****

"M..Mayra?"

Her gaze was fixed at the ceiling as she frowned in obvious confusion and pain. At the sound of Aamir's voice, her eyes snapped to his. Disbelief marred her features as she looked at her husband, as though seeing a ghost.

She had never seen him as such. Dark circles under his eyes, so dark they almost looked like bruises. He hadn't shaved, his hair was messed up, clothes wrinkled and he looked like he had lost a lot of weight.

But what was the most different thing was they way he was looking at her. His eyes. There was no anger, no disgust. But the strong emotion in his eyes, and the reason why there was a sheen of tears there, she could not tell.

"Mr Hassan, please leave. I have to call the doctor to check her, and then the police will record her statement."

Aamir saw Mayra's eyes widen at the mention of police. Thank God she hadn't lost her hearing, but he wanted to reassure her. She had nothing to fear, not anymore.

"Mayra, don't be afraid."

"Mr Hassan, leave! You can't speak to her as yet!" The nurse ushered him away, pushing him out the door. He turned back to look at Mayra one more time, joy at seeing her finally awake radiating warmth in his heart, yet what he saw made him want to run back inside to hold her in his arms.

Mayra was looking at him with longing, for reassurance, her hand which he had been holding raised towards him, silently asking him to hold it once more. Not to leave her alone.

The nurse pushed him out as a doctor rushed in. The Inspector walked up to them and asked, "Did he say anything to her?"

The nurse shook her head proudly and said, "I got him out before he could say anything to threaten her."

The Aamir of old, before having being changed by Mayra would have picked a fight at that. Would've probably threatened to have the nurse fired. But this Aamir chose to remain silent and brought his temper under control.

Never again would he give Mayra a reason to call him what she had in her diary.

A cruel, heartless monster.

I hate Aamir.

I want to die.

What had he done? On that miserable day that Mayra wrote those words in her blood, what had he done!

"She's in perfect mental condition to record her statement, Officer." The doctor said as he poked his head out the door and gestured the policeman and the nurse back into the room. Aamir knew he would have to wait outside, fearing what would happen. He didn't care for himself, he didn't want the police to force Mayra to relive the pain that she had recorded in her diary. But he wanted to know too. He needed to know, was she actually suicidal?

Of course she was, he thought sadly. Her agonized death wish, in blood no less, was ample proof to the fact. But that was nearly a year ago. 13th February. What on earth had happened, what the hell had he done?

God he hated himself so much!

What could have been more terrible than all the other things he'd already done to her? He couldn't, for the life of him, remember what had happened, neither did he know who to ask.

His father? No, definitely not. He'd end up in the ICU after asking that question. His mother? She'd probably become hysterical at the mention of blood. Khalid? Yeah, maybe he would know.

Pulling out his phone he called his brother. Khalid answered at the first ring. "All ok?"

"Ya. All cool. Do you remember what happened in February of 2013? Something bad? At home?"

"Are you crazy?" demanded Khalid. "Shouldn't you be worried about Bhabhi waking up, rather than something that happened last year?"

"She woke up. Its just that I need.."

"SHE'S AWAKE? And you're telling that to me now? ARE YOU CRAZY!" Khalid shouted, making Aamir cringe.

"Sorry, I got sidetracked. Come to her room, will you? I need to talk to you."

"I'm on my way." said Khalid before hanging up.

True to his words, within minutes Khalid was striding down the hallway to where Aamir was standing. "What's happening? Why are you out here?"

As if on cue, the doctor and the police officer walked out. Heading straight to Aamir the policeman stopped a foot away. Aamir stepped away from the railing he was leaning against, his heart beating out of control.

"She says you are innocent."

Khalid relaxed at his side, he could feel it, but that was not the answer he wanted. He waited for the officer to continue.

"Mr Hassan, do you think your wife is suicidal?"

"Absolutely not. She's the strongest person I know." Aamir replied, defiant.

"How can you be so sure?" The officer said, his expression irritatingly neutral and calm.

"She's my wife, I've lived with her for two years. I know her.."

"Happily married, were you?" the Officer smirked, knowing full well what their marriage was like.

"I.. umm.. yes.. That is.."

"Then why did you file for divorce?"

"What?" Khalid and Aamir sputtered out in unison.

"Divorce, Mr Hassan. The divorce papers you sent her, and your attorney confirmed that you had them made - albeit about seven months back, those were found about a hundred feet away from your wife's accident spot. Obviously, that was the trigger for her mental breakdown, and the reason behind an obvious suicide attempt. So I'm wondering why a caring and loving husband like you, who wouldn't hurt a hair on his wife's head, why and how could you file for divorce?"

Aamir looked shocked. Before he could open his mouth Khalid intervened, "Officer, we would like our lawyer present when you question my brother any further."

"Aahh," the officer sneered, "brother to the rescue, is it? I wonder, was this loyalty extended to your sister-in-law too? Hmmm, maybe not. Her scars tell a different story."

"If my sister-in-law hasn't accused my brother, there is no reason for you to do so, Officer." Khalid countered, his face wiped clean of emotion.

Taking a threatening step forward, the officer walked right into Aamir's face and growled, "Oh I will find a reason, Hassan. I'll see the two of you in jail. That's a promise." The Officer glared at them both and walked off.

"May we go in and see her?" Khalid stopped the doctor.

"Yes, but only one at a time. Don't overwhelm her, and don't ask her any questions, please. We don't want her to feel stressed."

"Yes, of course. Thank you." Khalid turned to his brother, who was still frozen and shocked at the mention of divorce, and patted his shoulder, "Bhai, we'll discuss all this later. Go to Bhabhi. She must be so scared. She needs you. Go. I'll tell Mum and Dad what happened here. I'll make sure no one disturbs you for a while. Go."

Aamir watched as Khalid turned around and left. His mind in a turmoil. What on earth was happening?

Abuse.

Suicidal tendencies.

Divorce petitions.

He took a moment to steady himself. What else could a person possibly go through and still survive. How on earth could they still love the person responsible for it.

Fear gripped his heart just as strong as his hand gripped the door knob. He needed to go in but he wanted to run away. As fast he could. He was afraid, genuinely afraid, of Mayra's reaction to him.

What on earth could he say?

Slowly, he turned the knob, and walked in as silently as he could. Mayra was lying still, a bandaged hand on her wrinkled forehead as she had squeezed her eyes shut, as tightly as she could, and tears flowed down her cheeks. As always, Aamir thought as his heart broke miserably, Mayra wasn't making a sound. Her misery and pain, her own. She wouldn't say a word. She wouldn't even make a sound. No one would know how badly she was hurting unless they looked at her. And when they did look at her, all they could see was a young and innocent soul, tortured and lost. Grieving. Hurting.

Dying.

A pained sob escaped her lips as her slim shoulders shook with force of her crying, breaking Aamir's daze. He rushed to move towards her, but again the infuriating nurse blocked his path. "Please try to get her to calm down. She just won't stop crying no matter what I say. She really needs to rest."

Shocking himself with the kindness of the gesture, yet reminding himself that he had to live up to Mayra's standards, he opened the door for the nurse and muttered a quiet "thank you". The nurse, expecting something else with the way she had kicked him out of the room earlier, quickly masked her shock, picked up the dressing tray used to dress Mayra's wounds and walked out, shutting the door softly behind her.

He walked up to her bed, gazing down at the woman who he loved with his heart and who he had broken with his hatred and found himself quite at a loss of what to say or do. He couldn't bear to see her pain. Her tears.

"Mayra. Stop." He whispered to her, sitting beside and holding her bandaged hand in both of his own.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, knocking his breath out at the sight of raw pain in those brown depths. "I.. I .. c..can't ev.. even." She hiccupped, unable to form a coherent sentence as she shook uncontrollably.

"Sshh," Aamir tried to calm her,"it's ok. It's all right. You're ok. Everything is going to be ok, I promise."

But somehow, he had said the wrong thing. Fresh surge of tears poured down her cheeks as she turned her face away from. Looking at the other side she cried even harder.

Panic struck hard in his chest. Gently he turned her turbaned head to face him once more as he asked in the softest voice he could, "what's wrong Mayra? Are you hurting sweetheart? Is it paining very bad?"

Mayra was crying so severely that she didn't even the register the term of endearment that Aamir used. The physical pain didn't even matter to her. Her head was pounding hard. The crown of her head felt like it was going to split open, precisely where the incision was made during her surgery. Not to mention her sprained right hand, her broken left ankle and the big hurting bruise on her abdomen.

Yet all of that did not matter. At all.

What mattered was that now she was back to where she was when those damned papers made they're way into her trembling hands. Back to the hopelessness and misery that was her life. Only, it was worse now. Unbelievably, it was far more disastrous than before, when she had thought life couldn't get any worse. Catastrophe had struck, and it wasn't even her accident.

Countless times during her failed two years of marriage she had hoped that she would find a friend somewhere she could talk to. That may be talking to someone would actually help her. But she had known she had been alone. There were times when her loneliness would choke her. But nothing compared to what she felt now.

She was utterly and completely alone, with a broken body and a shattered mind.

"Mayra, darling, please. Please, don't cry."

"Aa.. Aamir?" she whimpered.

"Yes, baby? I'm right here. Tell me, what is it? I'll fix it, I swear I will. Tell me." He pleaded with her.

"Wh-why?"

"What darling. What why?"

She looked at him and miserably replied, "why couldn't I just die?"

Aamir's heart stopped completely. His hand stilled mid-stroke on her gauze wrapped head.

"You wanted to die?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Mayra shut her eyes and cried. Aamir thought that was reply enough, but then she answered, "No. .You wanted me to die. I only wanted free you."

****