unknown fate

Chapter Five

Scene One

Inside a seedy apartment, Imam sat on a worn-out couch in the living room, surrounded by the haze of hashish smoke and the bitter scent of alcohol. His glass was half full, and he lifted it to his lips from time to time, his eyes reflecting a strange mix of sorrow and fleeting joy.

Around him, women swayed in vulgar dances, laughing loudly, smoking hand-rolled joints, and sipping from their glasses of wine. The atmosphere was noisy, decadent—yet Imam’s heart seemed to drift elsewhere, detached from the chaos.

One woman drew close, her hand sliding into his, tugging him gently toward the bedroom with a silent invitation. Imam pulled his hand away sharply, his eyes cold with refusal. He rose suddenly, drained the last sip of his drink, and set the glass down.

Without a word, he walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out, leaving it wide open behind him—as if fleeing from something within himself more than from the place itself.

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Scene Two

Imam returned home late, just as the dawn call to prayer echoed in the distance: “Allahu Akbar… Allahu Akbar.”

He opened the villa’s door and entered, his face heavy with exhaustion and turmoil. His eyes quickly caught the sight of Ahlam, sitting alone on the living room couch, her expression tense yet composed.

He shut the door hard, ignoring her, and strode angrily toward the staircase.

Ahlam rushed to intercept him, hurrying to stand before him as his foot touched the first step.

Ahlam (hoarsely):

– Don’t you dare doubt me like you doubted Mother, Imam… The child in my womb is yours.

Imam (exploding):

– Yours from who?!

Ahlam (swallowing her tears):

– I got married… before Father died. Five months ago. To Amr.

Imam froze, his eyes narrowing with a sharp, rising anger:

– Amr? Who is this Amr, and why didn’t we know?!

Ahlam (pleading):

– Amr is a good man… if you met him, you’d like him. We married in secret because Father would never have agreed—Amr’s status is lower than ours. It was my idea… and now, I have no one but you.

Imam’s face softened slightly, but the harshness remained, a veil of disapproval he would not lift.

– And where is Amr now? Tell him to come to me.

Ahlam (fearfully):

– He’s terrified of you… He keeps saying, “Imam will kill me.”

Imam brushed past her and climbed the stairs, his voice stern and commanding:

– When I wake up, I want Amr here.

Ahlam’s lips curved into a sudden smile, as though she had just regained something long lost. Her face glowed faintly with relief, while Imam’s shoulders carried the crushing weight of it all.

At the top of the staircase, he turned slightly and asked, without looking back:

– The child in your womb… is it a boy or a girl?

Ahlam:

– I don’t know.

At last, a faint smile touched Imam’s lips, as though reclaiming an honor he had feared was lost. He stepped into his room and closed the door behind him.

Scene Three

Ahlam waited by her bedroom door until Imam had entered his room and closed it behind him. She climbed the stairs quickly toward her own room, slipped inside, and shut the door tightly. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone on the table. She grabbed it and dialed hastily. The phone rang once before Amr’s hesitant, shocked voice came through.

Ahlam (with urgent excitement):

– Amr… I have great news! Imam wants to meet you.

A stunned silence followed for a moment, then his voice came, tinged with both disbelief and fear:

Amr:

– Meet me?! He… he knows?

Ahlam:

– Yes, he knows everything… and he told me: “Let him come, I want to see him.”

(She sighed, trying to steady her voice)

– That’s after I tried to kill myself… and cut my wrist.

Amr’s reply was filled with shock and anger more than concern:

Amr:

– You’re crazy! How could you do that?!

Ahlam (her voice breaking with bitterness):

– So you’re so afraid for me? Every time I said “come and talk to my father,” you’d say, “I’m scared.” I had to do something drastic. Since the day I found out I was pregnant… you never thought to say, “I want to see you,” or even call me!

Amr stammered, words failing him, unable to face the truth:

Amr:

– But I… I…

Ahlam (cutting him off, eyes flashing):

– What? Are you scared again?

Amr (hesitant):

– No… I’m not scared.

Ahlam (firmly):

– Fine… come today and meet Imam. Don’t worry. He himself said, “Let him come.” I’ve cleared everything for you. All that’s left is for you to face him.

Finally, his voice came, resigned:

Amr:

– I’ll come, Ahlam.

Ahlam hung up and placed the phone on the bed. She paused for a moment, catching her breath. A faint, tear-streaked smile appeared on her lips, the smile of a woman who knows she is stepping into a dark tunnel but still sees a faint light at the end.

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Scene Four

Amr sat tensely on the couch in the villa’s living room, his hands fidgeting restlessly between his knees. Across from him, Ahlam sat on a separate chair, her eyes glued to him, wary and anxious. The silence was heavy, occasionally broken by the sound of footsteps descending from the upper floor.

At last, Imam appeared, slowly descending the staircase, his voice preceding him:

– You… Amr?

Amr turned instinctively, scanning for the source of the voice, then stood up, trembling. Ahlam also rose, ready to face what was coming.

Imam entered the living room, his eyes fixed on Amr, voice dripping with sharp sarcasm:

– Someone abandons his wife… and the child in her womb… just because he’s afraid to face her father?

(Looking at Ahlam)

– I thought you’d know how to choose, Ahlam… but it seems your husband is a coward.

He stepped closer to stand in front of the couch. Amr reached out to shake his hand, but Imam ignored it, sitting down on the chair with deliberate authority.

Imam (sternly):

– Sit.

(After a moment of staring Amr down)

– Where are your parents, Amr?

Ahlam quickly intervened, softening the moment:

– His father and mother are dead.

Imam let out a short, sarcastic laugh:

– Fine… bring your things and live here. You’re clearly reckless, no family, no place to stay. I can see it all on your face.

Then he turned to Ahlam, voice heavy with the authority of an elder brother:

– And you… your expenses will increase. Now you have a husband and child to be responsible for. Alright, goodbye… I’ll leave you and your husband.

(He stood and added sarcastically, walking toward his office)

– A husband? If you had married a pair of shoes, it would have been better.

Amr froze for a moment, then stood up, his voice trembling though he tried to sound composed:

– Mr. Imam…

Imam stopped, slowly turning, his gaze full of contempt:

– What do you want?

Amr (softly):

– I… I wanted to thank you for this meeting. I expected you to shoot me.

Imam approached him slowly, speaking coldly:

– Don’t thank me… thank Ahlam. And remember… I consider you part of this family now. I hope you live up to that trust.

He then continued toward his office, chuckling to himself:

– Glad I humiliated him in front of his wife… is this a man? Looks like a money dog… this guy.