Fickle

Chapter 25

The first time Kulthum truly considered what it would mean to open up to Abdullah again was a quiet evening after the twins were in bed. The house was still, with only the hum of the refrigerator and the distant rustle of wind outside. She sat at the kitchen table, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her coffee cup, lost in thought.

Abdullah had been back in her life for weeks now, and while their interactions had been cordial and sometimes even warm, she couldn’t escape the wariness that lingered in the back of her mind. She saw the effort he was making—how he was trying with the kids, how he had shown up in ways she didn’t expect—but she couldn’t forget the years of hurt, the way he had once turned his back on their family, the lies that had been told. The betrayal still felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.

But as much as she tried to keep him at arm’s length, part of her couldn’t deny that something was shifting between them. She found herself remembering moments from their past—when they had laughed together, when they had shared the kind of quiet understanding that only came from years of being together. She missed that. More than she cared to admit.

And yet, she couldn’t simply turn off the pain. Could she forgive him? Could she allow herself to believe that he had truly changed?

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A few days later, they found themselves in the kitchen again. Kulthum was preparing dinner, chopping vegetables with a methodical precision that had always calmed her when she was anxious. Abdullah was sitting at the island, his gaze fixed on her, watching her movements with an intensity that made her heart skip.

"Are you ever going to let me help?" he asked after a long silence.

Kulthum looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve never been much help in the kitchen," she said, the words coming out lighter than she intended.

Abdullah smiled, though there was a trace of uncertainty in his eyes. "Maybe I’ve been trying to make up for lost time in other ways."

She set the knife down and turned to face him. "You can’t just undo everything with a few good gestures, Abdullah." Her voice was steady, but the words were sharper than she intended. "I’m not sure you even understand the damage that’s been done."

Abdullah’s face fell, but he didn’t back down. "I know. And I don’t expect to be forgiven right away. I just want you to know I’m here—for you, for the kids. I’m not leaving again."

Kulthum felt a pang of something—hope, fear, a strange mix of emotions that left her feeling unsteady. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how badly she had missed hearing him say those words. She crossed her arms, trying to hold onto the wall she had built around herself.

"But why now, Abdullah?" she asked, her voice softer this time, a thread of vulnerability slipping through. "After all these years, why are you suddenly here? What changed?"

Abdullah hesitated, then stood up, walking toward her slowly, as if testing the waters. "What changed? The truth. The truth about the kids. About us. About what happened. I can’t go back and fix what I did, Kulthum, but I can start over. I’m trying." His eyes locked onto hers, earnest and unwavering. "Please, I need you to see that."

Kulthum swallowed, a mix of old pain and something new flickering in her chest. "I’ve spent so long taking care of everything on my own. I don’t know how to let someone in again, even if it’s you." She shook her head, almost as if to herself. "I can’t just forget what happened."

Abdullah took a step closer, his voice low. "I don’t expect you to. But if you’ll let me, I want to be part of your life again. I want to be part of this family."