"My father-in-law suddenly stuffed a bundle of one lakh taka into my hand on my wedding night and whispered in a very low voice—"If you want to live, leave now." For a second, my world went dark. Fear didn't start then—it was already there, I just didn't want to understand it.
My age is twenty-six, I was working as a junior accountant in a medium-sized real estate company in Dhaka. I met him through work—a joint project of two companies was in Uttara. My husband's name is Rashed Mahmud. He's three years older than me. Confident in his words, neat in his dress, everyone listened to him in the office. He was getting promotions very fast. And most importantly—he was the only son of a very influential, rich family.
Everything happened abnormally fast. The proposal came within six months of meeting. We got married in less than a year. My family was very ordinary. My father is a retired government officer, my mother is a housewife. Very calculative people. They never took big risks in life. When Rashed's family came to formally ask for my hand, my mother cried with joy. My father didn't say anything—he sat quietly for a long time. In the end, he just nodded. I took it as a yes.
I didn't marry for money or status. I married because I thought—I will be safe with him, maybe I even started loving him. This belief lasted exactly one night.
Before entering the bridal chamber, my father-in-law stopped me in the corridor outside the hotel hall. He is always a serious person. He doesn't talk much. I never understood if he liked me or not. But what he did that day, I wasn't prepared for. Without saying anything, he stuffed something into my hand. I looked down. One thousand taka notes—total one lakh taka. Then he came very close and whispered, "If you want to live, leave now." My hand started shaking. "I don't understand," I said. "What are you saying?" He gripped my wrist tightly. Checked if anyone was listening around. Then said— "Don't ask questions. There will be a white car outside the gate. Someone is waiting for you. Get in. And… never come back." I said in a trembling voice, "Why? What's happened?" He just said, "I can't say anything more." For a moment, I looked into his eyes. I didn't see any anger there. I saw—fear. It seemed like helping me was maybe dangerous for him too. Then he let go of my hand, and went back inside the hall—as if nothing had happened. Music was playing inside. Laughter. Camera flashes. Everything suddenly felt very artificial. Through the door gap, I saw—Rashed was standing with friends, laughing, talking on the phone. Completely normal. Completely carefree. As if he had no idea that my life had just been split in two. I took a deep breath. Then I called the only person I trusted unconditionally—my closest friend Mitú.
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