by Holly Rayner
Tariq looked handsome as ever, his five-o-clock shadow now becoming more apparent, and adding to his sexiness. Emily was never normally a fan of facial hair on men, but on Tariq it looked rugged, masculine. She felt an uncontrollable urge to kiss him, butterflies swirling all throughout her stomach.
The couple sat back in their seats on the bus and listened to the chatter from the other patrons about how amazing the palace was and how sad a tale it was that a man could love wealth more than his family.
“So,” Emily finally spoke up. “Finish your story. We were just getting to the really harrowing parts.”
“Lucky me,” he quipped. “What’s left to tell?”
“Um,” she whispered. “Everything? Like, why are you like Aashiq? Why are you so hollow, if you never actually married that girl?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t say I am hollow. What I should have said was that his story was my worst nightmare. So, I moved to the States, built this business. I was making money and feeling great, and then I went home for a visit, thinking my parents would be proud of me. Hoping they’d accept my path in life.”
“And?”
“And all throughout dinner all I heard about was this woman I had been engaged to… and her life sounded amazing. She ended up getting married; she has three children and a wonderful home. She travels. She has everything I ever wanted.”
“But you didn’t want her,” Emily said, puzzled.
“What I wanted was money.” He shrugged. “Simple as that, as awful as it sounds. I chose money over a woman who could have been a perfect match for me. Something old Aashiq and I have in common.”
“Ah,” she said with a curt nod.
Their conversation seemed to dwindle slightly after that, and Emily felt guilty for bringing up old wounds. Being back in Al Dirhan was probably raising all sorts of old emotions in Tariq, and here she was prodding at his painful family secrets. If anyone understood having a tense relationship with family, it was Emily. Then she remembered that she wasn’t the one who brought it up at all—he was.
The next stop took an hour or so to get to, which was plenty of time for Emily to sit back and appreciate the bus’s air-conditioning. At first sight, the next stop was much less impressive than the grand palace; a small stone mass with a staircase leading underground was all that greeted them when they stepped off the bus. There was a modest sign outside of the building, but Emily couldn’t even pretend to read what it said.
“Another of Tariq’s masterfully planned tourist destinations?” she grinned as her date once again clasped her hand in his and began leading her down the staircase.
“Mmhm…”
“Which is, what?”
He smiled. “Guess.”
“Okay, here’s what I’ve been thinking,” she began enthusiastically. “Not only are you taking me on a tour of the most historic places in Al Dirhan, you’re also taking me on an emotional rollercoaster. So, I’m guessing since the last place was a little sad, this place is going to tickle my romantic funny bone.”
“Close,” he nodded, putting his hands over her eyes and leading her farther down the staircase. “Very close.”
Emily allowed the handsome Sheikh to lead her down the staircase, blindfolded by his hand. He held her there as the rest of the patrons passed them by, saying he wanted to wait for them to have some time alone without the other tourists around. She waited patiently and felt only a handful of people passing by.
Come to think of it, not a lot of people were rushing to get off the tour bus.
Finally, Tariq moved his hand and told her to open her eyes.
“It’s a tomb,” she said flatly.
“A catacomb,” he corrected.
“So by ‘very close’ you actually meant to say ‘Emily, you gorgeous creature, you are dead wrong. Instead, here’s a spooky gravesite, even though I definitely just showed you one lonely man’s tomb already’.”
Tariq grinned. “I love the embellishments and your impression of my voice. It’s striking. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so refined.”
“So, what’s the story here?” she asked as she began to traipse the catacomb with slow, hesitant steps.
“Um, I didn’t think there needed to be much of a story. This is a catacomb. It’s a subterranean passageway usually used as a burial place. But I tell you what, since I did my fair share of, well, sharing, in the last stop, how about you share something with me?”
“I already told you my tidbit about the food thing,” she said, feeling suddenly bashful.
“And that was definitely a gem, but I’d love to delve a little deeper, if possible.”
She stared at the walls of stone that coldly encased them; creating an invisible force that made her feel crushed even within an open space. She looked around the wild collection of bones and began to wonder who these people had been. What story could possibly lead someone to be buried in a mass grave beneath the earth; or was it an honor to be rested there?
Death was something that had shrouded her mind for months now, ever since her mother’s bout with her illness. It was as though, in that very moment, everything changed.
Emily had heard the phrase used in books and movies in the past, but she’d never truly understood those life-changing moments until just a few months ago, when her whole world had been turned upside down. In that second, she’d realized that everything she’d ever felt toward her mother, every hurt feeling and moment of resentment, was all worthless. Nothing was worth losing her.
In the months since, the two of them had gotten much closer, and Emily had started to feel facets of her personality come out that she’d never known were there before. Suddenly she needed to know everything from her mother; every piece of advice she could possibly muster. She asked her mother about men, work, dating, self-care, cooking. Anything that could help her later in life, she needed to know from her mother, before she lost her chance.
“I had a really bad relationship with my parents,” Emily said finally, her fingers skimming the walls of the catacomb. She knew she probably shouldn’t be touching anything, but she couldn’t help feeling suddenly connected to the room.
“Just another thing we have in common,” he responded.
“My mom left my dad,” she said quietly. “One day it was ‘I love you’ and the next we literally skipped a state to get away from him.”
“Ah,” he nodded slowly. “Sounds familiar.”
Emily cringed inwardly. She hadn’t meant to draw a line between her parents’ breakup and Tariq leaving his fiancée. She bit her lip. “Not really. I mean, my parents had a child together. They were already married. You didn’t want to get married, and you didn’t trick your fiancée into marrying you just to bail later.”
“I suppose that’s true.” He set his jaw and stared at her. “So why did your mom leave? Infidelity?”
“I always thought so. Turns out, they just fell out of love with one another. They fought all the time; about money, about everything, really. I didn’t see it then, but it was probably for the best that they split up. Happier now, and all that.”
“Do they get along now?”
Emily made an exaggerated laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “No. No, no, no. Definitely not. But, they both moved on. My dad remarried. Mom is, well, she was sick for a while.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, and you know what’s weird? In that moment I just… It was like everything fell away.”
“Sometimes the direst situations reveal the true desires of the heart.”
She blinked and looked Tariq over, spinning on her heel to get a good look at him. “Which would be what, in my case?”
“Well, you said you don’t date much.” He shrugged. “Maybe you were looking for a different kind of love.”
“My mother’s?”
“Why not? Parental love is important. How can you trust someone romantically when you don’t even feel like your own flesh
and blood is unconditionally there for you?”
She thought on that for a few moments before pursing her lips and nodding in agreement. “Good one, Freud. Thanks for the psychoanalyzing.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, I’m serious. To begin with, the doctors didn’t know what was wrong. We were freaking out. They did all of these expensive tests and…” Emily could feel herself sharing too much. She clenched her teeth together and looked away from Tariq, pretending to explore the tombs with interest. “Anyway, it turns out it was appendicitis. Life-threatening, but brief, thank goodness. She’s okay now, but it was a rough one for a while there.”
“I’m glad everything turned out okay, Emily.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. Then she walked back over to the man who had taken her on a tour of his life and whispered, “Thanks.”
After leaving the catacombs, Tariq called his personal car to come and pick them up so they wouldn’t have to wait for the bus. After a sumptuous late lunch at the Sheikh’s favorite local restaurant, the two of them made their way down to the shores of The Waking Sea—the beautiful waters they had glimpsed from the balcony of the Wasim House.
Unlike the rest of the stops during the day, this one had no hype, no tourists, and no grand buildings to stand in awe of. The only thing there to entertain them was nature itself. The water rushed to shore in deep blue waves and a sound so peaceful she could feel her whole body relaxing just hearing it.
Tariq sat down in the sand and invited Emily to join him. The two of them sat there, watching the crystal waters and taking in the sights and scent of the beach for a while before leaning back to lay in the sand and stare up at the setting sun. Hues of orange and pink littered the sky with colors that seemed to blend and swirl together, like splattered colors on an artist’s palette.
Emily had never seen a sunset so beautiful in all her life. Yet, even with such a breathtaking scene in front of her, she still couldn’t help but focus her sights on Tariq. She turned her head on the sand, getting a better look at him. He was watching the sky, his beautiful jaw looking even sexier in the changing light of the sunset. Finally, he noticed her staring.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she repeated. “What a wonderful day.”
“You, are wonderful,” he corrected. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, do you know that?”
Emily’s face filled with its usual pink flush and she looked back up at the sky, suddenly self-conscious. Her eyes were blue-green in color, crystal clear with a darker blue, wavy design surrounding the pupil. A deep ocean, her mother used to say.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You don’t take compliments well,” he mused.
She shrugged, sand nestling into her neck as she did so. The feeling was warm and comfortable in a strange way, like she was that much more connected to the earth around her. She wasn’t usually like this—she was never the girl to lay in the sand or dig in the dirt. Too much hassle on laundry day.
“Can I ask you something and hope it won’t have you heading for the hills?” Tariq asked, almost bashfully.
“Sure.”
“We only have a few hours left in my hometown and I was hoping—if it doesn’t seem too forward—maybe you would meet my parents for dinner?”
Emily nearly squealed with delight; she wasn’t alone in her feelings toward the Sheikh. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something at the very core of her being felt strangely tied to this man—attracted in a profound way, both mentally and physically. She felt another wave of heat rush through her face and she could no longer hide her grin.
“Can I take that beautiful smile as a yes?”
“Yes, of course!” she said happily. “Are they, I mean will they… like me?”
“What’s not to like?” He winked. “Shall we?”
Chapter 9
It had taken around an hour to arrive at Tariq’s house from the beach, giving Emily plenty of time to try to brush the sand out of her hair and fix her makeup in the car mirror. She was so excited about Tariq’s newly revealed feelings toward her that she almost forgot to be nervous about her appearance in front of his parents.
Before long, the car pulled up at a modestly upper-class residence in a well-to-do neighborhood. For oil tycoons, the family tried to keep a simple lifestyle, Tariq explained. The driveway lead to a large white home with beautiful bay windows and pillars by the door that accented a lovely front porch.
Tariq and Emily walked up to the front door hand in hand, and Emily noticed Tariq’s grip tighten as his father answered the front door.
He was dressed in a long, brightly colored garb, had beautiful tan skin with few wrinkles, and a round face that his son obviously did not inherit from him. He had a welcoming smile and his eyes immediately brightened when he caught sight of Emily.
“Hello, hello, welcome!” he shouted, his deep voice jovial as he took Emily by the hands and brought her inside, leaving Tariq standing slack-jawed on the front porch. “Nuray! Nuray!” he called, still holding onto Emily’s hands as he led her through the house.
Emily could hear Tariq trailing behind her letting out breaths of embarrassment as he tried to catch up with them.
The house was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. Smooth walls and comfortable looking furniture decorated the rooms, along with endless photos of Tariq as a young boy. Emily marveled at them as she passed and turned around to offer Tariq devilish, teasing glances.
“Nuray, come quick, Tariq’s brought a girl home!”
Tariq smacked his forehead and blushed. He shook his head helplessly at Emily and sighed. “He’s talking to my mother,” he whispered.
“I figured,” she whispered back.
Tariq’s father, Nazeer, led her right into their brightly colored kitchen. Purples, oranges, and blues made a striking appearance in the kitchen tiling. The whole house was playful and bright in color. The couches were rounded and a deep blue with purple pillows; the kitchen table had an intricately woven lime green tablecloth covering it. The atmosphere from their house alone immediately endeared Emily to her date’s family.
Nuray, Tariq’s mother, was a beautiful woman. She looked to be in her early fifties, with big, expressive brown eyes and long black hair that was braided to the side. She wore a deep maroon dress and an orange shawl with carefully sewn florals in it. The shawl bounced to the side as she ran to Emily and grabbed her hands away from Nazeer’s.
“Tariq!” she squealed, looking at her son. “Tariq, who is this, my son?” She batted a hand at him when he didn’t immediately answer and cupped Emily’s face in her hands as though inspecting her. She smiled at the girl and looked at her husband before announcing, “She’s perfect! Look at her, Nazeer, isn’t she perfect?”
“Not as perfect as you dear,” he said with a tinge of humor in his tone. “Yes, she is perfect,” he finally agreed. “Forgive us,” he laughed. “I am Nazeer and this is my breathtaking wife, Nuray. Wouldn’t you say she’s breathtaking?”
Emily giggled nervously and began to nod. “Exceptionally,” she agreed.
Nuray’s eyes widened and she looked to Tariq with a motherly nod. “Oh Tariq,” she said, her voice full of charm, “we like her.”
“Mother, father!” Tariq started. “Let’s be civil, shall we? You haven’t even heard the poor girls name yet and you’re already jumping all over her.”
“It’s Emily,” she said quietly, tilting her head to the side as she did. She certainly saw where Tariq got his attentive side from. She’d been in his family’s home for less than five minutes and she already felt spoiled.
“Stay for dinner,” Nuray insisted, looking back to Tariq for some sort of approval. “You are staying for dinner, aren’t you?”
“We’re only staying until tomorrow,” Tariq said. His smile read one way, but his tone read another. Emily could tell there was still some unspoken tension between the Sheikh and his parents. Perh
aps they’d never really spoken about their disappointments, she surmised, or maybe it was Tariq who felt guilty about being around them.
Regardless of their family history, Nuray continued to stare at her son curiously, expecting an answer to her question. Emily’s stomach grumbled quietly; she could smell something heavenly cooking on the stove.
“Yes mother, we’re staying! No reason to assault the poor girl.” Seeing that she was free from his parents’ grasps, Tariq made his way to Emily’s side and took her hand into his, leading her to the dining room.
Before long, a traditional meal of vegetables, dips, chicken and rice, and delicious flatbreads was presented at the table along with some wine. The spread looked like something out of a magazine and all of the sudden Emily was back in disbelief mode. How did she end up here? Suddenly it seemed inconceivable that she was in the office yesterday worrying about Mike and now she was in the Middle East having a delicious meal with a delightful family and their handsome son.
“So tell me, Emily,” Nuray began. “How long have you and my son been a couple?”
“Uhhh…” she stammered, taking a strategic sip from her wine before looking up bashfully at Tariq.
“Long enough to know I believe Emily is one of a kind,” Tariq said with ease, charm and sincerity dripping from every word.
“What do you do, dear?” Tariq’s father asked, scooping up some hummus in his flatbread before looking back up at Emily with curiosity.
“I’m an accountant at a travel company in Phoenix,” she said with a polite smile. “Actually that’s sort of how Tariq and I met. It was at a charity event. I was up for auction, to raise money, and—”
“Oh, that’s my Tariq,” Nazeer interrupted with a sly grin. “He’s a charmer, isn’t he? Did he sweep you off your feet?”