He paused.
“Whether she was a virgin.”
My mother lowered her eyes.
Zayd’s voice softened, but his words remained firm.
“I am not saying Layla made every decision correctly. Neither did I. But I refuse to pretend that I have lived a perfect life while demanding perfection from her.”
For the first time since I had lifted my veil, I felt something other than terror.
It wasn’t relief.
Zayd hadn’t erased the truth, and he hadn’t made the consequences disappear.
But he had refused to let everyone place the entire burden on me.
And that mattered.
My father’s expression remained cold.
“You are defending a woman you barely know.”
Zayd glanced at me.
“Perhaps. But I know enough to recognize a double standard when I see one.”
Then he turned toward me.
“Layla, I owe you an apology.”
I stared at him.
“For what?”
“For not telling you who I really was. I knew my family was arranging this meeting, and I should have considered the possibility that we might meet again. I should have been honest.”
