Her Hacker Husband

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆 - 𝐴 𝐽𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

The weighed paining down on my chest lessened. I felt like, I lost a heavy part of mine. I saw the box disappearing into the mist as I spit out all the things kept captive in the cage. I felt like a bird ready to fly".

Zohra Hayat

I desire to be loved, like how innocence love the fire, for I am the fire.

~

Zohra has been living all her life finding it difficult to differentiate between her dreams and reality. The dreams that she hated back than are starting to become her escape now. The same dreams from which she has now build her world; where she escapes every now and then. But, as the time passes they have started to eat her soul little by little. And she has now wondering in her dreams with horror stuck in her heart coiling around terrified spine.

Will she be able to free herself from her dreams where nightmares are slowly eating her alive? Or will she surrender her self between the fight of her heart and mind?

Join her this journey of Zohra Hayat to know will she be saved or be eaten alive by her dreams in the daylight.

"The nightmares drag me to the its sea,

There is a darkness where I can't see me,"

♤

Author's POV

He loves to chase the chaotic wind. Which has the power to destroy humankind in the blink of an eye.

The cold air hitting his bare face was what he liked the most. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. Jaw tight, looking at the darkness in front of him as he continued to drive on the lone street. The gushing wind hitting his cheeks. Five O'clock beard shadowing his half face, making him look more intimidating than he already was. Cold air makes his skin go cold and numb. Lips moved as he murmured prayers under his breath.

He didn't like it, the feelings he felt. He wanted to let go of them, not to hold them. Even after so many years, he still breathed the air of the past. His shaking hand made it obvious for the nature around him, about how he felt.

His heart was going at the speed he never felt it would be possible; after all he was going to meet his wife, finally after two months. His mind went numb at the memories of the past, making his knuckles turn white more. The reason for his down going reputation.

"May Allah give me patience." Muttering under his breath he took a sharp turn in the dark alley.

The sudden burst of memory triggered his brain making his hands go numb. Car lost all control and he forgot how to breathe.

Again.

He murmured a quick prayer, asking for patience and strength to let this relationship turn out in his favor. He always wants to forget them, but there is always something which makes him remind them of his past and because of that he can't live his life like he lived before.

The brewing hatred increased with each passing second as he neared the place, which was the cause of the destruction in his life.

"I hate it here." A low grumble escaped under his breath as he rubbed his face. Inhaling a huge amount of breath he rubbed his face, again. Somehow, slow breathing calmed him and he scrutinized around himself. He was at the right place at the right time, but for the wrong thing.

Moving out of the car he locked it and made his way towards the big mansion. His steps falling firm and hard on the cobblestone pathway leading him towards his past, which he wanted to destroy. Those dark brown eyes flashed in his brain making his lips twitch upwards. Pearly white canines shining under the moonlight. The menacing smile stared at the heavy, intricate door in front of him.

He pressed on the doorbell as the wind gushed towards him, caressing his hairs so softly ever; once like his mother used to do. And a small smile formed on his face on the memory.

"Assalamualaikum." His gruff voice rang in the atmosphere around him making him cringe at his own voice. A frown marring on his face.

"Wa'alaikum assalam! Dear son-in-law. We were waiting for you!" Exclaimed the man with his pot-like belly hanging out and the crisp white shirt fitted well around. Fateh Hussein was a rich man with a wise mind, he knew what to do and how to do it. He was a cunning fox.

Everything around him screamed old-money, luxury, and enchanting miracles. The shining material choked his soul. He felt his throat tightened as he saw all the maids lined up for his welcome. The fake courtesy of them.

The highness and brightness was screaming from every corner around him. He felt uncomfortable standing under that big chandelier. Yellow bright hues of light shone in every corner screaming royalty, bathing the place like a fairytale he once saw in a movie. The fairytales and movies he despised.

"It's so good to see you again Waqas Rehan," Fateh's wife chirped towards the man in his early thirties. Her chirping voice itching in his ears.

"Come inside." She ushered him inside towards the huge sofa, making grimaces take place over his face.

The air was thick with tension as they sat across each other. Fateh's eyes glinted with something as he scrutinized Waqas.

An aura oozed from him. Even his cunning abilities couldn't pinpoint what was missing.

"I still think I saw you somewhere." The old man remarked, making her wife stare at the man sitting leisurely on the sofa. The darkness glinted in his eyes, scaring her.

"It's a pleasure to know that. However, I have never met a family like yours before.

It isn't up to my taste." Fateh knew what Waqas was implying. The way his twisted smile slashed into his cheekbones, Fateh doubted his decisions about this man.

A loud roar of laughter escaped through Fateh's mouth.

"Your jokes are too funny." To let the conversation go on Fateh dismissed his thoughts with a laugh.

"How is your business going on?" His wife diverted the topic as she sensed the air pricking on her skin.

"I don't think your husband did a great research before marrying his daughter to someone. Or if he did, he didn't make it clear to you.

I am a psychiatrist. I have my own clinic which is successful." The corner of his lips turned upward as he fixed his sleeves and answered the couple politely. Waqas enjoyed creating a good show for himself.

Fateh and his wife's face turned red with his words. If Waqas wasn't Zohra's husband, he would have made sure that Waqas didn't breathe another day. Alas, his dream lay abandoned as the maid walked over the entrance to announce about the dinner time.

"First I would like to use the washroom." He voiced out his words, before anyone could say anything. The unwanted feelings crawled on his back making him have a thought of running away and never coming back here.

"Sure Hun, Misbah will show you the way. Go Misbah." The love from the voice made his guts churn. Controlling his unfavorable feelings for them, he let the maid walk in front of him, leading him towards the bathroom. The politeness this family offered choked him.

"Thank you." He politely thanked her with a curt nod and went inside to do his business.

♤

Sitting down at the very corner, he waited for his wife to ascend down the stairs. He was sitting far for the dinner talk but still heard the chattering around him which annoyed his brain cells. The slow murmurs grow louder by each passing second. Gripping the fork he started having his chicken alfredo pasta without paying any attention to the ongoing chatter; forgetting about his bride.

"Assalamualaikum." His ears perked up listening to her familiar voice. Slowly lifting his eyes he saw her smiling brightly like the moon. Vicious feelings coiled in his guts, making him curse himself, he hardened his eyes.

...

Ignoring the shudder going through her spine by seeing his intense gaze pinning her, she neared the table with soft steps.

"Oh, Zohra, dear! How are you?" Asked her father to raise the spoon for another bite. The beaming smile choked the life out of Zohra. She wished for her sister to be here.

Waqas rolled his eyes at his small courtesy.

"I am better than before." Answering she walked with slow steps towards him, timidly, he stood up and pulled her chair out for her. Passing him a gentle, soft smile she sat down, while he continued having his meal.

Loud thunderous voices strike against the clouds making them look out the window.

"I guess a storm is about to hit. It's better that we stay inside." Suggested her father. Lines of frown marring on his face as he gingerly looked at the dark clouds.

He grumbled under his breath but didn't let it show on his face how unsatisfied he was with the weather. The bright hues of life were suffocating and he wanted to just leave this place. Grimacing over his life choices, he took another bite.

He noticed her struggling for the bigger bowl of curry. Looking around he found no one paying attention to her. Without thinking, his hand moved forward to help her.

Their hands brushed making him yank his hand back which resulted in dropping some bits of curry on his clean, white, linen shirt.

He stood up abruptly making all the heads turn towards him.

"I will help him." Zohra softly offered and quietly took him to her room.

He was alert all the time and walked steadily behind her, gingerly. His hands shoved in pocket as he scrutinized the bright lights and the show pieces which didn't make any sense. The carpeted floor didn't let the walls know about his small walk with his wife.

"There's the washroom." She gestured towards the door on the left. As they entered her room.

His senses were high on alert as he firmly stepped inside the bathroom. He washed his sleeve and sighed seeing a yellow mark already making its place, staining his once white cuff. Avoiding making eye contact in the mirror, he rubbed the fabric hard, thinning his lips. He never saw or made eye contact with himself, in the past few years.

It only made it worse for him. But he gazed at the fancy white marble of the sink and the fancy cabinets located around, not paying any more attention when he came out.

He came out and took in the details of her room. White with golden hues on the side walls.

"You have a good theme." Commenting, he initiated the conversation making her hum and nod her head.

"You know what is better?" She asked him with a gentle smile. Something untamable shining in her eyes.

He nodded his head in no while narrowing his eyes on her. Cautiousness dripped from his gaze. He almost stepped back as she leaned forward.

Holding his sleeve she dragged him to the other side of the room in front of what looked like an old wooden cupboard. She pulled the door open and dragged him inside the darkness.

Seeing all dark around him his breaths quickened but soon he composed himself when she switched on the lights making the room bath in the hues of white, striking white, which hurts one's eyes but he was amazed by the beauty of the hidden library, it was like one of the royal libraries he had heard of from the people about. The shelves of books were made of white marble and two walls were filled with them. In the center of the room was kept a purple wooden coffee table which had so many drawers in it.

She left his side and started telling him about the books, the coffee table, the chandelier and the big wall window on the right with purple curtains hanging on it. She drew open the curtains. And saw the rain pouring outside, already.

He was amazed by the beauty of the library. Tuning out her words, he caressed the book spines.

"This is my favorite place." She informed him, making him give a curt nod.

Zohra was undoubtedly sad with her husband's no-nonsense attitude. She animatedly talked about everything in the library trying to get a response out of him but failed miserably. She accepted her fate the day gave her consent. But, still about Waqas, something doesn't feel right. She doubted her decisions as well as her life's trick.

"I am lost in the whispers of headless beings,

There are wings on me unknown to me."

♤

Dinner went quiet with hushed glances and clicking of crockery. Waqas couldn't help but stay alert. Swiping his gaze across the dinner room he managed to empty his plate, all the while staying alert.

Zohra felt timid and nervous sitting beside him. She felt his eyes boring holes into her skull, she was so near to running away from the dinner but she knew that wouldn't end up good for her. Like always, she played the role of the goody two shoes and sat quiet. The murmurs hitting her ears every now and then making her fist her gown in a tight grip which didn't go unnoticed by Waqas.

She was fast to stand and sprint when she found everyone standing up.

Her mother chuckled, resting her arm on Fateh's arm,- "She is shy."

"As always." Fateh barked a laugh at her remark and shook his head.

Turning to Waqas he suggested thinning his lips on his narrowed eyes,- "I hope you are staying."

"Weather left no choice for me." Murmuring an answer he turned his back to Fateh and walked in the direction where Zohra sprinted away earlier. His calculating gaze takes in every intricate design, every maid's face, every family member's face. Veins burning with the rushing blood making him shake his head and climb up the stairs.

Everyone retired to their room after dinner leaving no plausible choice to stay and chat.

♤

"Do you like reading?" She initiated a conversation between them in the middle of a dark room with darkness falling upon them in the room. She was nervous but masked it well with her talks.

He turned towards her yet he couldn't look at her face because of darkness. Tilting his head he glanced over her form on bed. He was lenient with her, letting her take the bed while he rested on the huge couch in her room, when she asked him to not sleep with her. His presence was enough to intimidate over her senses.

"I love to read, reading flows in my blood. I once read a book in which there was an Angel who was supposed to protect the male lead and she died because of the plot. I remember crying till evening that day-" She ranted, her hands making animated figures, clearly ignoring his lack of attention.

"Do you have insomnia?" He asked, cutting her off and she went quiet for a while.

"I am scared of sleeping. Those creatures haunt me." She answered, gripping the sheets tightly.

She knew it was not in her deen to fear. But, she was not frightened of what those creatures will do to her; she was frightened of how it would affect her mind. She didn't want to lose her mind over something she doesn't like.

"Do you know you are my alternative bride?" he asked, staring ahead of him.

His question pierced her heart because all she wanted was a healthy relationship with her husband. She knew promises were fake, hence didn't make one for this relationship. It wasn't like she willingly stepped ahead to take reins of her fate. Her fate pushed her into this.

She never knew it would be that hard to accept everything. Hands cold and stiff as she laid there with thoughts whirling around everywhere. There wasn't a need to tell about her nervousness, it showed in her eyes and her fingers as they tightened over the sheets.

Meeting her own husband after two months of their marriage with only thought of everything being alright, but sometimes everything does not fall back into its place rather than it falls just to scatter around more.

She stayed silent at his question. Overwhelmed with the situation, she adjusted her pillow trying to act sleepy.

"I just want to let you know that I believe in whatever happens, happens for a reason. Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta'ala wanted you to be my bride and I don't want to sadden Him by losing you.

Even if I have to marry a substitute who is mentally ill." Those weren't just mere words, those were daggers. He made his point about where she belonged in his life.

"I was left there without any option. Either it was marrying you or making my family suffer from embarrassment." Zohra's voice sounded too strained. Empty with any emotions she could gather at this moment. Eyes snapped shut as she remembered the dreadful moment. Blinking away the wetness she longed to be alone for a while.

"Zohra, save your family from the dirt your sister is splashing on us." Her mother's voice cut through the silent room making her breath hitch.

"Why is it only me who cleans the dust of her storms? I wasn't the one dying to marry a psychiatrist. I am not gonna marry him." She yelled. Her throat itching from the time she has been yelling, for just a mere 'no'.

"I don't care Zohra what you want to do or not. I am your father and you will do as I say." He hissed, pacing back and forth. Frowns lining on his forehead.

"That's what you have been doing all the time, right? Tell me I am wrong." Fateh knew what Zohra was talking about but no emotions showed in his eyes. Not even regret.

His lips curled into a menacing smile, as he slowly stepped near her like a predator. Terror building in her heart seeing his evil smile.

"You will marry Waqas. Today." She opened her mouth to argue again but was stopped by his other words.

"Or when I found out where Lateefa is hiding, I am going to do what I am doing." Expressions fell from her face as she tried to breath but found no oxygen left. Something building in her lungs making it harder for her to breathe as those words registered in her brain. Gulping down the lump, she tried to stand tall, but stumbled making her mother rush to her side.

Horrifying memories played their roles making her colour turn pale and breathed frantically.

"You w-won't do-o t-hat." Her low whisper couldn't be heard if he wasn't standing close to her.

"I will. But if you get this into your thick head and agree to marry Waqas this instant. I promise you I won't even care about her." The words rolled out slowly from his mouth making her breath hitch.

"Or you know-"

"I-I will, I will Ma-rry h-him." Stuttering, she fell limp against her mother's arms, making her clutch Zohra's arms in tight grip.

"Get her ready." Barking a command, he paced out of the room with his hands busy lighting a cigarette.

That was the moment she stepped out of her little world and accepted what came to her.

"So, does it mean that if your family will throw you to the wolves, you would happily be their meal?" His voice slashed through the thick air.

Frown marred on her face,- "You don't know what it is like to be me. No one will ever know." She snapped back at him. Her back straightened as she sat to look at him.

Waqas glared at her remark, but remained hushed.

Huffing she laid back down on the mattress. Again, the throbbing silence made the air thick with tension. Unable to get any sleep. She sat up, aware of a pair of eyes, she made her way to the library and grabbed the book she was reading.

He chuckled, pitying her.

"Did you just 'chuckle' at me?" A question weighed heavy on her tongue.

"Is it forbidden to laugh?" She sensed the heavy sarcasm from his voice and narrowed her eyes on him. Again, she curled her fingers into her palm. Nails digging into soft flesh.

"I have never seen a man laugh." She cringed, 'What the hell am I talking about?' Questioning herself she snapped her eyes closed.

"I laugh, because I am a real man." He answered as he tried to comprehend the sudden change in her behaviour. His eyes captured her small acts.

"Just because you haven't heard a man laugh before, doesn't mean that no man will laugh." His voice cut through the thick silence, narrowing his eyes on her little form.

Embarrassed, she avoided meeting his eyes.

"And here I thought you were smart, tsk." He stared at her, making the heat of embarrassment crawl on her skin.

"I never encountered a man like this-"

"What do you mean by that?" His voice hardened as he cut off her words.

"Let me speak," sucking in a deep breath she muttered in the silence, aware of his overbearing presence.

"Waqas, I never talked to any boy let alone a man. It is new and sudden to me. Just ignore if I ever cross my boundaries. I am still learning about this relationship." The words were heavy and it made the knot tug harder in her guts. Her fingers fumbled with the sheets aware of the man laying on the couch.

She has never been comfortable in any man's presence. Neither she was allowed to talk nor she took any interest in any man. The air suffocated her, she felt the temperature rising.

"What do you mean, you never talked to any man before?" He turned on his side, making his black locks shadow his eyes.

There was some familiarity in his eyes that she had seen before. But she knew that she had never met this man before, not ever. However, those squinting green eyes were familiar. Maybe it was a dream again or reality.

"And I thought that you know about my illness." She gladly returned his remark.

"Hmm." Humming he went quiet.

She could sense the air thickening. Even in the cold weather the beads of sweat rolled down her spine. Clenching her fist she didn't wait for his reply and shut the book close which was kept on her stomach.

The silence was thick and dread coiled in her spine letting it make home even in the presence of another human. She knew what was coming next, if she closed her eyes and slept.

The air, the stars, the sky, the moon and the walls of the room pitied her soul. They wept when no one could hear or see on the poor soul that was burdened with her burned dreams.

Images flashed in front of her eyes, eyes going wide as she gasped for air. She couldn't let the man know what was coming next. It terrified her soul.

Hastily she threw away the duvet with shaky hands and stumbled on the floor gaining Waqas's attention.

He glanced at her, narrowing his eyes on her shaky hands.

She rummaged in the cabinets in her room searching for the bottle of medicine. But the small bottle was nowhere to be found. It lay hidden somewhere in the room.

Zohra grew anxious and panicked by each second. She remembered keeping the bottle safely, how could she lose it so easily. The cold sweat beads rolling down her spine.

Her stomach churned at the empty cabinets. Tears pricked in her eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath she stepped back with shaky hands. A voice rumbled through the silence making her breath hitch. Her cold hands fisting her soft nightgown. Shallow breaths rang around her.

"Zohra, is something wrong?" Waqas raised his upper body seeing her act so terrified.

"N-nothing." Whispering, she walked into the library leaving Waqas eyeing the closed door.

Waqas was sure there was something dangerously wrong with her, it was so wrong that he could sense it in the air, even when she was gone.

His thoughts were messed up as he straightened his back on the couch with unruly hairs. Eyes narrowed as he stared at the ceiling. Eyebrows furrowed hard as he listened to the voices coming from the library.

Exhaustion creeped up to his mind making him sleepy. He closed his eyes and let the darkness of sleep engulf him.

Cold snow numbed his body making him rub his arms to provide himself a little warmth. He looked around and found himself lying on cold snow with nothing on his body but shorts. Dark night with no stars fell in front of his eyes, scaring him to the core of his heart.

The pain burned his body, it stroked into his muscle like a needle. The boyish features of his face frowned with pain as he curled more into the snow, forming a ball. Hot tears slid down his eyes, as he sobbed.

He felt terrified and terribly numb. His muscles aching from numbness caused by the snow.

Fluent words of Ayat-Al-kursi flew out his mouth. His eyes flew open suddenly. It was not even an hour and he just woke up. Cold sweat beds formed on his forehead ran down all along to his jaw. Old feelings renewed the fears in his heart.

Jerking his head to the bed he saw it empty. He inhaled heavy and deep breaths to calm himself and rubbed his face.

He couldn't sleep now. Not after the nightmare. He never sleeped after his nightmare. Waqas stood and strode to the closed door of the library. Confusion morphed as he wondered about why and where she was inside the library.

'What if she was a sorceress?' A thought crossed his mind and he wondered if he did the right thing by marrying here.

"Zohra." he called her name out loud, banging on the door.

There was a rustle inside the library then a click. The door opened with a creak.

There she stood with red eyes and a tear- stricken face.

"What happened-" Before Waqas could phrase his question, she hissed, making him tilt his head on her new behaviour.

"What do you want?" Switching her leg she craned up her neck to meet his green pupil almost black in the darkness.

"Why are you in the library?" He questioned this time, securing his hand on the door but not pushing it away.

"Whatever the hell I do. It's none of your business. Go back to your sleep." Gritting her teeth she tried to close the door, that was then Waqas pushed the door open making her stumble back from the force.

Angry tears reflecting in her eyes as she thinned her lips. Squinting his eyes, he stepped near, a little too much near for her liking.

"Tell me what's wrong? I will help you."

"Because that's your job." Her snap made anger rise in his veins and he hushed that anger.

"Even if I am doing it because of my job, it's benefiting you too." Words fell off slowly, as if he was talking to a child.

Keeping her lips close, she stood still trying to hold back in everything. Her control runs on thin ice as she bites her lower lip, drawing out blood from it. Metallica taste of the blood swept over her tongue making her leave her lips

Djinns. He thought and stepped inside the huge library.

"What kind of creatures haunt you? He questioned tilting his head. Eyes shining with something, she couldn't read. He tried to be gentle as possible as he can

Choking on a sob she fisted her hands. Weeping, she snapped closed her eyes on the words ringing in her ears. Thinning her lips she felt the sensations fading slowly. Turning around she walked away from him and sat on the leather chair. Her empty eyes gazing out of the window.

"Get out Waqas. I don't need you." Her cold voice rang in the room. She confused him, her words confusing him. What was she? Who was she?

"Did you take meds?" He asked, hands by his side as he narrowed his eyes on the shadow looming behind the glass.

A question ringing in his mind, was she possessed?

"I-i couldn't find them anywhere."

"Oh, Zohra." She didn't know if those words were of pity or empathy, neither she cared. She was empty and numb and she clearly didn't need him, at least not right at the moment.