LET ME HATE YOU

What's marriage?

As soon as Asmaira entered the room, she stumbled to the couch and collapsed onto it, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

"I... I'm not jealous," she murmured through her cries.

Clutching the fabric of the couch, she let out a heart-wrenching wail. She lay there, weeping intensely, until a sudden rush of cold wind made her pause. She lifted her head, and another gentle wave of air seemed to brush against her, as if offering comfort.

She was about to stand up when she noticed the high heels still on her feet. She tore them off, oblivious to the blisters forming from her rough action. Her hair blew around her in the breeze, and she closed her eyes, whispering, "Raina."

"I n-never envied you."

Her eyes opened to see the curtain swinging back, revealing the sliding door to the balcony. She sniffled and walked out, letting the breeze surround her. Overwhelmed by a torrent of helplessness, regret, remorse, pain, and self-loathing, she stopped at the railing and tilted her head up at the sky.

"I just wanted to see you that day," she whispered, as if confessing to a crime.

"I n-never wanted to hurt you."

She managed a tearful smile when another breeze caressed her face, and Asmaira felt Raina's presence around her, supportive as always.

"I never hated you. I was happy because you were happy. You found your prince charming, just like you wanted."

A sob broke through her humorless chuckle, and she gripped the railing tightly. She lost track of time, but when her eyelids grew heavy, she closed them and blurted out the thought that had haunted her since the dance with Amaan.

"I'm pathetic and I don't belong here. No matter how hard I try to be strong, I just... can't. I'm tired."

She whispered in defeat, "I can't... do it, I ju—"

"What can't you do, Asmaira?"

Her eyes snapped open to the sight of two strong arms placed on the railing beside hers. She spun around toward the voice and gasped, finding Amaan dangerously close. She quickly tried to turn away and flee, only for him to press closer. With her back against the railing, her arms instinctively crossed over her chest.

"You're doing wonderfully. In fact, better than I expected. You've acquired everything you married me for. Mrs. Hashmi's title, power, money, luxury, and..." he paused, staring into her wide eyes, "Kabir."

The color drained from her face.

"You thought I wouldn't know you spend every day with my son?"

Unlike his rage during the dance, his calm demeanor was far more frightening. He looked resolute, intent on settling a score, and she was clearly the one who would pay the price. His eyes, however, seemed detached. He was the predator who had cornered his prey exactly where he wanted her. Without thinking, she shoved his hand with all her strength and ran.

She glanced back to check if he was pursuing her, but Amaan remained where he was. The unsettling calmness radiating from him intensified her desperation. When she stumbled over her discarded heels, she snatched them up and darted toward the door. As long as she was out of the room, she would be safe. With that thought, she skidded to a halt before the door and turned the knob while fearfully looking over her shoulder.

Her sweaty palm slipped on the knob in her clumsy rush, forcing her to grab it with her other hand to steady it, dropping her heels again. Her ragged breathing echoed in the room. Finally, she managed to turn the knob, only to find it locked. Her breath hitched before she twisted it again in vain.