INAYAT'S POV

Never believe pretty boys and their pretty words. He doesn't want to lose me? We barely ever had each other. "We don't even know each other."

"We can get to know each other. There is always time to build up a relationship darling." He wants us to know each other? Okay. "Whose blood was on you the day we met?"

He doesn't even blink, doesn't seem bothered by it either.

"Dane Primrose. He was a professor at Heathens before it burnt down and then taught at Columbia for a few years before retiring and moving back to Mount Palacia." That easy? It's that easy to hurt someone?

"What did you do to him?" His answering smile is sinister. He leans a little closer. Not close enough to have me panic but close and intrigue burns bright in my body. "Killed him." He says and then goes back to where he was sitting before, and digging into his food.

I married a murderer. I'm still married to a murderer. It doesn't scare me the way it should've and that just shows how demented I am. "Why did you do it?" I ask.

"He was a bad guy." Of course. Everyone in this world is bad and my husband is a god presenting justice. "And who decides that? Who judges people and their crimes?"

"In this case darling, I do." I shake my head and finish my food without another word. I don't understand what an appropriate response for this is. What should I say? 'Oh no worries. You killed somebody because you decided they were bad, nothing wrong with that.'

Harold takes care of the bill. We both get up, collect our coats and decide to leave. He looks me up and down before I put on my coat and smiles. "Have I told you how beautiful you look today?"

He always knows what to say. If I wasn't broken, damaged, cocooned in my own feelings, I would have loved him.

Some part of me believes I actually do, because he's perfect, aside from the murder part, of course, but, he's a good husband.

No matter what has ever happened to me, he's the only one I feel truly safe and supported with. "No, I don't believe you have." He smiles again.

"Apologies, darling. That is inexcusable. You look divine." I look down at my red Anarkali. It's one of the many Indian clothes he had someone design for me. I appreciate it. I appreciate everything he has ever done for me.

I put my coat on, thank him and we take a small walk back to his office, where we collect his car, and he drives me back to his house. His mother has retired to her bed. I barely see anyone, except when we enter, Debra and Cassandra meet us by the door.

Debra has been working for this family since Harold was a baby. She basically raised him, and Cassandra is her daughter, Cassie, is what she goes by, and while she has never done anything to me, I still think Cassandra and I don’t have the kind of normal human relationship.

I believe there's some animosity from her side towards me and well, I couldn't care less. Debra takes Harold's coat and points towards the back. "Your father has been expecting you in his office. He says, it's urgent."

My husband sighs before following Debra to meet his father. Cassie forwards her hand towards me. "Can I take your coat?" I shake my head. "No, I'm good. Thank you." She takes her hand back.

"Right, I forgot. You don't like people touching your things." I don't know if she was trying to be condescending, or if that is just how she talks. "I don't mind people touching my things, Cassie. I just don't like people touching me."

She nods. "Is it because you're a germophobe? Do you believe somebody could contaminate you?"

"No," I shake my head. "It's just a personal preference. I don't like being touched." I don't want to share what happened to me with her. We're not friends. We're not anything. She works for the family I'm married into.

She thinks I believe I'm better than her. I don't. I don't believe I'm better than anybody else, except for that monster. I am sure I'm better than him.

I would never hurt children. I would never hurt people. I would never do what was done to me, to anyone else. That's probably why I became a therapist. I want to help people. I want to give the kind of help I never got to people who actually need it, to people who deserve it.

Maybe it's my way of helping the little old me, because she needed that. A helping hand, which she never got, not until I met Harold. I take off my jacket and forward it to her as an olive branch, as a peace offering. "Can you please put this away?"

Cassie smiles a little. It's not condescending. It's nothing. It's a natural smile. "Of course." She takes my coat it's a minuscule second, and then I feel it. Her fingers grazing mine.

The horrid feeling of terror climbs up my throat. I know she wasn't trying to harm me. She didn't harm me at all. She did absolutely nothing to me except lightly graze my fingers, and I don't believe that was intentional, either. But my cloudy brain doesn't understand that.

I feel the threat, the panic claws its way to my throat and starts choking me. "I- I can't breathe." I say, my hand reaches up to clutch my throat.

This is why I hate it, this feeling of helplessness. This is why I want to be normal so bad, but I just can't be. She didn't do anything to me at all, and here I am. It feels like I am dying right now.

I fall down onto the floor, clutching my chest and my throat, hoping at least one breath could soothe the ache in my lungs. But it doesn't come.

Cassie panics. "Oh my god, what happened? I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing!" I shake my head. I know it's not her fault, but I don't know how to fix this.

She starts screaming for someone to come and help her. "Help! Is anybody here?!" She runs. I think it's to Harold. I don't know if he can fix this.

I don't even know what to do. I've had these attacks before. I've hated being touched for a very long time, but usually the panic is followed by pain. Extreme and cruciating pain, and the panic drowns away. I go numb.

I'm hoping that won't happen now, the pain is unbearable, but so is this panic. God, I hate my life. God, I hate whatever happened to me. My whole body shakes. I choke on my own sobs.

There is no air that infiltrates my lungs. I feel like I'm dying. "Oh, my God!" My mother in law runs down. "Oh my god, sweetheart. What happened?"

I shake my head. I can't talk. I can't say anything to her. I want to, but I can't. No words come out of my mouth. Debra runs out just after my mother in law. "Oh my god, dear. What is happening?"

Everybody's panicking, everybody's screaming, and I can hear them all. I'm screaming in my head too. They just don't hear it.

~~~~~~

HAROLD'S POV

I stare at my father, who stares back at me without uttering a word. "Can you talk? I need to go." I need to go back to my wife because I need to talk to her.

We need to get to know each other, fix our marriage, fix our lives, whatever she needs, because I don't want her to leave me. She's genuinely all I have.

He shakes his head. "What's the hurry?"

"None of your business." I say. I wish he wasn't my father. "Harold!" I hate the way he says it. He says my name with disapproval. Faisal used to say it with annoyance at first and then just normally. He put no emotion in my name after a while.

Then there is Inayat. She says it in all different ways. Sometimes she is annoyed or angry. But sometimes she says it with hope. She says it like it matters. But now she wants to leave me.

Absolutely not.

"What do you want?" I ask. "Get it over with."

"I didn't like the way you talked to me in the meeting today. You are not allowed to challenge my authority. I'm a respectable surgeon, and I need-"

"What?" I cut him off. "Validation? First of all, you're not gonna get it. Second of all, you're no one to allow me or not allow me to say or do what I want. I am a Duke, father.

I am the lord of this house, and you stay under my roof, so mind your fucking business or find yourself another house. Oh, and your wife is gonna stay here with me."

"You fucke-" the door bursts open. Cassandra rushes in. "Your wife! She-“ All I see is red. I don't care what my fucking father wants. I don't care that he's begging for attention.

I run. I've always been worried about Inayat. She's not well, and I understand that. I just don't know what happened to her, and the scene in front of me now is worse than what I could have imagined.

My wife is on the floor clutching her chest, sobbing, trying to take in deep breaths, but something tells me they're not helping her. I rush towards her and kneel in front of her, still a bit away.

"Darling? What happened?" She doesn't answer. I don't believe she can. She shakes her head. I look at the other people around. "What the fuck happened?!"

Cassandra looks at me crying. "I think I accidentally grazed my finger against her. I didn't mean to. I promise!"

Fuck. Fuck.

Inayat hates touch more than anything in this world. I've had never seen the extent of it. Once she told me she doesn't want to be touched, I never tried to understand why, because that was her choice.

She made it, and I was going to respect it. But this? This was her reaction to touch?

I'm fucking scared.

I stand up and scream. "How many times have I fucking told you to stay away from her?! How many times do I need to remind every single one of you to just respect what she wants? Is it too hard to not touch somebody?!"

Cassandra shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." I clutch my hair and look down at my wife.

"Listen to me, Inayat, tell me what I can do please. I need to help you. I want to help you, please."

She shakes her head as if she doesn't know herself. Shit. I think she's having a panic attack. What do I do in a fucking panic attack?!

I can't even touch her. I'm worried it's gonna set off more problems. I take out my phone. I'm  going to fucking Google this shit.

They write off very basic things. Try to count, try to control your breathing. I tell her to count, and she glares at me, even through everything, she glares at me. That's progress, I believe.

I look for more things. It says focusing on other senses might help. Eating. Great! I look at my mother. "Is there any candy in this house? Anything? A lolly, or chocolate?"

My mother nods quickly. "Of course there is. I believe there's sweeties somewhere."

Debra and Cassandra both run looking for something, anything, and then they run back here. "Here, I found this." Debra gives me a lolly.

Yeah, it'll work. It better! I forward it to my wife. "Darling, please. This will help." I put it on the ground and wait for her to take it. Inayat leaps forward for it. She's desperate. I believe she can't breathe. Her face is turning paler by the minute.

She tries to open the packet, but the packaging is hard. She throws it back at me. My poor innocent darling. I open the packet and hold it from the edge. "I'm sorry, darling, I can't put it back on the floor."

She takes it from me, mindful not to touch me at all. We watch as she sucks on the candy. I stare attentively, making sure she doesn't choke and actually gets better. It takes a while, but she takes a big breath, filling her lungs up.

My mother sighs, I genuinely believe she loves my wife more than she loves me, but I also think that's a good thing. My wife appreciates it.

Sometimes I look at her and I see her silently cry. Sometimes she looks at pictures of two old people and feels bad. I think they're her parents.

I asked her once if she misses them. She didn't answer, but that was an answer in itself. She does, but she doesn't want to see them again. I don't know what happened, but I know it couldn't be good.

My own panic subsides when I see her breathing normally again. Fucking finally! I thought I'm gonna lose her.

She takes the lolly out from mouth, licks her lips and takes it back again. "That's good." She mumbles. I frown. Her eyes are slightly red, and not the kind of red that comes from not breathing.

The color is slowly returning to her face, but her eyes....

"What the fuck was in that lollipop?" I mutter. My mother gasps. "Oh shit." I look at her. She barely ever curses. "What did you just say?"

My mother looks at Debra. "Where did you find that?" Debra shrugs. "In that drawer right next to the shelf in the kitchen." My mother slaps her forehead.

"Oh, my goodness, that was my medicinal one!" I blink at her. "Is that a new word for weed?" My mother looks sheepish. Oh, my God. My mother eats weed lollies. What the fuck?

I didn't know she was cool like that. I look back at my wife. She's smiling now, clearly high. Oh, dear. This is not gonna end well for any of us.

She hasn't finished it, so I try to take it away from her. "Darling. Can you give that to me?" She shakes her head. "Absolutely not."

"This is mine, Inayat. That is medicinal." My mother says but my wife doesn't care. She does something unexpected instead. She laughs, actually laughs, and it is beautiful.

Her lips tilt up in the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. She laughs from the heart. "This is not medicine. It's weed. And I'm surprised to say, but it's actually really tasty."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. How am I gonna deal with a high wife when I cannot even touch her? What if she falls?!

"Baby, please. I need you to give it back."

She tusks, "nope." I look at my mother. "Why is there weed in this house and not the one that I got?" She narrows her eyes, "you use weed?"

"Mum, you have a glass house yourself. Do not throw stones at me." She shrugs, "It helps me sleep better."

My father, who had followed me, speaks for the first time. "Is that why you're asleep, even before I enter the bedroom?" My mother rolls her eyes.

"Nobody wants to deal with you without being high, Nicholas." My wife chokes on a laugh. I don't blame her. My jaw is hitting the floor. Who is this woman?

My mother has been demure all her life. I didn't even understand why. To be honest, her wife beater of a husband needed to be out of this house ages ago.

Of course, my mother could afford it. She was rich. She was a Duke's daughter, but she stayed with him for some fucking reason and now, now she's clapping back.

It's high time, I believe.

My father glares at my mother, but she waves him off. "Inayat can you get up, sweetie? You should go to bed." My wife stands up. "I can get up." She says. My mother responds with a smile.

I stand up as well, trying to make sure she doesn't fall off, but I cannot touch her. I don't know how I would save her if she does fall, though. Then my wife smiles, "but I'm not sleepy. I'm going out."

What the fuck is wrong with this woman? All right, she is high. "No, you are not." I tell her,

"it's almost midnight."

"It isn't," she points at the clock. "It's 10." She says. "Well, it's closer to midnight." I say. "This is still no time to get out of the house, darling."

"I will get out of the house. I need air." With that she runs out. What the-

I point at everyone. "Nobody touches her after today. Do you people understand?" They all nod, except my father, of course, he rolls his eyes and leaves. Well, fuck him.

Cassandra apologizes again. "I'm really sorry. I actually didn't mean to touch her. I can apologize to her tomorrow when she's sober." I nod and leave running after my wife.

"Inayat! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" I yell after her as I watch her run out the gates of the mansion. Oh no, she's leaving the compound.

There's a highway in front of my house. She's gonna get killed! I run behind her. "Not on the fucking road!" She stops and gets on the pavement. Well, at least that's safer.

"Darling, please. I need you to come back home."

She shakes her head. She doesn't even have a jacket on. Neither do I. "It's cold Inayat." It's fucking October, for God's sake, and it's cold here at night. "Inayat, please."

She shakes her head again like a child, "nope." She sucks on her candy again. Why is she like this?

I can complain all I want, but a part of me is really happy to see her act like this. She's not closed off. She's not hiding behind the cloak of her serious demeanour.

She seems like herself. She seems like someone she could have been if whatever happened to her hadn't happened.

I know someone hurt her, and I hope they count their fucking days, because I will hunt them down.

I will hunt anyone and everyone who hurt my wife down. I don't care if they're her parents, her siblings, if she had any, her family, her enemy. I don't care.

I will make people bleed, every single one of them. She has cut herself a million times. And I'm going to stab someone a million times for making her do that to herself.

But today, I'm gonna enjoy her laughing like this. Carefree, happy. She looks enchanted. "Harold." She says. "Yes, darling?"

She smiles, "I like it when you call me that."

"Do you?" I ask with a smile. "It's cute." She laughs. "It is really cute. You make me feel like I matter."

"Then why do you want to leave me?" I ask. "Because I'm scared."

"Scared of what baby?"

"I'm scared I'll fall in love with you and you won't feel the same about me. I don't want that heartbreak in my life Harold. I've had enough of those."

~~~~~~