He spoke calmly. He even sounded concerned.
His mother turned toward me.
“Amal, my daughter, marriage requires patience. Khalid works hard. Sometimes men carry burdens they don’t know how to express.”
I felt the familiar pressure to nod.
Then she added, “Think of Lina. A child needs both parents.”
“I do think of Lina,” I said. My voice shook, but I continued. “That’s why I’m asking for the violence to stop.”
The room fell silent.
Khalid stared at me.
His father put down his coffee.
“What violence?”
For a moment, I could not speak. I had imagined this conversation many times, but the reality of saying it in front of the people who had raised my husband was overwhelming.
“He has hit me,” I said. “He threatens me. He controls who I speak to. And Lina is frightened of him.”
Fatimah pressed a hand to her chest.
Khalid stood immediately.
