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Lying curled up in bed, silent, freezing tears accompanied by muffled sobbing slipped gently from her tightly closed eyelids. She squeezed them shut with a fierce intensity, making it obvious to any observer that she was desperately trying to recall the days of her childhood. She clutched a pillow tightly against her chest, her fingers nervously kneading it in a deep haze of contemplation. She just wanted to remember if she had any good memories at all.
It took her a long time to drift deep into thought before the faces of her parents floated into her mind and consciousness. She had only spent six to seven years with them, and back then, she had never imagined her life would turn out the way it did after they passed away.
She had never seen a man as exceptionally knowledgeable and gentle-hearted as her father. In this world, there was nothing he loved more than her. Even when he drank alcohol back then, she was too young to understand that it was alcohol, because he never harmed them. He would simply get drunk, return home late at night, and go straight to sleep without doing any work. Most of the time, she would only see her mother struggling to care for everything they needed. Yet, despite often finding them surrounded by hardship and anxiety, they never once argued or fought.
Her father would comb her hair whenever she was going to school, walk her there, and wait by the school gate until dismissal so they could walk back home together.
Her mother was the one who earned money for food and all their other necessities. From her perspective, life moved along peacefully without any turmoil—until the day her father died after being struck by a car.
They entered a period of extreme hardship. Previously, she could not even faint without recalling the immense love he showed her. Similarly, when she went to school, she would constantly look at the spot where he used to sit and wait for her. Sometimes, she would sit right there from morning until dismissal, crying and hoping he would return to pick her up.
Then her mother fell ill. From that moment on, all the pampering of her childhood vanished completely. She learned patience, cultivated a compassionate character, and learned how to care for the sick. Soon after, Allah took her mother as well, and she was sent to live with her uncle. Those few years she spent with her parents were the only good part of her childhood memories, even though for a long time she hated remembering him because it brought her nothing but grief over her lost parents.
Sometimes, those cool tears of hers would fall with a smile, while other times she would feel her heart pull upward so tightly that it felt as though it might burst right out of her chest.
Amidst this state, she felt as though someone was knocking on her door. Without opening her tightly shut eyelids, she stayed still. At first, the knocks were soft, but gradually they grew quite loud.
Slowly, she turned over, placed a hand on her soft face to wipe away her tears, and with a heavy, unthinking body, she got down and opened the bedroom door. She saw Khaleel standing there, a glass of cold water in his hand, watching the tracks of her tears.
She gave him a brief glance. Everything about him was intact, save perhaps for his cap, which was missing from his head; one of his hands was tucked inside his pocket. He greeted her, but she didn't utter a single word in response. She simply turned around, walked back to her bed, pulled the pillow, and rested her head back on it.
She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them when she felt him sit down right beside her edge of the bed.
Neither of them spoke a word. He gave her bed a slight tap, prompting her to look up. She saw him handing her a glass of water along with a pill. She accepted it and swallowed it without saying anything to him.
Silence settled between them. Halisa crossed her arms tightly, turned her head away with a frowning expression, signaling that she just wanted to be alone because he was beginning to irritate her. Meanwhile, inside his mind, he was hoping she would thank him and let him explain certain things he knew would confuse her about him. However, knowing her temperament, he didn't know where to begin.
"What do you want?" she uttered in a low voice, cutting through his thoughts.
Looking at her calmly, he asked, "Did you want to talk?"
Wanting to throw a stern attitude his way, she was cut off when he said, "Hey, I am your personal doctor, so there is nothing personal between us right now. It is my job and my duty to look after your mental health and the state you find yourself in."
Staring at him with her eyes, she retorted, "So what if I don't want to talk to you? Do you have to force me?"
With a hint of a cryptic smirk, he replied, "No, there is no compulsion in it, but I will persuade you, since I don't want to partake in sin. Come on, this isn't what I want, and I know you don't want it either. But can we just behave like our age today?"
Slowly sitting up, she asked, "What age?"
Without looking at her, he answered, "A matured age, I guess," noting that the age gap between them wasn't all that wide. Looking straight into his eyes, she said, "But I am the only matured mind here."
Observing the anger in her eyes and curling his lip, he said, "I disagree. I am also surprised that your mature mind is not strong enough to handle small matters. You were crying in here because Maryam brought up family gossip in front of you, isn't that so, or is it not?"
Interrupting him sharply, she said, "That's right. To you, family is what you call a small matter? Hmmmm... You really need a doctor for yourself."
Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "What doctor? My health is perfectly fine."
Softly, she replied, "Well, I am fine too; you just need a psychiatrist, period."
Softly, he asked, "Why?"
A heavy sigh escaped her, and she stood straight up right in front of him, looking down as he kept his gaze fixed on the floor without lifting it. She said, "A sick person cannot nurse another sick person, and you yourself are the kind of person who doesn't even understand who you are yet. You act like your life is perfect when it isn't. Do you think you can heal me like this? No, you can't. I only know this as a business transaction, but I can tell you who you are without even pausing for breath."
He slowly lifted his head and stared at her unblinkingly for two full minutes before saying, "Hmm, okay, tell me. I've actually been wanting to know who I am for a long time."
Teary-eyed and putting on a cool, dramatic demeanor, she said, "My time is valuable, so let's call it free advice. The worst thing that can happen to a human being in life is not knowing where they are heading with their life. Let's start from the beginning: I never had a family or childhood, but you have your family yet you keep pushing them away...
"On the day we went to the hospital together, I wanted your uncle to hear Grace's words and repent so I could forgive him long ago. Because I know that pride and a lack of emotional balance are the only things that can cause a person to refuse to forgive their parents, no matter what they did to them."
He hissed, his body visibly trembling, and stood up abruptly. Interrupting her while opening and closing his eyes in a glare, he said, "What brought up this topic? I don't want to hear it. Enough is enough. I don't want to hear my parents' names from your mouth ever again, you hear me? Because how dare you talk about my family? You must know that everything you are saying here is something you have no knowledge of, so just shut up and don't bring it up again."
Stepping even closer to him, she challenged him: "What is it that I have no knowledge of? The fact that you told your mother not to come to your house, or that she walked out crying that day because of your wife? And just now, your biological relatives came to be with you, and we were all happy, but you sent them away coldly like a monster."
Furious and raising his voice, he shouted, "Stop, stop it right there! I told you to stay out of this matter; it is none of your business. Do not... talk... about... my personal life... ever again! Stay in your limit, Halisa."
With fierce stubbornness, she shot back: "I will not stay in my limit, because I will not step out of your life. The truth is bitter—I learned that from you! Because back when you didn't even know my family, you told me their story just to humiliate me and associate me with a prostitute. But I won't do that to you. You said I am your patient, right? Why do you think I would stay with a doctor like you to fix my life when I am not even like you? My father never dismissed me, I never made my mother shed a tear, and I don't respond to anger with violence. If someone loves me sincerely for the sake of Allah, I am incapable of treating them with contempt, even if I don't love them. But the way you're treating your own wife, Amina Talba, right from the beginning, is fucking disgusting. Now, what is the crime of the people who brought you into this world, suffered, and raised you, and what is the crime of the woman who attempted to sacrifice her life just to be with you?"
His heart burned so intensely at these words that he was letting out hot breaths from within. He couldn't figure out what to say to her because of the sheer boiling rage inside his chest.
"Well, my personal life is not up for discussion. Therefore, I will not answer you, and I don't have time for you, you hear me?"
He turned angrily to leave, but she quickly grabbed his shirt. He half-turned, casting his reddened eyes down upon her.
Her face dry and hardened, she told him, "Where are you going? I'm not done yet. Because any person who cannot own up to their flaws has a dangerous lack of self-awareness. If you have any self-belief, you'll answer me, mister."
He yanked his shirt fiercely out of her grip, his mind completely disheveled, and said, "I value my space and time, so I expect you to respect that."
She retorted, "What respect? You just never seem to learn from your mistakes."
He swallowed a bitterly painful lump in his throat, retort-screwing his face as he said, "Mistakes? When were you even born, what do you even know about life? You're just so delusional it's almost entertaining to watch you speak."
Frowning further and staring right into his eyes, she said, "It's okay, I've already accepted the barest minimum from a loser like you."
In a blind rage, he yanked her toward him so violently that they slammed against the wall in a scramble. Nothing could be heard except the sound of their heavy, hot, and angry breaths brushing against one another.
He pinned her against the wall with one hand. Her eyes welled up with tears, and with a crying voice, she pleaded, "What is this? Let me go... please don't hurt me."
In the middle of their struggle, the finely knitted net on her long dress caught in the chain of his wristwatch. Even as they both frantically tried to untangle it, the warmth of their mingled breath was suffocating them, making it impossible for Halisa to endure.
She pulled fiercely at his hand, as if trying to snap his watch, and as she yanked it, the net tore with a loud rip, scraping his skin and stinging him.
He barked a warning at her: "Calm down!" But before he could even finish, she let out a sharp shriek, bursting into tears.
"Let me go, let me go!" With her other hand, she struck him hard across the chest, completely breaking his composure from within.
Suppressing his anger, he cupped her face in his hand and said, "Please calm down, Halisa, Halisa, look at me."
She looked at him, her tears spilling over his hand. "Please don't touch me! I am not your wife for you to touch my body whenever you please. Please take your hands off me, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"
Exasperated by her screaming, he shouted, "Did I do it on purpose? It wasn't my wish either; your dress caught on my watch, can't you see?"
She cried, "I don't care, just remove it! I don't want your body touching mine. You don't know the dignity of a woman, I will never want a man like you to touch me..."
Even though his mind was troubled by her words, he brushed her aside and went back to tearing the dress's net since untangling it seemed impossible. As he pulled, the fabric ripped further.
She shrieked at him as if he were a thief, grabbed the torn area with fierce strength, and raised her hand to slap him. With lightning speed, he caught her hand in an overpowering grip.
Almost shouting, he demanded, "What is this? What is wrong with you?"
She tried repeatedly to pull her hand back to slap him, but failed. Weeping, she asked, "What is wrong with me? You just tore my shirt—what if you rape me?"
He gasped, "What? Why would you say that?"
"Did I say it, or does your wife say it? She said you never slept with her normally, so why shouldn't I think you'll try to rape me since you tore my shirt?"
He shoved her away from him, flicking his hand in absolute fury. She nearly collapsed to the floor and barely managed to steady herself against the wall in sheer terror.
He clenched his fists tightly, biting his lip. It was the first time in his life he felt like slapping a woman. Enraged, he asked, "Are you mad?"
Weeping, she replied, "No, I'm not mad... I'm just losing interest in you."
He challenged, "Is that why you are calling me a rapist? In all my time with you in this house, have I ever tried to rape you?!"
Shaking her head and nodding at the same time, she sobbed, "I don't know... but you know what you did to me that rainy day. You monster, Allah ya isa (May Allah judge between us)..."
Interrupting her before she could catch her breath, he shook his head and said, "No, no, no! I just thought you were trying to help with my fever. My question is: have I ever tried to rape you?"
She answered, "I don't know, but since you did it to Amina, one day you'll do it to me too."
With a fierce roar, he called out her name, startling her so badly that she slumped to the floor in tears.
Pulling her up in immense distress, he demanded, "Did Amina tell you I'm a rapist? Tell me, Halisa!"
Terrified and angered by his sudden lunge, she stubbornly spat back: "Yes, yes, yes, yes! I'm not afraid of you! She's the one who told me this long ago. She even said you chase cheap women outside, that you mistreat her, and that she only started loving you because she saw you... you monster!"
Pulling her tight against his body until she lifted her teary eyes to meet his with deep anguish, he looked straight into her pupils and said, "That is not true! These are lies Amina made up. And the day I heard her telling you that, I confronted her, and she claimed she was telling you so you wouldn't feel like you were the only one in distress. She claimed she was doing this to save your mental health and keep our bond, and I've warned her about it! So, do you seriously think she would let me rape her?"
Her heart skipped a beat, especially seeing no trace of falsehood or playfulness in his expression. She knew she had driven him to the absolute peak of frustration today.
With a trembling voice, she whispered, "Yes... but you're lying to me now. She loves you, she'd do anything for you. Why would she fabricate lies against you if they weren't true?"
His voice dropping, he said, "Okay, let's call her up right now. I'll ask her right in front of you so she can repeat it to you yourself..."
Shaking her head, she refused: "I won't agree. You just want to deceive me because you know Amina loves you a lot and is afraid of you. She'll agree to anything you say just to keep you in her life, even if it hurts her."
He felt his heart seize with pain, completely lost on what to do. "Then what should I tell you so you'll believe me?"
Looking at him through tearful defiance, she asked, "If you want me to believe you, just tell me the truth." Softly, almost on the verge of tears, he asked, "What truth?"
Turning to lock eyes with him, she asked, "Why are you like this? The way you treated Amina before made me never think you'd do that to me, and just a few days ago you helped me and my sister, making me think you were a good person... But why are you so unjust to the people who love you? You can't be both good and bad at the same time—why can't you be real for once in your life?"
With a sudden burst of defiance she had never shown before, she shoved him angrily and said, "You make me sick! I never expected you to be this violent. What did she do to you that was so terrible that you had to beat her like that? I am so disappointed in you." With that, she broke down crying in front of him again.
A strange new wave of emotion resonated through her voice—an intensity he didn't even know existed within her heart—and it froze him in place, rendering him entirely unable to move or speak.
He caught the hand she was using to beat his chest, holding it as he kept his head bowed. A deep sense of anguish gripped his heart, for he had never imagined Halisa cared about him this much, let alone that she had taken the beating he gave Meenal so deeply to heart.
With a softened body, he supported her, and they stood up facing each other.
She wept softly, letting out sniffles, while his own eyes welled up with tears, turning stark red. Taking a heavy, shuddering breath, and closing and opening his eyes, he said, "You and I are not the same, Halisa. If I am violent, you are the very first woman I would ever raise my hand against in my life to strike, because you are the first woman audacious enough to raise her hand against my face."
"I know life hasn't been fair to you, but you cannot possibly understand what it feels like to experience the agony of losing parents—or worse, having parents and siblings who are all alive, yet separated from you by something far beyond your comprehension."
Quietly, her tears fell as she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, listening to the bitter disappointment lingering in his voice.
With blinking eyes and a slightly trembling voice, he continued: "A twist of fate caused a permanent misunderstanding between my father and me even before I was fully mature. When I returned to this country, I discovered that my father had already gone to the family of the woman I wanted to marry and abruptly called off the wedding, driven by the same thought you have—that I lacked proper upbringing and couldn't care for a good woman.
"As if that wasn't enough, your friend Amina targeted me with her love pursuit. I wasn't even healed from the pain of the public disrespect my father caused me, because I couldn't imagine how you would feel if your father publicly testified against your character. That girl waited for me for a good six to seven years until I finished my education, only for me to return and find her married to someone else, not me!
"I was trying to find peace in my life, trying to fix myself and my relationship with my family, but Amina made sure my father remained convinced that I was on the wrong path. No matter how much I told her to let me go, she refused—and I'm sure you know this. It's not like I led her on, so why are you angry at me? Why are you blaming me?
"She tried to kill herself nine times because of me! You only know her distress, but you have no idea what that caused me. My father's mood swings were constant; he eventually called me to say he regretted ever having me as his eldest son.
"Because Amina's case kept dragging his honor and reputation through the mud—his friends were constantly on his case, saying he failed to raise me properly. I lost my mind: what was my crime just because I said I didn't want to marry Amina? I'm not saying it's wrong for her to love me that way, but I wasn't even ready. The stress was overwhelming; all I wanted was to fix my life.
"Every single time news of Amina's suicide attempts over me spread, I would watch my mother plunged into sorrow and anxiety at home, because half the blame for everything that happened was placed on her. My father, his relatives, neighbors—everyone.
"It reached a point where my mother felt it would be better if I just married Amina so my father's mind could be at peace. Every day, my mother would beg me to sacrifice my own life to save Amina's.
"I was in agony, but seeing that I simply had to swallow my ego to save my mother's tears, I agreed to the marriage. But the moment I agreed, Amina started creating scenes over the house we were supposed to live in. I couldn't take it anymore and said I was calling off the wedding. Then you came to my office and slapped me—I'm sure you'll never forget that day. My resolve to call off the wedding grew stronger, but my mother begged me that day while on her knees, and she told me something I will never, ever forget in my life."
Pausing briefly to swallow the tears pooling in his eyes, he said, "Halisa, don't let anyone deceive you into thinking that love is enough to sustain a marriage. I thought so too. I told myself if I just kept my peace, everything would go well. Amina came to my house knowing nothing about married life, and she detested my family—but none of that mattered to me because my family was the one that placed her in a higher position than mine.
"My mother, who had shed tears over her just to bring happiness to another person's life at the expense of her own child's joy, became the target of Amina's insults and abuse. But do you know what happened after that? My mother is still rooting for her! Despite everything Amina did to her that day, she never told me to divorce her or throw her out for striking her.
"So, what do you want, Halisa? How do you think I am feeling? You think I view myself as so perfect... but no. It is only you who thinks your friend is perfect!"
She watched the tears pooling in his eyes that refused to fall, her body growing completely numb.
With a soft voice and falling tears, she whispered, "I am not judging you..."
Interrupting her, he said, "Yes, you are."
Gently taking her hand in his, he looked straight into her eyes as cool tears slid down her face.
A bittersweet, broken smile escaped him through a soft, shallow breath. "Hey, next time, don't try to help me when I'm sick. Even if I'm dying, leave me be. I want you to know that I deeply regret making you feel that whatever happened that night was me, in my right mind, trying to take advantage of your body or rape you.
"That night, I wasn't in my right senses; maybe I didn't fully know what I was doing, but you certainly knew what you were doing." He curled his lip. "Well, since I'm the one at fault, so be it. I'll try my best to talk to my boss about all your complaints; maybe your wish will be granted.
"Whether you believe me or not, I won't care, because you've already told me what's on your mind about me, right? Okay, think whatever you want. It's your life; you should know better!"
As he finished speaking, she watched him release her hand and turn to walk away.
Summary
This chapter captures an intense, emotionally charged confrontation between Halisa and Khaleel.
The narrative opens with Halisa trapped in a melancholic reverie, weeping silently as she searches her memory for any fragments of a happy childhood before her parents were tragically killed in a car accident, leaving her to endure a harsh upbringing under her uncle's care. Her solitude is interrupted when Khaleel knocks on her door with medicine and water. Still harboring deep resentment and viewing him with disdain, Halisa rebuffs his attempts at comfort.
As tension mounts, the interaction escalates into a fierce argument. Halisa fiercely attacks Khaleel's character, accusing him of being heartless toward his family (including his wife, Amina) and even falsely accusing him of predatory behavior due to a misunderstanding over a torn shirt during a scuffle. Stung by her harsh judgments, Khaleel finally breaks his silence and lays bare his deeply painful past: the suffocating pressure from his father, Amina’s relentless obsession and repeated suicide attempts, and how he was forced into a toxic marriage solely to protect his mother's peace of mind.
Hearing the raw, tragic truth behind Khaleel's hardened exterior shatters Halisa's rigid perceptions. Her anger dissolves into deep empathy and remorse as she realizes the heavy emotional burdens he carries. The chapter closes on a poignant note of raw vulnerability, highlighting the profound psychological wounds and shared trauma that paradoxically draw these two complex individuals closer together.
