She blinked, focussing on a bright white light switch across the room.
“I thought you would never wake up,” he said, moving to the side of the bed, his arms crossed as he looked at her with an intensity that she felt, even when not lifting her eyes to his.
“How long?”
“A week.” The word was tortured. “Seven days, seven nights – it might as well have been a lifetime.”
She swallowed. There was so much she wanted to say, but her throat wasn’t up to it.
“Drink.”
He nodded, bringing the cup back to her lips. She sipped it, and it helped, immensely. When the doctor returned, he held some tablets in his hand. “Painkillers.” He watched as she swallowed them and, seconds later, the twins were wheeled in, each in their own little crib. She held her breath then. A nurse propped her up with pillows, and put more on either side, before bringing one of the children to her. She stared at her daughter and her heart exploded.
She felt – everything. Nothing mattered beyond this perfection.
The second twin was brought and placed into the other arm, so Sophia had both her children in her lap. She stared at them for a long time, noting every detail, silently communicating with them. They had lived inside of her and she had given them life.
Gratitude exploded within Sophia – gratitude that she was here, with them, that the pregnancy complications hadn’t robbed her of this. She dropped her head forward, placing a kiss on each forehead. Her arms hurt and her head grew heavy but she refused to say as much.
Malik noticed though. He leaned closer, so only she could hear. “You are tired. We will put the twins here, in their cribs, so you can watch them as you fall asleep.”
Her heart squeezed, because it was exactly what she needed. She had already missed too much of their little lives – she didn’t want to miss another breath.
She woke several hours later, much stronger and well-feeling, and immediately looked for her children. One slept in the crib, the other was on Malik’s lap, a bottle in his competent, large hands. The sight of her husband feeding their daughter tied her up in knots. She swallowed for a different reason now – her throat was no longer lined with razor blades but filling with the taste of salty tears.
Sensing her movement, Malik lifted his head, pinning her with his gaze. Their eyes locked, neither able to pull away, and grief threatened to return to Sophia despite the perfection of the two people they’d created.
“This one is always hungry,” he said with a smile, a slow smile that set fire to her soul. “She has my brother’s eyes and my appetite.”
The sob surprised Sophia. She lifted her hands to her eyes, pushing against them, turning her face away at the same time. Malik stood, she heard him, even when she wasn’t looking at him. He came to her bed and perched on its edge, still holding their daughter in his hands.
“I had no idea if you would come back to me, Sophia,” he said, the words gravelled. “I have spent this week imagining what I would say to you if this happened, and now that you’re before me, awake, I find the words won’t come out.”
She kept her face averted.
“I imagined apologising to you, but not being able to find the right way – what could I say that would sufficient for what I had done?”
Her throat hurt again. She squeezed her eyes shut; hot tears burned against her eyelids.
“Every time I thought I knew what I would say to you, I closed my eyes and remembered your pain, remembered the generosity of your heart that had you trying
so hard to make me see… to make me understand… and the way I failed you, because I refused to even listen.”
She bit back another sob, her heart was trembling. “You were honest with me,” she said, after a moment, when she could trust her voice to speak.
“I do not think I was even honest with myself, Sharafaha.”
He lifted a hand, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“All I cared about was pushing you away. We had to sleep together, for the sake of an heir, to validate this marriage, but that was all. I was determined. And I clung to that even when you begged me to open my eyes and see the truth.”
“Malik,” she bit down on her lip, her eyes finally lifting to his. She felt like she was being drowned. “You made me open my eyes, to see your truth, and I get it. I understand. You will never be able to separate guilt towards Addan from our marriage, and I’m not going to try to make you. We have the twins, we have your heirs. It is enough.”
He was quiet for a moment. “And is this enough for you?”
Her eyes dropped to the baby in his arms, and a small smile shifted on her pale face. “These children will become my world. This will be enough.”
He made a guttural, groaning noise and shook his head. “Not for me, and not I think for you, either. Sophia, you came to Abu Faya and nothing has ever been the same since. From the first moment I saw you and Addan together, I hated you. I told myself it was your Americanness, then that I was jealous – Addan had been my closest friend until you, and then, everything was ‘Sophia this’, ‘Sophia that’.”