“I don’t understand why you would do that? Why would you escape? Was I treating you badly? Was I allowing anyone to treat you badly? I promised that no one would ever lay a finger on you. I promised that I would never harm you in any way. Why would you put your life in danger just to run away from me?”
I felt my throat closing as I listened to his words, looking at him, not knowing what to say. So I said nothing.
“We agreed that you would stay here and we would pretend we were happily married for six months and then you would go. I thought you wanted to save Janna’s life? And for your information, your nephew’s or niece’s as well! If you didn’t want to, why did you tell me you were okay with it? Why? Why fool me? And then jeopardize your life that way?” He pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes glowing with anger, but a controlled anger. “Just one thing I really want to know more than anything: I told you all about the secret tunnels. You knew that one of them ended very close to the airport and a car was covered there ready to be used in case of any emergency. Why didn’t you take that tunnel? Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to betray you that way!” I shouted, tears blurring my vision.
The truth was, I did think about it, but I thought that if he’d trusted me that much, I shouldn’t violate that trust and use it for my benefit. It wasn’t right to do so, and I couldn’t do it.
The prince looked taken aback by my yelled declaration, keeping his eyes locked with mine for a few moments, then shook his head. “You confuse the hell out of me, Princess,” he said in a low voice. “Most of the time I think I understand you, but then you do or say something and I just…you confuse me,” he repeated. “You made a deal with me to stay here for six months, and then you escape. You said you would help cover for my sister to save her life, and then put it in danger along with yours. You knew about an easier escape route, but you didn’t use it, so as not to betray me even with everything you did. You told me to pretend that the kiss I shared with you never happened, and then you came and kissed me, just like that.” He let out a sarcastic chuckle, “Or was it a part of your ‘Let’s make a fool out of Mazen’ plan?”
“I wasn’t trying to fool you,” I said in a low voice, and he gave me a look of disbelief. “I really wasn’t,” I insisted. “You’re right, escaping that way was a mistake, even if I didn’t care for Janna–which is not true, by the way–I should’ve thought about the baby inside of her, not because it’s my blood, but because it’s a baby, innocent in all of this. I just wanted an out, I wanted to go home, the thought was consuming me to no end. When I saw an out, I couldn’t not take it. I wasn’t thinking about it from all angles, I admit. You could say I was too caught up in the motion, I wasn’t really thinking.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said, and I frowned. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, but really, you just don’t think about a lot of things, and I keep trying to understand you or why you do it, but...” He shook his head.
“Like that day we went out, you brought back roses for Mona to apologize for yelling at her. I told you to keep our sneaking out a secret, and you did, to a point. You just didn’t think of the fact that Mona would wonder where you got those roses from–which, by the way, we only grow that kind in the stable garden, and certainly not in our sunroom. She would eventually put two and two together and know we went to the stable.”
Oh, snap! I really didn’t think about that! His words made my eyes widen.
“You did it with good intentions, that I’m aware of, so it’s fine. Lots of things you did were the same way, but this?” He threw his hand in the air in an ‘I don’t know why’ motion.
“I just wanted to be safe again!” I tried, my voice low and my eyes looking away from him.
‘‘Safe?” he said in shock. “You weren’t safe in here?”
I didn’t reply.
“I know with everything your brother did you were not feeling secure, and I know my mother didn’t make you very comfortable with her words, but...I promised you, Princess. I promised to keep you safe. Did I do anything that made you not trust me? Why can’t you trust me? Just give me one good reason why!”
A tear escaped my teary eyes, and the truth escaped my trembling lips. “You’re a Muslim. I can’t trust Muslims, that’s why.” I turned away, my back facing him, I couldn’t risk seeing the look of hurt I knew would be there, caused by my words. I’d never liked the sight of him being hurt, and didn’t think I ever would.
“Huh? Seriously, Princess?” The hurt was truly evident in his voice. “Because I’m a Muslim? How judgmental and prejudicial could you really be?” His voice raised a bit, and frustration hardened his tone, along with…distaste. Might even be disgust. “First you call me a filthy Arab, then you say you can’t be friends with a Muslim, and now this?”
I couldn’t take it, I wanted to tell him, I wanted him to understand. I couldn’t stand the fact that he would think I was like that for nothing: I had my reasons. I wanted to tell him…but, the words wouldn’t come out. They just wouldn’t.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I said with a shaky voice.
“And I did tell you I wanted us to get to know each other, but you didn’t want anything to do with me, of course–because I’m an Arab Muslim.”
A battle was happening inside my head. I wanted to tell him everything, I wanted to explain myself; I hated being judged so much. He didn’t know the truth, or why I was like that towards him and his people…or race, for that matter. But I’d never talked about those things. Only a handful of people knew of my story, and I didn’t know if it was a good idea to share such a thing with him.
“You were away from the palace for only half an hour before you were brought back. Only half an hour. Do you realize what that means? It didn’t work. For one reason or another, it didn’t work,” he said. “It would’ve never worked unless I was involved in it. I would’ve made your departure successful and safe! Had you told me you weren’t okay with staying here for those six months, I would’ve found a way out. I would’ve still found a way to save my sister, one that didn’t involve you. I would’ve come up with something. I’ve done it before, and I would’ve done it again,” he paused, “But you lied to me, making it even more difficult to try and cover it up.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks; the pain in his voice all the while he was speaking wasn’t lost on me. The silence lingered, and the tension that was surrounding us grew thicker, and when I heard his frustrated and impatient huff, I just had to tell him. Everything.
“My parents–God rest their souls–were very busy people,” I started, trying really hard to control the shaking in my voice. “They barely ever had any time for me or my brother, but when they did, they made it the best: always making up for the time they spent away, always doing their best to let us know that they were busy like that only for our sakes, to provide us with everything we might ever want and more–and we got used to it. We accepted it.” I knew that the prince was probably wondering why I was telling him that, but he didn’t say anything, he just let me talk, and talk I did.
“When they were away, they didn’t leave us to be raised by a nanny, they left us with our grandparents, my mother’s parents. They were loving and caring more than I could ever describe. I loved my parents dearly, but I loved my grandparents even more, way more.” I sighed. “Joseph was always a huge bother for them: pranks, tricks, troubles, you name it. My parents had to send him off to a private school, leaving me alone with my grandparents since I was only five years old, and I think their love for me was doubled after that day. After all, I got all of their attention.
“My grandmother was my life, and my grandfather was my soul. Though he was working, he always made sure to drive me to school every single morning. When he would stay all night at his office until morning or when he would go in earlier than usual to work, he would have his driver take me to his work place, and then he would take it from there and still drive me to school himself.” I swallowed thickly, my
heart thumping hard in my chest, the worst memory of my life nearing my head, and the feel of an approaching panic attack threatening to consume me.
“One day–a day I’ve been calling The Black Day since I lived it–he had to go in early, and the driver took me there, near the building where we usually waited for my grandfather to come and take me. My first class started at nine o’clock; we were very late and I was annoyed by that fact, but I knew that my grandfather would somehow drive me in on time. The driver left the car, but I could see him as he took a few steps away from it, leaned on a wall, then lit a cigarette. It was only a minute or two later that I heard the most horrible sound I’d ever heard in my whole life, the sound of an explosion, a loud thud, glass crashing and steel twisting.” My voice cracked and my tears stayed fresh on my cheeks, my arms coming to hug my body, trying my best to keep myself as calm as possible so I could finish saying what I wanted him to know.
“I think I could never tell you how scared I was, seeing everyone running around me, screaming. The driver nowhere to be found: he ran or something, he was just...not there. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I could only hug my knees to myself and cry and shake…and watch.” My breathing started to become uneven, and I still tried my best to control it. By that point, I didn’t even think about what the prince was doing behind me anymore or if he was listening or whatever. I was nine years old again and trapped in the car, watching with teary and terrified eyes as people ran, shouted, cried and screamed.
“Papa!” My voice was panicked and my breaths were shallow, fear filling my insides and tears filling my eyes.
“Manon.” His voice was very low and his breaths were barely there. Worry filling his words, and an undeniable sorrow was in his tone.
“Papa, I’m so scared, please come here already.” Begs and pleas.
“I’m afraid I won’t make it this time, Sweetie-Pie.” Gasps and sobs.
“No, no, Papa, you have to come here, you have to.”
“Papa loves you so much, Manon.”
“My grandfather called me, his last words were that he loved me, calling me with the name that I never allowed anyone to call me ever again. It was ours, and I made sure that it stayed that way.” A wave of longing hit my heart; I missed him so much, it hurt so badly. “And when the call ended, the scene around me just didn’t, nor did the fear in my heart.”
The space between the backseat and the passenger seat felt so tiny as I slid myself down there, my eyes refusing to obey my mind’s order for them to close tightly shut. They stayed wide open, watching in terror all of the horrible things happening around me.
My tears blurred my vision, and somehow I was grateful for it, because the sight would be cloudy for a moment, preventing more horrible things from entering my mind. But it would clear again way too soon when my tears would escape my eyes.
The smell of something metallic burning, all of the smoke up above that I could see through the window, filling the place around the car, my hands too shaky and too scared to leave my knees and close the opened window, my head moving frantically to the sides, my body pulling up to see something, then curling down when the ‘something’ caused me to scream with closed lips, too scared to even open my mouth. Wanting to be found yet so afraid, that being lost and forgotten would be better, because the world outside of the car was too terrifying to even think about leaving.
My grandpa had never lied to me. Never. But I kept wishing that he had finally done so. That he’d lied when he told me he wouldn’t make it. That he would come eventually and end this nightmare with his warm smile and loving hug.
“Do you have any idea how I felt as I watched people jumping from the building to the ground? Right before my eyes, I saw it all. And when I heard the second explosion...I couldn’t stop the shaking in my body after that, I was literally vibrating,” I rubbed my throat with my hand, desperate for the tightness in it to lighten a bit, just a bit so I would be able to talk, and I think it worked. Just a bit.
I could never, ever forget the bloodcurdling screams I heard coming from thousands of New Yorkers as the first building collapsed. I could never forget how much it hurt as I kept screaming and crying for Papa to come and save me while I watched more horrific moments and witnessed the most awful thing you could ever see in your life. I could never forget the smell of dirt, smoke and ashes that filled my lungs to the point it was a miracle I stayed alive.
Maybe I passed out, maybe I didn’t. Maybe it was mere hours before I was found, but it still felt like ages and ages. Maybe I wet myself. Maybe I lost my voice screaming. Maybe I was blinded by the gray dirt that filled everywhere. Maybe I grew deaf from all of the sirens going off around me. Maybe I was nothing but a ball of frightened feelings and a broken heart. But I still felt it all, I still had it all: tough, rough, ugly and agonizing.
The fireman that saved me looked like an alien to me. He was covered in dirt, gray from head to toe, his clothes had some tears in them, and maybe even blood–I couldn’t tell through all of the ashes covering his body. I didn’t want to go with him, but was too weak to resist. When he carried me while shushing me, I found a hint of comfort in his arms and even in the roughness of his dirty uniform against my face. My nameless, faceless hero who took me to a safe place where I was taken care of, he might as well have been an angel God had sent to me, for all I knew.
“My grandmother never left my side after that. She walked us through our loss, held my hand all the way, made sure that I knew who’d done this to us, who was responsible for my Papa’s death, and their religion and their roots. I was never able to go to school again. She homeschooled me, taught me almost everything I know. Her first priority was that I stay away from even learning anything about those who’d killed my grandfather other than just that: they killed him,” I choked out, my lips trembling and my voice cracking.
“I admit that before I came here, I didn’t know anything about Muslims other than they kill in the name of their religion. I didn’t even know the name you call God. I’ve learned a lot,” I said. “I admit you were good to me, you treated me with respect and...care. You were so patient with me even when I was so awful to you. I know we made a deal, but I just knew that I couldn’t trust you. I couldn’t tell you that I couldn’t stay here. I thought you might do something bad to me if I didn’t go along with it. And when you promised to keep me safe, I wanted to believe you, I really did, but...it’s inside of me, I couldn’t help it. I just had to not trust you, and the first chance I saw to go home, I just took it,” I cried.
It was only then that I felt his hand touching the back of my elbow softly. He held it and forced me gently to turn around to face him. Though I did turn around and face him, I still wouldn’t look in his eyes–couldn’t, not even when his fingertips touched my chin and raised my head up slightly.
“Look at me, Princess,” he whispered softly, his voice so, so close, causing a wave of calmness to wash over me. Like magic, it was just like magic. “Please, look at me.”
I did. His eyes held something heavy inside of them, something warm, like sunshine. Something tender, like butterfly wings. Something passionate, something…caring, curing, loving.
“If I’d known you didn’t want to stay, I would’ve come up with something else,” he repeated his words from earlier. “I swear to God, I would’ve never kept you here for even one day if I’d known you weren’t okay with it or didn’t want to do it.”
He swore!
“You’re not held prisoner here, Princess,” he said sincerely, his thumbs removing tears as he hugged my face with his hands. “If you’d told me or even given me any hint that you really wanted to leave, I would’ve helped you with all I could to get you back safely to your country, I swear. I would’ve figured out something, I swear I would have. I knew you weren’t very happy about staying here, but I thought you wanted to help. I didn’t know you didn’t want that at all.”
I nodded my head frantically, tears falling, lips pressed into a tight l
ine and eyes fixed on his, my heart believing him, but my mind judging me and calling me stupid.
“I’m so sorry for what you went through,” he said, honesty dripping from his voice. “I’m even sorry I can’t find a better word than ‘sorry,’ but I swear if I had the power to turn back time and save you from going through all of this...I would’ve done it in the blink of an eye. I swear.”
I don’t know if it was me who threw myself into his arms, or it was him who pulled me to his body, but I just knew that in that moment I found myself hugging him so tightly, and him doing the same. I was crying so hard into his chest, and he was soothing me, hushing me, his hand smoothing my hair, and his heart sending calming waves to mine.
“I–I didn’t want to tell you a sob story, I j-just wanted you to understand. I’m not judgmental, I’m not racist,” I sobbed and tried to defend myself. “Muslims took my grandfather away from me, they killed him. I can’t trust Muslims, and all Arabs are Muslims, or so I thought. I can’t trust Arabs as well, I just can’t.” I sounded hysterical even to my own ears.
“Shhh, Princess, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, kissing my hair with the most tender sensation you could ever feel, and then resting his cheek on the top of my head, hugging me tighter. “You can trust me, you can, you know you can.”
And he was right, I always knew I could. I just didn’t want to. But after last night and what he’d done, after this morning and what he’d said…I did.
I trusted him.
My eyes closed, my heart settled down a bit, and my tense body relaxed in his arms. The feel of his body pressed against mine that way did such wonders in calming me that I almost hummed, or maybe I really did, but it was quiet even to my own ears.
[Colorblind 01.0] Black Keys Page 29