“What made you think that?”
She cried quietly.
“Because I was afraid of what would happen if the family broke apart. I was so concerned about the shame that I did not properly consider what was happening to you.”
I could hear how difficult it was for her to say those words.
“I accept that you are sorry,” I told her. “But I cannot promise to return to Khalid. And I cannot allow Lina to grow up believing that love means being afraid.”
“I understand,” she whispered.
For the first time, I believed she might.
Not because she had suddenly become perfect, but because she had finally stopped asking me to carry the family’s silence.
Several months later, the investigation into the documents continued.
I did not follow every rumor or every conversation about Khalid. I had learned that public attention could be unpredictable, and I did not want my recovery to depend on whether other people were discussing my marriage.
