To Love is Illegal
Needless to say, they ended up meeting less in public and more at the apartment they started seeing as their respite from the realities of the desert. Their only concern was Layla’s roommate, Janine, who luckily spent most of her time at her fiancé’s compound, which was on the other side of the city. She wasn’t particularly fond of Layla as she was homophobic and knew Layla liked women, and they knew that if she found out it did not bode well for them.
For weeks, they managed to keep their love hidden from the rest of the world. They felt they couldn’t tell anyone about their relationship, not even their closest friends but they knew it wouldn’t be long before people started realizing they were both absent from the same events.
Despite the risk, they continued seeing each other, and for weeks they managed to keep their love hidden from the rest of the world. But as their love grew more intense, so did their fears. They both knew that they couldn’t keep this up forever and would eventually be caught. Yet every time they came together, with the intention of discussing an end to their trysts, they would look into each other’s eyes, and as if they had no will over their bodies, they would fall into a clutching, steamy embrace that left them both panting. As if they wanted to absorb each other, they spent hours exploring skin and desire, until they inevitably lay in each other’s arms, hair damp and bodies tired.
One night, after a particularly passionate evening together, Amira made a mistake. She accidentally left her phone at Layla’s apartment. She didn’t realize it until she got home and panicked. Her phone contained messages between her and Layla that could incriminate them both if it fell into the wrong hands.
She called Layla from her laptop, frantic, and begged her to check for her phone, to make sure that it was secure. But it was too late. Layla’s roommate had found the phone and had read the messages. She had confronted Layla about their relationship and threatened to contact the authorities as, in her words, “I find what you’re doing abhorrent, and have no interest in being involved in this sordid affair.”
Luckily, or not, she contacted Rami, who she knew from the Riyadh ex-pat circles, instead. Rami was furious, and when he invited both Amira and Layla to his house on the DQ (one of the few places men and women could fraternize freely together), they knew they were in trouble.