Fickle

Chapter 43

As days passed, the days felt longer, and Kulthum’s mind was often consumed by a mixture of hope and caution. She spent more time reflecting on the life she had built since Abdullah’s departure—her work, her children, and the independence she had forged. The strength she had found in herself was something she hadn’t expected to discover, but it had become a core part of her identity. Yet, she couldn’t deny the weight of Abdullah’s absence.

She couldn’t ignore the fact that, even after everything, the children’s father would soon return. There was a part of her that worried. What would it mean for her independence, for her relationship with the twins, and, most importantly, for her relationship with Abdullah? Was this going to be the beginning of a new chapter, or a repeat of the mistakes from the past?

Each day, as Kulthum navigated the small routine of motherhood, surgery, and self-reflection, she kept one eye on the door—waiting for the knock of change. The twins noticed it too. The atmosphere had shifted subtly. Jenna was eager, though perhaps unaware of the emotional tension her mother carried with her. Hudayfah, on the other hand, seemed to have grown even more distant, retreating further into his books and his thoughts.

The quiet of the house felt different now that Abdullah’s return was imminent. Though Kulthum did her best to keep things normal, Hudayfah’s withdrawal had only deepened. He was struggling with so many emotions that he couldn’t even begin to understand or articulate them. The image of Abdullah he had carried for so many years—his father who had seemingly abandoned him—was hard to reconcile with the man he was now learning about.

Hudayfah’s feelings towards his father were complicated. On the one hand, he wanted to embrace Abdullah for what he could offer. But on the other hand, he feared that opening himself up to his father again would only bring more hurt.

One night, after Kulthum had tucked him into bed, he lingered for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling.

“Mom,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes, “do you think... he’s really going to stay this time?”

Kulthum paused before sitting down beside him, her heart heavy with understanding. She took his hand, gently squeezing it.

“I don’t know, Hudayfah. I can’t promise you that. But I can promise that no matter what happens, we will be okay. We’ve been okay this far, and we’ll make it through whatever comes.”

Hudayfah’s silence spoke volumes, but Kulthum knew that her words would have to suffice for now. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the truth.

In contrast to Hudayfah, Jenna was full of excitement at the idea of her father coming back. She couldn’t quite grasp the complexity of the situation, but she knew that she had missed him. She clung to the idea that everything would be right again, that the pieces of their family would fall back into place.

Every evening, after her homework was done, she would find ways to occupy herself with projects, creating pictures for Abdullah, or stories about what she wanted to show him when he came home. It was her way of processing the whirlwind of emotions that surrounded her. While her mother worked on a new patient file or prepared dinner, Jenna would share her dreams with her.

“I’m going to show Daddy the new painting I did in class! I think he’ll be really impressed with it,” she said one evening, showing her mother a brightly colored abstract piece she had created.

Kulthum smiled, though her heart ached for the gap that had grown between them. She hoped that, one day, Jenna’s belief in Abdullah could be the thing that would heal the rift between father and son.

One night, as Kulthum sat alone in the quiet of her office, staring out the window at the city lights of Minnesota, her thoughts were consumed by Abdullah. It was in these moments of solitude that she allowed herself to feel the weight of the past.