Chapter 5

He walked away, leaving me behind, burdened with thoughts about my friend and her illusory love. He said there was a coldness in his relationship with my brother, all because of the blessings I supposedly bestowed on their relationship.

Let me tell you about the “blessings” that affected my relationship with my brother. Our relationship became very cold. We only spoke when necessary, like discussing household needs, since we shared an apartment away from our parents due to our studies. Or when he would say, “I’ll be late today,” or “I’m spending the day at my aunt’s house near ours.” In short, our conversations were reduced to mere words.

Where did that brother go, the one who would bother me with university gossip while I was deeply focused on my studies? Where did that brother go, the one who would surprise me with visits while I studied, proudly telling everyone, “This is my sister, under my protection,” making me feel as if I were walking on a mountain, with everyone below me appearing small, simply because I walked beside my brother, my pillar?

How often did girls, admiring him, gather around me, yet I never dangled him in front of them like some girls do with their brothers. I always told them frankly, “My brother won’t get married now; he’s set on remaining single until he turns thirty.” I even told my mother not to discuss marriage with him until then.

I miss him, even his temper when he’d find something in my clothes that annoyed him. I miss his request for his favorite cup of coffee, me complaining about my lack of time, and him begging, saying, “My head is going to explode.”

Have brotherhood and sisterhood really evaporated? Has this Faisal become a dividing line between my brother and me? Why all this for just a man who was rejected?

My relationship with my brother remained cold, occasionally warming but then quickly cooling again. The days of study dragged on as they always did. My friendship with Ahlam continued as it always had. Yet, I often tried to make her notice Faisal’s behavior, suggesting that maybe he was preoccupied with another girl or perhaps didn’t share her feelings. She would always respond, “You don’t know him beyond being your brother’s friend and classmate. He’s a friend of my father, and they have a strong business and personal relationship.”

I was shocked by this information and thought to myself, “Faisal, you sly one, how could you deny knowing her?”

My friend continued, telling me how Faisal would visit their home, discussing business matters with her father, and how she would join in on these discussions when it was time to give her father his insulin shot while Faisal was there. She began to share details about Faisal’s character, how he would lower his head in her presence and rarely lift it, and how she felt embarrassed by his shyness, wanting to stay but feeling compelled to leave the room.

She told me how her father had mentioned that Faisal expressed a desire to marry a girl from this country, not because of any shortcomings in the girls of his homeland, but because he felt his heart was tied to this place and he wanted to marry a girl from here. She told me how she built her dreams on those words, brimming with joy.

That’s when I interrupted her sharply, “Ahlam, does this mean he hasn’t confessed his feelings to you directly?”

She replied, “What more confession do you need than what he shared with my father? How else would you interpret his words, other than that he’s as attached to me as I am to him?”

It was then that I understood what he meant. My friend was clinging to an illusion, to words that weren’t even directed at her.

I prayed to God that this situation would pass peacefully, that Faisal would leave us without causing any more pain, for his name had become synonymous with separation. Since his name first entered my ears, separation has been my companion. First, there was the distance between my brother and me, and now, the impending separation between my friend and me stands on the threshold of our lives.

Days passed, and here we were in the exam hall, taking our final exams. I only encountered Faisal twice during this period—once in front of Ahlam’s house and once when we were stopped at a traffic light.

I didn’t look at him, and I had a strong feeling that he didn’t look at me either. I didn’t care. He was just a passerby in my life, and I fervently wished his relationship with my brother would end.

Don’t call me selfish; he’s just a stranger who should return to his homeland. I want my brother back. I want that kind, protective brother who filled my life with his laughter, like refreshing mist on a hot day. I want to scream, “I want my brother back!”

As for my relationship with Ahlam, it remained unchanged, but a growing caution and an unshakable unease took root within me. My heart was constantly heavy, gripped by a fear of the unknown.

Despite this, I always separated my studies from life’s troubles, so my exams went well, thank God. The time for farewells arrived, and I found it unusually heavy on my heart. I asked Ahlam if we could spend the last day of exams together at my place so I could cherish our time together, knowing we would be apart for the three-month summer break, which my fears told me might be a long, final farewell.

But Ahlam, deeply in love with Faisal, refused my request because he was coming to have lunch with her father—a chance she couldn’t miss, especially with Faisal finishing his studies, which meant he’d soon return to his homeland, and she wouldn’t see him for a long time.

She joked with me, “I’ll call you, but I won’t be able to meet him. You’re always around, but he’s a rare gem.”

I playfully tapped her on the shoulder and said, “May God bless you with your ‘gem.’ I just hope it isn’t a skillfully crafted fake.”

I tried to hide my true feelings behind the joke, pulling it from the depths of my soul. She laughed and said, “He’s a rare gem, no matter what you think, and time will prove it.”

I prayed for her, hoping God would grant her heart’s desires because she had a kind heart and deserved to have her dreams fulfilled.

And so, I bid her farewell. But I wondered, would we meet again, and how would that meeting be?