unknown fate

Chapter Five, Episode Nine

Scene 1

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of Gharam’s uneven breathing. She stared at Imam with questioning eyes, while he seemed to have made a decision from which there was no return.

**Imam** (calm but firm): — No, Gharam… it’s not impossible. It’s the truth.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook. For a moment, the room stilled before he began writing a large sum in steady handwriting. Then, without hesitation, he slid the check toward her.

**Imam** (his voice carrying both firmness and a trace of tenderness): — I don’t want you doing this work anymore. Whatever you need, call me… Here’s a check for a significant amount, and this is my phone number.

Gharam couldn’t find the words. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at the paper in her hand, as if unable to believe what was happening. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the check, trying in vain to hide her turmoil behind the silent flood of tears.

Imam rose quietly, walked toward the apartment door, opened it, and stepped out without looking back. His choice was clear, but his heart felt unbearably heavy.

The moment the door shut, Gharam collapsed, her tears streaming freely, releasing the weight of a long struggle that had been locked inside her.

Outside, Imam descended the worn staircase slowly. The night wrapped the place in a heavy stillness, and his face reflected a deep sorrow. Each step on the creaking stairs felt heavier than the last, as though the burdens of the world pressed down on his shoulders.

Reaching the street, he pulled out his car keys, opened the door, and slid behind the wheel. For a brief moment, he sat in silence, his thoughts swirling, before starting the engine. The car pulled away, carrying him into the night, while the echoes of what had just transpired lingered in his mind like an unshakable shadow.

Scene Two

Imam entered his bedroom with heavy, dragging steps, as though his body carried the weight of endless days of exhaustion and disappointment. He undressed slowly, with no desire for anything except to shed the burden of the day, yet the weariness etched on his face was not of the body alone—it was the fracture of a spirit worn down from within.

He moved closer to the bed and sat on its edge for a moment, his head bowed, his eyes searching the sleeping features of Asrar beside him. She seemed still, peaceful like a child, while within him raged a storm that never ceased.

Leaning slightly toward her, his words were less an address to her than a muffled confession to the darkness itself. He whispered, his voice heavy with regret:

— You too, Asrar… I don’t know which of us wronged the other. Was it me, for failing you and never giving you your due? Or was it you, for dooming yourself the day you agreed to marry a man like me?

He fell silent for a moment, then his tone cracked, as if speaking to someone long gone:

— God rest your soul, Jad… I told you, it shouldn’t have been me. She deserved a better husband than this.

His hand moved slowly, pulling the blanket up to his chest, then he slipped beneath it, body drained and spirit fractured. He closed his eyes, but sleep did not come easily; his words echoed inside him, chasing him like a curse, while the darkness sealed the room in a suffocating silence.

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Scene Three

Morning light seeped through the curtains as Emam sat at the dining table with his family, sharing breakfast.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He rose from his seat, leaving his plate untouched, and walked steadily toward his office. With deliberate care, he closed the door behind him, creating a barrier between himself and the warmth of the family table.

He answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

Emam: “Hello…”

A familiar voice came through, edged with agitation.

Ghali: “I’m sorry, Emam, but a birth isn’t something anyone can control… To be honest, I never wanted him to marry that girl or have a child with her. But what can I do? He insisted, and her father—well, he’s not from our class. Still, it happened, and now we must accept it. I’ll come to you tomorrow; we’ll have coffee together. There’s a big operation ahead of us, something we need to discuss.”

Emam: “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow, Ghali.”