together, make love, it's almost like we're suspended in time. Her happless mood is tangible, even when she smiles, its sad.

Even like this, I love her and feel protective of her. I hold her tight when I know my words are redundent and inaffective, hoping that my proximity is enough.

The feel of her body snuggled into mine, the sound of her rhythmic breathing as she sleeps, the weight of her head on my arm. I'm going to miss it all. Even like this, broken and lost, I can't contemplate her not being here with me.

Every night we make love. She seems fragile, like she might break. She reaches for me in the darkness and I for her, we lace our fingers together. She stokes my back soothingly, knowing that her touch is instantly calming. When she whispers my name in the darkness, I have to take a moment to catch my breath. Each moment, each gesture is agonising because I know soon I wont have it in my life.

I didnt know letting her go would hurt this much even before she's gone. Maybe I'm a sadist. Even this pain is better than no pain at all.