He entered to find her curled up in her wedding dress, her sobs cutting through his chest like knives. He moved closer, wanting to reach out, to offer her some comfort—but pulled back as he remembered her firm rejection. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly:
You're still crying?
She straightened in her restless sleep, brushing at her eyes with borrowed force before snapping:
Of course I'm crying! You want to marry me against my will, and you know full well I love your friend! You betrayed both of us because you're not a man!
Her words ignited a fierce anger in him, though she didn't realize the mistake she had made. He raised a hand as if to guide her, but stopped, knowing the regret that would follow. Without replying to her insult, he left.
But she didn't calm down or fall silent. She rose, shouting violently after him into the apartment hall:
And you think you can lay a hand on me? Are you out of your mind?! Does it upset you that I'm facing you with the truth? You're really not a man, Akram! Is there any man who would agree to marry a girl against her will, knowing she despises him and loves his friend—and still try to force her?
He turned to face her, gripping her shoulders, his anger fierce. His eyes searched hers—blaming, hurt, heartbroken—a storm of emotions choking his chest. He shook her and shouted:
I'm a man, whether you like it or not! Want to see?
Fear surged in her, but as always, she stood tall, resisting him with fragile defiance.
He spoke again, this time calmer:
Someone like you doesn't know what love is, and someone like me won't waste a minute explaining it. But the manhood you've never known—you'll feel it with me, every moment, every day, Hadeel. Just remember, by then, it'll be too late. Think about my words carefully!
With that, he left gently, and for a few hours, Hadeel was free. She considered calling the man she loved, the one who abandoned her when her father forced this marriage—but the mirror of love is always blind.
Tangled in the ropes of her melted passion, wishing he had been her husband for life, she hesitated before pressing the call button. Then the sound of the apartment door reminded her that her new husband had returned. She didn't dare—she wrapped herself in the coverlet, hoping he'd think she'd been asleep, avoiding both conversation and proximity.
He didn't enter her room. Instead, he collapsed onto the living room sofa, sinking into deep sleep from exhaustion and grief. The next morning, the doorbell jolted him awake. Panicked, he ran to her room to fetch a change of clothes after the wedding night.
She nearly spoke, humiliating him, but he silenced her sharply:
Your parents are at the door. Get dressed, and I'll receive them until you're ready.
Sighing, she rose, a mischievous plan forming in her mind while Akram greeted her parents outside.
Crying, she ran into her mother's arms, hiding the blue tint around her left eye and her lips to make it seem Akram had beaten her. Her parents were shocked, though her father soon realized it was makeup—a trick. Akram stayed silent, letting her act, listening as she shouted with fake sadness:
See what he did to me on our wedding day? Imagine after a year or two, what else he'll do!
Akram folded his hands, his eyes screaming "She's lying," yet he said nothing. Her father sensed the truth, and the man standing calmly beside them appeared innocent, like a wolf before Jacob's son. He gently pulled her from her mother's grip, raised a hand to strike, but Akram intervened, stopping further blows and leading him to another room to calm him.
Uncle, calm down. Hadeel's still young; she doesn't understand that what she's doing is wrong. Please, let me handle her. Everything will be fine—I just need some patience.
Hadeel watched in disbelief. Her heart softened slightly, but her mind rebelled. She locked herself in her room, ignoring Akram's attempts to speak. His patience was vast, but she continued her daily insults and defiance.
Hungry, she left her room in search of food. In the hallway, she spotted him on the phone. Curiosity drew her close; she overheard him telling her father that she was calm, obedient, even bringing joy to their hearts. She waited until he finished, fuming. She was determined to teach him a lesson—she wanted him to reveal the truth to her parents so she could return to her former love.
What do you think you're doing? I'm obedient, and life's rosy between us? You lie, Akram! I hate you with all my heart, I want out!
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm, but she continued, pushing him past control. Anger finally overtook him; he stood, approaching her. Adrenaline surged through her from tension and hunger, and she collapsed.
His heart fell with hers. He shouted her name, holding her tightly, caressing her face, tears streaming as he tried to revive her. Slowly, she opened her eyes, finding herself in his arms, his tears betraying his fear for her.
Hadeel! Are you okay? What happened? Tell me! Do you need water?
Don't worry, Majed… I'm fine.
The slip of calling him by her former love's name struck him:
Majed!
Realization hit her—she had called Akram by her old love's name. Staggering, she weakly cried:
Get away! How can you hold me like this? I want to go to my room!
Akram stepped back, heartbroken. She stumbled again; he rushed to place her on the bed, leaving the apartment in anger.
She fumed:
What? He left me like this? He's not a man!
Less than an hour later, he returned with a bag filled with everything she desired. Knowing he loved her, he brought it all. She blushed, realizing her harsh assumptions were wrong. Yet, stubborn as ever, she turned away, testing his patience.
The power outage struck shortly after, plunging her into darkness. Panic surged, and she cried, fear gripping her. Within minutes, Akram dashed to her side, his phone's flashlight slicing through the dark. He found her in distress, held her close, soothing her with whispered apologies:
I'm sorry… I won't leave you alone again. I was waiting outside the building; I couldn't let you face the night alone. I ran as soon as the power went out.
Hadeel relaxed slightly, feeling safety in his presence. She moved back a few steps, whispering:
I was so scared of the dark… but now I'm not, because…
Because I'm here, right?
She nodded, then slipped into her room, calling Majed to warn him not to come tonight. Before she could hear back, the doorbell rang. She ran, shouting:
Wait, Akram! Don't open it—it's the delivery! I'll get it!
He smiled, walking to the door:
Let me. It's not proper for you to open the door for a stranger, whether I'm here or not.
Her heart pounded as fear gripped her. Then, the unthinkable: standing at the door was the man who had poisoned her past—and now confronted her present.