Coming Home (English Version)

38. Hostility

Layla

I remove one last pin from my head and I'm finally able to take this stupid hat off. It's just the driver, Saeed Hilal and me in the car and I really don't want to start sobbing right now, but the emotion keeps building up and my breathing remains uneven. Ultimately, as I look at the window, the first tears roll down on my cheeks. I try to be as quiet as possible but when Saeed hands me a box of tissues from the front seat, it is obvious that the two men know what's happening. I take the box, unable to thank him, and wipe my face with a tissue.

Why am I so affected by all of this? Is it the pregnancy hormones? There's no point in my life where I would be happy to see Nafisah, but why did I leave? Why do I want to cry like a little girl? Perhaps seeing her with Hamdan was too much, it would have been entirely different if I had happened to spot her in the middle of the crowd. But no, she was talking to my husband, just the two of them. And the way she was looking at him was what bothered me the most. It triggered some sort of primal instinct of which I'm not proud of. What is wrong with me? I'm not the jealous type. Or so I thought.

When we get to the hotel, Saeed walks me through the lobby and into the elevator. He insists on coming all the way with me to the suite just to make sure I make it okay.

"I'm positive the Sheikh will be here soon," he tells me in a comforting tone.

But I hope it takes Hamdan another six hours before he gets here.

"Thank you, Saeed. Please close the door on your way out," I reply without stopping on my way to the bedroom.

I kick my shoes off, drop the hat and my clutch on the floor and lay down on the bed face down to cry onto a pillow. Just when I feel like I'm done crying, it starts all over again. I feel so silly, I feel like she got what she wanted even though I have no idea what that was. I feel that Hamdan will be mad at me and I also feel so inadequate as his wife.

The sound of the door closing wakes me up and I hear Hamdan calling my name. It takes me a while to react and remember everything that happened.

"Layla!" He calls again from a shorter distance.

I begin sitting up. "In here."

"What happened?" He asks, walking into the bedroom without his top hat and morning coat on. "What was that all about?"

"What was what?" I reply, in an attempt to sound cool, calmed and collected.

He scoffs. "Why did you treat her like that and left?"

I stand up and start walking towards the bathroom. "Does it matter? Is she your friend or something?"

"What? You know I don't really have any female friends."

He follows me but I spin around at the bathroom door to stop him. "I need to pee," and close the door on his face.

I know that there are people that don't mind doing this in the presence of their significant others, but we're not at that level yet. At least I don't feel like crying anymore but as I wash my hands, I see my makeup all smudged in the mirror reflection. I wipe it quickly with a tissue and some lotion at hand.

"Why were you crying?" He asks me with both hands on his hips as soon as I open the door again.

"I wasn't crying," I deny, walking past him to go find something more comfortable to wear from the closet. "My makeup got ruined during the nap."

"Why did you leave, then?"

"I left because I wasn't feeling well, you know that," I answer dryly while grabbing a white cotton robe from the hanger. "Help me, please," I request, taking a step back and looking down so he can undo the buttons of my dress.