Dating : Finally Free

Dina was breathless sitting in the back of the black S-Class that was taking her to the hospital. While she enjoyed driving particularly as it was one of the few freedoms allowed to her, this evening she was grateful she didn’t have to. The rain was sputtering on the windshield and the wipers were barely keeping up, creating an almost hypnotic whooshing sound that allowed her to forget for a moment the journey. However, every time the driver stopped at a light, she was jolted out of her dreamlike state and dragged back to reality.

The hospital Haitham was at looked more like a high-end pension rather than a place where the wealthy went to live or die. Valet parking and a grumpy concierge met family members coming in to visit loved, or not so loved ones. The elevator was small and not very well lit, and as Dina stepped in she was grateful she was the only one, she needed a moment to gather herself in solitude. She knew that in a few moments she would come face to face with a man she spent decades loathing, but now simply pitied. As his health began to rapidly deteriorate, Haitham began signing away his estate to Dina and Dahlia. The two women remember being in the attorney’s office surrounded by files and account numbers they had never heard of, flurries of signatures and numbers left them both utterly disorientated, but also rather wealthy. Not that it made much of a difference, Haitham was wealthy, they merely received what he allowed them to have, they were not accustomed to such freedom. This did of course not amuse the extended family; as they were hoping to get a part of the vast estate they heard rumors of.

The cardiac wing of the hospital was a stark difference to the lobby just a few levels below. The white and slightly faded blue walls lent to a cold and sterile environment. Dina was sure she could smell death, in spite of all the living that surrounded her in the form of colorful and fragrant flowers, laughing children and quietly chatting adults.

There were no flowers or laughter in Haitham’s room. Even Dahlia didn’t take time out of her schedule to visit. The only sounds being made were coming from the various monitors helping to keep Haitham alive. It was a bit of poetic justice that the man with a cruel, cold heart had suffered a massive heart attack. Dina contemplated this as she quietly walked over to his bed. She had grown so accustomed to tiptoeing around him that she caught herself doing it yet again, perhaps for the last time.

She sat down next to his bed and studied his face carefully. He looked like he weighed no more than 50 kilos, his eyes looked sunken into their sockets and his already prominent cheekbones appeared to jut out of the sides of his face due to the weight loss, this made his nose look more prominent and hooked. His skin was ashen, and if not for the beeping of the monitors to confirm life, and the pained rising and falling of his chest, he could just as easily have been lying in a morgue. His once lush jet-black hair had now gone completely white, not even the nice “salt and pepper”, but a glaring white. This once fiery man, seemingly made of steel, was reduced to a helpless and pathetic creature.

Dina gently placed her delicately manicured hands on his; they felt almost scaly to the touch. He stirred and opened his eyes, giving her a pained smile. She always thought that his face was one that was simply not made to smile; there was something about it that looked so utterly unnatural, that was even more so the case now.

“I’m so sorry Dina, please forgive me for everything,” his voice barely a raspy whisper.

“Sorry”, she thought quietly to herself. It was almost sincere to her in that moment. Maybe it was, maybe this was a dying man seeking forgiveness. Or maybe it was the same old Haitham.

“I didn’t know how to love you, I only know control”, he continued with his excuses as if he heard her thoughts in that moment. “It was what Mama taught me, may God forgive her”, he finished.

There it was, typical of Haitham, never taking responsibility for his actions, always laying blame on someone else. How could Dina expect anything different now? Normally this would have infuriated her, and she would keep her thoughts to herself, she merely looked at him and smiled, appearing to acknowledge his pitiful apology. As if these words could simply erase the years of abuse and neglect she endured at the hands of this now wretched man lying before her.

She wondered if Haitham was watching his life flash before his eyes, that old cliché about someone who is having a near death experience or is ready to pass away. But she was having her own moment, her own “death” experience. In this instant, with his imminent passing she was reborn, and the gilded cage door had been flung open.

Suddenly, Dina found her voice. The voice that had been pushed so far down into the depths of her being that she thought she would never hear it again, one that spoke with confidence, and clarity, strong and opinionated. It was a voice that Haitham had managed to crush, almost.

“Haitham, do you remember Saif?” she asked almost innocently, as if completely unaware what kind of reaction that name would elicit.

“Dina…” he whispered

The monitors began beeping and a faster pace, Haitham said something unintelligible and closed his eyes. Dina stood up and walked towards the door, seemingly unaffected by this, she was met by a doctor and nurses rushing in with a crash cart. She walked out of the room and headed towards the elevator door, never looking back.