I stared at him.
“I don’t need more things, Khalid. I need you to stop hurting me.”
For a second, he looked genuinely surprised.
Perhaps it was the first time I had said the words without apologizing afterward.
Then he grabbed my arm.
I pulled away, and he shoved me against the kitchen counter. Pain shot through my shoulder.
Lina appeared in the doorway.
“Baba, stop!”
Khalid released me.
The anger on his face vanished so quickly that it frightened me more than the anger itself.
He crouched in front of our daughter.
“Your mother and I are having a disagreement, habibti. Go to your room.”
Lina didn’t move.
“Please don’t hurt Mama.”
He glanced at me, then back at her.
“I would never hurt your mother.”
The lie came so easily that I almost admired its precision.
After Lina finally went upstairs, Khalid stood and straightened his shirt.
“We’re going to my parents’ house tomorrow,” he said. “You will tell them that you have been confused and that you are sorry for involving outsiders in our private affairs.”
