No one knew how much money he had saved, but everyone knew that he was a rich man. He went home and, together with his busybody mother, went to the house of Suad Madani. I didn’t remember her very well, but I know she was very pretty. I do remember my mother talking about the women in that family, and she said they were all headstrong and selfish, and that it was not a good match. He was the type who wanted a doting wife, and this wife would be the type to want control of her life.

“While I don’t agree with its necessity, my daughter is determined to finish her schooling, and I will not force her to marry against her will,” her father told them.

“I have been in America for a long time,” Sameer said with such pomp that Suad’s father laughed. “I know that a woman must be happy on her own for a man and a woman to be happy together. If Suad wants to continue with her studies, she is welcome. There is plenty of money, a community college near to the house I bought where she can take classes, and all my support to do what she wishes. After all, if she is happy so am I.”

I remember Suad’s father pretty well. He was one of those people you always saw who walked heavy and quiet, who kept his thoughts to himself. He made his money—and destroyed his health—by working in the quarries. He, like every other parent, did not wish that life on his children, so he accepted Sameer’s proposal on his daughter’s behalf.

Sameer did not know until later that Suad had cried and screamed and starved herself for three days in protest against her father’s decision. She told him this one evening as they sat next to each other on the sofa, watching their wedding video.

“I would not have married you if I had known you were against it.”

“I know that now,” she told him.

Sameer leaned over and kissed his young bride. He was absolutely in love with her. Everyone told him that love came in time, but he felt it from the first time he saw her with her pale, pale skin and her huge eyes. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear and was so overcome by emotion he almost started to cry.

“I love you too,” she answered.

He picked up her little body and carried her to the bedroom without bothering to turn off the video.

I know these things because he used to confide in my mother, and sometimes I could hear them. It was like he wanted to make sure he was doing everything right.

“I want to be a good husband, Maysoun,” he would say. “Tell me what I need to do.”