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“Oh, yes, I’m saying I love you, but don’t mistake me, there are times when I also really, really hate you too.”
Despite everything, I want to smile at that, because it’s such a classic Amy response. Her fire is one of the things that first drew me to her. She has always spoken to me in a way that is unique, and I do love that.
“How did this happen?”
Her laugh is a tight sound that jars my spine. “I don’t know, Zahir. Don’t ask me. I just…fell in love with you.”
“But…how? Why?” It makes no sense.
She turns away from me and I resent it. I don’t want her to hide from me, to hide away from me.
“Amy?” It’s a sharp demand.
She doesn’t turn so I grab her hand, pulling on it, turning her back to face me. “I don’t want to upset you, I just need to understand so we can work through this.”
“Work through this?” She shouts, her voice reverberating off the walls. “My loving you shouldn’t be – my God. I knew it was a long shot but I had no idea it would be such a problem for you.” She glares at me for several seconds then stalks towards the door. “I’m leaving. If you’re looking for a ‘just sex, no strings’ night of pleasure, why don’t you consider reinstituting the harem tradition? I’m sure there are any number of women who’d be happy to give you exactly the kind of relationship you want.”
Her words fall between us like rocks, and then she’s gone. I let her go. I don’t fight her anymore. There’s too much to take on board, too much to comprehend, and I’m completely, utterly blindsided.
Amy
I cry as the car slides through the ancient city, the beautiful lights not holding my attention, nothing sinking in except the awful confrontation with Zahir. Damn it, why did I have to say anything to him?
I didn’t have a choice. Seeing him again, it had all just bubbled over until I was hurling my feelings at his feet and expecting him to what exactly? Return them? I knew he wouldn’t, so was I doing it to push a barb between us, something we’d never be able to recover from? He’s been trying to find a middle ground – leaving me here in peace, to live on my own, only asking for my company when absolutely necessary. I’m the one who’s broken this. I’m the one who’s wanted too much, demanded too much. I’m the one who fell in love. Whatever the terms of our marriage were, I’m the only one who’s scratched at them until they no longer bore shape.
I think of the egg analogy suddenly, and more tears fall.
It was such a beautiful story, a tradition that is humble and true, and I imagine now that if our marriage were an egg, it would be cracked beyond repair. Who knew love could be such a destructive force?
Zahir
“Tell Aliya I’m coming to the apartment,” I advise my valet, staring at the papers on my desk to avoid looking at him. I don’t want to look at anyone.
Three nights ago my wife left the palace and since then I have been incapable of putting her out of my head. Her words have run in circles, and each night I try to make sense of them, and fail. Not only that, she is everywhere. She is in my office, my bedroom, my mind, my soul. I need to get her out so I can continue with my work and my life, I need to rearrange the pieces of this until they make sense again. But I can’t do that alone.
Amy
“I don’t want him to come.” I blurt the words to Aliya and then wince, regretting the indiscretion of that statement. “I mean, I’m not ready,” I cover poorly, indicating the pyjamas I’m still wearing despite the fact it’s noon.
“I know what you meant,” Aliya says gently. “Let me help you get ready.”
Aliya moves towards the enormous wardrobe, pulling out a dress, but I shake my head.
“Just jeans, please.” I need to feel like myself.
Unusually, I think Aliya understands, because she returns with an outfit that is much more ‘me’ than the gowns and dresses I have been costuming myself in while play-acting the part of Zahir’s wife.
I toy with my wedding ring as I shower, then as Aliya does my hair, blowdrying it until it hangs in large waves down my back.
“You know,” she meets my eyes in the mirror as she turns the hairdryer off. “You have been very good for him.”
I smile tightly at her. “I doubt that’s true.”
“You don’t know what he was like before you.”
Despite myself, curiosity barbs in my chest. “No, I don’t.”
“Then let me tell you.”
