Chapter 15

The emotions I felt were indescribable. It was as if I was soaring in a lush garden, surrounded by the joyful chirping of birds, and the cool breeze of spring embraced me with a warm chill. Despite this, I didn’t turn to see the owner of that tender voice, nor did I speak. I knew that if I turned, I would throw myself into his arms, and if I spoke, the tears would pour down my face.

I felt the sound of approaching footsteps, and then a gentle hand wrapped around me, kissed my forehead, and held me close. That was when the tears began to fall, and he wiped them away silently.

After a while, he broke the silence. "Did you really think I was at peace during the days I stayed away from you?"

I replied, "It wasn’t just days; it was a month and ten days."

He said, "A month and ten days where my soul felt detached from my body. But for our life to last forever, we need times of disagreement and distance so that we can grow closer and understand each other better. What do you think?"

I looked at him with doubt in my eyes, as if to say, “Do you really believe that?”

He smiled gently and said, "Erase that look from your eyes; I don’t deserve it." Then he held me close again, reassuring me with his warmth.

I pulled away slightly to finish making the coffee, and just like that, the rift between us ended as quickly as it had begun.

It's often pride that takes hold of our minds, causing us to clash with sadness and hesitate to take a step towards happiness. I believe that life needs a balance of joy, sorrow, and even boredom for us to truly appreciate its value. The sweetness of happiness is felt most after pain, and the satisfaction of hard work after boredom. That's why, whenever I face problems with Faisal, I thank God for them, knowing that they bring us closer and help us understand each other better.

I owe much of my perspective to the wise advice of my dear friend, Wafaa. When I once confided in her about my troubles, she told me, "When the conflict ends, don’t dwell too much on what caused it, or you might reopen old wounds and turn all your issues into cycles of conflict followed by blame, and then conflict again." She advised me to be flexible in my words, reminding me that a few well-chosen words can convey much more than a lengthy argument.

How grateful I am for Wafaa and how lucky I am to have her in my life.

With a clear and happy mind, I tackled my midterm exams. During exam time, all the students are on campus, including my friend Ahlem, who surprised everyone with the news of her engagement to a relative of her mother. I was genuinely happy for her, from the bottom of my heart.

You might think I was relieved to be rid of her, but that’s not the case at all. She is my friend, and I wished for her to feel the same joy with her fiancé that I felt with Faisal. However, she caught me off guard when she said, “Didn’t Faisal tell you? He attended my engagement ceremony.”

I was indeed surprised, but I quickly composed myself and responded, "He did mention it, but I hesitated to call, thinking my call might not be welcome."

She didn’t say anything to rekindle the hope of our friendship. All she said was, "Faisal’s presence was enough; there was no need for you to attend or call."

In other words, she had deliberately invited Faisal without inviting me. But it doesn’t matter. I still wish her happiness. I’m not trying to be perfect, but what can I do if this is how she thinks? May God guide her and grant her peace of mind.

As for me, I couldn’t bring myself to discuss Ahlem’s engagement or Faisal’s attendance at her event with him, but I also couldn’t stay silent. I simmered with frustration until I finally exploded at him, although the situation didn’t warrant such an outburst. It was his attendance at Ahlem’s engagement without informing me that triggered it.

Let me tell you what led to my outburst. After the exams, and because I hadn’t been in much contact with Faisal during that time, we went out together. Faisal wanted to buy gifts for his family since he was planning to travel soon, so we shopped and enjoyed each other's company. The trouble began when he wanted to buy some gold jewelry, and I suggested we visit the jeweler my family deals with.

We entered Uncle Ahmad’s jewelry store, where he welcomed us warmly and congratulated us. He showed Faisal some unique pieces and proudly mentioned that they were exclusive to his store. As Faisal called his mother to tell her about the jewelry, I learned that the pieces were intended for Faisal’s cousin, who had recently completed her master’s degree and returned to their country.

I didn’t think much of it, but then Faisal made a joke that ignited a fire in my heart. He said, “Heba is my mother’s top candidate to be my wife.”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence. My anger, which had been smoldering for some time, flared up. I snapped, "Why did you come to me if there were other candidates with rankings to be your wife? I am the daughter of a respected family, and many would jump at the chance to be close to us through me. I don’t need someone who has other candidates besides me."

My words were childish and hurtful, but Faisal endured them in silence. He drove me home without saying a word, and as soon as I stepped out of the car, he sped away.

Once I calmed down, I tried calling him, but he wouldn’t answer. I wanted to explain the real reason for my anger, but he wouldn’t pick up the phone. I kept trying, but he remained unresponsive.

The world turned dark around me, and that spring break became the worst one I had ever experienced. I grew to despise being engaged, despised how attached I had become to Faisal, and even hated how my heart beat to the rhythm of his name.

Why did it have to be me who went through all this? Is this what happens to every engaged couple? People always say that the engagement period is the sweetest time before marriage, so why does it feel so heavy for me?

I sought forgiveness from God and tried to remember how kind Faisal had been, how generous, how he never held back from helping me financially or emotionally. I thought of how he stood by Hassam as he prepared to start his company and all the other things he had done for me. But that’s human nature—we see the worst when we’re angry, and we overlook the good.

Now, here I was, feeling lost and confused, unsure of how to mend things with Faisal, unsure of how to move forward from this conflict that had shaken my heart.