Coming Home (English Version)

47. Try

Layla

It's a crowded elevator with Reem, Krisha, two security men, a stroller and myself, as we go up floor by floor of the World Trade Center. I didn't expect to become the wife of the Emir this soon into our marriage, but next Hamdan things never seem to move at a slow pace. Over the last three months, our working load has definitely increased, his schedule is packed and mine is almost the same, the only difference is that I make sure I have room left to simply be a mom, to be able to spend some time at home with Saeed, play with him and be able to breastfeed without always having to pump the milk which I hate doing, it's just so much hustle but it's the only option I have left for days like this one.

The elevator dings and the doors open right away, one of the security guys steps outside first while the other holds the door open by pushing down the button so we can step outside. Saeed is still enjoying his mid-morning nap while Krisha pushes the stroller and Reem hands me over the speech I'm supposed to give at the Smart Education Summit. When I quickly lift my gaze to see where we're going, my eye catches a familiar face walking past us.

I come to a halt and turn around. "Shamma!" I call.

Wearing a black abaya, she stops and remains with her back turned to me for a few seconds before also turning around. She says nothing while looking at me and I'm now wondering why I called her name. It was like a reflex and I honestly do not know what else to say to her. Looking around, I see more people passing by the hallway staring at me and waving. I wave back searching for some privacy.

"Ma'am?" Security asks me.

"I need to talk to her," I tell him and immediately turn to Shamma. "Can we talk?"

She only raises her eyebrows as a reply.

Okay, she probably still hates me.

"In here, ma'am," security holds the door open to an empty office space and we both step inside.

"What do you want?" She asks me as soon as the door is closed.

"Nothing, I— I don't know. I hadn't seen you after everything that happened and I feel like I owe you an apology," I explain.

She scoffs. "Do you know how humiliating that was?"

"I'm sorry, Shamma, I—"

"I was engaged to him for eight years! I waited and waited and then you came back, he called off the engagement, married you within a few months and then you had his baby!" Her voice increases with every word. "You stole my life!"

I frown. "I thought you were happy that you were finally free to marry someone you loved and loved you back! That's what Maryam said!"

"Oh, please!" She rolls her eyes. "I had to leave the country after your wedding was announced because I couldn't handle the gossip and people talking behind my back!"

I let my shoulders hang and sigh. "Again, Shamma, I'm sorry."

"No, you are not!" She contradicts me. "I bet you were giving him the only thing that I couldn't; were you or weren't you sleeping with him while he was still engaged to me?"

It's as if a bucket filled with iced water is dropped over my head. How I wish I could say that isn't true but I simply can't. I know that it wasn't just sleeping, we were in love but that doesn't make it okay.

She decides to not give me another second of her time and walks past me, brushing her arm into mine.

"You whore," are the last words I hear before she closes the door slam shut.

Auch.

Fine, I guess I won't try to apologize to her ever again. So, I put on a brave smiling face and step outside.