On the other hand, I know that even if my relationship with Rodrick isn’t ideal at the moment, he is who I want to be with. The country where I was born is no longer my home.
I don’t think the wounds my husband carries inside will heal overnight, but I saw it in his eyes: he truly wants me and wants to try to overcome the past. At what pace that process will happen, I have no idea.
I’ve just arrived at my old bedroom in the main palace and see that it’s been redecorated to be a couple’s room, probably a thoughtful touch arranged by Adeela.
Later there will be a dinner in my honor, hosted by our sheikh for the entire family—which is an absurd number of people—and even though I’m not particularly excited, it will be good to see them again.
Someone knocks on the door, and I assume it’s a servant with my luggage, but it’s my mother. She was the only close relative who didn’t come to greet me at the airport.
“Jazmina, it’s good to see you.”
Normally, I would respond politely, because I was never able to be myself around her, always worried about her judgment. But the girl who was afraid to let her true personality surface is gone. I’m no longer an insecure teenager; I’m a married woman.
“Is it really good, or are you saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?”
“May I sit?” she asks formally.
It’s strange that, despite being mother and daughter, we have no intimacy at all.
I gesture to the armchair by the window and sit in the other one.
“Are you happy?”
“Does that matter to you, Mother?”
“I’m not the villain in the story of your life, Jazmina.”
“I didn’t say you were, but you have to admit you’ve never cared about my happiness.”
“What is happiness? I have no idea. I was raised to exist. To fulfill the role expected of me.”
“I know, and if you’re at peace with that, I won’t be the one to judge. But I ask that you don’t do the same to me. Respect my choices.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not disrespect; it’s concern. When you become a mother, you’ll understand that even when children grow up, we never stop worrying.”
“The conflicts aren’t because you care about my happiness, but because you want to shape me to fit a mold you consider perfect. It doesn’t fit me, Mother. It never did. I spill over on all sides. If I tried to fit into it, I’d probably end up missing pieces of myself. I’d never be whole.”
“And with him, do you feel whole?”
“Yes. Completely. Our marriage has problems, and I believe all of them do, but I love him with my heart and soul.”
“I won’t lie and say I understand this love, my daughter, but I won’t torment you into changing your mind. I accept your choice.”
I have the argument on the tip of my tongue that I don’t need anyone’s approval to love my husband and choose to stay by his side, but I don’t want another fight.
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“Not long. I wanted to see you all. Kaled and Adeela told me about the insurgents’ actions, and I was worried.”
“We’re fine. Careful but fine. Your brother is a good sheikh.” She stands. “I hope this conversation is a new beginning for us. I’m not good at making peace, but I’m trying. Did you like the room?”
“Were you the one who had it redecorated?”
She looks awkward. “Yes.”
I decide to do my part to improve our relationship.
I walk over and hug her.