A few minutes after breakfast, Imad wanted to go for swimming in the pool. Ahmed stayed back at the villa, he said he had some work to do.

I laid on the sun bed, soaking up the sun. I stared at the cloudless blue sky, and at the corner of my eye palm leaves mute in the summer air. "Layla look at me!" Imad yelled. I watched him jump in the pool and swim a freestyle stroke.

"That's amazing," I yelled back. Everything was peaceful and quiet, they weren't many people around. As hard as I tried to not worry, my efforts failed just when I started to think about Adil or the actuality of my life. That I am married to Ahmed and we are in Dubai, to have a wedding. The thing is, no matter how many times I repeat the scenario in my head — me walking down an aisle, in a beautiful most probably a puffy ball gown holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. In front of all Ahmed's family. I just can't believe in it, three months ago if anyone had told me I was going to get marry Ahmed. I would have laughed in their faces and give them a thousands reasons why it would never happen and why I would never agree.

Yet here we are, in Dubai, with my ex-boss who is now my husband. I can't tell whether this is going to be a lesson or it's simply a blessing... or could it be both?

After Imad got tired of swimming, which was after thirty minutes. We went back to the villa. Imad went straight to the bathroom in his room, to have a shower. As for me I decided to rest in the living room. I decided to text Hudaa.

Me: Hey

I held my phone, looking at the screen. Hoping that she replies, even though there's a time difference now.

Hudaa: Hi Layla.

How are you?

Loved the pictures you sent me of the hotel.

Me: I am okay, just freaking out.

Hudaa: Well it's normal for the bride to be anxious. In any other case, you would have someone there to keep you on track and calm you when you are feeling overwhelmed or overthinking.

Since I am not there. I can text Ahmed, and he can do that on behalf of your best friend. I am sure he knows his wife more than anyone. 😏

Me: Don't you dare Hudaa.

Honestly I just wish you were here.

Hudaa: I wish I was there too. Is talking to your husband that bad?

Me: He's not actually my husband, just a man I am legally married too.

Hudaa: That makes him your what? Your brother? 😒

He's your husband, whether you like it or not and your his wife. Now act like it.

Me: Well my 'husband' is being distant today, and I feel kind of alone here. It feels like the only person I can talk to is Imad, he's just six years old.

Hudaa: Well you could always flatter him into speaking to you.

Me: You want me to flirt with him?

You aren't very good at giving advice.

Hudaa: Flatter not flirt. They are somehow alike, either one could work. Just approach him in a fun, loving manner and not in an overly concerned motherly way.

Me: Loving? 🙂

Hudaa: You know what I mean.

Me: This isn't one of those conventional marriages.

Hudaa: You did agree to marry him. After all, soulmates always end up together.

Me: ...

Hudaa: Simply stating a fact.

Anyway I have to go shop for groceries.

Love you always, and take care.

Me: Love you too.

Thank you for being there for me.

Hudaa: Anytime ❤️

I went upstairs, to check on Imad. Who was fast asleep on his bed. I then went to my room and took out my charger from my handbag. My phone was at 20%. I plugged it in, and connected my phone to the charger. "Layla!" I heard a distant yell, Ahmed was calling me. "Layla!" I hastily went down the stairs.

"Na'am [yes]," I said. I reached downstairs, and see Ahmed standing next to a tall, fair and slender woman. A wide smile plastered on her face, that arrayed her shiny-white teeth. Her chestnut-gold hair tumbled over her shoulders. She wore voguish clothes, that made her look grandiose. I was stunned, mostly curious to know who she is. She looked like someone predominate.

"Well are you going stand there all day?" She spoke in an orotund tone, and walked towards me. "My name is Sarah Khalifa, Ahmed's older and only sister. So you must be the obscure Layla that I have heard much less of. I have been most athirst to meet you, the graceful bride." Sarah hugged me, though it was one sided and awkward. She had a bubbly and elegant outlook.

"Nice to meet you Sarah," I said, in a low tone.

"I can not wait to take you shopping for your wedding gown," she said. "We have a lot to discuss and many decisions to make." I looked at Ahmed, who stood afar, his arms crossed across his chest. Looking displeased.

"Yeah I can't wait too," I replied, my gaze still stuck on Ahmed. Who looked anywhere but at his sister.

"Well I must get going now, I have a meeting to attend. I will come pick you up on Sunday with my chauffeur at about 11:00 o'clock. The planning and shopping will begin then," she said. "Hope that's okay?" She turned to look at Ahmed.

"That's fine," he replied in a flat tone. Before she left she quickly kissed me on the cheeks, alternating, three times.

"I'll see you on Sunday," she said and waved, standing by the door. When she left, Ahmed walked past me and was heading towards the stairs.

"Clearly somethings bothering you," I said, and turned to look at him.

"It's not worth to mention," he spoke.

"But I would like listen, maybe I can help, but if not at least you won't hurt alone. Like last time..."

"That was a mistake. I don't even know why I came to talk to you," he said in a low-harsh tone.

"Mistake or not, it was nice that you shared your feelings with me. If you want to talk, I'll be here." I walked to him, and stood besides him. He glared at me, his facial expression was showing nothing but complete ire. But if you look past all the anger, you could also see fear and void. "You aren't alone Ahmed. I am here." Unanticipatedly, he held my wrist and dragged me up the stairs, and towards the bedroom.

I didn't say anything nor yell, because if I did, it would wake up Imad and scare him. It would worry him.

He closed the door, and let go of my wrist. My heartbeats, beating faster than usual. I couldn't even get myself to look at him, I was startled. "You are scared, as you should be. Don't ever speak to me like that, like you know me. Like you figured out everything there is to me. Me talking to you that day was a mistake, it's simple as that. You can't just help it but meddle yourself in other people's affairs," he spoke. Tears streamed down my cheeks, not out of sadness but out of anger. I didn't say anything, he doesn't deserve it. And to think, that I believed Ahmed changing. I guess old habits do die hard.

It's like every time he lets himself feel, he becomes more vicious and rude. "Layla." I wiped my tears, and gathered enough tolerance and strength to look at him. "You are nothing but a maid. So stay in your lane."

"If you ever do need to talk. I will be here," I spoke, my voice already breaking. Brittle. Even though he's being rude, I can't help it but feel sorry for him. Nobody deserves to feel alone. As I walked passed him, he grabs my wrist again. I almost slept him, but he held my hand and pulled me in close. So close that our breaths mingled. We shared an incensed stare, for a moment. "Let go of me," I said in a harsh tone.

"I don't need to talk to you. The obvious difference between you and me. Is that I am not desperate," he said.

"You are as distasteful as your brother. Now let go of me, unless you want to attend the wedding alone. Before you even think about grabbing my hand, or even touching me. Consider the consequences, I leave you and take the next flight to California and I will file for a divorce. The next time we meet it will be in a courtroom," I spoke in a sturdy tone, and escaped from his grip.

"Don't worry I'll have my lawyers have the papers ready before you even reach California," he said and left the room. I sat on the sofa and thought a lot about what he had said. I just want this to end as soon as possible.

❤️

🎉