After a five-year separation, we coincidentally met at a hospital where he was sitting in the waiting area for the gynecology department. I saw him from behind my veil and was lost in memories of the past, remembering the time when he had come to ask for my hand. I was overjoyed because I always passed by his electronics store and my heart would race every time.
I was infatuated with him and never hesitated for a moment to accept his marriage proposal. Not only was he handsome, but he was also the dream of most girls in the neighborhood.
Our engagement lasted for two years; he often called me, and we would talk, or he would send me voice messages on WhatsApp. Sometimes he complained that I didn’t know how to read or write, laughingly calling me his illiterate beloved. He had no idea how much this sentence embarrassed me.
A nurse’s voice interrupted my thoughts, “Fatima Al-Bureiki? Can you please provide your identification card? Some information is missing in the records.” I handed her my ID card and moved forward, but she looked back at me. Perhaps she remembered the girl to whom he had sent a message through his mother one morning, saying he no longer wanted to marry me, without any explanation. And not only that, but he also said he was leaving the neighborhood. He had broken my heart terribly.
Had his conscience awoken? Was he thinking that perhaps I was the girl he wanted to apologize to? Oh, he was approaching me, “Peace be upon you, can I sit with you?” I nodded, and he sat down. After a moment of silence, he said, “Fatima, please forgive me. I know I treated you very badly and I realize that my mistake is unforgivable, but this remorse kills me every day.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I could only ask, “Why?”
He was silent for a few moments, then quietly said I couldn’t find any excuse for myself.
I replied in a sarcastic tone Because I am illiterate, right?
He lowered his head and said nothing. I added, “Forgiveness is a sign of greatness. I had forgiven you a long time ago. By the way, what are you doing here? And why in this department?”
He lifted his head and said My wife is in the operating room; she is giving birth to our baby.
I took a moment to think about what kind of woman she must be, whom he had preferred over me. I asked, “Congratulations, who is her doctor?”
He smiled and said Dr. Al-Fat’hi.
My heart started racing at his answer. That’s great he is the best doctor at the hospital. I’m also having my pregnancy care handled by him.
He replied Congratulations, you also have your pregnancy care handled by the doctor? Doesn’t your husband mind?”
Then he said Sorry I intruded into your personal life.
I looked at him in disbelief, wondering if it was jealousy, curiosity, or mockery. I replied, “My husband doesn’t mind because he wants to take care of our son’s health himself.
I finished my statement and looked carefully at my belly; I didn’t see any disappointment on his face.
After a few moments of silence, he asked questioningly Dr. Al-Fat’hi is your husband?
I was about to respond when I saw my husband approaching me in his white doctor’s uniform, smiling with love in his eyes, which I am so fond of. My dear, forgive me, I am late; there was a surgery.
Oh, what good deed had I done to deserve such a loving husband? My tears became uncontrollable. Without caring about what others around us would think, I hugged him tightly as if I had seen him after years. Are you okay, my love?
He held me and took me to his office, where he made me sit on a chair and gave me a glass of water. He lifted my veil; I drank the water, and then he worriedly asked again, How do you feel?
I replied I feel very good because you are my husband. We will Today find out the gender of our baby. I am very happy.
My words mixed with tears of joy, and he responded Yes God willing, my love.
He wiped my tears and kissed my forehead, then asked Are you ready to meet our baby or baby girl?
I happily said Absolutely ready.
He then helped me onto the examination table and examined me with great care. I watched him and kept asking What is the baby?
Then he joyfully said Our baby will be a boy, my love.
I hugged him, and tears of joy were flowing down my cheeks Our son will be like you.
He replied No, I want him to be like you.
I laughed and said Didn’t we decide that if it’s a boy, he would be like you, and if it’s a girl, she would be like me?”
He laughed, the same laughter I adore, and said Alright, dear wife, but now you should get up so you don’t miss the exam, my beautiful one
I momentarily panicked when I remembered the exam—it was the baccalaureate exam. “Don’t worry, and don’t be anxious. Everything will be fine.
I nodded. Will you come with me?”
He replied Certainly, I will wait in front of the school until you finish your exam.
We have been married for four years, and I have never felt the educational gap between us. He has always been loving, and I have never felt a lack with him. He has proven to be an excellent husband for me, and I have also tried to be the best wife. Being with him, I have healed from all my wounds and considered him a divine remedy in my life, with no more pain to follow.
Dr. Waheed
