A Thousand Splendid Suns

Rasheed himself believed none of this. In his opinion, superstitions
were largely a female preoccupation.
He passed on to her things he had heard on the streets, like how the
American president Richard Nixon had resigned over a scandal.
Mariam, who had never heard of Nixon, or the scandal that had forced
him to resign, did not say anything back. She waited anxiously for
Rasheed to finish talking, to crush his cigarette, and take his leave. Only
when she'd heard him cross the hallway, heard his door open and close,
only then would the metal fist gripping her belly let go-Then one night he
crushed his cigarette and instead of saying good night leaned against the
doorway.
"Are you ever going to unpack that thing?" he said, motioning with his
head toward her suitcase. He crossed his arms. "I figured you might need
some time. But this is absurd. A week's gone and…Well, then, as of
tomorrow morning I expect you to start behaving like a wife. Fahmidi? Is
that understood?"
Mariam's teeth began to chatter.
"I need an answer."
"Yes."
"Good," he said. "What did you think? That this is a hotel? That I'm
some kind of hotelkeeper? Well, it…Oh. Oh.
La illah u ilillah. What did I say about the crying? Mariam. What did I