So hubby thinks writing a story is easy. AND he thinks he could write too if he wanted to. So I challenged him to write Zayne's POV.

He skimmed through the previous chapter and he is kinda familiar a version of this story. I gave him a quick recap of what happened so far.

I wrote the first line.

Zayne

"Naina, why did you stop praying?"

I've been curious about this for a while.

"I am angry at God" she said.

Wait, apparently that's not the reason. And I have to write with her breathing down my neck. I'm not allowed to read most of her writing. Is that fair?

"I think Allah hates me. When I pray I get scared that I did something wrong."

Ya, she did wrong being with that jerk. But he did her wrong by existing.

Naina starts making out with me to distract me from this question and we forget all about praying.

Naina has beautiful hair. That's my favourite thing about her. And her eyes. And when she smiles, I feel that smile inside me.
She's very pretty and is a sweetheart. I'm crazy about her.

Okay, she's gone and I can write in peace. I'm supposed to do 500 words. This is harder than I thought.

Oh wait! I got it.

So I wait till Naina falls asleep and then message Advik to meet me at the hospital parking lot. I take a pocket knife with me.

"Advik, you came to Naina's workplace and laid your filthy hands on my wife?" I ask him.

"Yes, I want her back."

"In your dreams, asshole," I say.

He's a lot worse than an asshole. He's the crap that lives in the rectum of an 80 year old who hasn't had a bowel movement in 6 days and has developed proctitis. He needs to be in jail. He does not deserve any screen time here but here it goes anyway.

Advik raises his hand to punch me but I duck.
When Advik raises his hand again, I hold it and twist it behind his back. I then knee him and butt my head on the back of his.

Advik falls to the ground. I stand over him and take my knife out.

"Don't" he begs, afraid that I'm going to kill him.

I have a conscience. In spite of that I have no qualms about carving "asshole" on his chest with my knife.

Maybe "pinworm" would be the best thing to write on him. The worm comes out of an infected person's butthole and lays eggs around it making it itchy. He reminds me of pinworms.

I show him my knife and kneel beside him. The knife's blade glints in the light.

I make a gash on his forehead, similar to the one on Naina's forehead. I hate him. I hate how he hurt my wife. I hate seeing the mark he left on her.

I keep my knife back in my pocket. "Come next to Naina again, and you will miss your tiny body part that you use more than your brain." I warn him.

Did I say I hate him? Naina tells me he has had trauma in his childhood. But childhood trauma is not an excuse to hurt others. Lots of serial killers have childhood trauma. Would you sympathize with them?

I walk back home thinking of all the ways I could maim him.
I can't have him arrested without dragging Naina's name in the mud. So I don't take legal action against him.

He and I work in the same hospital. So I told the interns and nurses that he has herpes.

Naina hates that I did this. So next time, I won't tell her about it.

Did I tell you I love Naina? I LOVE how she obsesses over small things, how she hums ALL the time. I love how she makes me feel like I am the best thing in the world. I love how she finds something to fixate on and obsess over. I love all of her.

And I reached 500 words. I won, you lost.
60 min foot massage.
Love you babes

Wait, one more paragraph. So I secretly collect pinworms eggs from a patient and put it in Adviks lunch.

He eats it and for the next several weeks, he walks around with his hands in his pants, scratching his bum. The nurses think it's herpes.

Now I'm done.