Alexandria, Egypt, December 15, 2009, 8:30 pm.

It was a lovely evening. Nadine and Adam were at her favorite restaurant for dinner. “How was your day?” Adam asked, smiling. He kissed the back of her left hand. She slid her hand across his smooth, shaved face; she despised it when he shaved his beard. Adam had an uneven, thin beard that gave him the appearance of a teenage boy, but she wanted him to grow it. She never told him that having facial hair was preferable to having none.

She didn’t care enough.

Adam was a tall, thin man with fair skin that turned reddish most of the time and silky chestnut-colored hair that he ran his fingers through every two minutes. He didn’t entice her; he was the kind of safe, comfortable love that made her smile every now and then but wasn’t passionate. She never admitted to anyone, including herself, that her heart does not belong to him, and it never has. She moved her hand away from him and gazed deeply into his brown eyes. “Long boring day, as usual, and yours?” she asked, her dimples deep on both her cheeks.

The night passed quietly. They got coffee after leaving the restaurant and headed to Adam’s car. Adam drove them to their favorite café, which took them ten minutes to reach. While Nadine waited in the car, Adam got out of the car to order. He had left his phone, which was still making noises. Someone was sending him a flood of messages.

Nadine couldn’t stand the constant ringing of the phone, so she took it to turn the volume down, only to discover that Adam’s sister was the one sending the messages. She knew his sister wouldn’t send anything because she was preoccupied with her three-year-old triplets.

Nadine looked around the café. He won’t get mad, she thought. When she opened the most recent message, her expression changed; she appeared devastated. Nadine took a deep breath and looked out the café window, where Adam was waiting for his turn.

Adam returned twenty minutes later with two cups of coffee. “God! the whole place is packed,” Adam said, not looking at Nadine. She was on the phone, speaking sternly.

“Are you getting close to the house? good, just give them to Camellia, no one else,” she said as she hung up the phone, then glared at Adam.

“Are you okay?” he inquired, feeling the tension from her abrupt harsh look.

“Yes,” Nadine replied, looking out the window next to her. “I’m fine.”

“Okay... are we going home?”

“No, to Camellia’s,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Adam nodded and began driving. He kept talking all the way to Camellia’s house, where her parents were hosting a gathering of family and friends to celebrate the opening of their new hospital. Nadine felt a rush of rage in her body. Every time he held her hand, she glared at it. His gaze fixed on the road. He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

When her phone rang with Camellia’s name on its screen, Nadine was distracted by her thoughts. “Nadine! what happened?” Camellia said it loudly, almost shouting. Adam turned to face Nadine, who forced a smile and turned down the phone volume.

“I’m going to tell you everything, just do what she told you,” Nadine stated calmly. Adam fixed his gaze on her. “It’s a wonderful surprise.”

Twenty minutes before, at Camellia’s house.

Camellia was drinking water in the kitchen when her mother and aunt entered. “The food was fantastic,” Pakinam remarked.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Layla said, known for her love of cooking and always cooking without the help of the maids or Camellia when there was a gathering at her house. “However, I’d like to see you cook one day.”

“Keep wishing, honey; I’m not going to ruin my beautiful hands in the kitchen.” Camellia chuckled at her aunt’s reaction; Nadine’s mother, Pakinam, was not a fan of cooking; she had an outgoing, self-centered personality. She was more concerned with her social standing than with anything else.

Camellia’s phone kept vibrating. When she looked at it, she noticed the voice messages from Nadine. She walked out of the kitchen and into the garden to listen to them. “Lena is on her way to your house, Camellia. I want you to take a letter from her and don’t let anyone see her.” — “Call me when you get it,” Nadine said, her voice shaking.

Camellia was perplexed, but she phoned Lena’s number to find out where she was. “Lena where are you?” she asked after Lena answered the phone.

“I’ll be right there. what exactly is going on? why did she request this letter from me?” Lena appeared surprised. “She called me, and her voice was strange, and she told me to write a letter of termination for Adam, and the letter was bizarre” — in the background, the sound of a car door closing — “I’m outside, could you come out now, she wants me to give it to you in person.”

Adam began working for Nadine’s family corporation the day they graduated. Both were engaged and planning to marry. Camellia pushed open the door, revealing Lena on the other side, clutching the letter.

She tried to persuade Lena to come in for a cup of tea, but she politely declined because she had left her friends, who were about to go to the movies. Lena handed Camellia the letter before returning to her car and driving away.

Layla was leaving the kitchen when she met Camellia halfway. Camellia’s gaze shifted between the letter and her mother, who noticed her perplexity. “Who came?” Layla asked.

“It was Lena, she needed her to get some work papers,” Camellia explained.

“This girl is becoming a workaholic like her father,” Layla said as she walked into another room.

Camellia examined her mother’s moving body before opening the letter when Layla was not nearby. “Shit! She’s really firing him” — she went upstairs to her room, took her phone from her jeans back pocket, and called Nadine to find out what was going on — “Nadine! what happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything, just do what she told you,” Nadine said calmly before cutting the call, leaving Camellia even more confused.

“What?!” Camellia said, looking at the phone.