Coming Home (English Version)

44. Wild River

Layla

As soon as the door closes, Nafisah clicks her tongue and sweeps me off from head to toe with her big black eyes.

"Looking lovely," she tells me with obvious sarcasm in her voice.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore," I reply. "I don't even care what you might say or think about me."

"Aw, that's too bad because it was really entertaining when you did," she walks past me and lets herself fall down to sit on one of the couches, as if she was in her own home. "What happened to Hamdan? He used to be a lot more fun before you showed up here again."

I turn to the side to see her. "Are you ever going to stop chasing him? He is married, see?" I show her my left hand and point at my ring with my index finger. "And I'm having his baby," my finger moves to point down at my very evident pregnant belly.

She scoffs. "I'm not chasing anybody, I'm here for the hor-"

"Ugh! Shut up, Nafisah!" I cut her off. "Not only are you chasing after a married man, you're also chasing after a man that over the years has shown absolutely no interest in you."

She bites her lower lip and tilts her head to the side. "I beg to differ. Like I said, things were just... different before you came back."

It can't be, that's not true. I try my best to hide the hesitation inside me because, why would I believe her instead of believing him? Besides, would I have the right to be mad about something that happened during a time where I wasn't even talking to him? I hold onto my belly - not sure if it is for protection or courage, perhaps both - and take two steps in her direction.

"Whatever it is that you're trying, stop it, now. You're only wasting your time," I spin around and head towards the door.

"Or what?" She raises her voice slightly. "What will you do about it?"

Her words make me stop and turn around once more. A small smile plays on her lips and the anger makes my pulse go quicker. I have to be smarter than this, smarter than her, no matter how bad I feel like running away. I got even closer to her than before and she doesn't flinch. I hate how she takes over the space, I hate how her fingers touch anything that is Hamdan's.

"You still don't get it, do you?" I wonder with pity in voice. "That was no threat, it was a piece of advice. To answer your question, I will do absolutely nothing because I don't have to. My husband loves me and he adores our little family, we are pretty much head over heels for one another and we trust each other. Me asking you to stop was so you could go back to Saudi Arabia with a little bit of dignity left."

Spinning around, I walk to the door as fast as I can. I don't want her to say anything else to me, nor do I have the energy or the courage to keep this conversation going. When I step outside, I see the men waiting but I don't make any contact with them and simply get into Hamdan's car. My husband and my uncle get the message and quickly get in the car as well.

"Are you okay?" Hamdan asks me when he starts the engine.

I breathe heavily through my nose and can't stop rubbing my bump while inside my head I keep repeating to my son that everything is fine, that we're okay.

"Just take me home," I request.

Not another word is spoken during the drive and I'm the first one to step out of the car and into our home. I don't know if it is emotions or hormones, but I feel all this energy rushing through my body and I hurry up the staircase.

"Layla!" Hamdan calls after closing the door.

I turn around and come down the very few steps I had already taken. "Why would you take me there?"