The Devil's Bride

Mid-November was always chilly. She hated how cold it was. It was so warm in I

bedroom. After an exhaustive day at work, a little time to herself was

nkles, when her hair greys. She will never forget this splendid view of the mountains

remember. What she'l

never okay. Ever since she married Erron, her life was a mess. He was the pure emb

rs. They weren't tears of despair, but of irrefutabl

promise their fathers had made years ago. What else could she do? She couldn't break a prom

way with dread. He was home. A familiar feeling settled in the

e

ha

ith him. Despite his unwillingness to be her husband, he would never skip the sex part. And what could she do? She had to give in to him. She had t

t married. Scratch that. They hadn't known each other at all. It was all so quickly. She hadn't had the chance to mourn her father's death. They wedded a week a

had picked the dress. It bagged around her like a sack. She had never seen something so plain. They hadn'

hing she had ever laid her eyes on. Her bouquet consist

t for Layla, they would never have known. She would be forever grateful

ow. The only thing that had cheered her up was the presence

she didn't recognize. She guessed they were his guests. But a small

lt her uncle Mounir tug her lightly. She had completely forgotten that he was by he

lless. From then she knew, that they had no chance whatsoever of car

ted. There was an entire haunted building living in her chest, filling up everything. She desperately

to act like a good wife would. Offer him food, or a massage. Ask him h

g presence. She heard him wandering around in his office. That's where he spent m

he one with the kindest husband. He's always there, by her side. Holding her hand. Assisting

d never be

she definitely paid the price. He howled at her, like a wolf would. He w

swiftly walked in his office. She glanced around. Pl

up his jacket and suitcase, and placing

mutters d

ways gives her a shock, although he's been like this since day one. She straightened up

he asks softly, and surpr

is chair, "I already ate

ds, "O

shuts the door on her way out. That's their daily routine. Her t

edul

e remembered skipping lunch due to unforseen c

ping up greens and throwing them in

man turned around, her eyes in a squ

f. How may

lso a friend of hers. She had worked for the Hamids for years, and Erica made her cook for her son and

. Is there anything I can nibb

"Today was clearing out day. Th

y. What's f

vegetables. Oh and there's

a says, "Thank you, Monica.

s in the dining room when she h

rned,

ce and Kamila looked at her expectantly. Her face had turned

er hers to. She had never seen him wander around the house. She had n

what's t

the room

Who did he think he was, ordering her al

stairs and when she got to the room she closed the door. She was conf

nvoluntarily. She hated the feelings he invoked within her. She wasn't this woman. Kamila Nassif had

m. "Miss Nassif? Miss Nassif?" he began angrily,

ripped her arms, and she bit back a whimper. He gripped them with so much force she felt t

use!" he snarled, his breath fanning her face.

bothers you so mu

nt to hear that name ever again. Y

e landed with a thump. He glared at

a brute. But because he was slowly ripping her apart. One piece at a time.