The Nanny

Chapter Twenty Seven

"You can stop interrogating me now. If you were hoping you'd get something out of me, it won't happen," Ahmed spoke in a gruff tone.

"At least I tried," I said, and sighed. Ahmed and I have been arguing for the past twenty minutes and it feels like eternity. I couldn't even get through him, I am so tired. He didn't even look at me, not even once, the whole time I was trying to talk to him - he continued reading his files. He ignored me as if I were invisible. Ahmed hasn't been talking to me for the last couple of days, well we haven't spoken to each other. I guess we were both trying to pretend like everything's okay, when it's not. Sugarcoating reality.

I am done with pretending like everything's fine, I decided it would be good if I talked to him and communicate. Instead of concealing truths that could lead to misunderstandings. But Ahmed Damari is the most difficult man I have ever met.

"Can you leave please. I have work to do," he said flatly.

"What happened to meeting half way, trust and communicating?" I said, my tone higher than his. "Sound familiar? Or maybe you just don't care enough to remember."

"Honestly Layla, say what you want to say. Believe whatever your mind makes up, I really don't care," he said and looked at me stone faced, showing no concern. Though if you scrutinized his eyes well you would see a glint of affliction.

"I don't believe that... I don't want to," I spoke, sounding rather brittle.

"I have to give it to you, you don't give up easily. What do you want? To talk about life, you want us to talk about your feelings? You honestly think that I have time for that nonsense."

"Ahmed I am your wife... legally," I spoke quietly.

"I don't need a reminder Layla. You are a reminder that I am bound to months or possibly a year of complete agony..."

"Enough," I cut him off. "Whatever problem you have with me, you can tell it to my face. Whether you hate me or not, I am your wife. I am forced to keep an act, sham whatever you want to call it. I refuse to stand here, and listen to you criticize me and disapprove of everything I have to say. I refuse to live like this because I can't. I was brought up in a family where we could talk out or issues and set things right. You can hide all you want behind your work. Pretend to not care, deny yourself of basic humanity, but I won't."

"You don't know me," he said and stood up from his seat, his hands on the desk.

"I don't think anyone does. I don't know why I care so much that I am going through all of this, maybe it's the fact we could end up in jail and Imad would be taken away. Never getting to see him again, just the thought of that is heartbreaking..." I shifted my gaze to the floor. "Or maybe I am just trying to find a friend, in my so called husband," I spoke in a low tone. I walked away, my heart feeling heavier than when I came in. Maybe I was right all along, it was all an act. Every nice and decent thing he's done or said to me was just a performance, a cruel pose to get me to abide him. A coverup...

My hand stayed still on the door knob, felt like I was frozen for a moment. I turned my head around swiftly, to get catch a glimpse of Ahmed, running his fingers through his hair. I just don't understand why he won't talk to me. I opened the door and got out, closing the door behind me.

I headed to the garden, where I left Alice and Imad. He was riding his bike. Maybe Imad could be fine without me, and he doesn't really need my attention as much. I am free most of the day, since Alice does most of the work: taking Imad to school and picking him up. Jane retired, she no longer works any more. You can imagine how boring it can get, when you don't really have many people to talk to. Ahmed hired new maids, instructed them strictly not to go to the guest bedroom upstairs, where I sleep. Every morning I have to sneak to Ahmed's bedroom and get my clothes.