LET ME HATE YOU

First Night

Marriage!

A day that is engraved deeply into one's heart. For some, it's one of the best days of their lives; for others, it's a new beginning. Some women see it as a celebration of becoming someone's 'forever,' while others view it as the union of soulmates-each perceiving the marital bond according to their deepest desires. Yet, one element remains universally present: love. Whether it's love for the soon-to-be spouse or the affection lavished upon them during the entire ceremony.

It is widely believed that a girl looks magnificent on her wedding day, a truth often witnessed in the tears a groom sheds upon seeing the woman he loves as his bride.

All this would have been true for Asmaira if her marriage had occurred under typical circumstances. Although her wedding unfolded exactly as she had pictured-in her modest home with only her family present to witness one of the most significant moments of her life-she was anything but happy. For her, the romantic notions about marriage and finding a soulmate were a cruel mockery of her reality. She stood there, solitary and grieving. Grieving for what had already transpired and for the dread of what lay ahead.

"I do!"

A tremor ran through her as she recalled his voice during the ceremony; the suffocating tension she felt at the moment of the vows still sent shivers down her spine. It was a voice she had never heard before, yet she could sense an unwanted, almost repulsive connection. A connection she had desperately wished to avoid forming in the first place.

She had been perfectly content in her middle-class existence until the truth emerged, shattering her peaceful world. Marriage was meant to bring joy into her life; instead of happiness, she was consumed by fear, emptiness, and profound restlessness. Instead of the comfort of her family, she was besieged by loneliness, and instead of envisioning a future filled with a husband's love, she was terrified.

Soulmates?

When her soul was filled with nothing but utter loathing for her husband, how could anyone possibly consider them soulmates?

A solitary tear escaped her lowered gaze as she remembered the expressions on her family's faces, particularly her father's. The devastating thought that her father couldn't even meet her eyes or had not been there to send her off threatened to break her composure with a sob. She clenched her hands into fists, feeling her fragile resolve slowly crumbling.

She couldn't recall how long she had remained seated on the couch or when her co-sisters had escorted her to what felt like the devil's lair. If, by some miracle, she could have summoned the strength, she would have refused to even step into the room-the room of the devil she was not prepared to face for the wedding night.

Any woman in the world would have coveted her position, but for Asmaira, becoming Mrs. Hashmi was a profound torment rather than a stroke of fortune. Married to the city's most eligible bachelor, many would have instantly labeled her a gold digger from a modest background or a cunning woman who had seduced the man of the hour. If only they knew that neither assumption was true in her case. If only they could know her truth.

Asmaira sat rigid, her body tense. The silence in the room was so absolute that, at one point, she could hear her own heart frantically hammering against her ribs out of sheer terror. Afraid of being watched from the shadows of the dimly lit room, she tightly grasped her simple bridal wear, conscious of breathing softly lest that unseen shadow be disturbed. Subconsciously, she knew she was alone, but the room's lack of light-save for the solitary table lamp beside the couch-and the terror of encountering the one person she never wanted to see made it impossible for her to think clearly.

Anyone who truly knew Asmaira understood that she had always been profoundly introverted. Like her plain appearance, her inner world was uncomplicated. She neither harbored grand expectations from anyone nor from life itself, nor did she possess the boldness required to seize control of her own destiny. Her sole dream since childhood had been to make her parents proud. Her sense of duty and gratitude toward her parents far outweighed any sense of self-love. She would sacrifice anything within her power, even abandon her own well-being, for her parents' sake-a fact her parents were painfully aware of. No matter how much they encouraged her to build a life of her own, she consistently placed her parents' needs above her own.