Somewhere Over the Rainbow

V

| CHAPTER - V |

DRAW LINES, CROSS LINES

The ride down the building and to Nawaz's car is awfully silent. Nawaz seems to be a little annoyed but still calm in manner. Francesco keeps to himself, arms crossed over. Nawaz has dressed herself in jeans and a blouse, her hair let lose. They stood on opposite ends of the elevator, mostly because Francesco didn't want to tell her anything just yet.

His face holds a mask and it's all too common and familiar to Nawaz. All of the Rodrigues siblings always keep their emotions to themselves and do not bother let anyone in.

It's only when they're standing beside the car does Nawaz say anything. She turns to face him and finally comforts him because that's what Nawaz always does with the Rodrigues siblings. "Want to talk about it?" Nawaz asks, taking a step forward.

Francesco's leaning agains the side of the car, his head hanging low.

The words of Rosanna come to stab right through him and the anger he feel relishes him once more. The man who sliced through him flashes through his mind and the past seven years come rushing back. Pain shoots through hum and his mind becomes a clutter.

It wasn't his fault!

And then he breaks.

Francesco's eyes water and he seals his lips trying not to be heard. He hates feeling lost - he hates a wandering mind. "You can talk to me, Chess," Nawaz repeats, taking another step.

Francesco's inside heat up and he believes he might just puke right there and then.

Nawaz's arms envelop him, hugging him close and just like that, Francesco feels calmer. He needed a hug . . that's all.

-

When they get back home, Francesco quietly drifts off to his old bedroom, hoping nostalgia may make him feel at home. Nawaz sighs, letting him, believing a little time and space to cool off is what he required. Therefore, she ventures into her own bedroom, where she finds her husband wide awake and on his laptop, watching something intently.

Nawaz does not announce her arrival, as, in this moment, she does not need questions being thrown her way. She silently changes out of her clothes in the corner of them, then folds them away and puts them in her suitcase. She then proceeds to occupy the right side of the relatively small bed, coating herself with the warmth transferred by the duvet and the body next to her. To occupy her mind, Nawaz looks at her child, sleeping in a cot.

Usually, Fahad would never be in the bedroom when she goes to bed. Yes, she very well is always awake until he comes to sleep, but, for a while now, she hasn't gone to bed with him there, present in the room. Now that Nawaz comes to think about it, she has forgotten how their nightly routines went, up until a few months ago. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath, a small smile tugging at her lips knowing that her child did not have to be put to sleep this time. She is grateful for the loads of help Fahad gives when it comes to raising a child.

Fahad has trained himself in quite a few areas; he knows how to expertly change a diaper, feed the baby and put him to bed. What he lacks knowledge of are the processes that lead up to the final skills her has acquired. Sure, Fahad is not there for her, but regardless of the state of their relationship for the past few months, Fahad has not once removed his mind or let negative effects fall upon his small family.

She hears a deep sigh, followed by the shutting of a laptop lid. The duvet and thin blanket rustle as a bigger body crawls in. Curse the less amount of space because now she can feel Fahad's breathing at the back of her neck. It makes her realise the proximity, she all should very well be familiar with, between them. She shivers, not expecting it and curls into herself, suddenly a little cold.