Asmaira

"No, please...... I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't know." 

Asmaira was crying in her sleep, mumbling unconsciously.

"Please......"

Still clad in her wedding dress, she was cowering in her nightmare.

"Don't leave me. I am sorry, " she kept crying, holding herself together while lying on the floor.

With her messy scattered around here, she was shivering with her eyes closed. One look at her, and anybody can guess she was in pain even in her deep slumbers. Her face was covered with beads of sweat mixed with her tears. Not a day had passed when she didn't have nightmares since she heard that news—the news which turned her world upside down. The news, which caused an invisible hole in her heart that never let her be at peace, the restlessness never left her since that day, and no matter how much she tried, she could never fill that hole. 

Never in her life has she been so helpless, and to make it worse, her savior was also not there with her.

"Raina!" She screamed, jolting up from her sleep.

With her ragged breathing and hazing vision, she sat up, wrapping her trembling hands around herself. It took her time to come out of her trance into reality. She placed a hand on her chest to calm the rapid heartbeat and swallowed many times to moisten her parched throat. She glanced around and found herself sitting on the floor exactly where she hide from her husband.

Husband?!

As if hit by a thunderbolt, her body started trembling for a different reason.

The day she agreed to her marriage, she wasn’t oblivious to what she was getting into but what mattered to her even in her despair was the promise she made to herself. She knew after her marriage, every day would be a battle where she had to face her fear. However, more than her fear, the emptiness inside her was haunting. And the key to her solace was getting married to Amaan; no matter how much he loathed her, she would still not give up. This time she was the only one to help herself; the one to stand up for herself. 

For the past eight months, like a coward, she had tried running away from her problem only to realize it was futile. The more she delayed it, the less time she had. When the opportunity arose, and Amaan’s family sent a marriage proposal, she immediately grabbed it. 

She wanted—no, she needed—forgiveness from Raina but knowing that it was impossible now, she chose the next best thing, getting married to Amaan. Nobody could understand what she was going through, including her family; nobody knew why she agreed to the marriage, nobody knew her motive behind making the decision. Everybody thought she had changed. She changed into a woman who was tempted by the luxury that her rich husband could provide. Her own father, who knew her in and out, thought his daughter had fallen for Amaan’s money, an assumption she didn't bother to correct or justify. 

She did change, but not like people were exaggerating. 

Yes, she was desperate to get married to Amaan but not for his money but to find the solution to her emptiness. Sucking a heavy breath, she stood up from the ground, her muscle aching from sleeping out in the cold weather and on a hard surface. Straightening her crumpled dress, she took cautious steps towards the door leading to the room. Hiding behind the door, she surveyed the complete room to see any trace of him. Intuitively her eyes fell on the bed, expecting to see him sleeping there. As she wasn’t aware of the time, she prayed inwardly nobody was expecting her for breakfast. 

It wasn’t like she was a normal bride, shying to face the family after spending her first night with her husband. It was more like she didn’t want to offend the people with whom she would be staying and ruin the reason she came there in the first place. 

She let go of the breath she was holding when Amaan was nowhere to be seen. She tiptoed inside the room and glanced around to make sure she was alone. She peeked inside the first door only to see an empty bathroom. Moving to the next door leading to the closet, she found it empty too.

Instead of letting her guard down, she immediately moved into action. He was not there in the room, which doesn’t mean he won’t come back, and before he returned, she had to freshen up. With that thought, she quickly grabbed her stuff that was scattered all over the floor. Grabbing the suitcase she brought from her home, she stuffed her belonging into it before hiding it under the rack away from human eyes. If she had to live with him, making herself as invisible as possible was the key. At least till she attains her task

With adrenaline pumping through every vein of her, her hands couldn’t stop trembling nor her palpitating heart. Once she was sure, she rushed into the bathroom, making extra sure it was locked lest he barged in while she was showering. Riding on anticipation, she couldn’t help glancing towards the door every now and then, fearing that Amaan would pop up any minute. 

Asmaira is an epitome of simplicity with a cute heart-shaped face, button nose, and small lips. Her untamed long lock that was the shade of light brown hair falls to her waist. No matter how much she tries, her hair could never settle, as if it has its own brain. She has big brown eyes, clear as crystal; one could see her soul just by looking at her eyes. The same goes with her face; whatever she was thinking was always clearly visible on her face. Her family used to make fun of her for being an open book that anybody could see through.

Torn between whether to dress or not, she was lost in contemplation. As her nature demanded, she didn’t want to doll herself up for her new family, nor she wants to come out as a clumsy-looking woman. Eventually, she thought it was better to be herself than to pretend. With water still dripping from her hair, she dashed out of the bathroom only to halt in her tracks when there was a knock. Assuming it to be Amaan, she covered her mouth to stop her shriek; however, he was not a gentleman to knock and then enter. 

Another knock, and she got startled. 

“Ma’am?” a female voice caught her attention.

Hesitantly she walked up to the door and opened it just a slit size. She licked her lips, a sign of her anxiousness seeing a woman in her mid-thirties looking at her. 

“Good afternoon. I’m Maya, and I will be escorting you for today.”

Maya furrowed her brows in deep concentration when she saw Asmaira’s lips moving but couldn’t hear her voice.

“Sorry?” 

Asmaira cleared her throat and mumbled, “What time is it?”

“Twelve in the afternoon,” although baffled, Maya still replied. 

Her confusion heightened when she saw Asmaira’s eyes going wide, and she rushed inside without telling her to come in. Hesitantly Maya entered the room and saw Asmaira rushing in and out of the bathroom. Her movements were frantic as if she was in a hurry, but for what?

On the other hand, Asmaira was busy hiding any traces of her. If it was up to her, she would have wiped the entire bathroom and vacuumed the air of her scent for that devil to not recollect her existence. The thought that she was late on her first day also worried her. It was not that she was set to impress her new family, but her tardiness looked like she deliberately didn’t care for them. 

So unlike her, Maya couldn’t help thinking to herself. 

She once again glanced at busied Asmaira, who didn’t look like she was a new bride. 

“Feriha ma’am wanted to meet you,” she said, what Asmaira didn’t let her finish earlier.

“What?” Asmaira whispered.