The peace I felt knowing I’d see my wife soon didn’t last long. Once again, like the roller coaster my life has always been, chaos took over.
The plane hadn’t even landed when Kaled called to tell me I wouldn’t be taken to the palace but to the hospital.
There had been a bomb attack at the gold market.
Jazmina was there.
I’ve always considered myself the master of my world. Arrogant. Incapable of begging anyone for anything. But now, I whisper every prayer I remember as the official government car pulls up in front of the hospital.
Forgetting Kaled’s instructions, I get out without waiting for the bodyguards. All that matters is her. If Jazmina is gone, life loses its meaning. I’ve wandered through shadows since I was a child. I promised myself I’d never become vulnerable to anyone, but love doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t allow protection.
It arrives. It happens. It exists.
My princess is the light I always searched for without knowing it. Even before coming here, I already knew I would face my ghosts so we could live our story fully, but the real possibility of losing her, this time for good, changed the rules of the game.
Kaled was nervous and gave me no details, but if God gives me another chance, I won’t waste it. I’ll give her everything she desires in life, because only now do I understand: her happiness is mine as well.
I reach the reception desk, and the last person I expected to see—someone I only know from photographs—comes toward me.
Djamila. Jazmina’s mother.
“You don’t know me. My name is Djamila Faheem. I am your wife’s mother.”
“I don’t have time for introductions,” I say, not caring if I sound rude. Even though Jazmina never went into detail about what her mother thought of our marriage, her absence at the ceremony said it all. Yes, they may have talked now, but that doesn’t erase the insult.
She steps in front of me, something I wouldn’t have expected from a woman her daughter described as submissive. “You’re right not to like me. And to be honest, I can’t say I like or approve of you either. But I love my daughter.”
“Then we have something in common,” I reply, stepping past her, indifferent to that late display of affection. I don’t care about her upbringing. She tried in every way to curb and suffocate my wife’s spirit. I don’t sympathize with my mother-in-law, and I have no interest in understanding her motives.
“You say you love her, so listen to me: tread carefully when you walk into that room. She’s terrified.”
She finally gets my attention.
“What?”
“It’s not my place to tell you. Couples must solve their problems together.”
I start to protest, but she stops me with a raised hand.
“I don’t know what’s wrong between you, and I don’t want to interfere. But I know my daughter, and I know she’s insecure about the future of your marriage. The doctor said something that frightened her.”
“What do you mean? What did he say? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know what they discussed. Jazmina asked me to leave. As for your second question: physically she’s fine, but I don’t know about her heart. She loves you deeply, and if you can’t offer her the same, set her free so she can find happiness. Jazmina is impetuous, a free spirit—she always has been. She defied our culture and beliefs by marrying a Westerner. That may mean nothing in your world, but some people in mine hated your union.”
“You included?”
“I didn’t approve, but I can’t hate my daughter for her choices.” She looks tired. “What I’m trying to tell you is that this attack was directed at her. And yet, the first thing she did whenshe woke up was call your name. My Jazmina loves you enough to go against our people for you. Take care of that love, or let her be happy with someone else.”
She walks away, and I remain frozen, processing everything.
When I snap out of it, I see Kaled approaching.
Only now do I realize the hospital is empty—only medical staff, bodyguards, and palace police are here, easily identifiable by their uniforms.
We haven’t returned to our old friendship since my marriage to his sister, but when he stops in front of me, he pulls me into a hug.
No words are necessary. We both nearly lost the women we love.