All Chapters of NELLIE AND NAOMI : Chapter 121 - Chapter 129

Literary English Translation:As for Nelly, she walked back toward the chalet, her feet sinking into the beach sand, her gaze fixed downward, anxiety clearly etched into her movements. When she reached the chalet, Adel was sitting outside on the sofa in front of it, drinking wine. Confusion and tension clouded his features after Naomi’s phone call. Nelly sat beside him without uttering a single word. She reached out, took the wine bottle from his hand, raised it to her lips, took a sip, and lifted her eyes toward the sky.Adel said, “Do you want to go back home?”“Tonight?” Nelly asked.“No,” Adel replied. “Tomorrow.”“All right,” Nelly said. “We’ll leave.”She took another sip from the bottle, handed it back to Adel, then stood up, walked to the chalet door, opened it, went inside, and closed it behind her.Adel drank from the bottle and muttered, “Your behavior is like that of a venomous snake, Nelly—betraying with absolute confidence, hiding your infidelity behind your beauty and s

At the company, Adel sat behind his desk.Heba opened the office door and stepped inside, stopping in front of him.“Good morning, Mr. Adel,” she said.“Good morning, Heba.”“I have important news.”“Please, sit down.”Heba took the chair opposite him and said, “After the lawyer’s investigations, he confirmed that Naomi is still legally your wife. Your status is lawful—husband and wife. However, when he searched Naomi’s records, he also found that she is registered as the wife of another man named Adham. Legally, she is married to two men at the same time. You can file a case against Naomi and have her imprisoned if you wish.”In the bedroom, Adham sat on a chair beside a small table. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to Naomi, who was lying on the bed. Naomi shifted, lying on her stomach, and reached out to take the glass, smiling as she looked into his eyes.Adham poured himself a second glass, lifted it, and said, “To your health, Naomi.”She smiled. “To your health.”Adham t

Between Treatment and the Postponement of the EndTreatment… or a Delay of DeathOn a cold morning, Naomi entered the hospital feeling as though the air was breathing her in, not the other way around—heavy air, laden with expectations and the weight of illness.The place was not frightening, but it was honest—more honest than one could bear.The corridors were clean, the faces calm, the machines humming in an orderly silence.Everything suggested that miracles were not made here; probabilities were managed.Naomi stood before the glass window of the room, looking outside, and said in a quietly aching voice:“Is this treatment, Adam… or merely a postponement of death?”He did not answer at once.He knew that any word he might offer would be incomplete, or false, or unbearably cruel. He himself felt the burden of expectations circling his mind with every glance at a machine, every look into a doctor’s eyes.He stepped closer, took her hand, and said:“I will hold on to you. I never lear

In the evening, Adham and Naomi stepped out to walk slowly along the street. Walking was not easy for Naomi; exhaustion was clearly visible on her, growing heavier day after day as the illness tightened its grip. Yet she wanted to feel like an ordinary woman—not a patient, not a rare case in a medical file. She insisted on appearing strong, normal.She stopped in front of a shop window. Her reflection appeared in the glass—pale, yet still beautiful, like a moon worn down by illness but refusing to surrender its name as a moon.She suddenly said, “You know, Adham? Here, I feel that I am still alive… truly alive. In our last days in Egypt, I felt as though I had already left life behind. Listening to the doctors—each one whispering in his own way that there was no hope of recovery, that today might be the last day for Mrs. Naomi…”Naomi burst into laughter, mocking what she had heard from the doctors.Adham laughed with her.He stopped, looked at her for a long moment, then said, “You a

Evening descended over Paris with deliberate slowness,and the Seine flowed as it always had—indifferent to human sorrow, to their ages, their colors, their identities—a silent witness only to the emotions of lovers along its banks.They sat by the river, Naomi and Adham, close to the water,far from the noise,as if the city itself had decided to grant them more time for farewell,as if time had paused to gift them a few minutes of pure love.They remained silent, watching the trembling reflections of light on the river’s surface.Naomi pulled her coat tighter around her frail body.Then suddenly she spoke, her eyes fixed on the waters of the Seine,without turning toward him:“Adham… I’m not afraid of death.I’m afraid of leaving you.I love you so much.I’m afraid for you after I’m gone—as if I were leaving behind a child, alone after my death.”He nodded in silence.He turned toward her, his gaze taut, his heart racing ahead of his words, and said:“I can’t imagine my life with