LET ME HATE YOU

Surprise

"Are you sure about this, Asmaira? Is this your final decision?" Asmaira's father, Ehsan, inquired.

They sat in her room. With her gaze lowered and the familiar habit of licking her lips, she seemed tentative, perhaps second-guessing her choice. Ehsan was certain his daughter, who had always sought his or his wife's counsel before any major step, would be unable to decide and, as was typical, would ask him to choose. He was, however, taken aback when Asmaira replied with a single, firm word: "Yes."

Unable to contain his fury, he stormed out of her room, leaving a visibly shaken Asmaira behind. No one was privy to the conversation between the father and daughter or the nature of the decision. The moment he departed, his face was etched with disappointment, while regret clouded hers. Yet, neither of them brought up the subject again.

Across the city, Amaan was perched on his couch, a rare moment when he wasn't immersed in his usual intake of alcohol. He was in his penthouse, anticipating his mother's call. It was unprecedented for one of his schemes to fail. By seemingly giving his 'opponent' the upper hand, he cleverly sidestepped the blame for breaking his promise and, simultaneously, managed to extricate himself from the entanglement of marriage.

He didn't feel the need to sip his scotch; he already felt light-headed with the anticipation of his imminent victory. This plan should stop his family from pressuring him to marry and finally put an end to the incessant nagging to "move on." He could already picture the scene at Asmaira's house when his proposal arrived. Her immediate, certain 'No' would simplify everything for him.

He mentally prepared to feign complete ignorance of Asmaira's predicted refusal, wary of making his mother suspicious of his motives. He never intended to hurt his mother, nor could he fulfill the rash promise he had made in a moment of emotional intensity.

His train of thought was interrupted by his phone ringing. A familiar smirk played on his lips as his mother's name flashed on the screen. He purposefully let it ring four more times, not wanting to appear too eager. He was already celebrating his success internally before he even answered, only to receive the shock of his life.

"What?"

"Asmaira accepted your proposal. They want a simple wedding and wish to hold it as soon as possible."

Amaan barely registered anything after his mother said Asmaira had accepted. He shot forward, clutching the phone tighter than usual. "I think I misheard you, Ma. What did you say?"

Feriha calmly repeated, "Asmaira accepted your proposal."

She allowed the news to sink in, waiting. The sound of his ragged breathing on the other end was exactly what she had expected.

"She's okay with being my second wife, even though this is her first marriage?" He struggled to maintain control of his anger, determined not to lash out in front of his mother, whom he loved and respected.

"Yes," came his mother's composed reply.

How? What? Why? His mind instantly reeled with questions. How could his meticulous calculation have gone so wrong?

Still in disbelief, he assumed his mother was playing a trick to manipulate him into moving on with his life.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he couldn't help but ask aloud.

Feriha couldn't suppress a smile at his evident astonishment. She found it amusing that her son thought he could deceive her and get away with it. Amaan didn't realize that she had already anticipated all his maneuvers; he had walked straight into her trap, not the other way around.

The moment he presented his condition, she knew exactly what the result would be, yet she had pretended to be passive, fearing her son would see through her strategy.