"There," Said the attendant as she handed Leila the mug of coffee she had ordered recently. She accepted it with shaking hands, almost spilling the hot liquid all over her pants. Swearing silently, she mumbled her gratitude and tightened her grasp on the cup, easing the tension that surged through her body. She inhaled the scent of the black coffee, reminding her instantly of her days back home. She used to gulp down one cup daily on her way to school, but as a result of their recent lack of money, she had to break that habit. It was more economic to have a home-made cup than buy one on the road.
Looking up, Leila noticed the attendant was still standing by her chair, a wary look plastered on her face.
"Is there something wrong?" Leila asked, but the woman seemed more interested in the back of Leila's seat than herself. She felt confused, if not slightly embarrassed, so she placed the mug carefully in the cup holder next to her, then shifted in her seat to get a good look at whatever was worth giving her undivided attention to.
"Sir, I'm sorry but you can't cross this line," A female voice announced.
And oh, how she wished she hadn't looked back.
Now that got a good view of the scenery, the voices were starting to become clearer in her head. There, at the far end of the reception, a couple of guards stood with their shoulders pressed together, their strong muscular backs facing her, blocking most of her view. One thing she was sure of, was the unmistakable angry voice she could recognize even from that long distance. And when she moved slightly forward, she was rewarded with a glimpse of messy brown hair, and those blue eyes that used to haunt her dreams.
She felt her breath hitch almost immediately.
He was here. God, he is actually really in here. Why is this happening to me?
Her grip on the arm of the chair tightened, and she struggled to even her breath. Calm down, She said to herself. It's no big deal. Pretend that you have never seen him and all will go fine.
But fate must've been against her today, as somehow, David showed them some identity proof that actually led them to believe he was trust-worthy enough to pass. God save me, this can't be happening. Just in time, she jumped back to her seat, sitting straighter than ever. The less he saw her, the better. He would think she had never got on this flight and he'd just leave her alone. Her heart was thumbing in her chest so loudly that she could hear it pumping boiling blood through her veins. Her fingers started to tip against the plastic of her seat arm. She could feel the sweat forming slowly on the insides of her hands, and a trickle of salty liquid slid down her forehead, tempting her to wipe it away. But she didn't dare move an inch. If she did, she would draw a lot more of unnecessary attention, that she totally didn't need right now.
But that sliding drop is so tempting.
Don't, Leila. Don't you dare do it.
"Sorry, I'm late."
That made her let out a squeak, and she practically jumped eight inches over her seat. Her body was all shaking from the tension. She recited whatever crossed over her mind at the moment from the Qur'an, trying to calm down.
She figured that David was the owner of the voice -who else could it be, huh? -. She tried her best to ignore him, but she couldn't mistake the look of triumph he had on his face when he appeared by her side, as if he had just found the treasure island. He grabbed her handbag from the spare seat and tucked it back at the empty space between the two chairs, then folded his body in the seat next to her without another word.
Deliberately, she focused her eyes on the window by her right, and tried to concentrate on the clusters of clouds that passed them as the plane flew over midnight California. She was sure it would have been magnificent, if only her mind wasn't pre-occupied with complicated thoughts of her future.
Next to her, David cleared his throat. She pretended she hadn't noticed and rested her cheek on her propped arm. She pressed the side of her face against the window and tried to concentrate harder.
"Hey," He called, and this time she couldn't hide from it any further. She knew he was calling for her, and there wasn't any place for her to go hide anyway. He had already caught her. But something in her told her not to look back. It seemed that looking back meant that she would turn her back on all the plans she had made ahead of her, on all the hopes she had of reconciling with her family.
"Leila, hey," He called again. This time, his hand snaked under her chin and pulled her face back to look at him, just like he did earlier today. Only last time didn't end really well.
"I don't want to talk to you," She admitted and brushed his hand away. He let it drop, although she was sure he was capable of keeping holding her. But he didn't nonetheless.
"Just give me a moment to explain," He asked, and even though his voice was determined, she didn't miss the edge of despair in it. It was almost like a plea.
"No," Leila replied harshly, looking back at the window. "I don't want to hear your explanations."
"But -,"
"No!"
He was silent for a moment, as if waiting for her to change her mind. And pity on her, she almost did. Not for his heavy sigh and the shifting in his own seat. "Then I won't force you," He mumbled and looked away from her, examining the room.
"Why?" She couldn't contain herself. She felt like if she hadn't asked him right at that moment, she might have as well exploded. "Why are you here?"
He looked back at her, but she still didn't lock gazes. "Is that a trick question, or are you really that stupid?" He asked in a matter of fact. Leila resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"I'm being completely serious right now; why are you here?"
"I own this airline. I can be here whenever I want to. You of all people should have been aware of that," He replied as harshly. "You probably need to do some background checkup the next time. Just in case. And who says that I may not be going on a business trip? I mean, Egypt, why not?" He pronounced the world with much distaste that she thought she might actually punch him, again. But then she thought of the consequences might be, and she refrained from doing so.
"Oh! Come on," David forced. "Is it really not that obvious? I'm taking you back home."
"Well, that's very sweet of you, David," She said it as dry as she ever had. "You might as well meet my parents. But for the record, they won't like you. Trust me with that one."
"No, wait," David interrupted, almost laughing in the process. "You mistook me at this one. I mean back home, like back home." He gestured with his thumb backwards. "As in California."
She snorted, and for a second he almost frowned. But he quickly recovered. "Why not?"
"Because I'm done with you. I'm done with the house, and I'm done with everything that has to do with this country, or you. Am I clear?"
"No!"
"No, what?"
"No, you're not clear, Leila," David stated. "I don't understand."
"Neither do I," Leila almost screamed in frustration. "I don't understand why on Earth you are here, when you still have you beloved Zoe?"
David groaned as a response, running a hand down his face.
"Yes, David. We are back to this. And we will be back to it until you finally decide to say some sensible explanation. Hell, you were with the girl almost two hours ago. Why are you now after me? Why me, when you have her?"
"And what if I am with her? It's not like this. It's not like we're actually doing anything wrong. You're barely figuring this out. I already told you, Leila. I know my boundaries. You just always love to jump to the wrong conclusions rather than ask me in person."
"Then what it is like, David? Huh?" She asked. "Please, tell me. Because you never actually tell me anything. I've asked you before, a dozen times, but you've never replied. I'm sick of you hiding everything from me."
He paused. She wasn't sure if he was debating what answer to say or that he wasn't going to answer he at all. She stole a quick glance at him from the side of her eye, and he was breathing heavily.
"Can we please stop talking about her for just one second?" He said simply, sitting back in his seat.
"See? That's what I'm talking about?" Leila declared and looked back at the window. Nothing distinguishable was actually visible through the thick glass, but she needed anything to distract her from looking at him.
"You're lying," She muttered unconsciously under her breath, but he actually seemed to hear her.
"Excuse me?" He questioned in accusation as if she had just thrown him a dirty word.
"You're lying," She repeated. "You said you know your boundaries, but you're lying. I know it."
"Leila, if there is one line that I wouldn't let you cross, then it is this one. You've gone too far this time," His spoke with such calmness that terrified her, and his voice had that dangerous edge to it. She probably has actually gone that far.
"Can you then please explain what you were doing just before I decided to leave?" She asked.
"I was working, but you already know that. I told you that the business is so messed up and that I needed a few hours to work today."
"Did you put your phone on silent?"
He shook his head. "Only for certain people. I was supposed to let you and Marissa in through the back entrance, but you never called. I don't even know what the hell got into your mind that made you decide to leave."
"Wait!" Leila held up her hand. "You said that I never called?"
That received another shake of the head.
"But I did call," Leila admitted, her voice a little shocked and over the edge. "Did you even have your phone with you back then, David?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I only left it when I went to take a shower," He replied so slowly as if it was the first time he had noticed it himself. "But that was only for ten minutes, and there were no registered missed calls when I get back. You couldn't have possibly called back then, right?"
She looked up at him just at the same time he turned his head and their gazes locked. The fear in the blue depths of his eyes mirrored the gawking feeling that was growing in her stomach. This can't be right. Maybe he was just lying. A tremor ran down her spine.
"Please tell me you didn't change your mind because of this," He asked hopelessly. Leila shook her head and stared down at her lap. The lump rose in her throat and she felt like vomiting.
"No, it was," She spluttered. "It was something else." Then she looked back up at him. "Wait! Did you have your phone with you that day at the zoo, too?"
It took him a moment to register what she had just said in his mind, then something in his eyes went alive. "No, I was asleep. Why?" And even as he said it, his voice held some roughness to it that only increased the sick feeling in her stomach. She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes stung with unshed tears.
It was wrong. It was all wrong.
"Did you call me back then, too?" David asked, his voice unusually low, but unexpectedly calm.
She only nodded once, stifling a sob.
"And -, and that day back when you were with Zoe at your bedroom. Did you do it willingly?" She managed to ask, the embarrassment of her wrong assumptions and the fear that she might be wrong ate her alive.
"What day?" David suddenly blurted in confusion. "Leila, what the hell are you talking about?"
Her body stiffened. How was she going to explain that to him?
"That day when you two were laughing at me and then you almost hit me. You don't remember?"
A shake of the head was his only response. His eyes were wide by now, staring intently at her expression. She looked away.
"But how? How could you not remember?"
"Leila," David called again, but she didn't reply. She felt his hand move, but instead of holding her chin this time, it went to capture her hand. His fingers entwined hers, and his thumb traced patterns on the back of her hand. "What happened that day?"
"You, you were laughing together at how stupid I was," She hiccupped, but gulped and went on. "And then she joked about being able to make you feel better. At first I thought she was kidding, but then -," She hiccupped again.
David said nothing. He just kept holding her hand in his, drawing meaningless figures with the pad of his thumb.
"Then she started being intimate to you," She paused upon hearing his sharp intake of breath.
His thumb paused. "What did she do?" He pressed on. Leila bit on her lower lip, unable to form coherent words.
"What did she do, Leila?" He asked again.
"She kissed you," She said simply, no longer caring about the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "She kissed you, intimately, and then started to unbutton your shirt, and God knows what else she would've done if I hadn't stopped you."
"I'm sorry," His voice was barely a whisper, his hand locked dead around hers, too tightly that it hurt. She noticed a vein plunging in his neck rapidly, and she feared it might explode.
"Why can't you remember? Were you drunk?" She whispered back, wiping away the tears with the sleeve of her blouse.
"I don't know," Was all that he said. And somehow, she knew he was being honest. But then suddenly his eyes lit up with realization. She started to feel suffocated again. "It's the coffee," He exclaimed so loudly that her ears drummed in response. She barely controlled her fear when she was so over the edge like this.
"What coffee?" Leila asked in confusion.
"The coffee, Leila. Being my assistant, Zoe is obligated to serve me my morning coffee along with the business contracts. She must've dug something in it."
Her eyes ran wild in response. "But why on Earth would she do that?"
As if on cue, David's face fell in the process. "To cause a misunderstanding," He said so calmly as if he had known it all along. "But it's not rational. Zoe wouldn't do that. She couldn't." He paused and dipped a frustrated hand in his hair, messing it up even more.
Leila took in a deep breath. "David, I clearly understand your respect for the girl, and I completely respect that, but we can't really ignore the fact that she actually truly despises me, beyond realism," She tried to explain, but David shook his head disapprovingly.
"No, you don't understand."
"Then make me understand." She clung to his arm, and his eyes immediately darted down to the spot. That was the first time she had physically acknowledged his presence inside that plane, and she kind of regretted doing it.
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. And then in all of a sudden, his shoulders straightened, startling her. He opened his mouth again, but the words that came out were far more different than what she had expected.
"Hold on, you said you were in my room, right?" He asked, and Leila gulped a little too loudly, giving herself away. Partially. She knew where this was going. "And what exactly were you doing in there after all?"
Oh, Lord.
"Investigating, maybe?" He snorted.
She had yet to think of an answer to that.
"I -, err." Damn it, Leila. Why can't you be a little bit creative? "I was exploring the house. I didn't know it was yours back then."
"Please, tell me you didn't take anything with you. Tell me that you weren't looking for something," David said, tightening his grip around her hand like steel. The way he asked her brought more fresh tears to her eyes. She hated lying to him, or hiding anything from him. He would never trust her again.
But what if he didn't have a choice but to hide those things from you, too?
"I didn't."
She wasn't being completely honest with him. She did know that it was hi room. From the way he was looking at her, the unspoken words in her eyes might have possibly given her away. He dropped her hand as if it was some piece of trash and threw her a look of pure disgust.
"David, I'm so sorry. It was all still new to me. I didn't know you very well and -,"
"Just, please, stop!" He demanded roughly and she instantly obliged, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. "I honestly kept trying to convince myself that this was a lie, more than once, that you have never intended to harm me, and that all Zoe's warnings were a waste of time. Believe me, I tried. But everything single thing that happened kept telling me the opposite."
"I'm sorry," She breathed in vain.
"But at the end of the day, I figured that she was actually right." He shook his head in a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. It killed her seeing him like this, and it killed her all the more that she was the reason for it. "And as much as I hate to say this, but you need to go, Leila."
She nodded her head. "You're right," She approved, her voice barely a whisper.
"I hope you would understand that -,"
"No, it's okay!" She interrupted. "I completely understand. There's no need to explain."
David exhaled a little breath of relief. "Good."
A little silence followed, where none of them said anything, but there was nothing left to be said anymore. The tension in those few quiet seconds said it all. It was over now. All of it.
"Now if you excuse me," David mumbled under his breath. He held the arms of his chair as he got up to his feet. Their forearms brushed, sending shivers through her body, but she ignored. David straightened his dress shirt and turned, walking away to take a seat at the far edge of the plane, leaving her alone.
And she couldn't have hated herself more than this.
- -
The flight took approximately eleven hours and forty-five minutes. During that period, Leila visited the bathroom five times -yes, she has been counting -. Three out of five of them were because she felt suffocating, despite the large space in the room. She felt like vomiting more than once, but they were all mostly false alerts. When they began to serve breakfast at about four hours into the trip, which consisted of crepes and peanut butter toasts -, one look at the professionally prepared sandwiches made her stomach twist. She felt sick beyond belief and she couldn't understand why.
Was it because she was sitting less than half a mile away from her husband, yet she felt far away from him? Or that he didn't even seem to acknowledge her during the thirteen times he passed by her aisle to and fro. What was she thinking; deciding to leave him alone? She was definitely out of her mind. She wouldn't have coped without him for even five minutes. The plane hasn't even landed yet and she was already a mess. She was pathetic.
But one thing for sure, this couldn't be fake. Her feelings for him were never untrue. She loved everything about him. She loved his flaws, and those little imperfections she had. She hated the fact that his eyes were naturally narrow, but yet she still loved him for it. She loved how his skin would crinkle whenever he laughed, or how his forehead would crease when he was nervous. She loved his habit of running a hand through his hair while talking, or sometimes rubbing that stubble of brown hair on his chin when he was thinking. She loved his walk, his jokes, his teases, and his gestures -even the smallest ones -. She loved how he held her hand and ran his thumb over the skin of her wrist. She loved everything about him. If she ever had the chance to experience love in the future, it wouldn't be anything compared to this. She didn't know how love was supposed to be like for other people, but for her, this was love. Yes, he was an asshole. He lied to her sometimes, and hid things from her other times, but the fact that he had never cheated on her before -at least not in his right mind -made her feel over the moon. She was fooling herself, pretending that it was only the first time and she was inexperienced, or if it was just a fling that will once be over. Because it wasn't true. She needed him.
But how could she tell him that? She had already lost her trust-worth, and she would never be able to own it back. She must do something.
But what?
Think, Leila. Think.
But despite spending the next four hours brainstorming ideas to tell him in a more indirect way, she miserably failed. She couldn't lie to him, since she was so terrible at lying. She was never that type of creative person anyway. And as Marissa once suggested, seducing was out the window without question. She couldn't even picture herself doing it. The thought in itself made her want to gag.
Then her stomach seemed to take a wrong turning, and swerved. Everything started to spin and her head felt dizzy. The lump in her throat was rising at an extreme speed up her esophagus. Her hand encircled her stomach as her other one covered her mouth. Without a further thought, she got up and dragged herself to the nearest bathroom in a haste motion.
There, she bent over the toilet and let everything out. Panting, she rested her hands on the white ceramic floor as she tried to steady herself. She struggled to catch her breath, making sure that there wasn't anything left of her lump. She freed her stomach out to the last pit of food. God, she couldn't even remember the last time she ate a proper meal. Was it really less than twenty-four hours ago? It felt like ages since she stepped into that plane. And suddenly, she wished she hadn't. If so, none of this mess would have ever happened.
She got up slowly, with the aid of her hands clinging to any surface in sight. She headed for the sink and washed her hands of the grime of the floor that collected on her palms, then she splattered a splash of cold water over her face to get her to wake. Her body stopped trembling and after a minute or two she was able to leave the bathroom on steady feet.
As she closed the door, she heard an exhale of breath just a few inches away. She snapped her head to the source, and there he was. Again.
"Hey," He said awkwardly. "Are you okay?"
Leila nodded. "I'm fine, Alhamdulillah. It's probably just a jet-lag gone wrong. Nothing to worry about." She tried to ease the tension with a smile, but she failed.
"This is the sixth time you've been to the bathroom, Leila. Are you sure you're okay? There's a doctor here on the plane in case you need to take something," David offered, his expression unmistakably concerned.
"I am a doctor, David," Leila stated. "I can take care of myself, but thank you, though. I appreciate your concern." She walked past him and out of the -suddenly very narrow -
corridor, sparing her last chance of reconciling with her husband.
"Come on," David said, fastening his pace to keep up with hers. "I'll take you back to your seat."
"I said I'm fine, David," Leila snapped, drawing some attention to them. The flight attendant gave them a suspicious look. "I can walk myself back perfectly. But just for the record; if this is your way to end things with me once and for, then you've really got to change it."
She walked back to the aisle and walked down to her seat, but when she sat down, he came after her and flopped to his own chair.
"What the hell?" Leila swore, and David blinked, as if shocked to witness her blurting out some bad words. But he composed himself anyway.
"I'm not going to leave you alone in that state," He explained. "I may be an asshole, but I still have manners."
Leila sighed heavily and shifted back in her seat, resting her spinal cord against the headboard. She huffed, but on the inside her stomach was doing somersaults. He was going to stay, at least for a few more minutes.
"A man with manners ought to help his wife with her bags on her first day," She teased in a fake accusing tone.
"Ah, I remember that." David laughed. "The epic first meeting."
That made Leila roll her eyes.
"The first day of my misery," She emphasized using air quotes, and he chuckled again.
"Oh, come on. It's not like you were actually disappointed. It was California, for vanilla's sake. Who would miss that?" He joked, but then cleared his throat all at once."I know! I was a true asshole that day. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I was a bitch, too, sometimes."
"I second that." He raised his hand in the air, but dropped it down once he caught her glare.
"Can I ask you a question?" Leila suddenly brought up.
"Uh -, how about we play a game?" He suggested, using his hand to demonstrate. "For each question you ask, I get to ask you one back."
Leila paused for a second to calculate something in her mind, then she smiled. "Deal, although I can't see how this is going to help with anything in the meantime." She tilted her head to the side in an obvious expression.
"Nah! It's just a way to pass time. That's all. Now, you start," He said, gesturing for her to begin.
"Okay! That coming one is simple," Leila started. "What is your middle name?"
David stifled a laugh. "Seriously?"
She nodded, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"That is like the dumbest question I've ever heard," He teased. "It's Brandon, by the way."
"God! Now I regret asking," Leila poked, wiggling her brows.
"Okay! Okay! My turn," David interrupted, holding up his hands.
"Fine. Go ahead!" Leila encouraged.
"How old are you?"
Leila blinked. "You haven't read the papers, have you?" She asked.
"What papers?" David asked in confusion. He couldn't remember any mention of paper about her, regarding the fact that paper was one of the basic factors of his work-life.
"The ones my family sent you?" She cleared out, noticing the confused expression on his face. "The IDs, David. We were supposed to exchange identity cards before I came over, but I accidentally never got yours. You didn't read it?"
Realization washed across his face and her heart leaped. "You haven't read it," She confirmed, her eyes suddenly finding great interest in the ceiling.
"I remember getting those papers, but I never actually thought I was supposed to read them."
"Seriously?" Leila snapped. "Then why on Earth do you think I have sent them? A pajama party? You were getting married someone you didn't even know?"
"I didn't care, Leila. Back then, it all made no sense to me. I despised the thought as a whole, so why the hell would I read a fucking ID?" He was getting annoyed, she knew it. Whenever he started to swear, she knew that she had pushed his buttons.
"You're wrong," She replied instantly, suddenly feeling confident.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes, you're wrong, David. And you know that. You always do that when you're wrong. You start freaking out like it was the last day on Earth. So when would you just stop and face the facts?"
"Why wouldn't you?" He pressed.
"I'm perfectly content through dealing with my own facts, thank you. I don't need your admirable guidance."
"You think you're doing everything perfectly, huh? That you're an angel walking on this Earth, superior to everyone else, when you are just as flawed as I am, if not even worse." His voice was calm, unlike his normal demeanor. It scared her.
"I believe we are going through a bit of misunderstanding over here, so could you please explain it to me? Where do you think I'm mistaken?"
"See? That in itself is a flaw. You think by following the rules that you are better than everyone else. You are selfish, arrogant and a control freak. You think that everyone should bow to your beck and call just because you have asked for it. You control everything like you own it all, when you're supposed to accept everyone with their flaws. And that stupid reason you are hiding behind as an excuse for you presence here right now. And you actually still think it's convincing."
"I've already told you that before, a million times. I am, was here to support my family.
"Keep telling yourself that," He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But you know it's not the truth."
"It is the truth," She screeched, sick of how many times she had explained that, but he never seemed to believe her.
"No, it's not, Leila. Maybe it was, once, but this reason didn't last. You would've never agreed to leave your hometown just for this reason. There must've been something else, something deeper. Even the most selfless person -which you aren't, by the way -has that weak spot in them. You might have thought; you will finally have the chance to travel, to be free from your cage and the chains of your strict parents. You would finally have a life of your own, in a house of your own, that happened to be a ridiculously large mansion, owned by one of the most famous business icons in the US, who would consequently shower you with gifts and clothes and ornaments, which was probably beyond your wildest imagination, so you thought: why not? At least it would be for free."
"I -," She spluttered, not knowing what to say. This was the first time she had heard the story from his point of view. She never thought of it this way before, but looking back, he was actually right.
Hesitantly, she looked back up. His eyes were glinting in victory. He knew that he had got her. She looked away again, unable to concentrate.
"See? That's why I didn't read your resume. It wouldn't have made a big deal anyway, for I was just a tool for you. You're leaving, and there's no going back on that." He spoke so calmly, as if it mattered not to him. She felt like she had just been electrocuted, unable to move a muscle. Her lower lip was trembling as she stared white-eyed into the space in front of her.
Should she take that chance, and tell him that she loved him, or that too was a lie? Anyway, he wouldn't even believe her, so it wasn't worth any further harassment. She stayed silent, trying to comprehend the latest realization.
"What?" David asked casually. "It's as if you've heard it for the first time. Come on, Leila, don't go all puppy-eyed innocence on me. I'm not an idiot."
"I should go," She announced, getting up. She instantly felt dizzy and had to grab for the backseat in front of her for stability. Once she had regained her composer, she started making her way to the bathroom, pushing down the pile that was beginning to form in her throat one more time.
- -
She stayed longer than usual this time, lying against the cold porcelain floor of the restroom. Her head was pressed against the whole, and her chest accentuated between heavy rising and falling as she breathed. She stared up at the white ceiling, trying to busy herself inspecting the fine details of the decorator.
She really was going home this time. He said it in such finality that sucked the breath out of her lungs. For whatever reason she couldn't completely yet understand, she didn't want to go. She couldn't.
Or maybe she was just being greedy, just like she had been in the beginning.
It had probably been thirty minutes since she had been in there. She knew it was wrong, taking the risk to stay that long at a foreign bathroom all by her all, but at that moment, she couldn't care less. Her rational thoughts seemed clouded by the intensity of the revelation. She couldn't think straight.
I am a bad person.
A knock on the door brought back her attention. Her eyes darted back to the door.
"Miss, are you okay in there? It's been half an hour since you've come in," She could recognize the voice of the same attendant that once handed her the coffee, which was now still lying forgotten at the cup holder between their seats, cold and sour-tasted.
"Does anyone else need the bathroom?" Leila called in a raspy voice.
"No, Miss, not yet. But there may be soon," The woman confirmed.
"Well, until then, just leave me the hell alone," She demanded in a firmer voice, dismissing her. A minute or two later, she heard footsteps darting away from the hall. She inhaled deeply.
And then a key was inserted in the keyhole.
Quicker than she could realize it, the door was unlocked, swung open, and her soon-to-be ex-husband stood before her, leaning against the door-frame.
For a moment, he stood there without a word, and she didn't bother sparing him another glance. He sighed heavily, then stepped in and shut the door. He walked over, swinging his feet over her randomly spread legs to the other side of the room. He shifted and propped himself down next to her, relaxing his own limps, matching her drunken-like state.
"You look like a mess," He commented, clearly attempting to start a conversation. She didn't reply.
He huffed, rubbing the fine hairs on the nape of his neck."Okay! I'm sorry. Maybe I was a little harsh on you."
"A little?" She snorted.
"Fine. Way too harsh on you. Happy, now? And I already said that I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for," She cleared out. "You were right."
"Of course I was right. I am always right."
"Don't make me change my mind."
"Okay!" He shut up. A long, but a not-so-awkward silence thickened the air. The only thing she could hear was the sound of their breathing, and David's way too loud humming.
"Two years ago, a close friend of mine finally admitted that I looked like a guy," She started. If she was going to leave anyway, then at least she needed to tell him the whole story. "I didn't know what to say back to her. I was just too stunned to respond. Saying that I looked like a guy to a girl is like; saying that you look like a gay to a man, or saying that your voice is horrible to a singer. But even then, I knew she was right. I've known it all along, I just didn't want to think about it. I didn't take care of myself like almost every other girl did, and I unfortunately don't have that naturally-appealing look, and had a personality to match. But that was what my parents raised me to do, to focus on my work, on my studies, to not ruin my innocence and wait until the time comes.
"I never told that she said that, because it would hurt them as much as it did me. But they probably knew it anyway, even without her saying it flat in my face. From this time one, I made it my goal to prove that girl wrong. I tried, but I was never able to be like them. And in the end, I was left hopeless, with nothing but my faith.
"And then you jumped in the picture; a wealthy, foreign, sexy -mind you -, young man, who was claiming to be my future husband, and I finally believed that life was smiling at me. I took the chance eagerly, after weighing down the pros and cons, and God guided me to agree. I actually thought that I was being rewarded for being patient and not being like the other girls, but you, my friend, were a plague. But you're right, I thought of the same things you said. Maybe I was doing this for the wrong reason, or by the influence of the wrong motivation, but I was too desperate for the chance to prove myself, that I didn't rationally think of the consequences," She finished with a shudder. "And I freely admit that I'm a bitch."
Again, silence flooded the room. She even suspected that her narrating wad that boring that he fell asleep during the story. She glanced next to her for a millisecond to check on him, and he was still staring at the wall in front of him.
"We should go," Leila announced and got up to her feet, smoothing out her clothes. She walked up to the sink to wash away any traces of tears she might have had on her face. When she was finished drying off she turned back to see David still lying down on the floor.
"Are you coming or what?" She called, folding her arms together.
"Yeah," He said as if he had just noticed her calling, and quickly he balanced himself up and walked to the door, swinging it wide open. "Let's go."
Confused, she followed suit without a question. She didn't understand what was wrong with him. He was acting like she had never just told him her darkest life-story, but she didn't dare ask him. She feared that, during one of those mood swings of his, he would get violent again and strike her in front of everyone. She kept her mouth shut as they walked back to their seats and sat down.
"You think she was right, about me looking like a guy, I mean?" Leila asked, her voice barely a whisper. He didn't reply, and she didn't know of that was either a confirmation or the fact that he just didn't hear her.
"David," She called, grabbing his attention.
"Uh-huh?" He replied.
"Do you really think that I look like a boy?" She repeated.
Please say no. Please say no.
"You're just -, different from any other girl I've seen," He explained.
"Well, that's a yes," She confirmed calmly, sitting back in her seat.
"No, Leila," David interrupted. "I didn't mean that. I -,"
"No, no," She interrupted, holding out her hand. "It's okay, really. I already got over the initial shock once. I understand."
"Leila!"
"Please, just stop," She demanded, careful not to let her voice crack. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't do that in here. She would wait until she got home. Then, everything will be fine.
- -
As she descended down the electronic stairs, Leila inhaled deeply as she prepared herself to leave. She grasped the stroller of her trunk back behind her, as her two bags were swung over David's shoulders at ease.
He decided to take her back home in the end. Always the gentleman.
None of them had said a word to each other since then, and as they went down to the primal floor, Leila could easily recognize the tension that filled the air. She couldn't wait to be back home and relax for a very long while.
But that meant going back on everything she had, and on every routine she was accustomed to back in LA. Her breath came out ragged as she ran past the thought. She still didn't fully digest the fact that she was back home, and that she still had an endless list of duties to do, starting with finding a job that paid a good share of cash to support her family. Only that she was sure that such an opportunity was unrealistic. The farthest she could go with her humble bachelor was to work as a minor janitor in a famous mall. Like that would actually get her any far.
At the closest store-exchange, Leila made a stop to convert her money -the first and only salary she received from working as an actual community doctor -. It didn't make much, only a few hundred dollars that would barely hold them together through the month. What would their faces be like when they know that she could never even live up to their expectations, that she couldn't even work for one monthly-allowance. The only option she had now was to beg David for a loan, promising that she would pay it back to him once she could. Only by this rate, she never would.
Could she even dare ask him at all?
Hold it together, Leila, Her subconscious guided. The day when you would beg someone for money hadn't yet come. Just hold it together and pray to God to pull you through this hard time. Surely, he is the best one to turn to.
For once in her life, she actually thought about it correctly this time.
As they called for a taxi, Leila described the address for the first time in a very long period. It felt foreign now, speaking in her own native language. She almost laughed as she spotted David's reaction to their exchange of words he couldn't put his hands on. She wanted to embark a conversation, to have a chit-chat, or plainly ask him if he had ever been here before, which was obviously a negative response, based on his reaction.
Once the taxi finally stopped outside the familiar apartment block, the driver stepped out to help them unload the store cases. David volunteered to help, looking funny as he stared at how the old man treated him like he was his own son.
"Do you need anything? I can get my brother to take you back to the airport if you couldn't communicate, or -,"
"Thank you, Leila. I'm fine." That was the first thing they had said to each other since that incident in the plane. Leila looked down as she managed to handle his rejection.
"Yeah, sure," She replied. "You have my local phone number, so if you need anything just give me a call, okay?"
He nodded. "I will."
Searching for something else to say, Leila came out empty-handed and started biting on her lower lip. Her eyes lightened for a second.
"Ah! Right," She exclaimed, finally remembering something. She dropped the stroller of her trunk and left it lying on the ground as the taxi took a turning at the end of the road and disappeared into the horizon. She held up her right hand and started slipping out the emerald ring from her left ring finger and onto her palm. She held her hand out for him, offering the jewelry to him.
"Here, you should take it back," She said.
David stared at her spread-out hand in astonishment. He clearly didn't even notice her wearing it before now. That brought a sting to her heart.
David looked up at her. "You can keep it. I don't need it anyway," He suggested, but she firmly shook her head.
"It was never meant for me to wear. It was even a little tight on my finger. There would be no good for me in keeping it after all. It's better off with you, David."
David hesitated at the sound of his name, but he covered her hand with his, sensing the cold metal popping into his skin.
Before there was no further movement, a door was swung open at the distance and a loud squeal erupted.
"Freda, come over here this instance." The voice she heard was easily recognizable, yet it felt so distant. As if it made her dread what was coming next. "They're back."
It was her mother, just at the worst of times.
- -