"I used to write your name everywhere I went; your love was the very soul of my heart. My life in your absence only deepens the wounds within me!"
Hadeel exclaimed in awe:
"What is this? Akram, you're reciting poetry!"
He smiled humbly and murmured with love:
"You taught me everything that expresses love."
"It's beautiful! I adore poetry," she replied. "I'm going to make good use of you in the coming days—you'll have to recite poems to me, or perhaps even write some specifically for me. But Akram, I want the rest of the story!"
He swallowed bitterly, his words tight with resentment as he spoke:
"Majid... he noticed my interest in you. He saw me watching you, noticed how I frequented that specific café just because you were always there with your friends. He used to mock me, saying I'd fallen into the trap of love, 'pity the poor guy'—that kind of talk young men use. I never admitted anything to them; I let him play his part. I have always believed that a man should never let the woman he loves—be she his beloved, his wife, or his fiancée—become a topic of gossip among men, or a mere station of admiration for any passerby to trample upon."
A sharp pang of guilt pierced her heart. She realized how deeply she had misunderstood her noble husband, while contrasting him with the deceptive man she once loved. She said, her voice thick with emotion:
"How stupid I've been. I couldn't see the difference between you and him. I imagined he was the best thing that ever happened to me, that he would cherish me more than himself—just as I loved him more than my own soul!"
Akram did not want to hear those words, even if they were the painful truth. He cried out sorrowfully:
"Deception is the graveyard of love! But I say it is the graveyard of the soul. Deceit is the worst wound a heart can suffer. Anyway, after a while, I discovered that Majid had made a bet with them about you and me—that he could make you fall for him before I even gathered the courage to hint at my feelings. I fought them all when I found out. That fight was the end of everything between us. But I found no way to save you from him except by proposing to you—to make you my wife so I would have the legal and official right to be by your side and protect you."
Her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed for that scoundrel. She sighed deeply and said with a groan:
"I want to go back to the tent to rest for a while, if I may."
He felt the depth of her agony. It is never easy for a lover to be stabbed with a poisoned dagger by the very hand they once reached for in love—a hand that now cruelly uproots their heart.
After the days at the camp ended, Akram returned to his apartment with his wife. They had grown closer, and the ice between them had begun to melt, though their relationship could best be described as a fragile, newfound friendship.
As Akram inserted the key into the lock, his heart hammered with a violent rage. He heard a voice he loathed with every fiber of his being. Hadeel turned, startled and disgusted, to see Majid stepping out of the apartment directly opposite theirs. He spoke with chilling indifference:
"Welcome home, newlyweds! Was your trip pleasant? Oh, how rude of me—I forgot to mention that I'm your new neighbor. We'll be seeing a lot of each other."
Akram's tongue sharpened to deliver a scathing retort, but Hadeel moved first. She turned to Akram with a sudden, coquettish grace, pouting her lips to give him a fiery kiss that made him forget Majid—and the entire world.
"Darling, let's go inside," she said alluringly. "We don't have time to waste on people like this!"
Those words hit Majid like a whip, wounding his pride. The woman who used to melt at his mere glance had just humiliated him. Stunned and speechless, he watched them enter their home, a rage burning within him that could have set the world ablaze.
Akram wasn't a fool; he knew she was merely provoking her ex. But for Hadeel, the truth was different. The moment their lips met, the drums of love began to beat in her heart. The buds of passion began to bloom, reviving her soul from its darkness. Out of shyness, she didn't confess her feelings, offering only a sweet smile before retreating to her room. Akram didn't fully grasp the meaning of that smile, but it danced upon his heart.
Meanwhile, Majid sat on his balcony, which shared a wall with theirs, consumed by malice.
"Could Akram have told her something about me?" he muttered to himself. "Of course he did. He wouldn't miss a chance to turn her against me now that she's officially his."
He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. "Or maybe she actually loves him? He's always been such a sentimental, romantic fool."
He struck the balcony railing with fury, shouting loud enough to be heard:
"I swear, Akram, I'll teach you a lesson. No one takes anything from Majid El-Bahrawi by force. And you, my fair lady... your turn is coming. The reckoning is near!"
Akram knocked on Hadeel's door. She straightened her clothes and hair before letting him in.
"I brought food," he said tenderly. "The kind you like."
"How do you even know what I like?" she asked.
"Don't underestimate my heart; it knows everything about you."
"Akram... I..."
He swallowed hard, waiting for her to finish, hoping for words that would bring his soul back to life. But before she could speak, the doorbell rang insistently.
Akram went to the door and looked through the peephole. A thunderous roar of anger escaped him:
"Majid!"
He threw the door open, intent on teaching him a final lesson. Hadeel rushed behind him, terrified for Akram. But when the door opened, they saw a girl with Majid. She was bronze-skinned, with wide, kohl-rimmed dark eyes and a face as beautiful as a full moon. A surge of jealousy hit Hadeel instantly.
"Who is this, Akram?" Hadeel snapped as she heard Akram utter the girl's name in shock. "What's going on? Who is this 'Hanadi'?"
Majid intervened slyly: "I'll tell you, Dela. Hanadi is..."
Akram interrupted with a heavy, sorrowful voice: "My wife... Hanadi is my wife."
Hadeel's soul shrieked in agony: "My heart is like the fireplace of a decaying old house, shaken by every passing storm."
But this storm was different. Her love for Akram was real, unlike what she had felt for Majid. Love, she realized, was a disease whose only cure was the death of the heart.
Hanadi spoke up with a coarse, vulgar tone:
"Yes, his wife. Just like you. You got a problem with that, sweetie?"
Majid watched with the eyes of a predator, his heart a volcano ready to erupt.
"What's the matter?" Hanadi challenged Hadeel. "Shocked to find out you're the second wife?"
Hadeel's heart shattered. Akram lowered his head, unable to meet her gaze. Hadeel broke the silence with cold determination:
"Divorce me."
Akram looked up, devastated. He tried to explain, but she stopped him firmly.
"I want my divorce papers delivered to my father's house tomorrow."
She walked away with a dignity she struggled to maintain. Majid, seizing the moment, called out:
"See, Dela? In the end, you have no one but me. You'll never trust anyone else, and your heart will never beat for another man!"
Hadeel stopped. Instead of retreating to her room, she turned back to Majid, her voice ringing with newfound strength:
"You are the last person to speak of trust or love! You are a curse upon any heart, Majid. I despise myself every moment for letting someone like you into my life. Akram's name means 'most generous,' and he truly honored me. His reasons for marrying me were noble—they don't even compare to you. He and I shared no promises or prior love, so what is your excuse for what you did to me? Don't answer. I don't want to hear it. Stay away from me, for your own sake. I don't want revenge to take root in my heart, because you will truly suffer if I decide to take what is mine from you!"
Majid was stunned by her transformation. He couldn't understand how she had changed so much.
He left, leaving behind the "evidence" of his scheme: Hanadi. She wandered through the apartment, looking at the furniture with greedy awe. Meanwhile, Hadeel began packing her bags. Akram leaned against the doorframe, helpless.
"At least ask me!" he cried, his voice breaking. "Scream at me! Do something, but don't stay silent like this!"
"There's no need," she replied brokenly. "We were going to get divorced anyway. I haven't loved you since the moment I saw you, and you know that. It doesn't matter why you did it. Just be generous one last time and send me the papers."
Akram felt a blade twist in his heart. He tried to defend himself, but his voice betrayed him. He watched her leave, while Hanadi watched with a gleeful smirk.
As the door closed, Akram felt as if the gates of paradise had shut in his face. He began to smash everything in sight. Hanadi fled to the bedroom in terror.
Descending the stairs, Hadeel wept uncontrollably. She remembered the safety she felt with him, his loving eyes, his constant attempts to make her happy. She realized she was losing the only man who had ever made her heart feel alive.
Inside, Akram had cut his hand on broken glass. Hanadi eventually emerged and cried out in fear:
"Akram! You're bleeding! Let me help you."
He recoiled from her touch, his gaze fixed on nothingness.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I didn't realize you loved her this much. Majid tricked me; he told me this was the only way to be with you."
"When will you leave me alone?" Akram asked with bitter sarcasm. "I've spent a year trying to fix your situation, helping you and your father. Is this my reward? You're not in love, Hanadi. You're obsessed. You're sick!"
"I'm sick with you, Akram!"
"Stop acting! I only protected your reputation because God commanded it. I haven't been able to save you from yourself."
"Don't be so cruel!" she pleaded.
"Fear God and stay away from me," he warned. "I don't want to become a monster just to protect my life from you."
"I won't leave you, even if it kills me!" she screamed. "If I had known about this marriage, I would have stopped it. But better late than never!"
Akram grabbed her arms, his eyes burning with a promise of retribution.
"You are divorced!" he hissed. "Do your worst. But Hadeel is a red line. If you cross it, I will erase you from the face of the earth. I've endured enough for your father's sake, but you are a hell I must escape!"؟