Hopeless Romance
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- Parts 34
MatureComplete Sat, Nov 3, 20125h 10m
My country, Alume, was once the wealthiest in the world. It was also the greediest. We borrowed money from another rich and powerful country, Rache. We bought everything from them because it was cheaper and we could get more. We ignored that our money was fueling their army that soon dwarfed our own. We ignored their human rights violations. Then, they demanded we repay all of our loans immediately or they would attack. We couldn't repay them. All of our factories had closed and were demolished because we bought everything from over seas. We couldn't make weapons or vehicles. We even depended on them for food. We lost the war.
The enemy is everywhere now, watching, even in my house. I can’t leave my house, go to school, even my texts are monitored. Great time to fall in love, right? Hopeless? Probably. But, I don’t care.
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Bruised, Broken... Chosen
Her father thought he could cheat me. Borrow what wasn't his, disappear, and leave nothing but a trail of debt in his wake. Men like him never learn-there's always a cost, always someone left to bleed for their mistakes. He thought it would be him. Instead, it's her. His daughter. At first, she was nothing but a message. A way to make him suffer, even if he never came back to see it. I broke her down the way I break everything-piece by piece, scream by scream. I wanted her fear, her pain, the ruin in her eyes every time I came close. She hated me, and I fed on it. That's all I believed in: control, power, the reminder that I own what others abandon. But somewhere between her sobs and her defiance, she changed the rules. She fought me, and I should have killed her for it. Instead, I wanted more. She cried, and instead of silencing her, I listened. She looked at me, even in terror, and for the first time in my life I couldn't look away. I don't believe in love. I never have. Love is weakness, a lie people tell themselves before the knife comes out. But she... she's different. She's sharp where she should be soft. Brave when she should be broken. She makes me hunger in ways that no amount of blood or vengeance ever could. I meant to ruin her. To make her pay for the sins of her father. Now I want to claim her as mine. Not because of love-no, I don't use that word. I don't trust it. But because she drags something out of me I thought was dead. Something dangerous. She wasn't supposed to matter. But she does. And if I have to chain her, break her, and rebuild her until she finally sees me the way I see her, then so be it. She'll be my wife. My possession. My salvation. Even if I have to destroy her first.
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A marriage neither wanted. A hatred neither understands. Two strangers tied by a past that stains everything between them. He never wanted a wife. Especially not her. Cold, distant, and poisoned by assumptions, Amaan enters the forced marriage with one intention- to keep his distance and keep his resentment alive. Asmaira enters with something far heavier- guilt. Not to protect him. Not to save him. But because she knows the truth of what happened... and she cannot bear to confess it. They have never met. But the moment they do, the air turns sharp- full of tension, unspoken accusations, and the kind of hate that feels too much like longing. He despises her for a sin she never committed. She punishes herself for a sin she never confessed. And marriage turns into a battleground where silence is a weapon... and closeness is a threat. In this house, love is impossible. Trust is deadly. But hatred? Hatred is the only thing keeping them alive.
𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐫♡~ (ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ)
╰┈➤ ᴬˡʸᵃ ˢʰⁱᶠᵃ ˣ ᶻᵃⁱᵈ ᴵʳᶠᵃᵈ 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞. ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚ "Want me to read to you?" he asked, voice barely above the hush of dawn. She nodded, nestling closer. He began, the words spilling into the room, wrapping around them like silk. "Wa min ayatihi an khalaqa lakum min anfusikum azwajan..." (And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquility in them...) Alya's lashes fluttered. She could have lived a thousand lifetimes right there. Each one spent simply listening to this. He finally closed the mushaf, looked over at her with eyes so gentle. "You look like your heart is somewhere else habibti" He teased, thumb brushing her cheek. "It's right here," she whispered. "With you. With Him." ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚ She didn't fall in love. She fell into silence. The kind that comes after you've cried so much, your tears forget how to fall. Then came Zaid. He didn't arrive like lightning. He arrived like the adhan-soft, calling, certain. He never looked too long, never said too much. Alya didn't believe in fairy tales. Not after the things she'd endured. She had every reason to run But when the proposal came, she said yes. Not because she was ready. Not because she wasn't scared. But because something about him felt safe. Not the kind of safe that promises no pain, but the kind that holds your hand through it. This isn't a story of falling in love. It's a story of choosing love. Of trusting Allah more than your fears. ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚Complete
Many people nowadays are worrying about their love life, but me, I don't care much about that because my studies are more important right now. Growing up without parents wasn't easy. It took a lot of struggle for me to survive and provide for myself, but I know God has always been there for me. Now, I live as a schoolgirl in the house of one of the most famous and rich families in our city. I'm so grateful because they are kind, humble, and respectful. I have been staying with them for three years, and everything has been fine. My job is to wash the uniforms of their three sons, wash the dishes, and do most of the house chores. I do it because I love my job, and they are the ones supporting my education. I became really close to the boys since we are almost the same age. The two youngest are very close to me, and I know I am their favorite-sometimes even more than their own parents. But the eldest used to be very strict and moody, the type who gets angry even with just a simple question. Still, all of that changed at the right time.
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