“I thought you were above all these little fights,” my husband says, hands folded on his chest.
“And I thought my husband was above betrayal,” I say.
“Come on,” he waves it off tiredly. “You knew from the start that our marriage wouldn’t be based on love.”
“What are you doing, Karim?” Tears well up.
“Ayse, you’re still little and you don’t understand that I have my own needs.”
“Are you suggesting we leave everything as it is?” Karim nods.
“And will you keep dropping by her after work? Or will we have a baby one after the other? Or will she give birth, and we’ll tell everyone it’s our baby?”
Karim twists his face as if I slapped him.
“Not, Ayse. You will be the one to give birth to me,”