As Riyad stepped through the wooden door, he recognized the familiarity in the apartment because it remained in the same order he'd last seen it. The living room couch lining the wall to his right stood separated by a low coffee table from the two cushioned seats. They framed the shelf of books carrying the ancient television that hadn't been used in so long, he wondered if it still operated at all. On the opposite side of the left chair, the bedroom door had been left ajar to truly showcase the privacy it offered. Still, within, Riyad caught a glimpse of the neat bed and balcony door on the right side of the space.
On his left, the kitchen entrance stood a few feet from the doorway perpendicular to the bathroom door that had been repainted a deep brown shade. The squared table with only room for two seat placed across one another rested along the wall that connected both. It was only a few days ago he'd entered the space to call Amer down to a meeting with the others.
Now, walking in with the girl he'd just entered a binding marriage with, it felt different. Riyad pushed the door open as she stepped in after him, still in the same clothing she'd been wearing for the past few days. Sitting on the floor of the second tent with their eyes caught on one another's and the Sheikh between them, they had signed the marriage contract and promised one another trust, protection, and respect.
"The bedroom will be yours," he spoke softly, finding that his voice seemed so much louder now in the silent space that surrounded them. She turned to him, holding a black bag of clothes they'd put together for her to use until she could buy others. "I will sleep on the couch for now. The bathroom is that way and the kitchen is next to it."
The girl's eyes slipped away to take in the apartment around her, identifying the locations of all she would find necessary for the comfortably living she'd been promised. With the Sheikh acting as her Wali, any requests she could not convey to Riyad, she would send to him. Farhan was determined to keep the Sheikh's involvement in the matters of their marriage as minimal as they could manage.
When she turned back to Riyad, her eyes were open with a new purpose. She slid her fingers over her stained cheek then motioned over her shoulder to the closed bathroom door.
"You want to shower?" He repeated.
She nodded.
"Of course," Riyad averted his gaze from the girl at the mere thought of it. He'd never been married before, much less lived in the same residence as a person of the opposite gender, so he'd nearly forgotten about such insignificant yet towering daily habits they would have to do in the company of one another. Still, Riyad was determined to give the girl all the comfort she required. "I'll wait in the camp until you're finished. When you're ready for me to come up, turn on the balcony light."
The girl bowed her head once in understanding.
When Riyad rounded the building on his way to the camp, he found the Sheikh still sat patiently on the benches surrounding the unlit fireplace, his fingers working at the sibha naturally held against his palms. He patiently watched the evening wind blow over the greenery of the grapevine fields until his ears caught crunch of sand beneath Riyad's approaching feet. A kind smile illuminated his features when he turned to call him over. "Ah, my boy. Come join me. I was awaiting your return."
"Me?" Riyad rounded the fireplace to sit on the wooden bench.
The elderly man nodded, running his hands through the white beard that nearly reached his chest in length. It brushed against the white thobe that covered his arms and fell just above his ankles, revealing the leather sandals that elevated him an inch or two off the uneven grounding beneath him. "You are our newly married man, are you not?" He asked, his eyes softened in an expression far from threatening. Still, the question pulsed an uneasy tension throughout Riyad's body.
He pulled in a deep breath then responded. "Yes, sheikhy."
Sensing his discomfort, the Sheikh reached across to place a reassuring hand over Riyad's shoulder. "Do not worry, my son. Marriage is a beautiful concept of two strangers embracing one another's strengths and imperfections with love for God's sake and His only," he spoke comfortingly.
But Riyad's restlessness remained. "Sheikhy," he began slowly, unsure whether to face the man who'd sealed their marriage with the truth or keep it hidden. "I... do not love her, though. That is not why I am marrying her."
The Sheikh's small smile didn't flicker as if he'd already been made aware of the situation. Instead, he only nodded. "I know, my son."
"You do?"
"It was evident," he chuckled.
"But... even knowing it, you married us? Is it not improper?"
The man nodded then shook his head in response to both questions following one another. "I know you married the young girl to offer her security in a camp of men, a noble decision. Her eyes trust you, my child, so I allowed the marriage between you two for her benefit. I trust that you will continue acting in the same noble manner... but God's blessings, my boy, reveal themselves in ways that we cannot always understand. When I see the both of you together, my heart rests easily in my chest."
Riyad leaned forward to place his elbows onto his knees, his own worries making it difficult to listen to the last few statements of the man who spoke to him. "Once we find her family and she can return to them, our marriage can be terminated?"
"If that is what you wish." The response was enough to soothe Riyad's anxiety only a small amount, but he still appreciated taste of potential tranquility. "But listen and listen well, my boy. Even if your marriage is only for her convenience, you are not excused from your duties as her husband. Your money is her money and, amongst all these strange men, you are her sole protector and must ensure she is treated with dignity and respect. I am aware that you do not know her any better than your comrades, but you were the one chosen to be her husband. You must do your best to honor your new role in her life."
He nodded. Protecting what belonged to him had never been an issue for Riyad. Now, he only needed to extend such benefits to the girl who'd entered his life—his wife. "I will keep her safe and comfortable, sheikhy. I swear by God."
"I expect nothing less from you. Have you any siblings, my son?"
Riyad hesitated at the suddenness of the question that seemed to blow through his chest like a pointed arrow of sharp wind. His eyes slipped away from the older man's gaze to find sanctuary in the pebbles between his feet. "Yes," he whispered. "May God have mercy on his soul."
The Sheikh bowed his head and repeated the courteous prayer. "Then treat your new wife as you would have treated your brother, with the same tenderness and protection. After all, she may be the daughter and sister of men just like you who await her return."
"Yes, sheikhy."
When he lifted his gaze to follow the rising man, Riyad noticed the illuminated balcony of the third-floor apartment and wondered when they had flickered on. "Take her something to eat when you go up, my boy. By her appearance, we can only imagine the struggles she has gone through that have stolen her voice and mind in such a way."
As the Sheikh had suggested, Riyad made a dinner tray for the girl of falafel sandwiches, wrapped grape leaves, and fruit then took his own sandwich up to eat with her. The living room was empty when he entered into the space, hearing the creaking of her footsteps in the sealed bedroom. He placed the tray on the dinner table. Then the bedroom lock clicked and the doorknob turned just as the lights flickered out within, a faint silhouette of the girl standing in contrast to the darkness. Riyad tried to keep his gaze on the food he had just placed on the table.
Once it felt like enough time had passed to acknowledge her presence without seeming too eager, Riyad lifted his attention to the girl who'd stepped out into the living room to silently watch him. "I brought you something to eat since you haven't...," he began his explanation, but it drifted from his mind when he saw her in front of him.
Now that she'd showered and changed into the gray abaya he'd bought for her, Riyad hardly recognized the person who stood before him. Her pale skin was untouched by flaws and beautified by one mole beneath the left corner of her lips and another above her right eyebrow.
Once the dirt had been washed away from her eyelashes and eyebrows, they carried a darker brown color that pronounced their thickness, drawing his attention involuntarily to the light shades of her eyes. Were it not for her sunken in cheeks, Riyad may have questioned if she'd been replaced by another. She wore the light-colored hijab over her hair and threw both ends over her shoulders.
A dark line of a healed scar drew itself over the bridge of her nose and climbed over her left eye before blending into the darkness of her eyebrows. Another drew a line along the left side of her jaw as if created by a sharp blade.
"Are you hungry?" Riyad remembered his words when he saw her looking at the plates he'd brought up.
She nodded and moved past him to sit on the chair near the bedroom, removing the plates from the tray and placing them evenly across the top of the table. Riyad turned to her as she placed the tray onto the floor then glanced up at him with her large eyes, waiting for him to join her.
Riyad took a seat but only ate his sandwich while he watched her place two wrapped grape leaves in her mouth, too focused on the food to realize he watched her the entire time. Most of his attention caught on the two scars that decorated her otherwise soft features. The Sheikh's words echoed in his mind as Riyad found himself wondering where the girl had really come from to have appeared in such a state—weak, dirty, starved, and unconscious in the middle of the street. But any questions he had would not be answered until she recovered her words or, at least, her memory.
"Can I ask you a question?" He asked.
Taking another bite of her sandwich, the girl lifted her gaze to the man who quietly awaited his moment to speak. When she nodded with a subtle dip of her head, Riyad asked his question. "Your family... you really don't remember anything about them?"
Her expression softened as her eyes dipped to the half-eaten meal laid out before her. A delicate tremble of emotion lifted the thickness of innermost darkness of her eyebrows and, for a fleeting moment, Riyad did not find it hard to read the girl sitting across from him. Honest loss saddened her but a flicker of something tainted her desolation with something darker, something that hardened her features quickly before she shook her head in an almost rushed response.
Riyad chose to move on from the fact. "And your voice? Have you lost it or were you born with your silence?"
She shook her head then, the corners of her lips lifting in a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. When he noticed her take a deep breath, Riyad bit back the other question that blistered with anticipation for a response to watch the girl struggle for words. Her eyes swept quickly over the table as her mind worked to find a way to communicate with the man who sat patiently across from her.
Then she placed both of her hands on her chest to motion securely to herself before lifting one of them to her neck. Each word formed itself on her lips but Riyad's confusion remained while watching her continue in her movements. Her eyes widened with an exaggerated expression as she placed both hands on her mouth then turned them out to the air in front of her, broadcasting a voice she did not have.
"Your voice was loud?" He asked.
Though her mouth parted and her brow lifted to correct him, after a moment, she reconsidered and decided to simply nod. In a broad way, he'd understood her meaning.
Riyad pursed his lips proudly. "I imagine you'd have a soft voice?"
A frown curled onto her lips in disappointment at his presumption. The girl shook her head with a firmer determination and curled her fingers forward, bringing her hands across from one another. Pulling her lips back to expose her front teeth, she adamantly scratched at her fingers to show him.
He lifted an amused eyebrow. "It's scratchy?"
She nodded then turned the outside of her wrist near her mouth, pressing her two middle fingers against the edge of her thumb before letting them snap forward in a gesture that appeared louder than the others.
"Because you shout a lot?"
Then her index finger touched the edge of her nose. Bingo.
"But you seem so peaceful," he chuckled. "Who are you shouting to?"
His question, though spoken into the lighter atmosphere that surrounded them, cut through the cool apartment air like an audacious blade. It sliced sharply enough across their conversation that its ripples seemed to echo visibly around them, every responsive wave pulling the guard she'd begun to lower higher into the sky. Riyad saw the shift in her expression before she quickly redirected her gaze to the food and resumed eating.
As the silence surrounded them, a reflection of the tension that had returned to the girl blew back toward Riyad as if scolding him for his question. The change in her energy told him that he should have known better than to ask such a thing, but Riyad did not know better.
They were married now. If they continued to speak like this and if he continued to not know enough about his wife, Riyad foresaw many similar moments in which he'd continuously cross lines that he remained blind to.
"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "I overstepped."
She'd been chewing another wrapped grape leaf when his apology interrupted the thoughts she'd turned privately back to herself. Her eyelashes fluttered lightly as her gaze slid up to meet his. A moment of hesitation cast over eyes that held so many sentiments that seemed far too deep, far too disheartening for Riyad to understand from her silence. But she shook her head, motioned to him, brought her fingers to her temple, and gently flicked them away to give credit to his own lack of knowledge.
Riyad found himself stifling an amused smile. "Those gestures of yours are rather unusual, you know. Have you practiced them before?"
The softness returned to her expression as she pursed her lips to keep them from growing into a similar grin to the one he forced down. She shook her head, pupils full but her eyes narrow to convey an unintentional sparkle that effortlessly reached down Riyad's throat and deep into his lungs, seizing an unnatural control over him. Her hands motioned between both of their foreheads, drawing a connection between with a teasing flutter to the movement of her hands.
"Shoo hadil harakat?" He asked. What are these gestures?
She shrugged, a defensive pout tugging onto her lower lip in an expression that told him she was only reflecting the same energy she'd been receiving.
He snorted. "Yalla, eat well so you can go sleep. You'll find the bed far more comfortable than the ground of the street," he assured her. The girl narrowed her gaze at him and rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to the remaining few bites.
After they'd eaten and cleaned together, she gestured a respectful goodnight to Riyad before retiring into the bedroom for a sleep he could only imagine she'd been most eager to claim for herself. Riyad took the place he always took on the couch with the book he'd pulled from the shelf just as he often did with Kader. Turning off all the lights of the living room except for the yellow lamp only exaggerated the brightness pouring from beneath the bedroom's door. When her creaking footsteps ceased and it flickered off, Riyad was left to the silence and darkness of the apartment all on his own.
But even as the night went on and exhaustion weighed down the muscles of his body and lids of his eyes, sleep never granted his tiredness the mercy he craved. It came as no surprise to the man. Sleep never touched him in the apartment or camps. It only captured him when his energy drained between the grapevines or within the weathered wooden walls of the small home standing on the other side of the fields.
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Look at me, I updated early this time! I liked this chapter. It was cute, calm, and began building Riyad and this oh-so-strange girl's relationship. What did you guys think of them?
As alwayssssss, much love to you!! 🦋