LET ME HATE YOU

Regret

"No, you didn't."

Asmaira screamed when Amaan violently shoved her onto the bed, tearing the end of her saree off her body as she fell. Clinging desperately to her loosened blouse to prevent it from slipping, she landed on the bed, holding the scrap of fabric as if her life depended on it.

Amaan glared at her exposed back, his rage intensifying when he realized he had momentarily frozen at the sight. Furious at his momentary slip in control, he threw the saree on the floor and leaned over the bed. Asmaira, attempting to scramble away, shrieked as he grabbed her ankle and ruthlessly pulled her back toward him.

"No!" she cried, trying to kick his hand away with her free leg.

"You wanted to take Raina's place. I will give it to you tonight," he announced, grabbing both her ankles.

He forcefully turned her onto her back and spread her legs, placing himself between them to pin her down and halt her struggles.

"And every night. You will understand marriage is not a game, and every night I will be happy to make sure you remember that," he growled.

Still holding her blouse with one forearm, she used the other to push against him. Simultaneously, she rubbed her heels against the sheets, struggling beneath him with a surge of terror. This action only pressed her body harder against his. When pushing failed, she arched her back, attempting to throw him off.

Grunting at her useless resistance, Amaan seized both her wrists and pinned them above her head. Instinctively, she twisted her head and bit him hard, expecting his grip to slacken. However, Amaan was fixated on the small mole on her skin, oblivious to her action; he couldn't resist biting the skin where the mole was before roughly sucking on it. She screamed in agony, her cries echoing off the walls, but he remained utterly unaffected.

With no means of escape, Asmaira pleaded, feeling the intense friction between their bodies, "Please don't do this to me. I'll leave your house and will not ever come back."

"With all the efforts you took, you deserve to be my wife, and as a caring husband, I should fuck you till your greed is content," he mocked her with a cruel smile.

She squeezed her eyes shut, weeping in defeat as she felt his lips sucking and marking her neck. She thrashed her fisted wrists in a desperate struggle, but it only fueled his anger. She sobbed, realizing her chastity was moments away from being ripped away, and the violation was being forced by none other than her own husband. She lay helpless beneath him, dressed only in her underskirt and a single, loose piece of cloth covering her chest.

The weight of guilt, remorse, and repentance she had buried inside her for months erupted as she found herself caged on the bed by Amaan. It had never truly bothered her that he misunderstood her reasons for marrying him. But never in her worst nightmares did she imagine he would one day use brute force, blinded by his need for vengeance. She hadn't realized that her silence would only make her appear as a jealous woman, greedy to steal her sister's life.

Perhaps this was the karma for abandoning her sister when she was most needed. The very sister who had always stood by her, who loved her unconditionally. When it was time to reciprocate that love, Asmaira had brutally cut her off without hearing her final wish or words.

Maybe she was selfish again, only thinking about her own repentance and not considering the impact of her presence on Amaan's life. She was solely focused on atoning for her sins by caring for Raina's last living memory—her son—instead of questioning if she even deserved that role.

"I hurt my sister that day... and... there hasn't been a day I haven't regretted it," she whispered, lost in a trance.

She shouldn't have cursed Raina that day. She should have let her finish her last words instead of lashing out at her for something she was completely unaware of.