Next Day

Next Day
At the dining table, she found herself poking at her food. Her appetite was low, just because
of the thoughts in her mind. She stared at him with her side-eye to know about his mood.
She witnessed that he was eating calmly.
He hadn't addressed her disobedience last night yet. Also, he was talking to her normally.
Suspicious, she thought. Different assumptions were swirling in her mind.
Maybe he won't punish her, and he has let it go?
Maybe he would let her go and not put her in the cell again?
Or maybe he was waiting for the right time to punish her, to wreck her so badly that she
would cry rivers of blood tears by the time he would be done with her...
The last assumption made a bolt of panic hit her. Her mouth hung open as she instantly
turned her face towards him.
He looked back at her and noticed the fear in her eyes. He noticed how her face was
emitting raw fear.
He knew she was overthinking really badly, so he fed her the bite on the spoon he was going
to take, filling her half-opened mouth.
“Eat well, little lady,” Shehryaar muttered in a low tone.
She immediately nodded her head and looked down at her plate of food. She became too
struck to talk, and as she looked around, their gazes were on her, and she felt embarrassed.
She was no longer able to sustain attention on her as she looked down and fondled her food.
If it were her old version, and her husband had fed her like this, she would have kissed him
back in front of everyone. She used to be this bold, but it was now long gone. That part of
her was already dead.
"Sheharzaad, daughter, why don't you make breakfast for your husband?" Asma said,
gaining her attention.
She looked at her confused. "I... I didn't know that," her voice wasn't above a whisper, and
she felt like she made the mistake of not cooking food for him. She felt like every day she
was failing at expectations that would please him.
"It must come from your heart. Of taking care of your husband. If you truly love a person,
you take care of them, and it's just the start of your wedding, but you're not fulfilling your
duties," Asma said.
Sheharzaad looked down. "Actually, I was not feeling well this morning. Hence, I overslept,"
she muttered in an almost inaudible voice.
“Well, every woman who got married wasn't feeling physically fascinating the next morning
after their wedding, but still, she performed her duties towards her husband because of the
love and care she carries towards her husband,” Asma uttered in a little mocking tone.
Sheharzaad was dumbfounded upon hearing her words. Panic within her began to rise,
making her breathing uneven.
“I am so sorry,” she uttered in a very small tone.
Shehryaar was watching this exchange, clenching his jaw hard. He felt angry at how his aunt
even had the audacity to talk to his wife like that.
"You know your mother-in-law never cooked food or took proper care of her husband. I
hope it's not the case with you, daughter," Asma uttered with a tch sound.
Chills rose up her spine when she saw Shehryaar's hold tightening around the fork.
"You should not fail in your duties like your mother-in-law did. You're already falling behind
an-"
"Uncle," Shehryaar said in a deadly manner, looking towards Haroon, Asma's husband,
"respectfully, ask your wife to keep quiet. I don't want to address her directly."
Haroon reprimanded his wife to stop, but she didn't.
"But I'm saying the truth... did she ever take care of his father?"
"Ammi, stop," Haseeb cut her off.
"But I-"
"Asma, please," Haroon uttered, but—
Shehryaar banged the utensils on the table. Sheharzaad, who sat next to him, flinched so
hard. Her heart leaped to her throat. Her heartbeat went erratic when he stood up and then
looked down at Sheharzaad.
"Go to our room," he ordered, and she hurriedly stood up, rushing into the room.
He looked at her retreating form. He closed his eyes and exhaled some air, calming his
nerves. He then sat down on his chair.
“Now, Aunt Asma, please enlighten me on what your problem with my wife is,” Shehryaar
said in a daunting manner, pinning his grey diamonds on his aunt.
“It was... I was... I...” Asma stuttered badly.
“SPEAK GOD DAMMIT!" He roared at his aunt.
Asma flinched at his tone, and her eyes were getting teary from the humiliation she was
feeling at the dining table in front of everyone.
“Do not speak to my wife in that manner,” Shehryaar deadpanned at his aunt.
“I am so sorry,” Asma uttered in a broken manner.
“Apologize to my wife, not me.” Shehryaar grabbed his coat and left the dining area.
“Shehryaar beta, finish your breakfast,” his grandfather said.
“Later,” he replied shortly and left the dining area.
\---
She heard the sound of plates clashing against the floor, which made her steps fast. She
thanked God a thousand times that Shehryaar's anger wasn't directed towards her.
She strolled left and right in her room. The room was far from the dining area, so she wasn't
able to hear any voices, but she was so tensed, biting the knuckles of her fist out of
apprehension.
Panic seized her brain almost when she heard footsteps approaching, and she was sure it
was Shehryaar.
"Oh god!" she said to herself in panic, looking around the room, so something could save
her.
She staggered towards the bed, cocooned herself in the blanket, and acted as if she was
sleeping, but her whole body was shaking.
She knew Shehryaar was coming.
"Oh god! Please save me... please... please save me," she whispered prayers and didn't
realize when the door opened and the footsteps came closer.
She suddenly became quiet, sensing someone's presence, but through her mouth, she was
releasing shaky breaths. The blanket was taken off her face, and it felt to her like it was the
end of the world.
She felt him caressing her hair as he placed his lips on her temple, kissing her before
pecking her earlobe.
"Don't leave this room without my permission," he whispered, and she involuntarily
nodded. She heard the door shut as he left.