Haya sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the intricate patterns of the lilac bedspread. The soft hues of the morning sun streamed through her window, casting a gentle glow across her room. But despite the peaceful surroundings, Haya felt anything but calm. Her chest tightened with anxiety, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t escape.
The weight of her situation pressed down on her like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. Daniyal Nusair Walizada. Her husband. The man who had forcefully claimed that title through manipulation, threats, and power. Every time she thought about it, her stomach churned with unease. The word "husband" felt foreign on her lips, as if it didn't belong there. It wasn’t a role she had chosen for him. It was one he had taken
