The Easiest Target

Thank You

Athan doesn't suspect anything the next morning.

I give him cooking lessons because all he can make is oatmeal, eggs, and toast.

Apparently he loves Yemeni food but he doesn't know how to make any of it and his mother never makes anything but sandwiches unless it's for the masjid. He gives me kisses to the cheek every time I let my guard down and the more I get, the more I expect and it makes me stupidly light.

Not even two days and I'm going soft for him?

The day after, he knocks on the bathroom door and calls my name so loud I'm startled right out of the tub first thing in the morning. I wipe as much sleep off my face as I can and open the door. He scans me suspiciously and just walks away.

***

He drops down beside me on the couch after breakfast and I pull my knees up and watch him flip through his Netflix profile.

"Can we talk for a minute?" I ask.

"Is it about why you're sleeping in the damn tub? Is that where your parents made you sleep in that shoebox?" he says coldly. I hug my knees, trying not to cry. He's so mean.... "Did I touch you in my sleep or something for you to act like this?"

I gulp hard, rubbing my eyes. "I've never ... slept next to a man before," I croak.

I feel his eyes on me and turn my head the other way.

"I'm your husband, not some random man."

"It's just something ... scary to me." He sighs and calls me a baby that cries about everything. "I don't want a fight. I just want to understand. What ... do you expect of me ...?" I keep my eyes on the TV, too nervous to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want me to do as your wife? Why did you marry me?"

"Because I like you," he says.

I shake my head, looking down at my knees. "You like a lot of girls. Why did you marry me?" I know he's staring at me, trying to pick out the answer he thinks I want to hear. "I want the truth, Athan. Please. You owe me that much."

We're in dead silence for so long I have to look to know he's not asleep. He holds his arm out on the couch. "Give me a hug and I'll tell you."

I clench my jaw and turn towards him reluctantly. He's my husband so it's okay, right? He gently pulls me closer and flops onto his side on the couch. My legs dangle over his hips and my right arm is curled under my weight. He stares into my eyes so warmly I feel my adamancy towards him wavering.

"I went to a random deli to buy some drinks one day in June," he starts slowly. "Your dad used to work there. He was talking to your uncle about how your brother knocked up his girlfriend. Your uncle told your dad to send you to Yemen before you got a boyfriend, too — that your cousin Sumaya told him you were always chasing after a boy named Tokyo."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "That was a long time ago—"

"This was over the summer," Athan interrupts sternly. "They didn't know I was there. They made a call to some relative of yours in Ibb and engaged you to some frikin disabled man twice your age."

My heart wrenches and I try to get up to deny it but holds me tighter as I struggle and begin to panic.

"Forget it."

I take several deep breaths, stuck in his arms, horrified. "You're lying!" I scream. My tears escaping. I hold my arms close to my chest, giving up on trying to push him away. "You're lying ...."