And everything inside... from the furniture... to the appliances... to the bills... is all in my name."
Rami started to get nervous:
"What about us? Where are we going to live?!"
"It's none of my business."
Basma screamed:
"Are you kicking us out?!"
"I'm protecting myself."
A second of silence... then Israa said in a dangerously calm voice:
"There's an envelope under the door... open it."
Rami quickly bent down, took the envelope and opened it with a shaking hand...
inside were three documents:
a receipt for 48,000 Egyptian pounds deducted from their account to the bank (a refund).
A legal notice of divorce for damages.
And a general power of attorney... registered in his name... but revoked.
Rami gasped:
"What?! You took the money?!"
"My money... it's back."
Madiha lost patience:
"You're ungrateful! We're the ones who..."
"What?
You abandoned me?" "I'm dead?
Or did you take pictures on the beach and laugh?"
Basma looked at Rami fearfully:
"Did he find out about the photos?!"
"Yes...
everything gets posted online... it goes unnoticed."
For the first time, Rami felt the game slipping out of his control.
"Okay... the baby? Where is my son?!"
There... Israa paused.
Then her voice became calmer... but firmer:
"Your son was born... without you.
And on his birth certificate... it's my name."
Madiha gasped:
"How is that possible?!"
"Just like you decided you didn't want to be here... I decided the same thing."
Rami knocked on the door angrily:
"Israa, open up! This is my son!"
"My son... the one I would have died alone for."
And then...
the camera went off.
The green light disappeared.
They stood there in front of a closed door... And life enveloped them.
—
That night... they had nowhere to go.
They went to a hotel... but were denied entry without a deposit.
The card? Refused.
The money? Withdrawn.
Madiha had to call her relatives...
but the response was cold... as always.
"I'm sorry, Madiha... circumstances."
Rami sat on the sidewalk... for the first time in his life... without a solution.
—
A day passed... then two... then three...
Israa didn't show up.
She didn't answer.
But on the fourth day…
Rami received a letter.
Addressed to him.
He opened it quickly…
inside was a photo.
Israa… holding her son… on a balcony… the sun on her… and her face strangely serene.
Under the photo was written:
"I thought love was security…
apparently security is being self-sufficient."
And enclosed…
a decree. A preliminary step: give her power in the apartment… and prevent any harassment.
Rami dropped the letter…
his hand shaking…
he hadn't just lost the house.
He'd lost control.
He'd lost his money.
He'd lost his self-esteem.
But what hurt most…
was losing her… and she hadn't even tried to win him back.
—
A month later…
Israa was sitting in the same house…
but she wasn't the same person.
She was holding her son… laughing at him…
and the house was silent
… no orders…
no humiliation…
no fear.
Marwa came in and said,
"They're very sorry… and they're trying to contact you."
Israa looked at her son… and smiled:
"He who abandons you in the most difficult moment… can't come back in the easiest."
—
Outside...
Rami was standing far away... looking at the balcony...
he saw her... she saw him.
Seconds passed...
he could have said a word...
forgiveness...
return...
but he only did one thing:
he closed the curtain.
—
The End 🔥
My mother-in-law, nine months pregnant, looked at my belly and said to my husband, "Lock the door and let her give birth alone." A week later, they returned from vacation, but a nasty surprise awaited them! The first contraction made me collapse on the couch, just as my mother-in-law was packing the last suitcase. Without even looking at me, she said coldly, "Don't ruin our trip with your antics." My name is Israa, and I was in the last day of my ninth month. The trip my husband, Rami, his mother, Madiha, and his sister, Basma, were about to take to the coast that same day had been paid for with my money. I had paid for the tickets. I had booked the hotel. I had even let them use my credit card for food, outings, and everything else. As always, in the end, it all fell on my shoulders. I called for help, but no one moved. Rami was standing there, wearing a dress shirt and an expensive watch, as if he were going on a picnic... but he wasn't. He had left his wife in labor!
