We might not talk much but sometimes even his silence saves me from my demons.
His eyes roam down from my face to my neck and then he trails them over my whole body. His shoulders stiffen when he looks at my hand. "You're hurt." 
I look at the couple drops of blood that are starting to dry over my fingers. "It's nothing. I was shaving and the blade slipped." I lie. I can tell by his demeanour he doesn't believe a word of what I said. He never believes them. 
I initially thought he just didn't trust me. But it's not that. He knows when I'm lying. There are many occasions and he knows every single time. He doesn't believe any of my lies.
Mum does though. "Oh dear! Let me get you a plaster." I try to object when she turns to leave but Harold shakes his head. "Let her go. You need to cover it. And we should get you a tetanus shot too." 
"I'm fine." I would need a million shots if we go by how many blades have cut me. He moves out of the way and points at the sofa on his left. "Sit." 
"I'm not your dog." He closes his eyes and sighs before opening them and sitting on the sofa himself. "Come sit with me." I'm being difficult for no reason so I sigh and move too. I sit beside him just as his mother brings the medicine box. 
I clean the cut and put the plaster on myself and when his mother is satisfied that I'm not hurt anywhere else, she leaves us be. Harold looks at me throughout this time. "Why do you do this Inayat?" 
"Do what?" I hide my trembling hands under my thighs. 
"Test us all." I look at him. His eyes are on me but he might as well be looking through me. Can he see how hollow I am on the inside? "More than often you hurt yourself and worry us all. You should be careful darling." 
I resort to self harm every time something bothers me. I do not know whom to talk to, so I try to fix my problems myself. I like the sight of blood. It fixes something in my demented brain. 
"Sorry." I say. He sighs and tries to get up, when I stop him. "Harold, I need to talk to you." He sits back down and looks at me. I know he is late for his office. I know he has places to be at but he sits down and gives me his whole attention as if nothing else matters to him but me.
"Thank you." I say. "What for?" He asks. 
"For everything you've done since the beginning. If I didn't have you, I probably wouldn't have survived." 
"You still have me, darling. And you'll always have me." I know he doesn't love me. Because he doesn't believe in love but when he says things like these I wish he did. Being loved by him would change someone's life. 
If he cares for me so much now when we barely have a relationship, he would've loved someone with all his being. 
He gives me a small smile before he gets up and leaves for work. He is halfway through the door when I grow a spine. 
I'm suffocating in this sham of a marriage every single day and while he does give me everything I need, I'm still stuck feeling empty. 
I can't demand his love because he doesn't believe in it. I can't bind him to myself when I won't even let him graze his finger against mine. I thought I could live like this. I believed that the freedom and luxury would be enough but I'm still not satisfied with what I have. 
I want more, I need more but I'm not normal. I don't know if I can ever have what most people do and I can't keep getting tangled in this web of deceit and broken hearts. Before I sink deeper into this sea of despair and drown, I need to pull myself out and leave. 
"Harold, I want a divorce." 
He stops with his back towards me, contemplates my word for a single second before giving his response and walking out the door. 
"No."
~~~~~~