Chapter _ 1 Episode _ 2 _"Rania's departure after a love story with Sameh that will not be repeated."

The Story of Naomi and Anas

In a house shrouded in sorrow for years, Sami lived with his wife Rania and their only daughter Naomi. Illness had stolen Rania’s youth and health, confining her to bed, while Naomi became the angel of care—sitting beside her mother all day, administering her medicine, helping her bathe, and preparing her meals, as if the weight of the entire world rested on her small shoulders.

Each evening, Sami returned home, sitting beside Rania, trying to ease her exhaustion after a long day of serving his wife. At night, Naomi took over, ensuring her mother was cared for until midnight, setting his alarm before he slept, letting her heart silently bleed.

Days passed in this relentless cycle, a suffocating routine laced with faint hope that Rania’s condition might improve. Yet time was merciless, and her state remained unchanged, leaving the house filled with endless grief. Silence became heavy on the walls—until that day came, turning everything upside down…

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Scene One

Samah slowly opened the door to the house, stepping inside with a hint of worry in his eyes, carrying paper bags filled with fresh fruit. He turned and closed the door behind him, then carefully placed the bags on the dining table, as if this small gesture could bring some care into the monotony of their days.

He then walked heavily toward the room of his wife, Rania, the sick woman, a faint smile trying to mask the tension of the moment. He reached for the doorknob and opened it, calling softly:

Samah: "Rania…"

But as he drew closer, he froze. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling, her spirit quietly departing from her body, ascending toward the sky. Tears streamed uncontrollably down Samah’s face. He leaned over her and gently closed her eyes, as if this were the last moment to protect her from eternal sorrow.

Turning with heavy steps, he went to his daughter Naomi’s room. He knocked softly. Seconds later, Naomi opened the door to find her father standing before her, tears streaming down his face, grief etched deeply in his features.

Naomi: "Papa… why are you crying?"

Samah pulled her into a tight embrace, murmuring in a trembling voice:

Samah: "Rania… your mother… she’s gone, Naomi…"

Naomi’s eyes widened in shock, and tears immediately poured down her cheeks.

Even after Rania’s death, the atmosphere in the house did not change much; grief still lingered in every corner, pressing down on every breath. Naomi felt an immense emptiness in her life and tried to fill it with any activity. She would leave the house, wander through the markets, pick vegetables, meat, and everything needed for the home, then return to prepare meals—desperately attempting to fill the void that her mother’s death had left in her heart.

Scene Two

On a quiet night, while Naomi lay on her bed wrapped in a warm blanket, Samah stood outside her door, hesitating. His hand reached for the wood, then pulled back, the silence of the night filled with the ticking of the clock and the cold wind from the balcony. After a few moments of inner struggle, he gathered his courage and knocked gently.

Seconds later, Naomi slowly opened the door, still half-asleep, her eyes barely open.

Samah: "The food… it tastes really good. Well done."

Naomi smiled, a little annoyed at being disturbed from sleep, yet she couldn’t hide her laugh:

Naomi: "And who woke me up just to tell me the food tastes good?"

Samah chuckled, and she laughed with him. Then, in a low but serious voice, he said:

Samah: "Honestly… there’s something else I want to tell you."

Naomi: "Go ahead, Dad."

Samah: "No… come sit outside… this is a big story."

Naomi smiled as she rose from her bed:

Naomi: "Okay, I’ll put on something warm; it’s really cold out there."

Samah: "Alright… I’ll make you a cup of tea."

Naomi dressed in her winter clothes and walked to the living room. Samah followed, carrying the tea, placing the cup on the table with a faint smile.

Samah: "Here you go, Miss Naomi."

He pulled back the chair to make room for her to sit. Naomi sat down, and Samah took his seat across from her, his smile tinged with nervousness and hesitation.

Naomi: "So, what’s this story you wanted to tell me, Dad?"

Samah: "Drink the tea first…"

Naomi took a sip of the warm tea, which eased her nerves slightly. Then Samah began cautiously:

Samah: "Honestly… there’s a very respectable woman, very beautiful… just like Rania, may she rest in peace. Same words, same manner, even the same laugh. The moment I saw her, I liked her a lot. I prayed she wasn’t married… I went to her and said, 'I want to marry you.' Thank God, she wasn’t married. So… what do you think about that?"

Naomi smiled faintly, trying to hide her feelings:

Naomi: "I don’t really have an opinion on something like this, Dad… whatever you want, I’ll do."

Samah: "I knew you’d agree… You know I endured a lot with dear Rania… so many years… and since illness took hold of her, and you were only twelve… we were deprived of children and life itself."

Naomi: "Indeed, you endured a lot with Mom… thank you. But what’s the bride’s name?"

Samah: "Her name is Ghada."

Naomi: "Alright, Dad… good night."

Samah: "Finish your tea."

Naomi: "No… you drink it."

Naomi headed back to her room, opened the door, and entered quietly. Her expression showed nothing but rigidity and indifference. She closed the door behind her, leaving Samah in the living room, alone with the night’s silence and the ache in his heart.