Chapter 9
Dalila dropped her hands, her pale face burning up in a split second, her lips trembling, pupils dilating as she stared at Asim.
The emotions pouring out of him, Asim rushed to Dalila, wrapping his hands around her, tears of relief dripping down his cheeks.
Dalila, still frozen, didn't move an inch as though surprised to see Asim so emotional. As though she didn't expect him to show love as he used to after what he had just seen.
But Asim didn't care about the surroundings, past or future. All he could feel was the present, that moment when he held Dalila - safe and unharmed.
"Thank god!" He exclaimed and pulled back, taking her face with his hands. "Thank god you're okay!"
The girl watched him with disoriented eyes before they became rimmed with tears. Her sobs pierced the silence as she buried her face in her hands.
"Come this way," Asim felt the woman's hand on his back, and a second later, he found himself alone with Dalila in a small room. He could only glimpse at the table, bookcases, and green couch.
"What happened? Why are you here?" Asim let out, watching the girl flopping on the couch, avoiding his gaze. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Who?" Dalila peeped up with bloodshot eyes, and Asim noticed a bitter smile across her lips. "I guess only you've been looking. Not my parents."
"What are you talking about?" Asim's voice softened as he sat beside her. Tears kept endlessly wetting Dalila's flushed cheeks, dribbling down her chin.
She was quiet before she wiped her face and looked up. "Did you see the kids here?" she asked. "Did you notice something different?" Asim, gazing into her eyes, remembered the glimpses of two boys murmuring closely, two girls holding hands, one boy sitting in the another's lap. "I... I don't know what you mean," he murmured, trying not to hurt Dalila even more.
"I saw you kissing that blonde girl." "And?!" Dalila scoffed. "Why aren't you shocked? Aren't you disgusted?" "I am surprised. I thought you had a boyfriend, but..." Asim responded honestly. "I'm not shocked. I'm not disgusted. I'm just happy to see you. That's all I am. Happy." New tears rolled down Dalila's face as she sighed. "I thought you'd hate me!" she cried out. Asim took her face, making her look up.
"Never," he said. "There's nothing that can make me hate you." Hugging him, Dalila dug her nose in his neck, wetting his shoulder with her tears. "Tell me, how did you end up here?" Asim asked after a few minutes. Calming a bit, Dalila rubbed her puffy eyes. "Fatima, the woman... She shelters gay people, who've been kicked out by their families," she replied. "She says she has a lot of money and doesn't know what to do with it. But I think she's not telling us the truth. I've seen a picture of her kid. Maybe something happened between them and she feels guilty. Maybe her daughter was a lesbian. I don't know."
Dalila gulped water from a bottle.
"Anyway. My dad read my messages to Grace. The blonde girl. My girlfriend," her eyes turned hazy. "He said I was sick and would never accept me if I didn't change. He didn't believe I was in love with Grace. So, he said I had to leave home. He was the one who arranged for me to leave. And I came here..." A smile spread on her face. "I've never been happier, Uncle, truly."
Asim remembered Omari's apathetic eyes, reluctance, and anger seeping out of his voice. "I'm sorry I worried you," Dalila continued. "But I just couldn't stay there." Asim grabbed her hands, holding them tightly. "Won't you come home?" he begged. "Please, let's go home. I'll talk to Omari. Everything will be fine." "No," Dalila shook her head, adamant. "I'm happy here. I'm free. I'm myself. I can finally express my true self and be with someone who I truly love. I can't come back. I can't give up this happiness."
Watching her brimmed eyes, Asim realized that Dalila had already fallen in love with this place, with the freedom it afforded her..
"I will talk to Omari," he smiled. "Until then, please be safe and please be in touch with me. I can't take the thought of losing you again."
Nodding, Dalila hugged him, and Asim let her warmth pour into him, winding his arms around the girl. He could feel her worn body, exhausted from the long, stressful journey. But she was where she felt accepted, where she felt at home. And her happiness was enough for his own.
***
The familiar dark hallway seemed damp and cold after the white walls of Rabat's buildings.
Asim knocked on the door, the usual sound breaking the silence. As it opened, he inhaled, brows furrowing.
"Are you alone?" Omari, watching quietly, nodded and opened the door widely. Walking inside, Asim closed it behind him and stopped in the hall. As though aware of
his thoughts, Omari clicked his tongue and turned, going into the kitchen and draining a glass of water into the sink.
"How could you make her leave?" Asim asked, trying to tame his tone of voice. "Your own daughter."
"It's the best decision I could’ve made in those circumstances," Omari replied, half-lidded. "She's not worthy of being part of my family anymore. She's a shame."
Asim gritted his teeth, remembering how outcast he was, just like Dalila. Forever isolated.
"Don't talk about her like that!" Anger burst out of Asim. "Why can't she love? Why is that a crime?"
"She can't love a girl!" Omari slammed the glass on the table. "She can be whoever she wants in Morocco. But not here. Not in my house."
Coldness, flowing out of Omari's eyes, spread into Asim like a winter breeze, and he almost shivered.
"Does Lapis know?" he asked.
"No," Omari shook his head. "And it's better if she never does. No one knows except me. And now you. But Lapis will never know. The least we can do is spare her the shame. Understand me, Asim.”
He narrowed his eyes at Asim, then turned his back and stared out the window. Silence ensued, broken only by the street noise.
Asim watched his back, waiting for him to turn around and utter a word that would show his love, or his guilt. Anything. Just a word. But Omari stood unmoving, the sunshine coming through the window turning him into a black silhouette. A thought, that perhaps black was the color of his soul as well, crossed Asim's mind.
"So, even if she comes back, you won't accept her?" Asim's voice vibrated through the empty room.
"Never."
Chapter 10
Clouds drifted across the sky, in the same rhythm of the cars rolling by on the busy streets. The clamor, turned into a grating hum, raised as the traffic lights flickered from red to green to yellow, then back to red. The streets of Cairo were defined by the endless flickering and
dancing of color and noise. The desert wind, scattering sand and debris, messed up people's hair and clothes. Everything was always coated in dust.
Asim, his hands on the wheel, looked through the car window, his face turning bright, as if illuminated by an inner sun. He gave a little wave, watching Dalila and Grace walk out of the airport with a small, rolling suitcase. He appraised Dalila's broad but nervous smile, her flushed cheeks. He noted Grace's shining hair, and honey-brown, sweet eyes. Kind and uncertain. Fierce with love for his niece.
"Hey, Uncle!" Dalila exclaimed as they got in the car after putting the luggage in the trunk. "Thanks for the lift."
"Of course," Asim smiled and turned to shake Grace's hand. "I'm Asim Ali. We didn't have a chance to meet."
"Grace Rossi," she replied with a distinct accent and modest smile. "I'm from Italy."
"Have you left because of your parents too?" Asim asked and started the engine, glancing at Dalila in the passenger's seat.
"I haven't been in contact with them for years now," Grace replied, and catching her melancholy gaze through the rare-view mirror, Asim realized he had touched upon a tender subject. He chastised himself for being so blunt with the young girl.
Driving through the traffic, Asim looked at Dalila, her eyes sparkling from anxiety, her knee jumping up and down as she tapped on the window.
"Everything will be okay," Asim assured her, trying to spread his calm onto the girls too. "I'm proud of you for coming back and having such courage. I think it's a good decision. Lapis should find out from you."
Nodding, Dalila swallowed and rubbed her face.
"I'm still scared," she muttered. "Scared of facing my dad. Seeing that look in his eyes again... that disappointment...” She trailed off. “I had never seen such hatred in him before," she blinked hard not to let the tears escape. "He is disgusted by me."
"He doesn't hate you. You are his daughter," Asim tried to encourage her. "He is just from a different era, a different mindset. He doesn't understand," he sighed. "But what he did to you Dalila... it's unforgivable. And I won't blame you if you never want to see him again."
"If I don’t see genuine guilt in him today," Dalila fixed her purple headscarf. "If he doesn't apologize, if he still calls me a shame...” She sighed. “Then that will be it. He will get his wish and never see me again."
She rolled down the window and took a deep breath of the dusty city air. "I'm right here," Asim took her hand. "Whatever happens, I'll be right beside you." Nodding, Dalila squeezed his hand, having no alternative but to collect all her courage
and steel herself for the upcoming confrontation. After a few moments they arrived at the house. Throwing open the car door, the two girls
ran up the entrance stairs, Dalila gripping Grace's hand like a life preserver. As Asim knocked on the door, he could feel Dalila quivering from anxiety. Then, as the
door opened, a mad squealing burst out. "Dalila! Dalila!! You are back!" The little boy jumped up on her, followed by his siblings.
The joyous kids kept pulling down Dalila as she tried to hold everyone, kissing their cheeks. "Oh, I missed you all so much!" she sobbed out. Then, a voice like a garbage compactor crushed the moment. "That's enough."
Everyone looked up. Omari stood in the center of the room, his hands glued to his sides, eyes turning hard and opaque.
"Kids, go to your rooms," he ordered, but Dalila held them back.
"No, everybody stay," she said, without taking her eyes off of Omari. "You have the right to know the truth too."
Suddenly the door opened behind their back, and a scream pierced the atmosphere.
"Dalila! You are here!" Lapis dropped the grocery bags, hugging the girl and then checking her face, hair, hands, legs as though making sure she wasn't just an imagination.
"Where were you?! Oh, my beautiful baby girl!! I’ve been worried sick! Where...” Lapis shook her head, as if clearing all the stress and sadness from her mind. “Dalila. Where have you been??"
Only then did Lapis notice Grace standing behind Dalila, and confusion replaced happiness on her face.
"Who is she?" Lapis asked urgently.
Silence fell. Dalila inhaled. The kids had lined up on the couch, gawking curiously as Omari stood motionlessly, his face a dark mask.
"This is Grace. She's my...girlfriend." Dalila let out with a steady voice and put her chin up, opening her shoulders. Her boldness surprised Asim, standing next to her. "We are in love."
"What?" Lapis laughed, but her smile vanished in a second. "You are joking, right?"
"I am not," Dalila said and took Grace's hand. "We met through the internet a year ago and have been in touch since then. That's why I had to leave..." She looked at Omari. "Or, was made to leave."
Lapis' eyes followed Dalila's gaze, turning more and more perplexed.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice thick with fear of what her daughter would say.
Asim watched Dalila, barely swallowing the ball of tears stuck in her throat.
Omari's eyelashes began fluttering as if trying to stop Dalila but having no strength for it. His lips turned in a smileless, straight line.
"Dad found my messages and made me leave," Dalila said stonily. "He arranged so that I could go to Morocco and live there. He told me to never contact any of you again."
Lapis stared blankly as if unable to grasp Dalila's words. Then a hot anger flared in her eyes, and she rushed to Omari, grabbing his shirt, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"How could you?? How could you do that?!" Lapis cried out. "To our daughter! And to me! And you... you just watched us suffer! You did not say a word, you coward!"
Silent, Omari peeled Lapis off of him and glared at Dalila.
"I was doing you a favor!" he let out. "We don't need a daughter like her. She will bring shame to our family. Nothing more."
Lapis stared back at him with teary eyes, now watching Dalila and Grace, as though Omari's words had begun settling into her mind.
Seeing the change in her mother, Dalila couldn't help but let the tears roll down her face.
"I don't need you anymore," she said to Omari. "I won't let you change me. And even if you give up on being my parents, I will still continue being my true self. I'm in love with Grace. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And nothing can change that." She looked at Asim, her eyes turning grateful. "At least I have someone who accepts me just the way I am. And because of that, I am lucky."
Giving her siblings kisses on their foreheads, Dalila opened the door. "Let's go?" Asim asked, and she nodded. Dalila froze in the doorway, and looking back at her parents, she waited, trying to elicit a
trace of realization from them or a momentary sign of love. Receiving nothing but tense silence, Dalila dropped her head and walked out.
Asim took his eyes off of Lapis and Omari, who both stood unmoving, watching Dalila leave. He did not understand how they could just let their own daughter go like that. But whatever went through their minds didn't matter anymore. Even if the whole world turned its back on Dalila, Asim would never leave her side.
***
Sprawled on the couch, Asim watched the TV. The images of old black and white movies flickered on the screen, the artificial voices lulling him as he dozed off.
Suddenly, a continuous knocking on the door woke Asim up. Startled, he jumped up from the couch.
The knocking kept on, steady and demanding. Sighing, Asim dragged his body up, plodding toward the door.
"I'm coming," he muttered, rubbing his sleepy eyes, stretching his heavy arms.
Quick, light footsteps crossed the room and flashed by him. Soon, the sound of giggling and murmuring reached him.
"Here. Here!" Dalila hurried to the door, with Grace following.
The girls, broad smiles stretched on their faces, their shining hair fluttering behind their backs. Twinkles danced in their eyes like sunbeams.
"Go back to watching TV, Asim," Grace turned, her eyes glittering. "More like snoring in front of the TV," Dalila chuckled, her cheeks dimpling. "Hey!" Asim laughed with fake rebuke, but the girls opened the door before he could
scold them. More squealing and laughter flowed into the house as the kids rushed in, surrounding Dalila and her girlfriend, everyone hugging everyone.
"Oh, this is heavy." Walking in, Lapis put down the grocery bags and pinched Asim's cheek. "Help me, will you?"
Rubbing his stinging cheek, Asim nodded.
"Sorry," he laughed and took the fruits and vegetables out of the bags. "It's too much, Lapis. They barely eat anything! Half of the fridge goes bad every week."
Shaking her head, Lapis smiled at Dalila, who had approached and caressed her face with loving eyes.
"Making your uncle angry, huh?" she smiled.
Dalila raised her brows with a mischievous look before giggling and sitting at the table as Lapis cut up the fruit, Grace helping her.
"It's okay, honey," Lapis beamed at Grace. "You must be tired after the classes." "I like helping you," Grace replied, and Lapis gasped from surprise. "You've gotten much better in Arabic!" "She's naturally gifted," Dalila said, twisting Grace's long hair strand around her finger. Answering the door, Asim hugged Femi, letting Dalila's older sister in before she greeted everyone and, staring at the fruit on the table, burst out laughing. "I brought apples and oranges too!" she exclaimed and opened the bag. "It's okay!" the little boy let out. "We will eat it!"
Everyone laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "Let's sit," Asim suggested, and brought chairs to the table. "So, how do you like living with Asim?" Lapis asked, chewing an apple. "He's one grumpy old man, right?" "No, no," Grace smiled as Asim gave Lapis a slight nudge. "He's really nice and kind.
And not old at all." "Oh, she's being sweet," Dalila arched her brows and peeped at Asim, bottling up her titters. "He snores so much; it's louder than the trucks outside!" Laughter washed over the family. Everyone guffawed: kids, teenagers, and adults. Bellies and shoulders shook with glee. The family continued chattering with bright smiles, joking about their everyday lives, and discussing the upcoming summer vacation.
Watching them all, Asim felt different, as though he had turned into somebody else. For the first time in his life, he was truly happy. His soul and mind had calmed and found a peaceful place inside himself. With Dalila in his life, Asim knew that this feeling of serenity and harmony would never fade. He couldn't wait to watch Dalila grow older and happier alongside the love of her life.
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