Description
HARIJIN MIJI BOOK COMPELET
Lying in the dimness of the room, silent and piercing tears accompanied by a heavy sigh gently descended from her tightly closed eyelids. She pressed them shut with such intense emotion that a single glance would reveal she was desperately trying to recall her early childhood. She clutched a pillow tightly to her chest, her hands crumpling it as she drifted into deep thought, just wanting to remember if she had any good memories at all.
It took her a long while to drift into those thoughts before the faces of her parents began to float through her eyes and mind. She had only spent six to seven years with them; at that time, she never imagined her life would turn out the way it did after they passed away.
Indeed, she had never seen a man as knowledgeable and gentle-hearted as her father. In the entire world, there was nothing he loved more than her. Back then, even when he drank alcohol while she was young, she did not know he was drinking because he never harmed them. He would simply get drunk, come home late at night, and go straight to sleep without doing any work. Usually, she would only see her mother struggling to take care of everything they needed. Yet, despite often finding them in distress and worry, they never once had a verbal argument or a fight.
Her father would brush her hair whenever she was going to school, take her there, wait by the school gates until dismissal, and then they would return home together.
Her mother searched for money, food, and everything else they needed. From her perspective, life flowed without turmoil—until her father passed away after being hit by a car.
They entered a difficult state. Previously, she could not even faint without recalling the immense love he showed her. Even at school, she would constantly gaze at the spot where he used to sit and wait for her. Sometimes, she would sit there from morning until dismissal, crying and hoping he would return to pick her up.
When her mother fell ill, all her pampering vanished completely. She learned patience, compassion, and how to care for the sick. Before long, Allah took her mother as well, and she was placed in the care of an uncle. Those few years she spent with her parents were the only good part of her childhood memories, even though for a long time she hated remembering him because it brought her nothing but grief over her deceased parents.
Sometimes, her soft tears would fall alongside a smile; other times, she felt her heart pulled so high up that it felt as though it might burst right out of her chest.
In that state, she felt as though someone was knocking on her door. She remained rigid without opening her tightly shut eyes, the knocks shifting from soft to quite forceful.
Slowly, she turned, placed her hand over her smooth face to wipe away her tears, and sluggishly climbed down. Without a single thought in her mind, she opened the bedroom door and saw Khaleel standing there, holding a cup of cold water, watching the trails of tears running down her face.
She gave him a brief glance. Everything about him was intact, save perhaps for his cap, which was missing from his head. One hand was tucked inside his pocket. He greeted her, but she didn’t utter a single word in response. She turned away, walked back to her bed, pulled the pillow over, and rested her head on it.
She closed her eyes briefly and opened them when she felt him sit down right beside the edge of the bed.
Neither of them said anything to the other. He gave a slight tap on the mattress. She raised her eyes and saw him holding out a glass of water along with a pill. She accepted it and swallowed it without saying a word.
Silence hung between them. Halisa crossed her arms tightly and turned her face away with a scowl, signaling that she just wanted to be alone because he was annoying her. Meanwhile, inside his heart, he was hoping she would thank him and explain certain things he knew would confuse her about him, but knowing her personality, he didn’t know where to begin.
"What do you want?" she asked in a low, strained voice, cutting through his thoughts.
Looking at her calmly, he said, "Do you want to talk?"
She tried to put on a stern attitude to cut him off, but he interrupted, "Hey, I am your personal doctor. So, there is nothing personal between us right now. It is my job and my duty to take care of your mental health and your emotional state."
Staring at him with her eyes, she retorted, "So what if I don't want to talk to you? Do you have to force me?"
Dropping a cryptic smirk, he replied, "No, there is no compulsion in it, but I will persuade you, since I don't like eating forbidden fruit. Come on, this isn't what I want, and I know you don't want it either. But can we just behave like our age today?"
She sat up slowly and asked, "What age?"
Without looking at her, he answered, "Matured age, I guess," since the age gap between them wasn't very large. Looking straight into his eyes, she said, "But I am the only matured mind here."
Observing the anger in her eyes and curling his lip, he disagreed: "I disagree. I am also surprised that your mature mind is not strong enough to handle small matters. You came here crying because Maryam brought up family gossip in front of you. Isn't that right, or is it not?"
Interrupting him sharply, she said, "That is right. To you, family is something you call a small matter? Hmm... you really need a doctor for yourself."
Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "What doctor? I am completely healthy."
Softly, she replied, "I am healthy, too. You just need a psychiatrist, period."
Softly, he asked, "Why?"
A heavy sigh escaped her, and she stood up directly in front of him, looking down as he kept his gaze on the floor without lifting it. She said, "A sick person cannot nurse another sick person, and you yourself are the kind of person who doesn't even understand who you are yet. You act like your life is perfect while it's not. You think you can heal me like this? No, you can't. I only know business transactions, but I can tell you who you are without even pausing for breath."
He raised his head slowly and stared at her unblinkingly for a full two minutes before saying, "Hmm, okay. Tell me. I've been wanting to know who I am for a long time."
Her eyes welled up with tears, and with a soft display of pride, she said, "My time is valuable, so let's call it free advice. The worst thing that can happen to a human being in life is not knowing where they are heading with their life. Let's start from the beginning: I never had a family or a childhood, but you have your family and yet you keep pushing them away.
"The day we went to the hospital together, I wished my uncle had heard Grace's words and repented, so I could have forgiven him long ago. I know that arrogance and lack of composure are the only things that can make a person refuse to forgive their parents, no matter what they did."
He clicked his tongue, his body trembling as he stood up, interrupting her. With his eyes narrowing and widening, he said, "What brought this up? I don't want to hear it. That's enough. I don't want to hear my parents' names from your mouth ever again, you hear? Because how dare you talk about my family? You should know that everything you are saying here is something you have no knowledge of, so just shut up and don't bring it up again."
She stepped closer to him and asked, "What is it that I don't know about? The fact that you told your mother not to come to your house? Or the fact that she walked out crying that day because of your wife? And just now, your biological family came just to be with you—we were all happy, but you sent them away coldly like a monster."
Furious, raising his voice, he shouted, "Stop it, right there! I told you to stay out of this matter; it is none of your business. Do not... talk... about... my personal life... ever again. Stay in your limits, Halisa."
With fierce stubbornness, she answered back, "I will not stay in my limits because I will not stay out of your life. The truth is bitter—I learned that from you! Because even before you knew about my family, you told me their story just to humiliate me and associate me with a prostitute. But I won't do that to you. You said I am your patient, right? Why do you think I would stay with a doctor like you to fix my life when I am not even like you? My father never dismissed me, I never made my mother shed a tear, and I don't respond to anger with violence. If someone loves me purely for the sake of Allah, I cannot degrade them even if I don't love them. But the way you are treating your own wife, Amina Talba—right from the beginning—is fucking disgusting. What is the crime of the people who brought you into this world, suffered, and raised you? And what is the crime of the woman who attempted to sacrifice her life just to be with you?"
His anger flared intensely at her words, and he let out a hot hiss from deep within. He didn't know what to say to her because his chest was boiling.
"Well, my personal life is not up for discussion. Therefore, I will not answer you, and I don't have time for you, you hear?"
He turned angrily to leave, but she quickly grabbed his shirt. He turned back slightly and lowered his blazing red eyes onto her.
Wiping her eyes dry, she told him, "Where are you going? I haven't finished yet, because any person who cannot own up to their flaws has a dangerous lack of self-awareness. If you believe in yourself, answer me, Mister."
He yanked his shirt out of her grasp with force, his anger spiraling wildly, and said, "I value my space and time, so I expect you to respect that."
She retorted, "What respect? You just never seem to learn from your mistakes."
Swallowing something bitterly painful down his throat, he said, "Mistakes? When were you even born, and what do you even know about life? You're just so delusional it's almost entertaining to watch you speak."
Frowning further and looking straight into his eyes, she said, "It's okay. I've already accepted the barest minimum from a loser like you."
In a fit of blazing fury, he violently yanked her toward him until they crashed against the wall in a scramble. Nothing could be heard except the sound of their heated, angry, and turbulent breaths passing between them.
With one hand, he pinned her against the wall. She looked at him, her eyes completely filled with tears, and said with a crying voice, "What is this? Let me go... don't hurt me, please."
In the struggle, the finely knitted net of her long gown accidentally caught onto the chain of his wristwatch. As they both tried to untangle it simultaneously, the warmth of their breath intermingled, suffocating them to the point where Halisa could no longer bear it.
She yanked his arm hard, as if trying to snap the watch off his wrist. The friction caused it to burn him.
He barked a command, "Be still!" But before he could even close his mouth, she let out a piercing cry, bursting into tears.
"Let me go, let me go!" With her other hand, she struck him across the chest, completely knocking the wind out of him.
Suppressing his anger, he cradled her face in his hand and said, "Please calm down, Halisa. Halisa, look at me."
She looked at him, her tears spilling over onto his hand. "Please don't touch me! I am not your wife for you to touch my body whenever you please. Please take your hands off me, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"
Frustrated and exasperated by her screaming, he shouted, "Did I do it on purpose? It wasn't my wish either; your dress got caught on my watch, can't you see?"
She yelled back, "I don't care, just remove it! I don't want your body touching mine. You don't know the dignity of a woman; I will never want a man like you to touch me..."
Even though his mind was agitated by her words, he simply took it as angry rhetoric and went back to trying to tear the net of the dress since untangling it seemed impossible. As he pulled, the fabric ripped with a loud tear.
She screamed at him as if he were a thief, grabbed the torn part with fierce strength, and raised her hand to slap him. He violently intercepted her hand with an overpowering grip.
Almost shouting, he demanded, "What is this? What is this? What is wrong with you?"
She struggled repeatedly to free her slapping hand to no avail, crying, "What is wrong with me? You just tore my shirt! What if you rape me?"
He gasped, "What?! Why would you say that?"
"Did I say it? What about your wife?" she shot back. "She said you never slept with her normally, so why wouldn't I think you'd try to rape me after tearing my shirt?"
He shoved her away from his body and lashed out with a vicious wave of his hand, making her stumble and barely catch herself against the wall in sheer terror.
He clenched his fists tightly, biting his lip. For the very first time in his life, he felt like slapping a woman. With fury boiling in his veins, he asked, "Are you mad?"
Weeping, she replied, "No, I am not mad... I'm just losing interest in you."
He asked, "Is that why you are calling me a rapist? In all the time I've spent with you in this house, have I ever tried to rape you?"
Shaking and nodding her head at the same time, she whispered, "I don't know... but you know what you did to me that rainy day. You evil man, may Allah judge you!"
Shaking his head to cut her off, he demanded, "What did I do to you, eh?"
Just as she was about to open her mouth, he cut off her breath by asking: "No, no! I just thought you were trying to help with my fever! My question is: have I ever tried to rape you?"
She replied, "I don't know, but since you did it to Amina, you might do it to me one day."
With a fierce roar, he called out her name so loudly that she startled and slid down to the floor in tears.
He yanked her up in absolute panic, demanding, "Did Amina tell you I'm a rapist? Tell me, Halisa!"
Terrified and angered by his sudden aggressive approach, she defiantly answered, "Yes, yes, yes, yes! I'm not afraid of you. She's the one who told me, and she told me a long time ago. She said you chase after loose women outside, that you mistreat her, and that she only loves you because she saw you—you evil man!"
He pulled her tightly against his body until she lifted her teary eyes to look at him with utter shock. Deep within his eyes, he said, "That is not true! Those are lies Amina made up. The day I heard her telling you that, I confronted her, and she claimed she only told you so you wouldn't feel like you were the only one in distress—she claimed she was doing it to save your mental health and keep our bond. And I have warned her about it before. So, do you seriously think she would let me rape her?"
Her heart pounded violently, especially seeing no trace of falsehood or playfulness in his demeanor; she knew she had driven him to the peak of distress today.
With a trembling voice, she asked, "Is that so? But you are lying to me now. She loves you, she would do anything for you. Why on earth would she lie and frame you if it weren't true?"
In a hollow voice, he said, "Okay, let's call her up right now and I will ask her in front of you so she can repeat it to you, and you can hear for yourself..."
Shaking her head, she said, "No, I won't agree. You just want to deceive me because you know Amina loves you very much and is afraid of you. She would agree to anything you say just to keep you in her life, even if it harms her."
His heart clenched with pain and he lost his footing. "What on earth must I say for you to believe me?"
Looking at him through tearful stubbornness, she asked, "If you want me to believe you, just tell me the truth."
Softly, almost weeping, he asked, "What truth?"
Turning to face him directly so their eyes locked, she asked, "Why are you like this? The things you did to Amina before made me feel like I didn't even know you, but a few days ago when you helped me and my sister, I thought you were a good person. But why are you so unjust to the people who love you? You can't be both good and bad at the same time. Why can't you be real for once in your life?"
With a sudden burst of defiance she had never shown him before, she pushed him away angrily and said, "You make me sick! I never expected you to be this violent. What did she do to you that was so terrible that you had to hit her like that? I am so disappointed in you." With that, she broke down crying harder.
A profound realization of the impact of her words—words carrying a weight he didn't even know he held in her heart—froze him in place, rendering him unable to move or speak.
He caught the hand she was using to beat his chest, his head bowed down. Deep anguish tore through his heart because he had never imagined Halisa cared about him this much, or that she had held onto the blow he gave Meenal all this time.
With a softened body, he supported her as they both stood up, facing each other.
She wept, sniffling softly, while his eyes welled up with tears until they turned completely red. Breathing heavily and laboriously, closing and opening his eyes, he said, "You and I are not the same, Halisa. If I am violent, you are the first woman I would ever raise my hand against in violence in my entire life, simply because you are the first woman audacious enough to raise her hand against my face.
"I know life hasn't been fair to you, but you cannot understand what it feels like to experience the pain of losing your parents, or worse, having your parents and family alive yet separated from you by something beyond your comprehension."
She lowered her gaze slowly, tears streaming down as she listened to the lingering disappointment in his voice.
With blinking eyes and a trembling voice, he continued: "A twist of fate led to a misunderstanding between my father and me before I even fully matured. When I returned to this country, I discovered my father had already gone to the family of the woman I wanted to marry and severed our engagement, operating under the same assumption you have—that I lack proper upbringing and cannot take care of a good woman.
"As if that wasn't enough, your friend Amina targeted me relentlessly with her romance. I wasn't even healed from the sting of the character assassination my father performed on me, because I couldn't bear how you would feel if your father ever bore false witness against you. That girl waited for me for a solid six to seven years until I finished my education, only for me to return and find her married to someone else, not me.
"I was trying to find peace in the tight corner of fixing myself and my family, but Amina made my father reinforce his belief that I wasn't on the right path in life. No matter what I did to make her let go of me, she refused. I'm sure you know this—it's not like I seduced her. So why are you angry at me? Why are you blaming me?
"She tried to kill herself nine times over me, but you only know about her distress. You don't know what that caused me.
"My father's coming and going became unbearable until he called me and said he regretted being my father because Amina's case was dragging his honor and dignity through the mud. All his friends were breathing down his neck, saying he didn't raise me right. I lost my mind—what was my crime just because I said I didn't want to marry Amina? I'm not saying it's wrong for her to love me that way, but I wasn't even ready. The stress was too much for me; all I wanted was to fix my life.
"Every single time the news of Amina's suicide attempts over me spread around our neighborhood and family, I had to watch my mother drown in worry and distress because half the blame was pinned on her. My father, his relatives, our neighbors—everyone.
"It reached a point where my mother felt it was better for me to just marry Amina so my father's mind could finally rest.
"My mother begged me every single day to sacrifice my own life to save Amina's.
"I was in agony, but seeing that I simply had to sacrifice my ego to save my mother's tears, I agreed to the marriage.
"The moment I agreed, Amina started creating scenes over the house we were supposed to live in. I couldn't take it anymore and said I was calling off the wedding. Then you came to my office and slapped me—I'm sure you'll never forget that day. My intention to cancel the wedding grew stronger, but my mother begged me that day while on her knees, and she told me something I will never forget for the rest of my life."
Pausing to swallow the tears pooling in his eyes, he said, "Halisa, don't let anyone deceive you that love is enough to sustain a marriage. I thought that too. I thought if I calmed down, everything would go well. Amina came to my house knowing nothing about married life, and she hated my family. But none of that bothered me because they were the ones who placed her in a position higher than mine.
"My mother, who had shed tears over her just to bring happiness to her own child's life, became the target of Amina's insults and abuse. But do you know what happened after that? My mother is still rooting for her, even despite everything she did to her that day—she never told me to divorce her or throw her out just because she beat her.
"So, what do you want, Halisa? How do you think I am feeling? You think I consider myself so perfect? But no! It is only you who think your friend is perfect!"
She stared down at the tears gathered in his eyes that refused to fall, her body growing utterly still.
In a soft voice, tears falling, she whispered, "I am not judging you..."
Interrupting her, he said, "Yes, you are."
He gently took her hand in his and looked straight into her eyes as cool tears slid down her face.
A bittersweet smile broke through his lips, accompanied by a heavy breath. "Hey, next time, don't try to help me when I'm sick. Even if I'm dying, leave me be. I want you to know that I deeply regret making you feel that whatever happened that night was me, in my right senses, trying to take advantage of your body or rape you.
"I wasn't in my right mind that day; maybe I didn't fully know what I was doing, but you knew what you were doing." He curled his lip. "Well, since I'm the one at fault, fine. I will try my best to talk to my boss about all your complaints, maybe your wish will be granted.
"Whether you agree with me or not, I won't care, because you've already told me what's on your mind about me, right? Okay, think whatever you want. It is your life, you should know better!!"
As he finished speaking, she felt him let go of his grip on her hand and turn toward the door...
Summary
In this emotionally charged scene, Halisa is found crying in her room, tormented by memories of her loving father and tragic childhood. Her solitude is interrupted when Dr. Khaleel enters to check on her, offering water and medication. What begins as a cold medical check-in quickly escalates into a fierce, volatile confrontation.
Halisa attacks Khaleel's character, accusing him of being heartless toward his family—specifically regarding his estranged wife, Amina—and calling him out for hypocrisy and emotional instability. Provoked to his breaking point, Khaleel retaliates, defending himself against her accusations (including a heated misunderstanding regarding past suicide attempts and allegations of attempted assault). As they tearfully trade harsh truths, vulnerabilities are exposed. Khaleel breaks down and reveals the immense pressure, family manipulation, and sacrificial compromises that shaped his cold exterior, leaving Halisa deeply remorseful as she realizes the heavy emotional burdens he has been carrying.
Description
The setting is a dimly lit, tense indoor space—likely a private room or clinic quarters—where raw emotional guard rails completely break down. The atmosphere shifts from suffocating sorrow to high-octane confrontation, marked by physical struggles, tangled clothing, tears, and stark psychological vulnerability. The interaction showcases a complex psychological clash between two guarded individuals who share parallel traumas of familial loss and misplaced expectations, ultimately stripping away their defensive facades to reveal deep-seated pain and unspoken mutual empathy.