4. Meeting Her Mysterious Husband

Hasna had been living in the secluded yet cozy house for nearly a month. It had also been almost a month since her marriage to a man who had not contacted her since the day they wed. Despite the lack of communication, she found solace in the peacefulness of the home, where she had the freedom to explore every nook and cranny, including a study filled with shelves upon shelves of intriguing books. She spent hours absorbed in their pages, losing herself in stories and knowledge. Her only company was the old Bengali woman she affectionately called "Khala." Khala divulged very little about the island, leaving Hasna in the dark about her surroundings, yet strangely drawn to the mysterious place and the secrets it seemed to hold.Khala lived with the other servants in a separate quarter and left each evening after dinner, leaving Hasna alone in the house. Tonight was no different. After bidding Khala goodnight, Hasna went to bed early. She fell asleep reading a book, lulled by the cool breeze that brushed her face and the rustling of leaves outside the window. The room was dimly lit by moonlight, casting eerie shadows on the walls.She woke in the middle of the night, her heart racing uncontrollably. There was no electricity, and the darkness pressed in around her. For some reason, even the generator wasn't working. She had no choice but to wait for morning. Fortunately, Khala had shown her where the candles were kept. With the dim light of her phone, Hasna made her way to the storage area and began lighting the candles one by one. The warm glow gradually pushed back the darkness, and she began to feel a bit more at ease.But just as the tension in her chest started to ease, she heard it—a heavy, deliberate footstep. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the candle. She turned slowly, her eyes wide with fear. Standing a few steps away was a man, his face partially obscured by the shadows. Their eyes met, and a cold wave of terror washed over her, but she fought to keep her composure.Hamza finally saw her with his own eyes, and something stirred in him—a memory, perhaps. His gaze bore into her, intense and unyielding."Don't you dare come near me!" she suddenly spat out, her voice trembling but firm. She took a step back, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. "Please... please leave... I'm begging you."Her other hand came up, and in it, she held a knife. Hamza was taken aback, not having noticed or imagined that she would be armed. There was a crooked smile on her face as she said, "You thief, you've picked the wrong house. Do you even realize the mistake you've made? Foolish... I've killed seven men. With you, I'm going to make it eight. And your corpse—I'll cut it into pieces and toss it into the sea."The smile vanished, replaced by a deadly seriousness. "What? Do you think I'm joking? You men all have the same problem. You never know how to read a woman. Those seven men I killed were just like you... foolish. They only saw a weak, fragile woman. They didn't see the evil in me, and they paid for it with their lives. You're going to share their fate."Hasna took a step forward, the knife gleaming in the candlelight. But Hamza didn't flinch, nor did he move from his spot. Just then, the electricity flickered back on, flooding the room with light. Hamza stood there, silently staring at her, his expression unreadable.A moment later, a servant entered the room, his face apologetic. "Sorry, sir, the generator had some serious issues. It took me a while to fix it." His eyes widened when he saw Hasna holding the knife. "Madam, why are you holding a knife?" he asked, confused.Khala arrived at the doorway, her eyes widening as well. The servants had been informed that Hamza would arrive today, but clearly, Hasna had not been told."Madam, this is sir," Khala said gently, her voice laced with concern.Hasna's brow arched, but she didn't lower the knife. Instead, she tightened her grip around it. "So, you're behind all of this," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing at Hamza. "What do you want from me? Why did you pull me out of jail and marry me? Why have you kept me locked in this house? Tell me now—what do you want?"The two servants exchanged worried glances, but Hamza remained unfazed. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly walked toward her, his gaze never wavering. He stopped right in front of her and calmly reached for the hand that held the knife.Hasna's heart pounded as she watched him extinguish the candle with a deliberate motion, plunging them into a more intimate darkness. She could feel his breath on her face as he leaned in, his eyes still fixed on hers.In a low, husky voice, he said, "We'll talk in the morning."Her heart beat even faster, a mixture of fear and uncertainty flooding her veins. "What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice trembling."I want you to trust me," Hamza replied, his tone softening, almost pleading."How can I trust you?" she demanded, her suspicion clear. "You're a stranger to me.""I'm your husband," Hamza said, his voice firm. "You agreed to marry me, remember?"Hasna paused, her mind reeling as she tried to recall the events that had led her here. "Yes, I remember. But you haven't contacted me since then. I thought you didn't want anything to do with me," she said, her voice tinged with hurt and wariness.Hamza sighed, a hint of regret crossing his features. "I had urgent business to attend to. I'm sorry I couldn't contact you sooner."A flicker of relief passed through Hasna, but it was quickly replaced by lingering doubt. She was still unsure of his intentions, still on guard.For a moment, they stood in silence, eyes locked, as if trying to decipher each other's thoughts. The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Khala cleared her throat, gently breaking the moment."Sir, perhaps it would be best if the madam rested now. She has been through a lot today," Khala suggested softly, her voice a calming presence in the room.Hamza nodded, releasing Hasna's hand and stepping back. Without another word, he turned and left the room. Hasna remained where she was, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions she couldn't quite process. She didn't know what to make of her husband's sudden appearance, and the many questions swirling in her mind remained unanswered.Later that night, as she lay awake in bed, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Hamza. The way he had looked at her, as if he knew something she didn't. The way his voice had sent shivers down her spine. There was more to this man, more to this situation, than she understood."Why did you hold the knife against him?" Khala's voice pulled Hasna from her thoughts."I thought he was a thief," Hasna replied, still shaken by the encounter. "Who sneaks into their own house like that?"Khala chuckled softly, a sound that was both comforting and knowing. "You're too smart for your own good, my child. But I'm sure everything will make sense in due time."Hasna forced a smile, hoping Khala was right. She hoped that soon, the mysteries surrounding her husband and her situation would be unraveled. But until then, all she could do was wait—and hope.