His phone kept checking again and again and vibrating faster. He said, “ neighbor, don’t worry, I’ll be back soon — I won’t be long,” and hurried out.

I watched him with my eyes until he left the house and I heard the lift door close. I tidied up and picked up the slippers I had left in the middle of the carpet in the parlor, and looked at the dinner I had spent a long time preparing — all to please him even though my stomach was empty. I forced myself to eat because when he returns we usually eat together like we always do. But when he came back he took a bath and left the house again saying he was going to look for his cousin.

He has been doing this to me for two days now.

I sat there feeling low and quietly resentful. I thought that if I kept living like this without eating I would harm myself, so I put the food back and started to eat.

I didn’t eat much. I covered the rest and pulled out my phone to start chatting — anything to lessen the loneliness and frustration of Mahfuz leaving me alone in the house like a fool.

Mahfuz didn’t return until around ten at night. By then my sorrow had reached its peak and I was trembling. When he came in and greeted me I answered quietly. He smiled and said, “Sorry about that, I was taking someone to a place — I didn’t think it would take so long. Please forgive me, my dear.”

I don’t know why I can’t stay angry with Mahfuz for long. His smiles and the way he speaks make me calm down.

He opened the bag he had brought and said, “Look at the treats I brought you.”

When I peeked quickly into the bag I saw milk candy and gulisuwa (sweets), and my face lit up because I love anything with milk.

After I started sucking the milk candy I looked at Mahfuz sitting on the carpet pressing his phone.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked.

“By God, cousin forced me to eat at his place, but heat it up for me tomorrow before I leave,” he said.

“You won’t even take one spoonful? I cooked it for you.”

“I already told you — tomorrow. I’m full now.”

I didn’t want to ask more and continued sucking my candy. He also stood up, legs crossed at the knees, pressing his phone with a little smile.

I stared at him, thinking about the changes I’ve noticed lately. Mahfuz is not the type to chat much; usually I push him to chat because I send him WhatsApp messages so when he gets home and his phone rings he doesn’t keep tapping — instead he talks a lot, tells me stories. If I take my phone he snatches it and tells me to stop pressing it so we can talk. But recently even at dawn I see him pressing his phone. I never suspected him before; knowing each other as we do, and we haven’t been married long — it’s two years now and by God I’m pregnant — I wouldn’t have guessed this.

“What are you doing on the phone that makes you smile like that?” I asked.