True Purpose

c h a p t e r 18

"So! We finally meet again!" He snarled.

"S-Sahir?" Zaynab finally managed to say, after a long time, the stutter returning back.

"What are you doing here, alone?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Zaynab didn't have it in herself to answer him. Here was the guy who was responsible for why she used to be so scared of Hassan all along, thinking that all men, including Hassan, would turn out to be like Sahir. Here was the guy because of whom she must have hurt Hassan, who had only been nice to her. And now, Zaynab didn't want to have anything to do with Sahir ever again, especially not after she had finally started warming up to her husband.

But when Zaynab didn't answer him, he grabbed her upper arm the way he always did, with his fingers digging into her flesh.

"Answer me, Zaynab! Or have you lost the ability to talk after marrying him? Do you make his life as miserable as you had made ours? Poor guy, you must have been a burden on him!" Sahir sneered.

Zaynab had no intentions of answering any of his questions. But instead, her eyes were fixed on his hand that was tightly grasping her upper arm.

"Sahir, you have no right to touch me!" Zaynab said, and for the first time, her voice came out clear. She didn't stutter even once. But if she was surprised at herself for talking so confidently in front of the guy she had always been terrified of, she certainly didn't show it.

Maybe it was the fact that he was holding her arm - and from what she had learned about her religion, non-mahrems had no right to have any physical contact with someone - that gave her the confidence to speak up like that. Because what Sahir was doing directly went against her religion.

But before she could realise what was happening, she felt a sharp pain on her cheek and her hand immediately flew to hold her stinging cheek. Sahir had just slapped her.

"How dare you talk to me like that, you ungrateful wretch? My mother fed you, sheltered you and educated you, yet this is how you speak to me? Just how dare you?" Sahir hissed through gritted teeth.

"I'm not ungrateful for what your mother has done for me. I've never ever spoken back to her. I do appreciate all that she did, but wasn't all the torture that I received from you both enough as a repayment for all that she did for me? And then, didn't she finally dump me on someone else by marrying me off because I was a burden? How does all that make me ungrateful?" Zaynab said, thanking Allah that she didn't stutter again.

"Shut up!" Sahir snapped, and he raised his hand one more time.

Zaynab squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for another slap. But to her surprise, it never came.

She opened her eyes to see Sahir's forearm being held back by a hand. Shifting her eyes from Sahir's arm to the owner of the hand, Zaynab had never been more relieved in her life to see anyone as she was right then to have seen Hassan.

"Sahir!" Hassan growled. "Don't. You. Dare!"

"Oh, I see. You're another one of those typical men who become their wives' slaves," Sahir mocked.

"Release my wife's arm. Let go of her. Now!" Hassan ordered through clenched teeth.

"What makes you think I'll do what you want me to?" Sahir asked with a sneer.

Hassan forcefully let go of Sahir's forearm and took an intimidating step towards him.

"You'll do as I tell you, or you'll have to face the consequences. This is my wife, and no one but myself has the right to touch her," Hassan warned.