At one point, Laila ducked and managed to land a punch across his ear, which made him spit a curse and pursue her even more relentlessly.
He caught her, threw her up against the wall, and struck her with the belt again and again,
the buckle slamming against her chest, her shoulder, her raised arms, her fingers, drawing blood wherever it struck.
Mariam lost count of how many times the belt cracked, how many pleading words she cried out to Rasheed,
how many times she circled around the incoherent tangle of teeth and fists and belt,
before she saw fingers clawing at Rasheed's face, chipped nails digging into his jowls and pulling at his hair and scratching his forehead.
How long before she realized, with both shock and relish, that the fingers were hers.
He let go of Laila and turned on her. At first, he looked at her without seeing her, then his eyes narrowed, appraised Mariam with interest.
The look in them shifted from puzzlement to shock, then disapproval, disappointment even, lingering there a moment.
Mariam remembered the first time she had seen his eyes, under the wedding veil, in the mirror, with Jalil looking on,
how their gazes had slid across the glass and met, his indifferent, hers docile, conceding, almost apologetic.
Apologetic. Mariam saw now in those same eyes what a fool she had been. Had she been a deceitful wife? she asked herself.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색