𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐍 - rewritten | ✓

TWELVE

Maham moaned. Her mouth was near his. It was dark in the room, except for the lamp in the hotel room next to the bed.

She wanted the lights off. So, he couldn't see her marks and scars yet. She was comfortable with sharing her body but not comfortable enough to say the abuse on her body.

The room was filled with intimacy, bed squeaks, moans, and grunts.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deeper making them one soul.

But unfortunately, their intimacy was interrupted. They ignored it the first and second time. Maham's eyes closed in annoyance and Zayan groaned, hiding his face into her neck as his phone started ringing again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing her cheek in apology. He pulled away, leaving her feeling empty, both physically and emotionally. She covered herself with the blanket and sat up, backing away, watching Zayan as he put on his trousers and grabbed his phone.

She tightened the blanket around her, annoyed but her annoyance turned into worry as she watched the color drain off Zayan's face.

"Kya?" He asked in disbelief. "Mai aaraha hoon."
(What? I'm coming.)

Maham's brows narrowed and she shook her head. Who leaves on their wedding night?

"Aaima ne apni nas katne ki koshish ki, mujhe ghar jaana hoga," Zayan said, dropping his phone on the couch and wearing the remaining of his clothes as quickly as he could.
(Aaima tried to cut her vein, I have to go home )

"Mag- magar waha dono mamu hain aur Osman hai, apko kya zaroorat hai?" She asked, getting on her knees on the bed while sitting covering herself.
(B-but there are uncles and Osman, why do you need to go?)

"Kya hogaya hai, Maham? Hamari cousin ne apne aap ko marne ki koshish ki hai aur tum mujhe rukne ka keh rahi ho?" He asked.
(What has happened, Maham? Our cousin tried to kill herself and you want me to stay?)

She shook her head. That is not what she meant but it is kinda what she meant. She opened her mouth to speak but he shook his head.

"Time nahi hai," he said and walked out of the room.
(It's not the time.)

She froze watching as the door shut and locked. She looked around the room, a gloomy feeling towering over her heart. It was a serious matter, her cousin tried to hurt herself.

But she couldn't help but feel selfish. Her husband left her naked in bed and unsatisfied on their wedding night.

Tears welled in her eyes but she closed them, gulping and clenching her jaw. You're being selfish. Stop it.

But she couldn't. A sob escaped her throat like a choke and she slowly got out of bed, securing herself with the blanket.

She wore what was on the floor, too busy being vulnerable to walk over to the bag and take out some simple and comfortable clothes.

She wore her wedding dress back and started audibly crying. Not one day -- not even a night where she could have her peace. A night where she could feel love. For the first time but no.

And she could feel herself falling back into a flashback.

The young her, 4 or 6, sat on the breakfast table alone, applying jam on her bread by herself when Shahnaz entered the room and glared at her.

"Kiski ijazat se liya hai?" Shahnaz asked.
(Whose permission did you take?)

"Kisi ki nahi, mami," she answered, her voice soft and innocent.
(With no one's permission, mami.)

"Yeh cheezain tumhare liye aayi toh hai lekin haath lagane ki jurat mat karna warna yehi chuhri garam karke..." Shahnaz trailed off moving the knife closer to Maham who backed away, her eyes closing and a squeal escaping her.
(These things are for her but do not dare to touch them or else I will warm this knife and...)

"Jab tak tum mere ghar mai ho. Sukoon nahi mile ga tumhe," She said.
(For as long as you're under my roof. You won't get peace,)

"Dafa ho!" Shahnaz yelled and Maham ran away on her little feet.
(Leave!)

Maham bent to the floor, sobbing. How cruel a woman has to get to threaten a four-year-old with a knife? She raised her sleeve and stared at the permanent burnt mark on her upper arm.