It was one of the most serene nights.
The moon was full, high in the heart of the sky and seemingly close to the Earth—as if, on that night, it had decided to defy all laws of nature, deliberately drawing near the Najd plateau to breathe in the sweet air of its desert.
Despite the moon's fullness, the stars were present too. Their beautiful, pearly brilliance filled the page of the sky, as though they wished to bear witness to what would happen tomorrow, precisely at one minute past twelve noon.
A black SUV pulled up before the gate of a villa.
Hashim emerged, holding some bags he had just bought from the store.
He walked a few steps toward his house, a wonderful feeling filling his heart as a cool breeze caressed his tall, well-proportioned frame.
He took out his house key and opened the door.
> "My dear, I've brought what you asked for."
No reply came.
He called again:
> "Can you hear me, Bilqis?!"
The house felt unusually empty, prompting him to wonder about the reason for her absence.
His phone rang.
He looked at the screen—it was her calling.
True love creates something between two people called the aura of the *etheric cord*, which makes the convergence of thoughts and feelings between them possible.
This sometimes explains why we receive a call or message from someone we were thinking about at that very moment.
Bilqis believed in the existence of the etheric cord—and she also believed that, with faith and practice, one could learn to harness this energy and tame it for one's own benefit.
Hashim, however, was the type who listened to such things purely for amusement but didn't believe in them. He often insisted on challenging Bilqis, occasionally mocking her ideas.
This was why he chose not to tell her he'd been thinking about her just before she called. He didn't want her to take it as evidence supporting the existence of the so-called etheric cord.
He pressed the answer button.
Her soft voice, so dear to his heart, came through:
> "Hello, my love. I called to tell you something important."
Then she preempted him, without giving him a chance to ask what it was:
> "Your daughter and I miss you."
> "Are you still insisting you can communicate with her?"
She didn't like the sarcastic tone in his question.
> "Do you think I'm crazy?"
> "Honestly, yes."
> "Most studies say so."
> "Say that you're crazy?"
> "No... they say a mother can sense the baby in her belly. Do you want to know what your daughter is saying too?!"
Overcome by curiosity, he asked:
> "What is she saying?!"
> "She says you're the best father any daughter in this world could have. She also says you are the most beloved thing to her soul and heart, and that you are her chosen role model and her superhero..."
Her imaginative words brought a gentle smile to his face.
Hashim had lost his parents in a car accident when he was young.
His whole life, he had longed to have children who would call him *Daddy*, to see in their eyes the gleam of love… that gleam which his own eyes had lacked his entire life.
So, when Bilqis told him the happy news of her pregnancy—a year after their marriage—he felt an overwhelming joy envelop him, like an oyster shell on the seabed enclosing its pearl.
He felt that this joyous news had fortified him forever against any sorrow that might try to creep into his heart.
Since that day, he had developed a strange habit.
When he lay down beside his wife, he would gently place his hand on her swollen belly.
Bilqis had always thought it a normal gesture… but in reality, it wasn't.
Hashim made that gesture as if he were shaking hands with the baby developing inside her.
He wasn't content with just that imaginary handshake; he would talk to the baby silently all night long, making pacts and vows always to be there—to grant it safety and protection forever.
He would keep talking to it silently until exhaustion overcame him and he finally fell asleep.
---
Hashim walked toward the kitchen.
He put the call on speakerphone and continued his conversation with Bilqis while arranging the groceries he'd brought from the store on the refrigerator shelves.
> "Where are you, fatty? I came home and didn't find you."
> "On the walking track."
> "What are you doing there?"
> "Doing what people usually do on the walking track. Dancing."
His voice rose with laughter.
> "Why are you laughing?"
> "I imagined the sight; it would be funny to see a little elephant dancing in public."
> "Stop making fun of my belly!!"
> "I'm not making fun of you, my dear. I'm just teasing you."
> "Oh, thanks for the clarification."
Still arranging the groceries, he asked:
> "Aren't you supposed to be resting during this period?!"
> "The doctor advised me to walk right up until the last moment... She said it would help ease the delivery... And there's something else she said would make it even easier."
> "What's that?"
> "That your husband doesn't tease you... and tells you sweet things."
> "Are you sure the obstetrician said that?"
> "Yes, I'm sure. Come on, flirt with me, please."
> "Isn't it enough that I pamper you when I sometimes call you 'Bilqoosa'?"
> "I don't know how to tell you this, but that pet name gives me heartburn."
Hashim smiled on the other end of the phone.
Bilqis insisted:
> "Flirt with me, please!!"
> "You know I'm not good at that."
> "Try! Just for once in your life!!"
He held a love for her akin to a prisoner's love for freedom.
But, typical of the conservative society he grew up in and whose traits he absorbed, Hashim felt awkward expressing the depth of his love for his wife—often resorting to humor as an escape.
> "Of all the women, you are the most beautiful little elephant my eyes have ever seen, Bilqoosa."
> "La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah... You're hopeless... hopeless."
> "Didn't you like my attempt?"
> "I wish you had prayed Istikhara before you tried."
In reality, Hashim's life was marked by seriousness and sternness—due to the demanding and harsh nature of his work—and no one but Bilqis could bring a smile to his somber face.
She was an exceptional woman in every way.
Perhaps her uniqueness stemmed from her understanding of the nature of men: that men are like migratory birds; they don't believe in staying fixed in one place. They don't linger long in one woman's nest before boredom creeps into their hearts, prompting them to quickly seek another nest for a new adventure.
Therefore, from the beginning, she made sure she wasn't just a wife to him.
She was his mother, sister, good friend—and partner in crime—encompassing all the relationships the devil might tempt him to seek elsewhere.
> "Did your boss approve your leave?"
> "I thought he was joking at first, but he actually approved it."
Hashim added, expressing his joy:
> "Seven days without facing death every moment, it's unbelievable."
He said this, unaware that Death itself was on the line with them at that moment, listening to their conversation and smiling slyly.
> "Since you have the time off, why don't you come walk with me?!"
> "Right now, there's something else I want to practice," he added. "The sport of sleeping."
> "Come on, trust me, you'll find lots of beautiful girls here."
> "Believe me, no one fills my sight but you."
> "Do you love me that much?"
> "No, it's because you take up so much of my view, you don't give me a chance to see anyone else."
> "I have to hang up now," she said suddenly. "Because I might just miscarry if this call goes on any longer."
She hung up while he was laughing.
---
Bilqis continued walking until fatigue crept up on her, and she sat down on one of the public benches.
She was a woman like the sea: appearing ordinary to those who look from afar, but much deeper than anyone might think.
Some time passed before she noticed the walkway was empty of people and that she was the only one left.
She looked at her phone to check the time, but found it was off.
> "The battery's dead," she whispered to herself. "I must go home, so Hashim doesn't worry."
To return home, she first had to cross the main street.
She stood for a moment on the pavement, looked right and left to make sure the street was clear of cars, then crossed...
But as she was crossing, she didn't notice the car speeding toward her.
The car was driving with its headlights off and at a breakneck speed.
Bilqis wanted to avoid the collision, but she couldn't—hampered by the heaviness of her pregnancy and the car's terrifyingly imminent approach.
She wrapped her arms around her belly.
She squeezed her eyes shut with all her might.
Ready for the end.