Chapter Twenty Seven

                             “Giving in”

                       و يُحدِث أن يْبكي فيك كل شيء, الّا عينيك 

 Mahra

Thursday                                      

Roads, these endlessly ancient and mysterious roads are exceedingly tiring and awfully depressing, because they have seen it all, they know it all. We are all just passersby, struggling to find our destination, lost and tired of wandering into the streets of insanity, without getting anywhere. The only way to get rid of these paths, is to get through them.

A road just like this led him to me. Oh, how I wish to destroy that road. If only he knew that his path would end me painfully, and his choices would destroy and shatter me, I think he wouldn’t have done what he did. Or May be he would. May be he did know and planned to end me on purpose!

Here we were, driving through the long and straight roads, on our way back to Dubai. I rested my head on the window and stared at the world outside. Everything that we passed by, seemed familiar, the trees, the birds, the air that lingered around us. Nowadays I felt so close to nature, I guess she knew about my misfortunes, and she understood. Even the sun in the sky beamed down on me, laughing and roaring that my misfortunes have been great indeed.

Lost deep in my thoughts, at some point I felt the car coming to a halt. I fidgeted a little in my seat, which was right next to Zayed. As much as I wanted to stay away from him, but unfortunately, the bellman at the hotel put me in a an uneasy situation, where I couldn't avoid sitting with him. I had to do it, even against my will, like most other things these days.

As I looked from left to right, I realized I recognized this place and this parking lot. He had brought me to the Sheikh Zayed Grand mosque, in the capital. Turning to glance at him, questioningly, I found him collecting his keys and shoving them in his pocket.

"Let's pray Al 'Asr and then we'll leave." He suggested, his face firm. I wished I could refuse, but he knew very well what he was doing. He spoke rarely and whenever he did, he'd ask for things that were undeniable, inarguable, leaving me no choice but to say yes.

I nodded slightly as an answer, and without further ado, I heard him step out of the car. Whereas I, I re-adjusted my shailah on my head, and grabbing my handbag, I got out as well. He was preceding me, but seconds later, I saw him pause and turn back to take a glance at me.

He didn't say anything, but seemed like he was expecting mo to keep up with his pace and so I did. We walked, slowly, to the separate praying halls; him being the leader and I the follower.

♥♥

Once done praying, I stepped out into the open and extensive inner yards of the beautiful mosque. The fresh air hit me and I took in a deep breath, my lungs craving for it. The gentle breeze blew my shailah but I held it closely with my hand and paced through the archways until I reached the reflective pools that surrounded the mosque. I sat down on the marble borders of the pool, designed as seats, and took in the great view, adoring the architecture.

Thinking back to what had happened the last couple of days, I closed my eyes shut. No, I wasn't fighting tears, I tried to fight the terrible headache I have had since yesterday. After telling me the excruciating truth, my sympathetic husband left me alone that day, to cry or mourn or do whatever it was that I wanted to do.

I didn't see him when he came back, but he was up early yesterday morning. The day had been quiet to its fullest, neither one of us conversed or tried to speak to the other. It was only this morning when I woke up and found out that he had different plans for me. He told me – without facing me – to get ready, and that we were going back to Dubai. Dumbstruck, I was unable to question him much, because things have been even more awkward between us ever since his immense confessions.

At first I was contented and glad with the thought of seeing my family but then when reality kicked in, the wave of happiness that surged through me, vanished as quickly as it came. I remembered my mother's merry eyes and realized, what would my awful sight and state do to those eyes? Even if I don't tell her the truth, just by seeing me in this condition, she and Hamad will figure everything out. Which wasn't what I wanted!

A while later, as I turned to stare at my reflection in the water, another excruciatingly familiar reflection appeared next to me. It was him again, standing tall right next to me, his dark eyes fixed at my empty ones in the water’s reflection. I averted my gaze from him to the columns ahead, hoping he’d head to where he came from and give me some time alone but he didn’t. Along with his whimsical character, his behavior seems very unpredictable sometimes, because instead of leaving he quietly sat beside me, at a very small distance.

After all that we both have been through, my heartbeats still quickened and my pulse raced. A heavy wind blew carrying his scent to me and I hated myself for recognizing it too well. He was so close that I heard him inhale and exhale and then; “This place is beautiful.” he praised, his voice peaceful. He seemed to be in a total different world and not with me. My world wasn’t that serene.

I chose to remain silent, as our eyes wandered around, taking in the unique beauty of this place.

“Have you ever been here before?” He questioned, in the same calm tone.

Here, a dear memory flashed in my brain. Last Ramadan, mother, Aunt Amna, Sara, Aisha and I came here for Salat- AlTaraweeh, along with Fahad. I can still remember the sound of our laughter ringing in these archways every time I cracked a joke.

“Yes, Fahad brings us here every Ramadan.” I recalled, staring at a spot where we once sat. I wasn’t sure if he knew my cousin Fahad and didn’t bother to elaborate either. Besides what could I possibly tell him about Fahad? That he was my cousin who wanted me as his wife and waited for me for years but I was too proud to marry him! And instead I married you; the biggest mistake of my life.  

He took his time before speaking again. “Why not Hamad?” He asked, I think he was looking at me now. Seemed like, all of a sudden, our topic caught his interest.

I didn’t know why! I think it was because Fahad was a lot warmer with ladies than Hamad. But that wasn’t what I told him.

“The older women adored Fahad. He was their favorite.” I replied, tucking a strand of my hair – that peaked from my shailah – behind my ear.

Once I finished my sentence, I was somewhat amazed at the normality and formality of our little conversation, which was pretty unusual. I didn’t know why he was asking such things, surely he isn’t interested in my family. And why was I replying? I didn’t have to!

As if reading my mind, he became quiet and seemed like our little conversation was over. I looked side-ways at him, as he stared at the floor. Since he wasn’t wearing his ‘egal, nor had he tied a safrah today, his bare hair – which was normally black – now became a chocolate brown, shining under the raises of the setting sun.

“I have called Hamad and informed him everything.” Zayed broke the silence, shortly. The information that his sentence gave away intrigued and scared me. What does he mean by ‘everything’?

I turned questioningly to him and he realized that I was waiting for further explanation and so continued. “He knows we were in the country this past week and didn’t travel anywhere.” He elaborated, shifting the power of his eyes to me, for the first time.

“Did you tell him why?” came my voice and I realized my question was utterly stupid. To prove that he gave me a side-long glance.

“I told him it was what I wanted and he didn’t question much.” He informed, after a good moment of silence.

A man in his mid-thirties along with his young toddler, walked passed us, and we both had unintentionally turned to look at them. My thoughts were busy with Hamad. I knew very well that Hamad will question me, more than once; until he gets himself a convincing answer! But what would that answer be?

“My family too will ask questions and expect a good reason for our stay in the country.” His eyes might have been distracted but his thoughts were still where I had lost mine last. Zayed’s forehead creased into a deep frown as if he didn’t like the words that he was going to say next.

“After all the pain that I have caused you, I shouldn’t be asking you for more, but I have no other choice.” He paused and rubbed his forehead. “I know you don’t want to, but for the sake of those who are dear to you and to me, help me persuade them that we’re living as normal a life as anybody else.”

It was my turn to frown now. I was hoping he’d dump me at my mother’s house and I’d never get to see him again. I know the reason that brought us together, but I still can’t live with him and act like everything’s okay. I need to get away from him and if anybody asks why, I’ll just say it didn’t work out.

“Why don’t we tell them that it isn’t working out?” I asserted. “At least we won’t be lying that way.

He tsk-ed and shook his head disapprovingly.

“You’re not listening to me. I can’t back off now, after all that we have been through.  I can’t stress my father when he is sick and in that condition. I can’t tell him that what he thought was best for me, apparently isn’t.” he declared, impatiently. 

“Only I know that this,” he drew a line in thin-air, pointing at himself and me. “will never workout, but we have to play along until things get settled.”

His last sentence killed me once again. I hadn’t cured from the earlier injuries yet.

“I can’t.” I took in an icy breath.

He turned to face me. “I know it is too much to ask for, but we have to do this.”

“No… please. I …cc..can’t.” I refused, instantly. My brain and heart were both refusing because they knew what would happen to me if I said yes to this. I will die a thousand deaths every day!

 “Do it for my father.” He spoke, clearly. “I am asking you this because I know how much he means to you. I wouldn’t ask if it were anybody else.”

“But I can’t fool anyone!”

“You don’t have to. Just don’t tell them the truth.

I stared at him, aghast. “For how long?” I asked, gravelly.

“Until my father cures, then I will end it myself.” He proposed, and now I felt like he had slashed a sword across my chest. “I have done my fair share of a son’s responsibilities now it is your turn.”

I heaved a sigh and turned to look away from his insisting eyes, not knowing what to say. I knew he was playing me once again. He and I both knew very well that I was in no state to say no and he knew he could use that against me.

He was using uncle Waleed, the most generous and humble man I have ever known. He has done me many kindnesses, to an extent that he jeopardized his son’s life for me. Both Hamad and I owe him a lot and no matter what I did we could never pay him back.

Also my mother, after all that she has done for me, I can’t break her by telling her the truth. She had waited for my marriage all these years. And now that it happened, I can’t tell her that I am unhappy with the man she chose for me, on the first week of my marriage. It’ll destroy her and destroy my reputation.

Before knowing the reality, I mostly blamed Hamad, because he took all my decisions for me but now I don’t blame him either. He too wished me a happy life but my luck had planned something completely different for me. My father and uncle Waleed had planned something different for me.

 My silence announced my alliance. He gazed in my eyes, somewhat relived.

And that was how I talked myself into another tricky game.

♥♥

The rest of our journey was quiet and uneventful, so much so that I didn’t realize but I had unintentionally slumbered a little in the car. The growing pain in my head and the endless thoughts in my brain had made me exhausted. Although unmeant but sleeping was the best option to forget this pain, which was bigger than me.

After a long while when I opened my eyes, the car was parked in front of a tall skyscraper. Hundreds of questions rang in my brain, curiosity and surprise flitted across my face. “Where are we?” I finally asked.

“This is where we’d be living in from now on.” I heard the door open and turned to see him getting out.

This was going to be hard!

I sighed, scowling at the building ahead and then gave up. I had heard that we’d be living in an apartment after marriage, and I always hated the idea of living in the sky, where your feet couldn’t touch the holy ground. But there was nothing I could do about it anyway.

 As I stepped out, once again he walked ahead of me, eyes glued to his phone. Reluctantly, I followed him. We got into the building and took the elevator. I was uninterested with my surroundings as the doors of the elevator glided open, finally. My eyes took in the sight of a wide and bright corridor ahead of me, with two wooden doors on each side. Zayed walked over to the door to our right and I realized that that was going to be ‘Home’ from now on. Like it or not Mahra!

I eyed as he jabbed certain codes of the password to unlock the door, and as it opened the lights in the apartment lit up. Shutting the door behind me, we walked through the four-step long passageway, that opened to a vast living room, attached to which was the dining area. My eyes trailed Zayed as he ambled across the living room and halted next to the east bedroom and twirled to face me

“This will be your room.” He announced, and pointed to my left. “And there’s the kitchen.” He informed, ever so calmly and himself walked over to the west bedroom, which I figured was supposed to be his room.

As I cast my eyes around the apartment, surveying it, his next sentence demanded my attention once again; “You can find me here if you need anything.” I heard his voice before he vanished in his room. His bossy tone reminded me of the days that I used to work with him. I don’t know if they were good days or bad ones!

I stepped in the room that he said was mine and prepared for Salat-Al- Maghrib, slightly late but I prayed anyway. I was replacing my shailat-al-salah with a smaller scarf, after prayer, when I heard the door-bell ring. Suddenly, Hamad’s face flashed before my eyes and I wished it was him. My heart raced and I quickly rushed out into the living room, where I saw Zayed placing a bag filled of food on the near-by table.

Disappointment filled my eyes as I stared at him and he spotted me. “Have some dinner before you go to sleep.” I knew well enough that it was an order. Leaving the bag there, he was heading to his room but paused half-way through.

“Before I forget, as it is Friday tomorrow.” He began and I narrowed my eyes. “My family has held a lunch gathering for the both of us. Most of my relatives will be present there, so I hope you prepare yourself.” That last sentence carried a bigger message than how he served it.

I struggled to sum up the right words to say, so I just nodded and he left me there as soon as he made sure that I was ready to co-operate. Or maybe he felt guilty, if I were him, I would.

♥♥

After having a small dinner, I placed the rest of the food in the kitchen and headed to sleep but it did not wish to come. Infuriated and wearied, I woke up early and prayed my Fajr prayer. There was an empty hole inside of me, that I wanted to fill by reading Quran, but unfortunately, I couldn’t find one in my room. So I lay back down on my bed and drifted again.

A knock on my door was what woke me up this time. As I opened my eyes I heard it once more, following it was silence. I knew it was Zayed and waited to hear him say something but he didn’t and his shadow disappeared from under the door. Since I had left the curtains drawn last night, I could see the sun shining high in the sky indicating that it was early in the afternoon, I must’ve slept a lot.

I quickly got up and searched my bags for the dress of my Sabahiah, since things didn’t go as planned so I chose to wear it today. I surveyed the wardrobes for something and found two more bags. The bags that I wasn’t taking with me to my “honeymoon” were brought here. My eyes fell upon a small black one, in which I had placed all my jewels. I unlocked it and took out a set that matched the red fancy eimirati dress.

Taking a quick bath, I dressed up and blow dried my hair. Applying make-up was the hardest part, because my hands were shaking out of weakness and anxiety. On top of all the feelings that twirled within my insides, nervousness now governed my actions. I wanted to stop and leave it at the basics but I was a “NEW BRIDE” who was going to visit her in-laws for the first time. One spot missing and the rumors and assumptions will spread like a disease.

Once ready and wearing my Abaya, I paused in front of the door, reluctant to go like this in front of him. What if he notices that I put effort into what he had asked me? Will he think that I care about his name? But I don’t, I am doing all this because of uncle Waleed. I agreed to all this because of him and him only.

Gathering some courage, I stepped out and was contented to find the living room empty. He was awake but not there. I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of juice from the refrigerator, which was filled with all sorts of snacks. Sitting down on the chair seated next to a round wooden table, I drank and tried to compose myself.

I jerked as I heard a slamming of a door, nearby. Just like the suite, this kitchen too had an open access to the living room, allowing me to encounter the heart breaking sight in front of me. My gaze fell upon Zayed who was dressed in white from head to toe, he looked like a dazzling groom, as if he was ready to get married once again. Despite my muddled feelings towards him, I couldn’t avert my eyes from his glistening sight or compose my heart as I saw him walk out of his room. All these days that I spent with him in Abu Dhabi, never did I ever see him so polished. Was this all because of his family? Was he so keen to convince them of his false satisfaction?

His swift eyes found me and turned away as if I was a meaningless piece of decoration. He was making his way to the kitchen as he grabbed the edge of his safra and threw it behind his shoulder, a move most women died for. I too was one of them, once….once.

“You’re ready?” He questioned, as he came to stand by the kitchen’s door. I looked down at the glass in my hands and nodded. “Let’s leave then. We have to be there before prayer time.” I heard him complete and put my glass on side, standing up.

“I’ll just grab my bag.” I remembered, and was next to the door when I saw him step completely aside to make way for me. I wanted to roll my eyes but couldn’t. Things were already awkward enough, he didn’t need to push it.

♥♥

Half an hour later

The car rolled to a halt in front of a contemporary villa, and I guessed we had arrived to our destination. My heart beats quickened and hands became cold as I saw Zayed opening the automatic gate with a tiny remote control. I didn’t want to go in, I didn’t want to face or lie to so many people. Any which ways, comfortable or not, nobody gave a damn about my feelings, so we were now driving into the house and my nerves worsened.

He parked the car and I turned to look at him but his eyes were fixed at the car parked in front of us. I followed his gaze and saw a young man stepping out of a black Nissan VTC, smiling as he did. Zayed mimicked his moves and got out as well, without turning to look back at me.

I tried to free myself from anxiety, taking in a deep breath I went after him. The air outside was cold, and as it hit me, I shivered. The young man’s voice reached my ears as he greeted Zayed and I now remembered he was his younger brother, Jassim. I had seen him on my engagement day. They both did takkhashum and Jassim leaned over to hug his older brother.

“Walla you have changed after one week of your wedding.” Jassim commented, with an evil grin. The brightness of his eyes as he looked at Zayed and the happiness that oozed from his face by seeing him was remarkable.

 With small and slow steps I walked up to ‘my husband’ and stood beside him, that was when Jassim took note of my presence. He diverted his gaze to me and I observed how very much he resembled his father unlike Zayed. Jassim had inherited most of uncle Waleed’s features including his height. I wondered where did Zayed take most his features from, he was different than many men I have seen, especially the enormous height.

“Assalaam Alaikum and hello to the wife of my cherished brother.” He greeted, and I couldn’t help but smile. His playful tone reminded me of my cousin Abdullah, they both appeared to be of the same age.

“Wa Alaikum Assalaam. How are you? Insha Allah fine?” I inquired, my voice barely audible. 

“Alhamdulillah, I am great and in case you don’t know I am your husband’s younger brother, AlSheikh Jassim.” He addressed himself as ‘prince’ with exaggerated pride.

“It’s been a pleasure.” I replied, pretending to be serious but his lips twitched into a broad smile and he turned to address his brother.

“Why did it take you so long? Everyone’s been waiting for you?” He asked. Zayed raised his right hand and glanced at his watch.

“It’s only ten thirty.” I heard him state.

“Yes, but mother’s been waiting since yesterday.” Jassim informed, placing his hand on Zayed’s arm, he took a step away from us. “I’ll go and let them know that you have arrived.” He said and hurried inside.

As I watched him go, my earlier insecurities came back. Inhaling deeply; “Allah yester.” I mumbled, spontaneously, which made Zayed turn around to look at me for the first time. I stared back at his eyes and felt like my heart was in my throat.

“Don’t be nervous. They’re just people.” His unfamiliarly soothing voice said to me. I managed to give him a short nod. “Yalla, let’s go.” He advanced, leading the way. But this time he was walking close-by, not two feet ahead of me.

I was grateful for that, because discovering the sight ahead of me, I tried to hide myself behind his shoulder as we reached the entrance door. More women had gathered around to accost us than I had imagined to see. Ahead of them was Umm Zayed, welcoming us warmly and smiling broadly at her son. 

“Ya Hala W Marhaba bi Habibi.” She greeted, inviting Zayed in her arms, who didn’t retreat and embraced his mother with both hands.

I stood beside them, with a sheepish smile, not knowing what to do. Luckily Zayed’s warmhearted grandmother confronted me and I leaned over to peck her head, asking about her health. From the corner of my eye I could see Zayed, who finally pulled away and planted a kiss on his mother’s forehead as well. He whispered something to her making her grin and then turned to meet his sister Laylah. Meanwhile, my mother-in-law faced me.

“Garbi Binti, Garbi. (Come child, come)” I heard her summon and I walked ahead to greet her. “How are you my dear?” Umm Zayed inquired.

“Alhamdulillah aunty, how have you been?” I replied, remembering my mother for some reason. Would she be this happy to see me too?

“All praises be to Allah. May he always keep you well and healthy!” She prayed. In the midst of her prayers Laylah came over to hug me, her eyes shining with glee. I kissed her right cheek four times and then repeated the process with Deemah and the other welcomers. 

 “Take Mahra to the other guests in the women’s Maylis.” Umm Zayed instructed.

There were more guests? My head was spinning remembering these names only!

I had now reached the door, with Laylah standing beside me and as we heard Umm Zayed’s suggestion, I unconsciously turned around to glance at Zayed. The idea of us being separated didn’t sound so great to me. What if I say or do something wrong? I don’t even know what stories he’s told them about our stay.

Zayed was standing there next to his mother, staring at me, his eyes empty. I waited and hoped for his interference or disagreement but he didn’t utter a word. I sensed Laylah’s grip on my hand and heard her joke about us being unwilling to be apart. At that moment I couldn’t find myself laughing at her joke.

They lead me inside, and I took off my heels in the foyer. We sauntered across the living room and arrived at the women’s maylis. I entered alongside Laylah and the grandmother, andoffered Salaam to the rest of the guests, who stood up in respect for the grandmother. Most of them were girls of my age, slightly older or younger. I noticed Mona walking up to me, accompanying her was a tall and slim girl, she introduced as Shoug. She was Umm Rashid’s daughter, and had two other sisters Ameerah and Zainab. I think I met six or seven other girls, I struggled to get their names right. 

Finally we sat down, and Zayed’s grandmother seized my hand, making me sit beside her. On my other side was uncle Waleed’s only sister, Hessa. I had seen her last time when she came to our house; she held her baby girl who was named after me.

Drinks were served to everyone along with tea. The room was bursting with energy and liveliness. Gradually the conversation became all about me, women directed there questions at me.

-How was your first week?

-InshaAllah you are happy with Zayed?

Umm Zayed walked in, announcing that the men had left for prayer and she too joined the inquiry.

-Is my son treating you well, binti?

-I hope he took good care of you in Abu Dhabi?

Mostly the questions came from the grandmother and Umm Zayed. I faked a good smile and kept on lying and lying and lying; telling them exactly what they wanted to hear.

♥♥

The men arrived after the Friday prayer and lunch was served for men and women separately. As if I was the guest of honor, everyone kept on stuffing my plate. All that starvation from the past week was all to end today. The environment at lunch was lovingly pleasant; the playful jokes and sounds of laughter made me miss even more the times I spent with my cousins.

After having a heavy lunch, I had no place for dessert but Umm Zayed and Laylah insisted. They all sat there chatting about our wedding and lingering around various topics for about two hours. I had a hard time coping up with their enthusiasm.

Slowly, the guests began to scatter until only the house members were remaining. We left the women’s maylis and went to sit in the living room, where Arabic coffee was served again with da

I never felt so miss placed in my entire life as I felt at that moment; even though everyone was very friendly, but I felt lost amongst them. Until a dear and familiar face appeared and we all stood up, hearing his soothing voice.

“Where is the bride?” Uncle Waleed called out entering the living room. I looked at him, and at his bright smile my heart jumped in glee. This was the only time a real and actual smile spread across my lips. “Mahra, binti.” He spotted me and I unconsciously walked forward to greet him. I shook his hand and he placed the other on my head, blessing me. “How are you, my child?” He questioned.

I looked up to meet his eyes and remembered my father. “Alhamdulillah ‘Ammi. How have you been?” I asked, slightly hesitant.

“I have never been better.” He stated and made his way to the sofa that I had been sitting on. Badr – uncle Waleed’s brother – and Zayed walked in next and the older man addressed me. I asked him of his well-being and ignored my husband completely, who stood beside Badr. We heard uncle Waleed calling me.

“Come, child. Sit here, by me.” He patted at the spot next to him and I didn’t deny.

Everybody took their seats and I noticed Zayed came to sit on the other side of his father, who was busy conversing with me. After the third time of inquiring about my health, he moved on to another topic which wasn’t very welcoming either.

“InshaAllah our boy is treating you well?” He repeated the same question, I had grown tired of. I tried my best not to look at Zayed who sat right next to uncle Waleed and nodded. It was hard to lie in front of so many people. “No, ya binti. Speak up if he is falling short on his duties.” Uncle insisted.

Every eye in the room was fixed at me. The thought of telling them the truth came to me, but then when I observed uncle Waleed’s face, I couldn’t. He sure had worn out because of his illness, but he appeared to be extremely happy. How could I ruin such bliss?

I entwined my fingers and denied again. “No ‘Ammi. Alhamdulillah he is very considerate.” I lied and heard people letting out the breaths that they had been holding.

“Give her some time and she’ll bring you all my complaints.” Zayed’s voice said and I knew it was his fake trial of pretending to be normal.

“That means you are falling short.” Deemah registered.

“Of course he is falling short. He took the poor girl to Abu Dhabi instead of Switzerland.” Laylah joked, and they all laughed except for Zayed and me. We both plastered a fake smile on our lips. 

“No, he is my son and he will make it up to her. It just wasn’t the right timing for them.” Umm Zayed broke in and I wondered whether if she knew anything about us or not.

“Of course you will defend him. He is your beloved son.” Uncle Waleed stated and the women grinned.  

“La, ya Weldi. (No, my son)” Began Zayed’s grandma. “We don’t want any floundering. You shouldn’t fail to keep your loved ones gratified. Especially your wife, she is someone else’s daughter, an Amanah.” Advised the grandmother and everyone was silent for a while, taking in her words.

Until at length, when uncle Waleed broke the silence. “No, Mahra is no stranger to us. She is just like my own daughter.” He expressed, placing his hand on my head again. It took every ounce of my power to not burst into tears right there and then. I stared down at the floor, trying to control myself.

“Go easy on the boy.” Badr chimed in, looking at his nephew. “They are still new to each other.” He declared.

“Here goes the other defendant of Zayed.” Uncle Waleed proclaimed, resting back on the sofa, making everybody laugh again.

Once the sound of laughter slumbered; “Don’t worry about Zayed.” Badr added. “He doesn’t need telling.” Both nephew and uncle shared a cunning look, as if Badr comforted him that he’s got his back, and Zayed stared at him as if he already knew that.

In the midst of their conversation, Mona got up to serve the men some coffee. Uncle Waleed refused and announced that he was going to his room to rest. Umm Zayed followed her husband and aunt Hessa helped the grandmother to the guestroom as well. That was when I heard my husband say:

“Where is your daughter kholoud?” he asked eyeing Laylah, who looked around. I wondered who he was referring to because I found it hard to differentiate between the twins.

“They were just here.”

“I haven’t seen her.” Zayed whispered, but Mona heard him and got up.

“I’ll go call them and see what’s taking them so long!” She announced and left us.

“Are you tired Mahra?” Laylah pointed her considerate question at me while Zayed and Badr conversed in hushed tones.

“No, I’m fine.” I muttered, with a small smile. Truth be told, I really was tired and had very little sleep last night. Bet it was obvious on my face that’s why she was asking.

“If you want to rest, I’ll take you up to your room.” She suggested. Here Zayed broke his conversation with Badr and turned to look at us. The word ‘your room’ had clearly caught his attention.

I shook my head. “No, I am alright.” I repeated. 

Please, keep me far away from him and his room

“Okay, then we have a surprise for you.” Laylah and Deemah shared a grin while I stared at them, aghast.

I heard Zayed grunt. “You know I hate surprises.” He said, with a frown.

“You might just like this one.” Laylah retorted.

Zayed remained silent.

“Did you like the car Badr bought you, Zayed?” Deemah cut off. 

“Of course, Badr knows my taste.” Zayed replied.

Oh, so that car was a gift from his uncle!

“I was worried you might not like the color.” Deemah added, gazing at her husband.

“Since when do you know about cars?” Badr teased, making fun of his wife.

Badr and Deemah were a young couple, who shared a deep understanding and love that was shown clearly in their eyes. He definitely adored her and the Kuwaiti beauty seemed to be charmed by him as well.

“What about Mahra, did she like the apartment, Zayed?” Laylah asked. Was the apartment a gift too? They surely loved him a lot.

Zayed straightened in his seat: “Why don’t you ask her?” He answered her with a question. Laylah looked at me for a reply and I was still thinking of one when her twins walked in, followed by Mona, who held a decorated tray in her hand.

“Surprise!” the twins shouted out. One of them holding a video-camera and the other came to sit on the other side of her uncle. Leaving the space empty between us.

“This is a small welcoming gift that Mona and I had planned for you.” Laylah announced, smiling ear-to-ear.

It was unbelievably hard for me to see how unconditionally happy they were and how empty and sorrowful, I was. Every moment made me realize what the hell had I gotten myself in to. And from now on, everyday would be like this. Faking gestures and smiles. I wondered if he was going through the same thing. He put up a show so effortlessly, was it so hard for him too.

Mona walked to us, holding the tray in front of Zayed. I saw a ring and a pen surrounded with white and red flowers. Zayed looked up at her, clueless. He then stretched his hand, reaching for the pen but Mona pulled the tray back.

“Noooo, take the ring.” She cried, between laughs. “You have to put it on her finger.”  She sing-talked.

“Is this necessary?” Zayed asked.

“Of course it is. Now come on.” An overwhelming panic surged through me. I didn’t want him to touch me, I didn’t want him to hold my hand and renew our so called ‘marriage’. My heart started pounding and palms lost their warmth. “If you may.” Mona handed him the ring and I gulped the lump in my throat.

He extended his hand and looked up at my eyes, waiting for me to put my hand in his. His bitter eyes sent their storm at my poor self and a shiver ran down my spine. Aware that everyone was looking, I hesitantly placed my cold hand in his warm one, my fingers slightly shaking. He tightened his grip at my palm and inserted the ring in my ring finger. Renewing out fate.

I pulled away in time and realized that the twins were cheering, one of them filming us. Mona now made her way to me. I was glad to see that it wasn’t a ring that I had to deal with, just a pen. I could just hand it to him and that’ll be it.

“Mahra, you have to insert the pen in his front pocket.” She informed, and my eyes widened in surprise.

What was even the purpose of this? Embarrassing us?

I tried not to argue, even though I wanted to. Baring my heart in my chest and trying to remember how to breath, I leaned in and he fidgeted a little in his seat to give me easy access. As I inserted the pen in his pocket, I made sure to keep my gaze on my hands, not on his eyes, not his eyes.

But unfortunately, once I was done, I heard him whisper a; “Thank you.” and I looked up to those eyes. Those heart-piercing eyes that were the reason I destroyed ME.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

A loooooong chp. Hope you liked it.

~Lot of Love

~Wiity & Witch