The novel (The Graveyard Butterfly) Part One

 (Cemetery Butterfly)

                                           

the introduction

She was lying on the sidewalk, piled up between mountains of garbage in a secluded spot, her limbs bound, her blood, the most precious thing she owned, stained her clothes, stained the dirty papers scattered around her, even the dirt was stained with blood as a silent witness to her tragedy, her tears asleep, dry on her cheeks when they found her one morning.

They gathered her up and threw her in the back of a car, like an old bag no longer fit to carry clothes. The doctor didn't come despite her exhaustion. Everyone was silent. A crow flew over their heads.

She could not imagine how a human being could become an outcast due to a sin committed against his will, that he could lose his being and his humanity and turn into a mere neglected animal locked in a narrow room.

Enough beating!! She was screaming with torn clothes, a head with most of its hair burned, a swollen wrist, wounded lips, and eyes that had dried up of tears. You raise your voice, you daughter of... a... K, after you smeared our heads with mud??

I swear to God it was against my will. Have mercy on me, Dad??

Until that moment, you didn't see anything. A high-pitched voice came from far away. He was dragging a wooden stick behind him. She heard the sound of it clattering on the ground before it rose into the air and he slammed it down on her back, carving a tunnel in her back.

Taqi fell to the ground, unable or unwilling to resist, as happens to every person who has lost the will to live, but even those whose souls have departed far away and have become mere bodies feel pain!!

The blows to her back and stomach continued as she tried to shield herself with her swollen hand. “They’ll kill her, Dad?” Her brother had positioned himself between Taqi and her father. Taqi crawled towards her room. Through her swollen eyes, she could see her silent mother heaping dirt on her head.

When she reached her room, she couldn't lie down on her bed. She threw her body on the floor next to the bed and burst into tears. Her body was burning with pain, but her misery was greater than that. The words she heard outside hurt her more.

Outside the room there was a funeral tent with no mourners, the father was sighing with anger and his chest rising and falling, the mother was silent like a corpse, the eldest brother swore by all the oaths of Muslims that he would kill her tonight, she would never see the sun again, it was a scandal that was not expected, we would never be able to raise our heads again in the neighborhood.

But she was raped!! It wasn't her fault, her younger brother defended her.

Shut up you son of a bitch! A woman doesn't open her legs unless she wants to! His father shouted, warning him!!

But she's my sister, not a whore, dad?

I told you to shut up, get out of my sight now.

Her body was trembling like a butterfly wetting its wings, unbearable pain raping her body, motionless, curled up and there was nothing but torment, after a while she realized that whatever was going on outside, she was not part of it, all choices were equal for her, they killed her, they let her live, it made no difference, what can a person do without a family that does not defend him?

She didn't know how morning came to her. When she opened her eyes, her whole body was swollen and there was a cautious silence outside. Those are the times when we feel that things have changed for the better. The next day passed without any significant events except for insults, cursing and apprehension about what was to come. Not a single person entered her room.

She didn't dare to leave her room as if there was a monster waiting for her outside. She urinated inside her underwear without feeling ashamed.

With the days, she learned that sleeping after five o'clock became a dream. She opens her eyes, prays the dawn prayer and asks God to take her sinful soul. She prepares breakfast for the brothers and their wives, but does not eat with them because she does not honor them. She is a maid who washes, wipes, cooks, irons, curses, and hits.

The street is forbidden, the phone is forbidden, the TV is forbidden, even talking is forbidden, feeling tired is forbidden, even a smile is forbidden for the dishonorable.

She died, her father used to say, and this is how they answered the questions of her friends, family, and neighbors.

He said he would marry me at the request of his mother, who was my mother's friend before she passed away. I was going through a difficult time with a merciless stepmother who never stopped creating problems. I was ready to give up anything to get out of the house, even if it was just a marriage on paper.

I knew his mother and she loved me. I would live with her in one place and that was more than enough for me. The important thing was to escape from my domineering stepmother who made my father beat me more than once.

It was a big wedding he organized for us, I didn't expect that especially after the words he kept repeating, "I don't love you and I married you out of pity for my sick mother."

The wedding was over and I got into his car. Before he drove off, I asked him, "Where is your mother? I was expecting her to come home with us."

He said we wouldn't live with my mother but in a separate apartment far away from us. I hadn't imagined that, but I couldn't refuse.

We arrived at our apartment, I changed my clothes and put on my nightgown while he was in the bathroom cleaning himself

I waited for him in the hall, when he came out he looked at me with disgust, he kept staring at me until I almost cried, he said I will not touch you, what do you think you are doing?

I said nothing, I'm sorry

He said, "You are not really my wife. Don't forget that. Even if we live in the same apartment, don't think that I consider you my wife."

I spent that night crying, blaming myself for what I had done. In the following days, I made sure to get fully dressed, do my housework, wash, sweep, cook and not open my mouth. He did not like any food I made and often smashed the plates and threw them on the floor.

I put up with all that, he spent a lot of time at work and I found comfort during those hours.

But this day was different. My husband came with a beautiful young woman, many times prettier than me, wearing immodest clothes. She welcomed the guest and prepared the food. They sat at the table and I followed them after I finished. He gestured to me with his hand to leave and not sit with them.

I was overcome with shame and shocked by his behavior. I went to my room, buried my head in the pillow, and cried from the humiliation and disgrace.

I said when that girl leaves I will ask him if I can spend a few days with his mother.

But the girl didn't leave. He called me after he finished eating and ordered me to clean the table. He pulled the girl behind him towards our bedroom while I watched him in astonishment and closed the door.

While I was cleaning the dishes, I could hear her groaning and my heart was breaking. In my bedroom, on my bed, I was being betrayed right under my eyes.

She hit my ears, I endured it until he finished, then he left the room while the girl remained lying in my room

After he cleaned himself up I met him and said I didn't agree with what he was doing. Even if I was his wife on paper, that didn't allow him to bring a prostitute into the apartment.

He can do whatever he wants but outside my house.

He listened silently until I finished, then without saying a word I received a strong slap on my face. He said I picked you up from the street, I saved you from your stepmother. He wrapped my hair around his hand and threw me to the ground, sweeping me across the floor as he dragged me towards the apartment door.

He opened the door and shouted, "If you don't like my way, go to your stepmother. She will welcome you and carry you off the face of the earth."

He was pressuring me, it was impossible for me to return to my father's house, he would throw me out into the street especially after I ruined my relationship with him and accused him of wronging me after the wedding

He shouted go away, I froze in place and didn't move, where do I go? I asked myself and the answer was no place!

Thank God I'm sheltering you in my apartment and don't open your mouth again or I'll throw you out into the street

Silent, humiliated, defeated, broken, he slapped me again and ordered me to go to my room.

While I was in my room, I heard the music, their laughter as they danced. Night had fallen, but the girl did not leave. She spent the night in our apartment in my husband’s arms.

I was tossing and turning on my bed while the fire consumed me. Why did life make me wallow in the mud? What did I do to deserve all this?

I tried to reach his phone to call his mother for help. Since my marriage, my husband has not allowed me to have a phone.

But the phone was next to him and I couldn't reach it without him noticing me.

In the morning, before he went to work, as if he realized what I was thinking, he warned me. He said, “If you tell my mother one word, I will divorce you like a dog.”

All the world's attempts to stop me from expelling you will not succeed.

Put your tongue in your mouth, I told you from the beginning that I don't consider you my wife and you accepted that

I said yes I agreed but I expected to live with your mother to serve her?

There is a maid working for my mother's comfort, you will not leave the apartment unless I allow you to.

Do you understand?

Don't wake Yara up, don't disturb her, and don't let her complain about you. If she asks you to do anything, you have to do it. Anything, do you understand?

I said yes

Yara woke up in the afternoon. I was sitting in the living room biting my nails. She didn't greet me. She took a hot shower and asked me to prepare lunch for her.

She asked for a light meal so as not to affect her diet. I complied, prepared the food and sat counting the minutes and hours until she left.

But Yara sat in front of the TV, moving around the apartment as if it was hers, entering one room and exiting another, even my room.

My husband called her and I knew that he was asking her about my behavior with her, as she kept saying, “Everything is fine.” No, nothing, I swear.

After my husband called her, she received another call. She did not answer it in front of me, but in the bedroom, and she closed the door behind her.

All this time we didn't exchange a single word, she said to me, I have to leave, when Moody comes back tell him I left, my husband's name was Mahmoud and she called him by that name

I said I won't tell him anything, you call him and tell him whatever you want

She vomited a smile and looked at me for a minute then left me and went away

When my husband came he asked me about her, I said I don't know where she went, she asked me not to disturb her

He stood in the middle of the apartment, took out his phone and dialed her number. She didn't answer. He was muttering, "Why did that idiot leave?"

I said, "What's all this fuss about? He doesn't really consider me his wife, he doesn't even consider me a human being."

I ate the food I prepared with disgust, smashed the plates, didn't speak, cleaned everything and went to my room sadly

He shouted from behind me, Where to?

I said I would sit in my room

He said, "Daughter, may I permit you?"

I said no, but I always do that, should I leave you alone?

!! 2.!

Take your time, my dear....!!

Obeying me... doesn't mean you always do it, or that for some reason I didn't notice that I agreed!!

He ordered me to come, grabbed my arm angrily, pulled me towards him, stared at me with contempt, I knew he was very angry, and that I would punish and beat him by all means until his tantrum ended or he was exhausted, whichever was closest!

I quickly said, apologizing, “I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have asked your permission.”

He let go of my arm and kept staring at me. After a long silence, he said:

You are a coward, you suppress words for fear of me, you live the most miserable life and you do not complain, come closer to me, pull my ear, whisper I know that you hate me, you cannot stand me, you wish for my death, but your fear prevents you from expressing your displeasure

His lips revealed a triumphant smile, he raised his hand and motioned for me to leave.

Before I sat down on my bed, he called me again, ordering me to make him a cup of tea.

At that time, he was trying to call Yara, but he didn't receive a response. He threw the phone on the sofa and kicked the tea tray with his foot.

I swear on my mother's life, I won't raise you

I bent down in front of him to clean up the broken glass. I stayed for a few minutes and when I finished I saw him staring at my body intently.

He got up from his seat, changed his clothes quickly as if he was running away, and left the house.

As soon as the door closed, I swallowed my breath. I lay down on the couch, his gaze never leaving my face as he stared at my body.

I wonder what he was thinking about?

I have a fit body and I have some beauty. I got up from my place and stood in front of the mirror. Is it possible that he liked me?

After two hours he called me, ordered me to bring the food, he asked for certain items, I said some of them were not available

He ordered me to buy it from the market and come back quickly. He swore that when he came back, if the food wasn't ready, he would hang me upside down like a sacrificial animal.

It was the first time I went out into the street since my wedding night. I enjoyed everything, even the sun looked unusually beautiful to me!!

I quickly bought everything, I thought about running away but I had nowhere to go, and that look gave me hope that maybe he was thinking of me in a way other than being his broken servant.

Driven by that hope, I quickly made the food. Before he arrived, I changed my clothes and got ready. With the first knock on the apartment door, I opened it.

He rushed inside, pulling behind him a girl in sportswear, very slim and elegant, half staggering and laughing.

Her hair was in a long braid down to her waist, and she had blue earrings in her ears.

I stared at the girl in astonishment. Why did I stand there for so long? He asked me sarcastically, “Do you like her?”

I quickly recovered myself, went into the kitchen, arranged the plates on the table, and headed to my room.

He asked me to stay with them. I sat on the seat next to the girl and saw with my own eyes how he was teasing her without shame.

My hopes were shattered as I thought that his view of me had finally changed.

I was distracted when he said you look elegant today, can I know why?

The word came to the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. I said politely, “If you don’t like my outfit, I can change it.”

He said you are so cold, why don't you get angry? Get angry, explode, scream, smash the furniture?

I said, looking down, "There's nothing worth it."

He shouted angrily, "Aren't you jealous of me?"

I said in a low tone, I know that you don't consider me your wife and I'm not important in your life. I'm nothing in your life, why should I be jealous in your opinion?

He shouted, "Get out of my sight quickly. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today." He kissed the girl on the lips and then continued, "I don't want to spoil it."

I entered my room without caring, blaming myself for my dreamy thoughts. I changed my clothes, put on a short nightgown, lay on my bed, closed my eyes, covered my ears so I wouldn't hear their voices, and fell asleep for half an hour.

Then I opened my eyes to the touch of his hand that he was passing over my bare leg. I got up in a panic.

I said I'm sorry I fell asleep, I dared to ask him how much time had passed?

He said with displeasure, half an hour.

I said while covering myself with the blanket, "You finished quickly?"

He looked at me while I was covering my body, smiled and said yes

He was sitting in the living room watching TV. I went into the bedroom to tidy it up and found it as it was, unused.

I smiled, I thought, the bed hasn't been used, it's only been half an hour

He didn't like that girl, then I remembered him fondling my leg, I said is it possible that he is really thinking about me?

I made him do a lot of things, go to the kitchen and come back, scan the rooms not for anything but to try to get him to talk if there was something he wanted to say

He didn't pay me the slightest attention, he neglected me very much in his mind, every time I give myself hope I get slapped hard and receive punishment.

I usually sit near him so I can hear him when he asks for something. I don't need his insults, blame, or beating.

But that night he was calm and didn't try to beat me up.

When it was midnight, I asked his permission to sleep.

He let me and when I went to my room to sleep

He said no, tonight you will sleep next to me in the bedroom

انصعت لأمره، رقدت علي السرير لكن بعيون مفتوحه، خائفه، مرتعبه، راغبه، متشككه، سعيده، حزينه، أفكر ما يمكن أن يحدث

دلف للغرفه، صك الباب،إطفاء النور، رقد علي السرير، اولاني ظهره وحاول النوم.

!! ٣!!

لا أعرف ما يعني ذلك، مرتبكه، متوتره، أسأل نفسي، هل علي النوم فعلآ؟

مضجعه علي جنبي، اخاف ان أعدل جسدي فيعنفني او يظن شيء آخر، وانا لا أرغب بأي شيء منه

لماذا يصر علي تعذيبي بتلك الطريقه؟

كان يوجعني ضربه، وتكسرني إهاناته، لكني الأن أعاني اكثر!!

بت أعتقد أنه يبتكر طرق جديده لمعاقبتي، ينجح كل مره في ذلك

لكن هذه المره انا راقده غير قادره علي الحركه سأقضي ليلتي دون نوم !

اسمع انفاثه منتظمه، ينام الرجل علي اي وضع وفي كل حال

فليرحمني الله الذي منحنا القلوب الرقيقه !

ماذا سيحدث يعني؟ بدلت رقدتي، اضجعت علي ظهري، كنت مستعده لأي شيء غير ان انام دون أن احرك جسدي، فليضربني علي الأقل بعدها سأذهب لغرفتي واتمكن من النوم.

لم يتحرك ظلت انفاثه ثابته بلا ادني انفعال، رمقته وهو نائم بسلام تحسبه ملاك، كيف يأتيه قلب ان ينام وهو يعلم انه يعذبني؟

فلتحل عليك اللعنه زوجي العزيز وتلتهمك كوابيس مظلمه تجعلك تصرخ !

قال دون أن يبدل رقدته، لماذا انت مستيقظه؟

قلت لا استطيع النوم بتلك الطريقه!

قال اذهبي لغرفتك إذآ، بالغد ستزورنا والدتي احرصي ان يكون كل شيء تمام؟

تنهدت بعمق، نهضت واستلمت سريري نمت، لا اتخيل ابدا ان انام دون أن اقلب جسمي

فتحت عيني من النجمه، نظفت الشقه حتي لمعت، حضرت الطعام وانتظرت بسعاده ان تطرق حماتي باب شقتنا

قبيل الظهر حضرت حماتي، كانت سعيده جدآ لرؤيتي وكنت انا اكثر سعاده

عاملني بأدب في حضورها، كان يقول زوجتي العزيزه، زوجتي الطيبه، زوجتي الجميله!

احملق به بغضب لماذا لا يكون هكذا طوال الوقت؟ اذا فعل قد اغفر له كل إهاناته!

تناولنا الطعام ، ،تركني مع والدته نحكي ونضحك، عندما اقترب موعد رحيل حماتي شعرت بالحزن، تمنيت أن تظل معنا اكثر لكنها رفضت.

بعد أن رحلت والدته أخبرني انه سيغادر المنزل ولن يعود الا متأخر، سمح لي ذلك الجلوس علي راحتي، بكماء تشاهد التلفاز،وتضحك .

سرعان ما تبدل حالي للتعاسه، افكر في ما يفعله طوال ذلك الوقت

وكيف يجد سعادته في تلك الأشياء المقرفه التي يفعلها

اقول لأصبر نفسي لكنه تغير، طلب مني أن أنام جواره، عاملني بأحترام أمام والدته ولم يعنفني

عندما طرق باب الشقه كنت نائمه لكني فتحت الباب بسرعه، عندما يكون خارج المنزل انام مثل قطه بعين واحده!

دلف للداخل، معه فتاه اخري لم أراها من قبل، شعرت بطعنه في صدري، كل مره يثبت لي انه لعين، احمق لن يتغير

تركته وذهبت لغرفتي مباشرتآ، فليفعل ما يحلو له، لكن لن اتقبل اهانات اخري منه!

أغمضت عيني ،ربما يحدث مثل المره السابقه وترحل الفتاه بسرعه

نمت، لم يوقظني تلك المره ولم افتح عيني الا في الصباح

كانت غرفة النوم مفتوحه غير منظمه كأنها شهدت معركه للتو

زوجي راقد بطمأنينة.

هشمت طبق في المطبخ، افتلعت جلبه لاوقظه، سيغضب الأن، يضربني، يصرخ في وجهي

لكنه وضع الوساده فوق رأسه ولم يفتح فمه

لم اتوقع ذلك، رغم غضبي كنت سعيده بتلك المكاسب الصغيره، انا سيدة المنزل وأحدث ضوضاء،وزوجي لا يفتح فمه

دبت داخلي الثقه، وتعاملت بكل إرتياحيه كأنني سيدة المنزل فعلا

قلت لن احضر طعام الأفطار، عندما يستيقظ لن اركض نحوه

كأني لا أراه!

ثم فكرت ،أليس على أن أبدو مرتبه ومنظمه كي أنال إعجابه؟

جهزت طعام الإفطار، طهوت أصناف عديده ولذيذه، بدلت ملابسي بأخرى أنيقه طالعتها أمام المرآ، وجلست أنتظره

استيقظ قريب الظهر، لم يحييني، دلف للحمام، نظف نفسه، بدل ملابسه، رمق الطعام على الطاوله ومرر نظره على ثم غادر دون كلام

Like an old sofa or chair.

Every day I hated him more, he killed all my attempts before they were even born, at least I kept some pride and didn't ask him to eat his food like I do every time

I put a bite in my mouth to eat it, I found no taste or flavor, I threw all the food in the trash and tried to occupy myself with anything but I did not succeed.

Then I heard knocking on the apartment door, I was happy, my lips smiled, I said he couldn't stand being away from me

I opened the door without looking in the peephole. I was wearing a red nightgown. I bumped into the face of a young man in his thirties, wearing a plumber's uniform and gloves on his hands.

I quickly closed the door in the young man's face while I was panting with fear. The young man said, "I'm sorry, madam. I expected that the building owner had told you that there was a leak in the water pipes and that we had to inspect all the apartments in the building to find the fault and fix it!"

I said no one told me anything, he should have called my husband

The young man said impatiently, "You call me, ma'am. I have other work to finish!"

I said I don't have a phone, ask the owner of the building to call him

Seriously? You don't have a phone?

I didn't answer him, I was standing behind the door terrified, not knowing what to do!

The first thought that came to my mind was to change my clothes.

But the apartment door opened and before I could scream I saw my husband enter, followed by the young man.

I ran to my room and closed the door from the inside. I could hear them talking about a leak that had flooded the apartment on the second floor.

The young man examined our apartment and did not find the fault with us.

I heard the door slam, but I didn't leave my room until he shouted at the top of his lungs for me to come over.

!! 4 !!

I left my room, terrified by that tone that had been absent in the previous days!

He lunged at me, twisting my hair in his fist, What were you doing in your nightgown with the guy?

I was shocked by the indecent word that rushed out of his mouth without feelings. It stopped me as it penetrated me. I did not respond.

Before I could recover, I received the first slap, Speak up!!

A burning pain burned in my face, I said, I was standing behind the door, you saw for yourself!

How can I believe that, mmm, and slap me again, what's your relationship with that guy?

I swore in horror that it was the first time I had seen him in my life!

He clenched his fist but I had it in my stomach, so you're lying?

First you say it's the first time I've seen him?

A moment ago you said you were standing behind the door?

More beating might make you confess to that sinful relationship. He threw me to the ground and sat on top of me, bent my arms and slapped me until my face bled.

I want the truth, woman?

I swear I will kill you

I swore again, I told you exactly what happened.

He muttered, "Ummm," and continued slapping me. "Why did you open the door before you were sure of that person's identity?"

What makes me believe you weren't in his arms?

My resistance collapsed, I started crying loudly, I let him hit me with all his might

I said one word

I can't cheat on my husband, I'm not that girl and I never will be!

The desire to hit him was extinguished, he kicked me with his foot like a doll and left me in pain

I stayed curled up against the wall crying. I could take anything except his doubts about me.

After changing his clothes, he asked where the food was?

Why didn't you prepare the food?

He was getting ready to hit me again, I dodged his blows with my hand, I cried

I said I came back suddenly and did not have time, I apologized and said I am sorry!

Why are you wasting time? Get up and make food. I went into the kitchen, heated the food, and added some new items.

I stood next to the table waiting for his orders. He started to devour the food with gusto. Only someone who has no feelings eats that way.

Seeing your face crushes my appetite, go clean yourself up

I wiped the blood off my face, changed my bloody clothes, made him a cup of tea and went into my room.

I heard him talking happily on the phone, he was telling what happened to one of them, in the middle of the conversation he said, of course not!

She's an ugly, stupid woman, but don't do that. If I had one iota of doubt, I'd kill her.

Yes

Okay

Nyaha, Nyaha

Tonight I will wait for you, I miss you Yara, don't be late

I let go of all the rude words he said, I didn't care about his impending betrayal.

All I could think of and care about was that he had no doubts.

I smiled at that thought, my husband can't doubt me, he trusts my words

Then I said that he was excused, what he did could be done by any man who was jealous of his wife.

She smiled again, muttering that he was jealous of me!

If he is jealous of me, it means that I mean something to him!!

I blamed myself and scolded myself, how did I not notice that? How could I open the door in those clothes, I really am stupid like he said.

I left the room despite my pain, I was ready to do whatever he asked of me.

I sat in the living room watching him change the TV channels. As usual, he didn't look at me. I was used to his indifference towards me, and it no longer made me angry.

I said now he will ask me to prepare food since there is a girl coming to him

But he didn't, he remained silent and his silence killed me

When he was silent for a long time, I said, "Do you want me to prepare some food?"

He looked at me with disgust and said, "No, I don't want anything from you."

Even though the fire was burning in my body, it hurt me more.

If you want to go to my mother's until I finish, I don't mind!

I almost asked him to repeat himself. It had been four months or more since he had seemed this gentle.

Without thinking I said I would go

He took out a wad of money and threw it on the table. He said, "I never thought of buying you something!"

I took the money and went to my room, changed my clothes quickly, put on a black abaya, then went out to the hall, and stood in front of him in a military stance

Have any comments to ask him?

He looked at me completely, smiled, and said no.

The taxi took off, I was looking at the passersby and the road with the admiration of a child going out with his family for the first time.

I didn't miss the taxi driver's looks that were completely raping me.

I turned my face out the window and our eyes did not meet once. My mother-in-law welcomed me in a loving way. She was very happy with my visit and insisted that we eat together.

We took the words, but I felt a pang of tightness in my chest, so I was distracted by what my husband was doing at that moment, and nothing woke me up except my mother-in-law’s question

She puts her hand on my stomach

When will I be able to play with my grandson?

!! 5 !!

Her question took me by surprise, it paralyzed me. I realized that all my excuses would not convince her as long as they did not convince me. I said, “Everything is destiny and fate, and it will happen, God willing.”

Did you go to the doctor?

My head is spinning, what should I say?

I replied, "No, Mahmoud doesn't want that. He says it's still too early to have a child."

Are you taking birth control pills?

I said yes

She said, "You idiot, a man may not want to have a child, but as for a woman, her life is not complete without children."

Listen to me, don't take those pills again, don't be afraid my son, if he opens his mouth I swear I will scold him.

After that throughout that session I remained silent, whenever I imagined my belly swollen with a baby, I smiled, wouldn't that be wonderful?

I said goodbye to my mother-in-law, paid her a visit and headed to our apartment. On the way, I stopped the driver for a minute in front of a fancy storefront, then set off towards our house.

Yara amazes me every time, not because of her extreme elegance, but because of the unexpected movements she comes up with every time!

She always told me that she didn't love me, but that she accepted me as something mysterious and beautiful in her life. Although her skirt, which hugged her slim body, looked tempting, my longing for her, my longing for her left as soon as I hugged her. All desire to stay by her side disappeared.

I slipped away from her, I said that a glass is able to change my mood, I poured a glass for Yara, another one for me, she brought her glass closer to mine, Cheers!

Even that word didn't resonate with me. I put my cup aside and didn't touch hers. It seemed to me a betrayal, a great crime, for her cup to kiss mine.

Yara lay on the couch coquettishly, my head was aching, unable to think of what I wanted

What I sought has gone with my wife, what is the point of sleeping with another woman when she is gone?

Yara approached me, I saw that as very hostile, I was forced to flatter her so that she would not get angry, I said I am very tired Yara!

Her flower hasn't bloomed yet, I don't think I'm worthy of her now, I told her about work, about life, about my fears, Yara got bored and finally left!

I sat in a silent universe, I didn't hear anything except the voice of my dull mind, the TV pictures changing, I felt deadly bored, tired, I stared at the clock every minute

Why are you late?

It's time for her to arrive

Where did that scandalous eagerness come from?

How do you ask someone who can't stand you, who is convinced that you tried to banish him from your life, to leave, not to be late, to stay by your side, and if he is late, you blame him?

A person who has seen nothing but coldness from you will love you despite all your faults

But she was really late, happy to spend her time away from you, you traitor who sleeps with another woman on her bed under her eyes!

Tasneem finally arrived, after I had lost all hope of her presence, after my eagerness and longing to see her had gone. She was laden with bags, hugging a red envelope tied with cloth.

She said, "Hi, your mother insisted I carry all that stuff for you."

I didn't reply, I let her empty the contents of the bags before I called her, asking her why she was late?

She said in a sincere tone, “It's only been two hours, and I was afraid to come back at the wrong time!”

When my face became angry, my wife Tasneem apologized, “Sorry, you didn’t set a time for me to come back?”

I walked closer to her, she looked so beautiful in my eyes, I shouted damn time, you have to be here when I want you to be!

She said, How do I know that?

You are so stupid and disgusting girl!

She started crying and her tears started flowing. I shouted, "Don't cry," and slapped her on the face!

She didn't protect herself from my slap, even when I slapped her again she didn't protect herself, she was hiding something behind her back, the box covered in red cloth,

She continued slapping her, she didn't raise her hand, she was defending that box as if it was her most precious possession.

Anger and hostility consumed me, I punched her in the stomach, kicked her with my foot, she staggered and fell to the ground, silent and not speaking, she balanced her body until she fell on her back, she could not protect herself from the fall with her hand, with all her weight she fell on her back with her hands under her, she screamed in pain and I heard the cracking of her bones.

Her head hit the tiles and she didn't let go of the roll. I couldn't find a justification for her trying to hide the roll behind her back. She continued to sob on the ground.

I sat on the couch and asked her, what's in that roll?

She didn't speak, didn't open her mouth, after two minutes she took out the roll from under her back, threw it in the middle of the hall, the box was broken, she shouted I ruined it, I ruined it.

She got up staggering and walked towards her room, slammed the door on herself and my anger began to fade away

I waited for her to come out like every time, but she didn't. Half an hour passed while I was sitting staring at the box. I lit a cigarette, curiosity eating me up, terrified at the thought of taking that box and opening it. It seemed to me like a landmine that would explode in my face and turn my body into pieces.

My greatest fears are hidden inside that damned box so close to me, I know my heart and conscience will break when I look inside

She took the roll, opened it, and inside was an elegant Swatch watch, completely smashed, tied with a ribbon with a Lonla's rose on it.

All the money I gave my wife Tasneem, she bought a watch with. She didn't save any of it for herself.

I couldn't stand to hear her crying which was terrifying me, so I changed my clothes and left the house

6!!

There is no reality deeper, more mysterious, and darker than my life, which I do not understand how it goes or where it is going. It is stained with defeats, and my long garment is dragged behind me until my shoulders are bent, my back groans with pain. I crawl on two damaged feet, and my legs stagger. I drag a long past full of setbacks and losses on a dark road covered by fog that wanders through the seasons of my life. My soul falls behind me, dry leaves swept away by the wind. My disappointments are a painting that titles a book full of tragedies. I breathe, with a suffocating chest, depression has nested like barking dogs inside it. The road is long, and there is no point of light at its end.

Things are going completely against what I wanted, with this stupidity, kindness, you are rightfully taking your place as a victim, I can't bear it, no, no, I'm not ready for another experience that will kill what's left of my soul, I will fight with all my strength and perseverance to preserve what's left of me, I don't understand why all this insistence on making me bear all this pain?

Don't you realize that I am already in pain? I cannot forgive her for the pain that has come back to fester in my conscience. I have always worked to kill all those virtuous feelings and I will not allow them to return again, even if I have to kill myself.

If it happens again, if I suffer again, I didn't expect it and I'm not ready to recreate the past. If she's the only one who does that, my wife, let her go to hell.

Tasnim

He left? Just like that, without apologizing, without even talking to me. I was satisfied with one word, but even that he was stingy with me. I will never feel pity for him again. I will not try to make excuses. I am to blame. I alone am responsible for what my story has turned out to be. How stupid I was when I thought he had a heart that would appreciate what I do for me.

I was the one who made him so angry. He had decided my place in my life, neglected me, violated me. I accepted that, but my actions exposed me. No one else could bear my fate, live my life and suffer instead of me.

Let him do what he wants, I don't care at all, being friendly with him again is impossible.

But he does what he wants without any compromise, without the slightest consideration for my feelings. I gathered the remains of the watch, my gift, which was the reason for all the slaps I received. I looked at it. It was beautiful, wrapped in a red cloth, but it was broken for no reason, just like me. If that watch had a tongue, wouldn’t it scream at it, “Leave me alone?”

I put it in an old wooden box to keep the remaining memories of my mother.

I sat on the bed, curled up, sad and helpless. I thought it was still early. I asked myself, what if he came back apologizing?

When he knocked on the door, I quickly opened it, avoiding any pretext from him to make up a conversation. I won't make him feel sorry for me. If he's going to do something, it has to come from within, and I won't give him an excuse!

He entered the apartment alone, my heart trembled with joy, at least out of consideration for my feelings he didn't bring any girls with him!

He looked at me intently, he was standing there staring at me, I slammed the innocent door and sat on the couch.

Mahmoud !!

Inside me, there is a pile of words struggling to grow on my lips. I look at Tasneem, who is unusually silent, still and motionless. I wait for her to plant the apartment, to break a cup, to smash a plate, to utter any foolish word that will lift the burden of pride from my shoulders.

I flip the TV channels, I do it on purpose quickly, I know she likes old songs, I annoy her, leave her for a moment then move to another channel, don't upset Tasneem, you idiot give me one reason to kill these feelings that are drifting towards you with the force of a hurricane.

Tasnim

Sit still my pretty bastard, pretending to be lazy, I won't run towards you like a tame dog.

I will serve you, I will bear your insults, but you will not see in my eyes the look of defeat that pleases you.

Why is he staring at me like that? Isn't what he did to me an hour ago enough? What is that villain thinking?

He touched my cheek, his fingers still imprinted on my skin, a feeling of anger surged inside me, I left my place and went into the kitchen

I prepared food for him, arranged it on the table, and then left for my room.

Tasneem called me?

Without replying, I walked towards him. He said, “Would you like to eat with me?”

I wonder what to do?

This is the first time he asked me to eat with him.

Look at his arrogant look

I say no I will not eat

I go back to my room, I listen carefully for him to scream as he hits me loudly, “Eat your food with me?”

He didn't.

After he finished his food and I was cleaning the table, I told him what happened with his mother who was demanding a child from me. I asked him to find a solution.

To find a justification that satisfies him and relieves my burden of responding

He smiled and said, “The birth control pill trick is great. I will repeat that to my mother. It is not the right time to have a child. My mother is kind and will believe me.”

Then he added, you are really a damned sly person.

Is that what you really see me as? That's what I am to you? Hateful, damned?

He is cunning in a way I like.

I said at least there's something you like about me.

He came so close to me that I could feel his breath, he said yes

He was about to open his mouth, I was so close to getting his confession, he turned his face away and spat.

7!!

All the initiatives turned into silence and lost their luster. I no longer wanted to see Tasneem pacing the apartment back and forth, nor even hear the breaking of cups and utensils to create conversation. The desire that had been sweeping me away a moment ago to embrace her, to squeeze her in my arms, to kiss her disappeared. I was overcome by a feeling of aversion and disgust from all those intimate emotions that suddenly arose inside me, those beauties that depart as soon as we take possession of them. I have always been keen throughout my life to enjoy the splendor of beginnings that are killed by a kiss.

At the university where I was studying, we had a colleague I wasn't friends with, his name was Mohamed from Giza. He was white-faced and elegantly dressed, the kind of guy that girls always like. He quickly made friends with girls, some of whom I liked. I always felt disgusted with that scoundrel who had the beauty and boldness that I lacked, but in the following academic year I was soon able to get attached to some girls. I wasn't a lover, of course, but I had enough cunning plans to infiltrate that group. Then I realized that beauty doesn't mean everything, that some girls are attracted to other qualities.

One of the girls told me with pride that more than twenty young men had proposed to her. I almost died from laughing. I was about to say that I had to accompany her for the sake of her friend, but seriously, you cannot tell any girl the truth, whatever your motives, and you cannot kill the dreamy branch in her life. She is the one with the green eyes, and that is more than enough.

Even the most beautiful and arrogant of beauties had the opportunity to get to know me, but I myself, who was very eager, did not run after those relationships. The past was always watching me, and I am very loyal to the past. If someone turned away from me once, intentionally or unintentionally, I would slap him back.

My courage was beginning to take shape, even though I still retained some shyness. I did not have a serious conversation with a girl until years later, and it was over the phone. I was a prisoner of my thoughts, overwhelmed by a feeling of poverty and that I was not a match, imprisoned between my eloquence and those strange ideas that I create. A feeling of failure took hold of me whenever I tried to get out of the cage, from that prison cell, to say to a girl I admire you or I love you. I never dared to do that, and even though I claim among my friends that I have dozens of girlfriends, I say that with all pride without talking about the nature of our relationship, that not one of them sees me as a lover and that our conversations are fluid and meaningless and that if they continue for dozens of years they will not create an emotional state other than the one I imagine. It is as if, with those tricks that opened the way to acquaintance for me, I condemned myself to remain in that position, the journalistic clown who possesses a journalistic card for a yellow newspaper that he knows nothing about. That state that I could not escape from and which agreed with my desire because of my conviction that this is my place and that I If I get out of it, I will suffocate like a fish on dry land, content with those superficial gains that have improved my image in the eyes of my friends and myself as well over time.

The simulation that I created, between a young man and a girl, did not exceed the limits of the moment represented in accepting the other’s speech and enjoying his company. I did not understand the meaning of telling a girl that I like her, nor what follows that word. How do I formulate those expressions that I see on television and hear on the radio? I did not lack words, since high school I have owned a notebook in which I wrote down all the expressions of love, its poems and stories, thousands of words that remained imprisoned despite the passing of the years.

Although I felt those words and was affected and my eyes were about to tear up, the way I expressed them was lacking.

I had the expressions that enabled me to compliment a girl, flirt with her, impress her, but I lacked the courage, and the confidence as well. This is the way I drew my life, and I did not succeed in getting rid of it during university.

He changed his clothes and went out again. I know that on his way back he will bring a new girl. I know that he wants to slap me, to punish me without words. He will bring her and his eyes will say, “You are the reason.” You could have given in like you always do. Then maybe things would have changed. He will kiss her and say, “Look, you idiot, how you missed the opportunity.”

He doesn't realize that I've changed and that I don't consider his waste an opportunity. I only believe in love that recognizes equality, in which the two lovers are equal in feelings and value. Otherwise, it is no longer love. It will be a desire that, once it ends, loses its value.

He can take me by force, but he won't get my heart, but even that he doesn't go after, he works very hard to humiliate me, he does it because he enjoys it but he also enjoys my resistance.

He only stayed outside for half an hour. I was disappointed that time. He came alone, carrying a wrapper and a beautiful bouquet of roses. I could almost smell their scent.

I was sitting on the couch, curiosity and thoughts killing me. He sat on the seat and did not say a word. He was distracted and absent-minded, spinning the scroll in his hands in confusion, glancing at me every moment. I turned my face away from him.

He left the roll next to him, "Why are you sitting so far away?"

I said I'm comfortable!

He said, please come closer, sit next to me!

This change in circumstances did not tempt me. What I had suffered in the past months had killed all goodwill towards him.

I said I'm comfortable here!

He said, "Please?" and waved the box in his hands.

I said if you want me to do anything for you just say it?

He said in an annoyed tone, “I ate my food an hour ago.” Then he gave me a reproachful look and added, “A cup of tea would be more than enough.”

I was running towards the kitchen, not walking, thudding that affectionate tone, that flash of lightning that carried its message.

please?

I remembered the word, tasted it, chewed it, my soul swallowed it

I said more stubbornness girl, determination will change his situation, do not get carried away now by his games, he has given you a lot, he has to learn that you are not easy

If you put up with his beatings, his whims and his betrayals, it is not because you want him, but because you have no other place to go.

I made a cup of tea, and as soon as I came back I noticed that he was holding the bouquet of roses in his hands. I did everything quickly without looking at him, placed the tray on the table and stepped back towards my sofa.

I said you need something else?

He said no

I entered my room, filled with happiness. If I want to pay him back, he must drink from the same cup. Let his roses and all his beautiful things rot.

Now he is thinking, fires are raging in his chest. He never expected that this weak, defeated woman who could only say “Yes,” could resist and persevere.

He will scream now, shout, defend his pride, I will bear all his slaps without a single tear

It took a long time and he didn't call me as usual to scold me. I said I'll see what he does. I went to the bathroom and glanced at him from the corner of my eye.

He was sleeping on the couch, holding the bouquet of roses, the box on his chest and his eyes closed.

I went back to my room again. As soon as I lay down on the bed, I heard the apartment door slam.

8!!

Perhaps we should be aware that life is not fair and that we often feel its cruelty and that we are quick to judge the actions of some people, who fall with us into the same hole stained with tragedies.

The sad bouquet of roses was withering, it needed water, if I didn't give it water it would die, that feeling of watching a murder before my eyes without trying to stop it exhausted me, but I made my decision and I won't back down from it

Some situations are worth sacrificing, and didn't he just shatter that damn wrap hours ago? How can it heal again so quickly?

I left everything as it was, sat until I got bored, I was sure that he would never be the same again and that the right moment for an agreement had gone far away and that I had to expect many days of strict estrangement. He came back at midnight, I had deliberately slept in our room but he slept in the hall, he woke up early, did not wake me up and went to work.

He's punishing me for my attitude yesterday, but I'm not mad at him. My next life will go on at that barren pace.

His mother surprised us with a visit before he came home from work. She knew her son was at work and she meant it. She talked again about her desire for a child. She asked me if I had followed her advice and stopped taking birth control pills.

Before I answered, my husband knocked on our apartment door. I had never been happier with his presence than that time. He had to face his mother's accusations, not mine.

His mother said, "It's good that you came. There is something we need to discuss." My husband defended himself and made up excuses, but my mother-in-law was so adamant that she started crying.

Then he said the word that destroyed everything.

What should I do? My beautiful wife doesn't want a child now. She fears for her body from deformities.

Then I couldn't control myself, I released all the words I was holding back, I started screaming without compromise that I was still a virgin, and that I was her son, he was the reason, he brings a new girl every night and sleeps with her on my bed

Do you expect me to have a baby on my own?

My husband didn't open his mouth. My mother-in-law collapsed in front of those confessions and fainted.

We took her to the hospital, and it was the first time I saw my husband's tears, so I felt sorry for him and blamed myself for showing him in that ugly image.

We didn't speak to each other for three days. We were like strangers. My husband did everything for his mother. He didn't stop crying until my mother-in-law opened her eyes and the doctors reassured him that she was fine.

When he tried to see her, she threw him out of the room. She screamed that he was not her son and that she never wanted to see him again. Just seeing his face was killing her.

My husband passed away and that was the last time I saw him for the next few months. I lived with my mother-in-law, who, despite her anger at her son, soon began to miss him. Even I, despite all his crimes against me, missed him. I remembered everything that had happened between us and I used to joke about the days when we used to fight.

Our apartment was empty, my husband hadn't lived there even once since we were in the hospital. I confirmed that with the building guard. My mother-in-law's health had deteriorated to the point that I thought of going to his workplace to ask him to visit his mother because she missed him.

That idea quickly turned into action. It was a Tuesday when I went to his workplace, I asked about him, I asked one of the workers to tell him that his wife was waiting for him at the rest house.

My husband had lost half his weight, looked thin and exhausted, his face was yellow as if all the blood had left his body.

I begged him to come back for the sake of his mother's deteriorating health. He listened to me silently, then raised his face so our eyes could meet. He then asked me, "Do you want me to come back?"

I said yes for your mother

He said I am asking you, do you want me back?

I said no, I don't care about you coming back, she's your mother and the decision is yours

He said, "Well, it seems things will go as they were meant to go, and I will be freed from my companionship forever."

When he noticed the panic on my face, he said, "Don't worry. I won't throw you out of the apartment. You can live there. I won't come back there again."

I said thank you

But I will live with your mother

He said, now that you realize that you don't have to go back to your father's house as I threatened you more than once, and without pressure, do you want to separate from me?

Should I divorce you?

His words shocked me. I found everything I wanted in front of me, but I didn't feel as happy as I thought.

He was waiting for my response and I had to make the decision I had always dreamed of.

I said if you really mean what you say, and you won't throw me out of the apartment or pressure me to leave then I welcome breaking up with you. I've never had a single happy day with you.

He sighed sadly, then said, "You are divorced."

Then he added, "Every first of every month you will receive an amount of money sufficient for your needs. I will not stop sending it until you decide to marry someone else, then you can support yourself."

I said, and your mother?

He said, "Are you really interested in my mother?"

I said yes, in ways you can't imagine.

He said he would come and visit her, but he didn't specify a day.

I returned to my mother-in-law's apartment with mixed feelings, a mixture of happiness, relief and sorrow. I told her, "Mahmoud will come and visit you as soon as possible."

Her face lit up with joy, and she said, “Perhaps the moment has come when everything will return to normal, you and Mahmoud.”

I said it won't happen, Mahmoud divorced me

!! 9 !!

The things that used to fascinate me no longer hold the same place, to the point that I can hardly believe that I myself was immersed in them, I feel disgusted, many times I hate myself because I do not have a specific goal and I do not plan for tomorrow, perhaps that is the secret of my happiness and my curse, my whims no longer fascinate me, I am not saying that I do not like them, but the desire has diminished, I had to visit my mother after months of absence, my mother who somehow gave up on being my mother

It makes me laugh when I think about it. The family, the father, the mother, can do their part when they want and raise their hands whenever they want, but we have to accept that desire driven by a sense of duty.

When I knocked on the door, Tasneem opened it for me. Even though I divorced her a month ago, she still gives me the same look. I am her biggest enemy, but the look says something else. I still have that place in her life. She hasn't tried to get married, nor has she even tried to look for friendships. She is content with her life as a tame follower. I have always wanted to ask her what difference her divorce has made?

You are still the same, you haven't moved a step. Don't you realize now that you threw your arm away too soon and that you could have tried harder?

My mother didn't bring up the past. She was happy I was back. It was clear from her facial expressions, from her frantic efforts to prepare food and tell silly jokes, to her desperate attempts to hint that I should return to Tasneem. She used to say that a husband should have the courage to admit his mistake and that an apology can solve problems.

I was very much enjoying the way she presented the issue, her attempt to be neutral and not favor her son over his ex-wife. I was asking myself how happy she was in that role, that confidence with which she spoke as if she were the captain of a raging ship, requiring the other sailors to listen to his instructions so that the ship would reach safety.

I was listening to her while looking at Tasneem who was silent like me. Why doesn't she understand that she is not the judge here and that I, the ones with the problem, are the ones who have the right to discuss it?

My mother said it was as if we were in an elementary school class and she was the teacher whom the students respected and revered. What do you think about forgetting the past and turning over a new leaf?

So easily, she asks Tasneem to forget all the stupid things I did to her, and to also forget that this wife does not love me and has no feelings for me.

We were in a play waiting for the director to raise his hand so the clowns could hug each other and the audience could applaud. Well done!

Tasneem said, “I will never return to his care again. He has tortured me so much. He treated me like an animal and did not hesitate to beat and abuse me. For months, I did not hear a kind word from him and he did not even try to apologize. I did everything I could to please him, but now I do not have anything to give him.”

Oh, why don't you tell me the truth? That I tried to be nice but you didn't like the way I did, that I didn't apologize but came up with a lot of things to prove I was sorry?

I was listening to Tasneem. She was careful, afraid that at any moment I might lose my temper. She chose her words carefully so as not to hurt me.

I said okay, everything is clear nothing will change I will leave

Tasneem chewed my words softly, realizing that I hadn't objected to her words by blaming myself, and that the dilemma was that she had refused to return to me before.

She is now thinking of finding a way out, even at her own expense.

She said don't leave, it's your apartment and your home, I'll leave

I said you will not leave, this is your house and your apartment, if anyone has to leave it is me

My mother said no one will leave, not you nor her, you will stay with us in the house until we find a solution

Tasneem said with emotion: I will leave.

I told you you won't leave, do you understand my words or do you want me to repeat them?

Tasneem resigned herself, she was waiting for this inside, for me to show my attachment to her even without saying it publicly

She said, "And you won't leave! It's not fair that you look for housing while you own an apartment and a house, and I mean nothing to you and you are not obligated to accommodate me."

I'll stay in our apartment, is that okay with you?

She said! And if I wanted to go to the apartment? Didn't you give me the right to do so?

If you want to live in the apartment alone, all you have to do is let me know through my mother and then I will leave it to you!

Why don't you stay here with your mother?

Because you're here, and I know you can't stand seeing me, and I won't force you to.

Tasnim

His tone, his words, his actions were different from the man I knew, the arrogant one who brought prostitutes to his wife's apartment.

He is now trying in every way to please me, even though I mean nothing to him.

He did that specifically at that time out of a desire to humiliate me. Ha, I divorced you and you have no rights over me, but I give you my apartment and my house willingly.

The apartment and the house are yours. You mean nothing to me, and I give you the authority to decide where I live!

When I was his wife and under his authority, the decision was his alone, but now everyone has their own life and is desperate to prove to me that I am the master of my own decisions.

He willingly gives me his destiny to decide as I wish.

Look, you have gone out of my control, but by giving you the authority to be the master of your own decisions, you are walking voluntarily towards the fate that I previously determined for you.

Every move might seem foolish, every word might be taken in another direction. I said, "No, you'll stay here with your mother. The house is big."

If it really matters to you that I don't want to see you, that doesn't prevent you from staying here.

When I don't feel comfortable I will go to the apartment

Mahmoud said stubbornly, "I also have the right to go to the apartment as long as you are not there."

I said, "Okay, no problem. The important thing is that you stay with your mother so that I don't feel guilty."

Mahmoud brought his bags. His mother and I had prepared the room next to mine for him. My mother-in-law insisted on it.

10!!

Verdict: "He doesn't love anyone, he just flirts, so he should die."

My soul is suffocating, I feel it atrophied, gloomy, that cocoon that I led myself towards, I hate it!

There is no more hurtful feeling than being stuck between two women you can't talk to comfortably, having every word censored. It's not life, it's prison.

My husband turned the roof of the house into a patio. There he placed a sofa with a distinctive view of the street, a brown beech wood table, a comfortable leather chair, a collection of books arranged on the table, and a device that plays music at night.

He spends all his time on the roof of the house, only coming down to sleep or eat. I still call him my husband even though we are separated, even though I can't stand him and I don't understand the motive that made me go up to the roof to see how he spends his time.

He doesn't notice me, or so it seems, and although I'm sure I'm not dressing up for him, his indifference seems unwelcome to me, and unimportant as well.

But I despise him for expressing those hostile feelings towards me, which he insists on showing despite the lack of motivation. We are no longer a couple, we are just two mature people now, and he should treat me differently.

I usually change my clothes before he goes out and I make sure every time I go out while he is having breakfast. He can't ask me why, even out of curiosity, but on the other hand, he has to. We live in the same house. If he dared to ask me, I would simply tell him that I am looking for a job so I can support myself and look for my own place. I would slap him with that fact that makes it clear to him that I am not happy with his attention and do not welcome it.

But even that pleasure he denied me, to see me as a capable and responsible woman searching for her own life, determined to achieve the self he had killed before with intention and planning.

The feeling that he still sees me as a broken, submissive, humiliated girl, just like in the past when he dragged me from my mother's house to kill me.

I was looking for a job with all seriousness and perseverance, ready to accept any job that would make me feel like I was worthy of it. I would hang around all day in clothing stores, restaurants, and companies, and I wouldn’t return home until he returned before me.

Even if my desires, my ways, the streets I walk on and the people I talk to changed, my goal every time was to return late, very late so that he would feel upset, but he did not care and did not monitor my movements. My desire to take revenge on him became exhausting but necessary.

I succeeded in getting a job in a home sales agency. I worked under the command of a girl who was the same age as me, who was lighthearted and cheerful. She did not skimp on advice, and she taught me the secrets of the business with complete dedication and honesty.

She made me take her to meet clients, how to talk to them and close contracts.

I remember the day I made my first deal and up until that moment I hadn't told my mother-in-law about the nature of my work, but that day I was very happy. I received a very good commission that enabled me to buy gifts for my mother-in-law, clothes, food, and many beautiful and wonderful things.

Mahmoud was present when I returned, he was the same one who came towards me to help me carry the gifts which I proudly unpacked in front of my mother-in-law. Only now I found myself, I had brought a gift for him, and what was strange was that it was the same gift that he had torn up before with such coldness.

He received my gift with great joy and wished me success in my work. I said, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

The tragedy never escaped me, how I fought back and was slapped in the face in a desperate attempt not to damage the box, I was determined to remind him of the stupidity and injustice he had done me.

He opened the box, took out the watch with a smile, put it in his hand, looked at me from the corner of his eye with a look that made me melt with embarrassment, and said, “Thank you.”

That systematic method he always follows is part of his details that I have memorized by heart.

He got up from his seat and even though I knew he could have bought a more expensive watch, he made sure to stand in front of the mirror and smile. He was really grateful, I didn't miss that.

Work took up all my time. I was keen to prove myself, to advance and have my own agency. I was doing that happily and the only thing that bothered me was that I was doing all of that for him, even if it was for revenge.

I made him the focus of my life during my times of success and failure, those damned feelings that used to break me, and I often asked myself what the point of all this was.

Mahmoud sleeps in the room next to mine after he stopped his whims, although I have no idea why!

Even if I denied it, I wished he had done all that for me alone and not for anything else.

A wall separated us, but I felt myself naked in front of him. When I lay in the dark, that wall would disappear and I would see him tossing and turning on his bed like me.

The same side facing me, I even pulled the blanket over my body, I heard his cough, I memorized his movements, now he would sleep, in a few minutes he would feel insomniac, now he was sitting on the edge of his bed smoking a cigarette while staring at my body submerged under the Castilian blanket, that moment made me confused.

Oh, the bastard was killing my thoughts, so much so that sometimes I would try to seduce him while he was smoking, change my bed, move the mattress, so he could see me as a beautiful woman.

My work situation stabilized, but my friendships were non-existent. I only had the company of my friend Laura. I went for walks with her, called her, invited her to dinner, and stayed up late together.

Laura was also lonely like me. She had a failed relationship that ended with her divorcing her husband and giving up all her rights to him. In every failed relationship, all that matters to the man is money, while the woman is ready to give up everything to escape from that harmful relationship.

When I told Laura that my ex-husband had given me the apartment and that I lived with him in the same house and that his mother had given us the same rights, she didn't believe me. Laura said jokingly, How can a vile bastard like him be such a man?

That manliness, I never thought that Mahmoud was a man, or that what he did made him a man in my eyes, but Laura had another opinion.

Scoundrel, vile, but a man, those descriptive complexities that confused me, Laura said after we had become close.

When will I meet that vile, ugly-looking bastard?

Laura had always been convinced that my husband had an ugly appearance. He had a thick mustache, was a bit bald, and if he had hair, he was unkempt, had a belly above his navel, had sunken eyes, and was fat. To her, those were the traits associated with evil people. She attributed her husband's appearance to any vile man, and I never succeeded in dissuading her.

She insisted on that meeting, which I postponed over and over again, despite all the disadvantages that I knew and Laura knew, I was afraid of losing that ally. I did not yet understand why all this eagerness to kill any chance of that meeting, as I no longer wanted it, but even if I denied it, I was not prepared to lose his presence in my life in that neglected image, an elegant chair, a wall painting, unimportant but you cannot give it up.

My arguments and justifications were no longer acceptable to Laura and to myself. Finally, the meeting was scheduled. I told my mother-in-law that I had invited my friend to have dinner with me. I knew that Mahmoud would be there, but I didn't invite him.

My mother-in-law opened her notebook. She was keen to make me look my best in front of my friend. She wrote down the types of foods that Laura and I like. This woman, whom I consider my mother, left me no choice but to love her.

I asked Mahmoud, who had just arrived, to bring a bouquet of flowers. He said yes without asking why.