Coming Home (English Version)

53. Heart

Hamdan

"You're still not talking to me?" I ask Maryam.

She gives me a condescending stare accompanied by pursed lips while she holds the door to her room half open.

I exhale and look both ways, standing in the hallway. "Come on," I plead to her. "I just want to know what she's thinking."

"Ask her," my sister dryly replies.

"She's not talking to me either! The only thing I've been getting from her are pictures of Saeed every time I ask about him."

Maryam shrugs and my frustration goes up a notch. I have gone from being the hero to the villain of the family. My sisters are giving me the same treatment I've been getting from Layla, especially Maryam since she had organized a party for Layla's birthday that got ruined, obviously. Mama thinks I messed up and my brothers are the only ones actually talking to me, even though they also think everything is my fault. And I'm not saying that it isn't but it's enough that my wife is not talking to me.

"You want a piece of advice?" Maryam offers. "Go home."

"I am! I'm leaving in a couple of hours! I simply wanted to figure out where I'm standing before getting there."

My little sister crosses her arms and her hip is what's keeping the door open now. "I'm no expert in marriage, you know? But I think that if your spouse leaves the country you both are at the moment, after a huge fight because you ruined their birthday, then perhaps, perhaps! You should go after them right away and not wait two weeks!"

"I had a couple things I couldn't postpone or cancel! But I'm going now!" I defend myself. "Besides, you should've seen the look on her face when she kicked me out of our suite, she didn't want me anywhere near her, I figured she might need some space."

"You have no idea, do you?" She enquiries.

"How could I? Nobody is saying anything to me!"

"Go. Home," she repeats and shuts the door on my face.

It's unbelievable how scared I am of seeing her again, especially after she was my safe place. I have been trying to prepare myself for this but no one is offering any assistance to me. Maybe it is the fear of losing her, I mean, I think we will be able to overcome this and that everything is going to be fine again but she would have to feel the same way.

The flight to Dubai goes by surprisingly fast and my heart pounds on my chest during the drive from the airport. It's just me and the driver and the night has fallen over my city. I try to play all the different scenarios in my head but I have absolutely no idea of what to expect. I just want to hug my son and never let go.

The car stops on the driveway and I get out to greet Mohammed, who's standing by the main door waiting for me.

"Welcome back, your highness," he says with a bow of his head.

I shake his hand and pat him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Mohammed," I step inside our quiet home and inhale deeply while Mohammed closes the door behind us. "Where's Layla?"

"Uh... I— I don't know, sir."

I spin around. "Did she go out or something?"

"No, sir," he frowns and shakes his head. "I haven't seen her since you left together for the UK."

"What?" I scoff, thinking this must be some absurd misunderstanding. "She hasn't been staying here with Saeed for the past two weeks?"

"No."