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"When was the last time you weighed yourself?" He asks.

I've never been more embarrassed. I feel my body heating and blood rushing to my cheeks. I hold my tears in. "Um, yesterday." I get away from the mirror. I can't handle looking at my obese body anymore. "I swear I'm trying but I can't. Maybe, maybe I should consult another nutritionist."

He goes inside and I hold my cries in. I scream inaudibly and hit my thigh for making this so embarrassing for me.

I could imagine him leaning on the door jamb and saying, 'And you want me to love you? To love this body?'

He brings a weighing scale and my heart wants to jump out. I see myself opening the window and tossing myself out. How could I imagine that I deserved him and his precious time when I have this ugly body?

"No, I-" My breath hitches with a cry, he's hating me for even thinking he'd like to make love with that body. He or anyone. "Eh? I know it all. And I promise I'm trying. I get what you're trying to say a-and it won't, um," I take a longer pause than I intended to, "happen again? yea."

"What won't happen again?" He asks. He wants me to be clear so it doesn't happen ever again.

"Uh." I hate saying it so clearly, but he always wants clear answers. I grab my water bottle and take a few sips from it.

I'd rather stand on the scale and make him say it himself because I can't word out that I don't deserve to be anywhere near him.

I get on the scale and even one foot raises so many numbers all of a sudden, I take it off, scared to put the other.

"I won't try to get close to you." I utter. "I just thought you were sad yesterday and I'm sorry." I feel disgusting.


What? Weren't the words properly constructed? I repeat myself, trying to sound more honest.

He looks at me as if I were pathetic.

I feel so helpless.

I suddenly feel my parents' toxic house was better than this. At least I had some worth.

Bhai. I need him.

I walk to the door, starting to sob. "I need the fucking keys, Azaan."

If he hates me so much then why does he not let me go?

I whine, "I won't let anyone know. I'm not as stupid as you think of me."

I wish I had thought twice before saying the last sentence, because what I did yesterday was a big stupidity. I still can't believe that even after knowing how ugly my body is, I asked him to make love.

"I am stupid. But I promise I have nothing to do with your life and I won't tell anyone anything about Kylie." I say and look up to see him wiping away the tear that jumped out of his eye without any warning.

Wha- Why is he crying?

The only thing in my hands was to get on the scale. He didn't move a bit from his place. He just watched the number and I followed his eyes to it. I quickly got off it.

Zehnaseeb ✓Where stories live. Discover now