Now, to be off to Riyadh for the business with Akeem and Mary. As soon as Jabr left the Palace, the urgency of his task weighed on him. He needed to explain the trip to Jomana, especially after everything between them had been left unsaid on the matter. His feet carried him quickly back to the hospital, but his thoughts lagged, reluctant to stir old tensions.
When he entered the room, he found Jomana nursing the baby, with Janiah at her side. Janiah sat stiffly, her fingers twitching ever so slightly, as if they ached to take over and show Jomana how things were done. She was holding back, he could see that much, but her expression betrayed her inner conflict. What had been normal and natural for a woman like Janiah, raised in the desert and accustomed to the unembellished rhythms of life, was foreign to Jomana, a woman of privilege. He silently prayed Janiah would manage to keep her criticisms to herself. He didn’t have time to mediate their unspoken tension.
“Jomana,” he said, breaking the silence, “Mary and I must leave now for Riyadh. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Jomana’s eyes remained fixed on the baby for a moment, her lips tightening at the corners. “So, you’ll see Akeem.” Her tone was measured, though there was a sharpness beneath it that Jabr recognized.
“Yes, of course. That’s the point. We must get this finished.”
She stopped nursing and adjusted her robe, shifting the baby into a more comfortable position. “What will you say to him?”
He hesitated. “The purpose, of course, is Mary, to close out and end the money transfers.” He edged closer to the bed, hoping to shift the focus.
But Jomana wasn’t finished. “I feel like Akeem and I left things… unsaid,” she continued, her voice softer now, almost uncertain. “We were engaged once, remember? Arranged, yes, but I thought… I thought it was real, in a way.” She cast a glance toward Janiah, who sat silent but observant, then returned her gaze to Jabr, her eyes searching his face for some kind of reaction. “But yes, that’s behind all of us. Just make sure and leave it there when you talk with him.”
Jabr nodded, his jaw tightening. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have now. The thought of his wife still lingering, in even the smallest way, over her past with Akeem stirred something dark and restless within him. He stepped closer, taking her hand, trying to mask his discomfort. “I’ll give him your regards,” he offered, his words stiff, formal.
Jomana’s face remained unreadable, but her hand tightened in his for just a moment before she let go. “I’m not sure what ‘regards’ are. But I suppose that’s all that’s left to say, isn’t it?” she replied quietly, her gaze slipping back to the baby in her arms.
Jabr nodded again, his mind already shifting to the journey ahead, but the unease lingered. The idea of his wife thinking about Akeem, especially now, left a bitter taste in his mouth. He forced a thin smile, but it was met with silence. Neither of them smiled, really.
He glanced over at Janiah, who was watching the exchange with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. Her eyes were sharp, but her mouth remained tightly shut, as if she had a thousand words to say but had learned to swallow them all, a skill learned in the desert.
There was no time for more. What had to be done had to be done, and he could wait no longer.
“I’ll return as soon as I can,” Jabr said, his voice firm, as if that might reassure them.
Janiah gave a curt nod. “Do what needs doing, Jabr. And quickly.”
Jomana didn’t respond, only looked down at the baby, her fingers stroking his hair absently. The weight of what wasn’t said hung in the air between them. He knew he was leaving the women in a strained silence, but for now, it couldn’t be helped.
Without another word, he turned and left, feeling the tug of unfinished business—both in Riyadh and at home.
