Chapter 9

Hossam left with my mother, leaving me staring at their retreating feet before my gaze shifted to the feet of the man sitting before me. As soon as we were alone, his feet began to move towards me.

Oh God, why are those feet heading my way? What does he want? I quickly looked away, focusing instead on the small stain on the far corner of the table in the middle of the guest room, pondering how I might get rid of it. But then, a massive earthquake seemed to occur beside me as the tall figure sat down next to me, gently took my hand, and planted a soft kiss on it. Then, he leaned in and kissed my forehead. Throughout all this, I felt completely out of it, unsure if I had lost my focus, my voice, or all my senses.

I gathered my courage, mustered all my strength, and as soon as he placed his hand around my shoulder, I pulled away and said, “Please, respect the boundaries.”

He replied in a whisper, glancing at his watch, “About four hours ago, those boundaries were removed by a legitimate and official contract witnessed by others. So, relax, the boundaries are gone—try to accept it.”

I glared at him—don’t ask me how I managed it because I don’t know how that look found its way to my eyes, but I shot it at him.

He responded with a loud, cheerful laugh, followed by a playful gesture that tousled my hair, sending me back into a state of sensory overload. His serious tone snapped me out of it as he said, “Mona, please, we are now husband and wife. Any bad behavior from me will upset both of us, and any misstep from you will have the same effect. So, we need to set some ground rules for our relationship if we want to have a happy life. Do you agree with what I’m saying?”

I answered sincerely, “Yes,” and meant every word of it.

“Good,” he said, “let’s start with the most difficult issue—Ahlam.” He spoke quickly before I could interrupt. “Mona, trust me, Ahlam has never been more than the daughter of someone I have a business relationship with. She never even reached the level of a sister to me because I don’t see anything in her that resembles my sisters. She’s a stranger to me in every sense of the word. Even when you told me that story, which made me realize Ahlam had feelings for me, I tried to see her as a potential wife out of sympathy for her attachment. But I couldn’t. There are vast distances between us that can’t be bridged, and there were feelings for you in my heart that I couldn’t ignore.”

“Mona, tell me, did I sin against Ahlam?”

I answered, fully convinced, “No, you didn’t. She was just a girl with dreams, and you had no idea about her feelings.”

He laughed and said, “I should thank Ahlam—she managed to get you to speak in full sentences without any hesitation.”

I fell silent, lowering my head. Then he spoke again, more seriously, “I hope Ahlam is a chapter that’s closed in our lives.”

I looked at him, puzzled, and asked, “What do you mean by ‘closed’?”

He clarified, “Don’t just take the headlines from what I’m saying. I mean closed in our marital life. As for your friendship with her, that’s entirely up to you. I won’t interfere, especially since I’m aware of Ahlam’s good character. She’s a good friend to you, and I hope I’m not the reason for the end of your friendship.”

I replied, “But you were the reason.”

He responded with a tone of regret, “I’m sorry for what happened between you and her, but as for her side of things, I’m not responsible for that. And please, let’s put this topic to rest.”

I answered, “As you wish. I have no desire to discuss it further either.”

He joked, “Because I’m generous, and with you, my generosity increases, and because I see that parting with Ahlam has painted a picture of sadness in your eyes, I’ll make her closer to you—but only with your consent, of course.”

Excitedly, I asked, “How? Tell me, please!” I grabbed his hand, trying to coax him to reveal how, without realizing what I was doing in my excitement. He moved closer, looking into my eyes with a mischievous smile.

He played with my hand, saying, “Make her a second wife, and she’ll always be close to you and her beloved, and the conflict between you will disappear.”

I stood up, furious, because I couldn’t find a word in my vocabulary to express my anger, so I decided to leave. But as soon as I got up, he grabbed my hand, stood in front of me, and tried to pull me back to my seat. I resisted, telling him angrily, “Get lost with your jokes!”

He pulled me back firmly, seating me again, kissed my cheek, and said, “What’s wrong? After all the effort I went through to have you, should I marry a second time? Relax, and get used to my playful mood sometimes and my serious mood at others.”

I replied, “I can handle them one at a time, but if they’re mixed together, I won’t be able to cope.”

He smiled and said, “You’ll have to handle all my moods, got it?” He touched the center of my forehead.

I responded, “Got it,” although I wasn’t sure if I was the one who said it or if someone else had spoken for me.

He looked at me for a long moment and said he’d better leave before Hossam kicked him out.

I thought to myself, “Hossam kick you out? Not likely!”

He left, his scent lingering in the air, his laughter echoing through the room, and my heartbeats building a bridge between my heart and his.

I’d be crazy to say I wasn’t falling for him. Why wouldn’t I fall for him? He’s my husband according to God’s law and the Prophet’s teachings. If I can’t build my dreams with him, who else would I build them with?

You’re probably waiting for a detailed description of him. Honestly, I couldn’t get a clear picture, but his eyes were remarkable—a mix of hazel and brown, with a sharp intelligence in them. He’s taller than my brother Hossam, who is 188 cm tall. That’s all I noticed. I hope this satisfies some of your curiosity.

When I left the guest room, I found the house very quiet. I felt immense gratitude to my brother and mother for giving me the space to understand my feelings.

I quickly retreated to my room, locked the door, and lay on my bed, fully dressed, my thoughts drifting back to those hazel eyes and that wonderful laughter.

How I wished I had a friend who had gone through a marriage contract so I could ask her if she was able to sleep the night she signed hers. Then I wouldn’t be surprised by my own insomnia.

Two hours had passed since Faisal left, and now the clock announced it was one in the morning. A minute later, my phone rang. I looked at it, and the number was unfamiliar, but my heart started drumming, objecting to the term “unfamiliar,” insisting it was someone close. Or was it just my wishful thinking, hoping for someone to share my sleepless night?

I didn’t answer the call, but then a message came through. I opened it quickly, and my heart threw another party as my eyes danced with joy. In the midst of this excitement, the phone rang again. The same number. The message contained only his name.

I convinced my rational mind that it was someone trustworthy, so I hit the green button, and his voice reached me on the other end, saying, “Peace be upon you.”

I answered with trembling words, “Peace be upon you, too.”

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Then why are you still awake?” His tone suggested he was thinking, “Are you sleepless because of me?”

I answered, “I’m trying to review some medical information from my books. Studying medicine requires continuous review.” What a weak excuse from a girl who had lost focus!

He replied with a hint of disappointment, “May God help you,” then added, “I thought the reason for your late night might be the same as mine.”

I didn’t respond—what could I say? That he was excellent at rendering me speechless?

Sensing my silence, he said, “So, we’re both awake for the same reason.”

With my tongue still tied, he continued, “How about I tell you about myself and my family so we can make good use of this sleepless time?” He paused…then asked, “Is that okay?”

After a brief silence, and after he repeated the question, I answered in a very soft voice, as if afraid it might reach him, “Sure, it’s important. I only know your name and that you’re Hossam’s closest friend, and Hossam has vouched for your good character.”

He laughed heartily, a sound that seemed to fill the still night.

“So, Hossam gave me a signed guarantee?”

He then asked, “Were you in need of such a guarantee?”

I replied honestly, “Yes, I definitely needed it.”

He asked, “Has Hossam proven himself truthful, making the guarantee unnecessary now?”

I responded, “You can’t cancel a guarantee in just one day. What company would accept that?”

He replied, “There’s a company willing to take losses, not caring about profit. Even if profit exists, it doesn’t feel it.”

I answered, “What a poorly managed company!”

He said, “It’s a company governed by emotions and feelings, not by profit and loss. Do you know this company?”

I realized what he was hinting at and fell silent.

He added, “Ah, so you do know the name of this company—the only one whose name is difficult to pronounce in the early days of knowing someone.”

Then he continued, “But let’s not dwell on that. I’m responsible for bringing you into this company as a partner with a fifty percent share, God willing.”

“And now, let me tell you about Faisal and his family. Listen, dear…”

Thank God phones can’t transmit images along with sound because my smile would have given me away, confirming that I had already accepted the partnership in the company of love that would unite us.

Faisal continued, “My name is Faisal, son of so-and-so. I have three sisters, all older than me and married. I have one brother, your age, who graduated in English and works as a translator for a government department under the Ministry of Commerce in our country. As for my sisters, they all married after my father’s death, except my youngest sister, who is married to our cousin, the one who attended our marriage contract.”

His voice then took on a more prideful tone as he said, “And now, the cherry on top—our greatest asset—my dear mother. She’s a simple woman who firmly believes in the saying, ‘Contentment is a treasure that never fades.’ Her faith is unmatched, and she has a heart of gold.”

I listened to him intently, my mind capturing every word. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said my mind was recording every word, ready to replay them for anyone who asked.

Faisal concluded with, “When I’m with my mother, I feel like the world stops. All I wish for is that there never comes a day when I hear her complain. Every household has its problems; all I ask is that you remember this if my mother ever says anything that might upset you, even though I’m sure that won’t happen. Still, it’s important to mention, and I understand the environmental differences you’ll experience.”

I replied, “Your mother is like mine. Don’t scare me on our first phone call, even before I’ve met your family.”

He answered, “On the contrary, I’m trying to give you a clear picture so we can avoid these problems when we start our real life together.”

I sincerely told him, “I’m a peaceful girl. There won’t be any problems from my side. But at the same time, a life without disagreements is unbearable—just keep it reasonable.”

He responded, “Now I understand why I was so drawn to proposing to you even before getting to know you.”

To steer the conversation away from his true intent and to avoid letting him put me on the spot, I asked, “How did you and Hossam become friends? During your proposal, Hossam made me feel like you were more important to him than I was, and I’m his only sister.”

He laughed and asked, “Did that bother you?”

“Yes, a lot,” I admitted.

He replied, “Oh, what a heart you have, holding a grudge against someone you don’t even know.”

I answered, “Were you really that unaware?”

“To some extent,” he said.

We continued talking, and he told me that his relationship with Hossam was more like that of brothers, maybe even closer. He saw himself in Hossam—similar circumstances, like the loss of a father, Hossam’s delay in his studies for a year due to our father’s death, Hossam’s character, and his dedication to his family. All these factors made him gravitate towards Hossam and strengthened his desire to be closer to our family.

I was especially surprised when he said that he was among the people who took Hossam to the hospital after his accident, and when he first saw me, he had a feeling I would be his future wife.

I told him, “You have blind confidence in yourself.”

He answered with certainty, “My confidence is in my Creator and in my pursuit of goodness, which strengthens my self-confidence.”

Didn’t I tell you he has a way of leaving me speechless?

Our conversation went on until I heard a knock on the door and Hossam’s voice saying, “It’s time for prayer. Tell whoever’s on the phone that you have to pray and that he has a meeting with Uncle Khalid at eight in the morning about the car deal.”

I felt guilty towards Faisal and deeply embarrassed by Hossam’s remark. I relayed the message to Faisal and apologized, saying, “I’m sorry, you’ll be late for your appointment because you stayed up late talking to me.”

He said, “I won’t be late because, simply put, I won’t sleep. So, relax.” I tried to protest, but he cut me off, saying, “Goodbye, go pray, try to relax, and do plenty of istighfar. Sleep will come once you temporarily push Faisal out of your mind.”

All I could manage to say was, “Goodbye.”