From the moment I entered his car, my heart began pounding heavily. Anxiety paid me an unwelcome visit, because I myself knew the harm it could cause me. I hurriedly pressed my palm to my forehead and exclaimed, “Wash!” as a sharp, cruel pain struck the middle of my head.
“Subhanallah! What happened?” MD asked with concern, the worry he couldn’t hide clearly written on his face. He then continued, “Stop putting yourself under stress that causes you these headaches. Your health is very important to me…”
The end of his statement hit my heart hard. Instinctively, I quickly lifted my gaze to his face.
“Yes, your condition is serious enough for us to be deeply concerned in our organization,” he added.
I released a heavy sigh. The fear choking my throat threatened to cut off my breathing. He went on, saying, “That is why we are saddened by this new illness that has affected you, as it is trying to slow down the progress we’ve been achieving through your dedication. Please endure and take your medications as the doctor prescribed. Also, take three days’ relief before returning to work. May God grant you good health.”
“Amin,” I replied hoarsely, because the pounding pain in the middle of my head had not stopped. It was the result of the sudden shock I experienced while working in my office.
He dropped me off right at the gate of my house without worrying about the trouble it might cause for both of us. I stepped out of the car weak and drained, trying to thank him, when he handed me the bag of medications he had taken out from his pocket. As I reached out to collect it, we both suddenly jumped in shock at the loud bang on the front windshield of his car. In an instant, the glass shattered, almost striking our faces.
I quickly stepped back, struggling to pull away from the car. MD also got out immediately, visibly furious. My heart began racing when I locked eyes with Mukhtar’s hardened face. He stood there gripping an ice club, breathing heavily, throwing me a vicious look that nearly made me lose control of myself. Before I could make any move, he raised the ice club and continued smashing MD’s car windows relentlessly. He kept lifting and slamming it down with all his strength, completely disfiguring the car.
In panic, I turned to MD, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, staring at Mukhtar with a look whose meaning I couldn’t decipher. Determined, I rushed toward Mukhtar, intending to stop him, but before I reached him, I quickly bent down after spotting the club swinging wildly above me, about to come crashing down on my head. The sudden silence made me lift my head, wondering if my eyes had deceived me.
In shock, I stood up, my body trembling, as I saw Mukhtar thrown a short distance away, while the club was now in MD’s hand. MD was breathing hard, intense anger clearly etched on his face. Pointing at Mukhtar with a stern voice, he said,
“I can tolerate losing everything except Zaituna. Do whatever you want—I will remove you—but never dare to touch her dignity or her health. Only a fool disrespects the value of marriage.”
Betrayal, Violence, and a Locked Door
Before I could fully process what my mind was trying to tell me, Mukhtar’s palm landed hard against my ear, nearly knocking me senseless. The blow scattered my thoughts, draining my strength and fragmenting what little clarity I had left. Even worse were the words he began to speak, which felt like icy drops poured over my body.
“The sun never lies; it is only the mother of the house who feels ashamed. So it is—after a thousand days, the thief is caught once. She belongs to her rightful owner. Today, you broke the rotten egg you have both been hiding between you. With your own hands, you tore the veil of your secrets and exposed everything, all in the name of the sanctity of marriage that follows your lives. Know this: you have made a grave mistake and trespassed into land that does not belong to you. Even if you die over her, by Allah, I will never divorce her, let alone allow you to marry her. And you— I will show you that betraying someone like me does not end peacefully…”
No sooner had he finished speaking than he violently yanked my arm, as if trying to tear it from my body. I resisted, striking his hand with what little strength I had left, but that didn’t stop him from dragging me into the house and throwing me into the middle of my room. I watched helplessly as he locked me inside and shut the door firmly without waiting to hear a single word from me.
I began pounding on the door, crying in my broken voice, shouting his name, begging him to stop and understand the truth—that things were not as he imagined between MD and me. But he did not open the door, nor did he give me a chance to hear my side, just as he had always refused to do.
Description
A Ride Filled with Fear and Hidden Meaning
From the moment I entered his car, my heart began pounding heavily. Anxiety paid me an unwelcome visit, because I myself knew the harm it could cause me. I hurriedly pressed my palm to my forehead and exclaimed, “Wash!” as a sharp, cruel pain struck the middle of my head.
“Subhanallah! What happened?” MD asked with concern, the worry he couldn’t hide clearly written on his face. He then continued, “Stop putting yourself under stress that causes you these headaches. Your health is very important to me…”
The end of his statement hit my heart hard. Instinctively, I quickly lifted my gaze to his face.
“Yes, your condition is serious enough for us to be deeply concerned in our organization,” he added.
I released a heavy sigh. The fear choking my throat threatened to cut off my breathing. He went on, saying, “That is why we are saddened by this new illness that has affected you, as it is trying to slow down the progress we’ve been achieving through your dedication. Please endure and take your medications as the doctor prescribed. Also, take three days’ relief before returning to work. May God grant you good health.”
“Amin,” I replied hoarsely, because the pounding pain in the middle of my head had not stopped. It was the result of the sudden shock I experienced while working in my office.
He dropped me off right at the gate of my house without worrying about the trouble it might cause for both of us. I stepped out of the car weak and drained, trying to thank him, when he handed me the bag of medications he had taken out from his pocket. As I reached out to collect it, we both suddenly jumped in shock at the loud bang on the front windshield of his car. In an instant, the glass shattered, almost striking our faces.
I quickly stepped back, struggling to pull away from the car. MD also got out immediately, visibly furious. My heart began racing when I locked eyes with Mukhtar’s hardened face. He stood there gripping an ice club, breathing heavily, throwing me a vicious look that nearly made me lose control of myself. Before I could make any move, he raised the ice club and continued smashing MD’s car windows relentlessly. He kept lifting and slamming it down with all his strength, completely disfiguring the car.
In panic, I turned to MD, who stood with his arms folded across his chest, staring at Mukhtar with a look whose meaning I couldn’t decipher. Determined, I rushed toward Mukhtar, intending to stop him, but before I reached him, I quickly bent down after spotting the club swinging wildly above me, about to come crashing down on my head. The sudden silence made me lift my head, wondering if my eyes had deceived me.
In shock, I stood up, my body trembling, as I saw Mukhtar thrown a short distance away, while the club was now in MD’s hand. MD was breathing hard, intense anger clearly etched on his face. Pointing at Mukhtar with a stern voice, he said,
“I can tolerate losing everything except Zaituna. Do whatever you want—I will remove you—but never dare to touch her dignity or her health. Only a fool disrespects the value of marriage.”
Betrayal, Violence, and a Locked Door
Before I could fully process what my mind was trying to tell me, Mukhtar’s palm landed hard against my ear, nearly knocking me senseless. The blow scattered my thoughts, draining my strength and fragmenting what little clarity I had left. Even worse were the words he began to speak, which felt like icy drops poured over my body.
“The sun never lies; it is only the mother of the house who feels ashamed. So it is—after a thousand days, the thief is caught once. She belongs to her rightful owner. Today, you broke the rotten egg you have both been hiding between you. With your own hands, you tore the veil of your secrets and exposed everything, all in the name of the sanctity of marriage that follows your lives. Know this: you have made a grave mistake and trespassed into land that does not belong to you. Even if you die over her, by Allah, I will never divorce her, let alone allow you to marry her. And you— I will show you that betraying someone like me does not end peacefully…”
No sooner had he finished speaking than he violently yanked my arm, as if trying to tear it from my body. I resisted, striking his hand with what little strength I had left, but that didn’t stop him from dragging me into the house and throwing me into the middle of my room. I watched helplessly as he locked me inside and shut the door firmly without waiting to hear a single word from me.
I began pounding on the door, crying in my broken voice, shouting his name, begging him to stop and understand the truth—that things were not as he imagined between MD and me. But he did not open the door, nor did he give me a chance to hear my side, just as he had always refused to do.