he had gone through the hours without really experiencing them, as if everything that was happening around her was only a distant shadow, a reality that she no

h. Marriage, such a foreign concept, seemed even more unreal when she thought of Amjad. She had nothing again

l froze. He was even more impressive in person. He wore a dark suit, a perfectly fitted black shirt, and his brown hair was neatly styled, contrastin

er spine. He wasn't the type to smile or try to be pleasant. His gaze seemed neither benevolent nor hostile, just... indiffere

ce. He had an accent, but his words were clear, each o

ond, caught between the desire to flee and the fear of showing herself even weake

nt. A heavy silence settles in the room, amplifying the tension that weighed on the

ith some solemnity. "This marriage is not a mere forma

s a man of calculation, a strategist, and he expressed this clearly in every gesture he made. Amal feels a little lost under this inscrutable gaze. H

she makes. Amal remained frozen, her body tense, unable to react other than through

mpassion, but he didn't seem to intend to humiliate her. Rather, he was stating a fact,

sy for me? » she said, almost without meaning to. "Do you think I'm ready for... this? » She stop

arching for something in her features. Then, a slight movement o

tone dry. "It's not about easy. It's a que

ust a simple piece in a chess game, a value to be moved according to the needs of the moment.

suppressed anger. "Your marriage to me is just a formality for you. Y

hat you feel makes no difference to the situation," he replied

he spoke pinned her further to a destiny that she did not understand. She wanted to scream, to tell him that she was not something to be traded, a commodity that could be so

nce and resignation. "Very well," she said, her voice broken but determined.

in an almost imperceptible voice, he replied, "I don't expect you

emptiness seizing her heart. This marriage was nothing more than a burden that she would carry, without hope or