Let Me Hate You

Ever wonder how the supposed best day of your life could turn into a lifelong nightmare? Two people from two different worlds are bound by the same emotion, "HATE," and the "same loved one." Marriage is intended to be an eternal bond filled with love and happiness. This was far from the truth for Asmaira and Amaan. Two broken souls entangled in the game of destiny, ending their dream of everlasting love.

For one, it was a journey of regret that she has to live for the rest of her life. But why?

For the other, he was forced to, yet he promised to seek revenge for sure, for seeking "her" place. Who is Amaan referring to as "her"?

Who is this "loved one" that connects both Asmara and Amaan, and why do they hate each other so much without even meeting each other?

"Please..." was the only word that she could manage to say while trying to get out of his grip and sobbing.

"Please... let... me... go, " she stammered in between her hiccups, shaking her head with pleading eyes and folded hands.

"Don't be afraid, honey! I realized my mistake of not accepting you as my wife, and to mark the start of our marriage, how about I give you something? " He whispered while leaning close to her ear.

Sensing her fright, he placed his hand on her waist while using the other to stroke her cheek. "How about giving you a baby tonight?" he spoke with an evil smirk.

"I know it is your first time, and I promise to be gentle with you, my wife"

For every girl, her marriage is the best day of her life, not to mention the most beautiful day, showered with all the pampering, the endless shopping, blessings even from strangers, and most importantly, being surrounded by people she loves the most, her beloved family and her friends. It is said that a girl will be the most stunning on her wedding day, and why not? After all, extra pampering and care are given to her, and most importantly, the feeling of meeting her soul mate makes her glow.

This all would have been true for Asmaira if it happened a few months ago; however, for Asmaira, it was far from reality. Instead of happiness, she was met with fear, emptiness, and restlessness. Instead of being surrounded by her family, she was surrounded by loneliness. Instead of thinking about her future with her husband, she was scared to finally face him.

Here she sat on a couch in the room for the past 2 hours, yes, two hours since her marriage, two hours since she became Mrs. Hashmi, a title that was more of a torment than a blessing. She didn’t move an inch, nor breathe too loudly, so as not to offend anyone, not that there was anyone around her. She has invariably been an introvert all her life, and her only dream was to make her parents proud. She would do anything or would leave anyone for her parent's sake. Unlike other girls, she never craved attention from anyone; on the contrary, she lost her confidence the moment she tried to get any attention, especially from the opposite sex. She was old school when it came to men. Her neck started aching for keeping her head low for so long, yet she dared not to raise her head. She didn’t want the bad luck of meeting him although he was now her husband. She was not scared to face her future in this big mansion, as she already recognized what would come in her way, but she was scared of not meeting the expectations she set and of not fulfilling her promise no matter how much everybody loathed her.

'Where are you? Why are you not here? Please come and tell me that you will figure out the problem for me as always,' Asmaira thought while a lone tear fell from her eye, remembering her Savior who always protected her in her difficult times since her childhood.

Though she had been crying since the day she said yes to the marriage, she couldn't stop herself from crying anymore. It was her sole decision to get entangled in this marriage whose foundation was founded on nothing but hate.

Finally, she dared to lift her head and observe the room to kill her anxiety. 'I will die of a heart attack even before he confronts me and kills me,' she thought, pushing her black glasses over her nose, trying to calm her nervousness. To her expectation, the room was decorated with class and every bit of it cried out luxury and money. The room was spacious enough to hold a complete 2 BHK apartment, with minimum furniture which included a king-size bed, a sofa, a dresser, and the floor was aligned with grey soft faux carpet. Each corner had a lavender plant, making it stand out against the white background. One corner had a floor-length bookcase with a recliner and a contemporary styled floor lamp, making it a heaven for book lovers. 'Just like she always wanted,' she thought. Thinking about her, she slowly set about observing the room.

Every bit and every corner reminded Asmaira of her. The walls were painted in such a way that once the sun rays fell on them, they illuminated the whole room. Clothes were neatly hung inside a walk-in closet. As 'she' always used to say, 'I would possess a separate room to keep my high-end clothing collection,' and Asmaira used to roll her eyes, thinking how she could talk like a high-class lady when they were from the middle class. She and her so-called dream made Asmaira sigh.

What caught her attention was a bare wall just opposite the king-size bed covered with so many pictures of a couple. Merely by the look of it, you could say there was so much in love, with the brightest of smiles. The girl's smile was so contagious that Asmaira automatically smiled, remembering how charismatic she was. That was her! For a moment, the picture made Asmaira forgot her misery; the emptiness was quickly filled with all the endearing memories of her. Subconsciously, she raised her hand to touch her picture, to feel her as if she were there with her, protecting her like a shield. Asmaira failed to notice someone else's presence in her trance, and before she could hold the picture, an arm came and caught her wrist with an intense force that made her turn to see who it was.

Unfortunately for her, he was right in front of her. The man who she was praying not to ever meet. His face was grim and gloomy, eyes filled with so much hatred that she had to bow her head to not die from his horrible stare. His cold gaze was enough to make her forget the pain she was enduring. This happened to be their first meeting though they were connected before by strong hatred towards each other. That she was scared of him was an understatement because she knew very well what his thoughts were about her and the marriage. Asmaira thought it was stupid for her to be around him. She was naive and timid but not stupid enough to offend him at this stage.

He was the same man from the picture but without any emotions. Her greatest fear, who she never wanted to encounter again in her life, is now her HUSBAND!