by Lara Hunter
“Fascinating,” he grinned. “And I imagine very convenient if you end up loving salad.”
She scoffed and patted her non-existent gut before chuckling, “Bad if you happen to love nachos.”
“You’re funny, Emily,” he said finally, reaching his hand to hers and taking her fingers in his palm. “You’re so shy, yet once you get going you turn into an absolute chatterbox. I gather you have no idea how utterly captivating you are.”
She was shy, it was true, but she had no problem with perceived awkward silences. Suddenly she realized he was holding her hand and her entire face went hot and her heart began to race. His fingers were so warm and inviting.
“And that!” Tariq exclaimed with glee. “I love that.”
“The blushing?” she questioned with some disgust. “Ugh. I hate it! It gives me away.”
“No, it’s cute!” He laughed and began leading her up the stairs within one of the pillared towers. She could only assume he was stealing her away to one of the gorgeous balconies she’d seen from outside. “Think of it this way, Emily. Sometimes it’s nice to know where you stand without playing games with someone.”
Emily blushed again. Being the quiet one had made her more of a ‘watcher’ than a joiner, and one thing she loved to do was people-watch. She loved learning people’s little intricacies without actually having to speak with them.
“Sorry, weren’t we supposed to be talking about you and your likeness to the old sheikh, here?”
Tariq smiled, then nodded. “I was engaged,” he said while opening his hands thoughtfully. He quickly corrected, “It was an arranged marriage.”
Emily’s heart sank. “Oh,” she said, not quite able to voice the questions that had suddenly filled her mind.
Tariq took her by the hand and helped her into one of the balconies. The glass had gold carvings etched across the outside window—this particular design looked as though some ivy had crawled across the glass and been frozen there forever in time.
Tariq stared out the window for a moment before turning back to Emily with a defeated expression. “I know it sounds silly, but at the time I was eighteen, and all I could do was think about Aashiq.”
“But… I thought his wife really loved him and all that? I thought she was super into the marriage and missed him terribly when he left?”
“Yes,” Tariq shrugged, his expression unreadable. “But he didn’t love her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he would rather work on a ridiculous house all day than spend an ounce of time with her. There were even rumors that he only made love to her to carry on his family name. Imagine how she must have felt, being nothing but an obligation to him after all the love she poured into their marriage.”
Emily exhaled. “Good point, I guess.”
“So I was supposed to get married, but I felt haunted by the life of this man I had never met, about his failed marriage. I was supposed to marry my fiancée when she became of age, a year later. And so I left.”
“Like, backed out of it?”
He shook his head. “No, as in I called off the marriage and left the country.”
Emily blinked in surprise. She couldn’t imagine sweet, attentive Tariq bailing out on a commitment. Then again, she couldn’t imagine herself stealing thousands of dollars from her workplace, either. People did the strangest things when put under pressure. She gave a sympathetic look to her companion. Unsure what to say, she took his hand and walked out onto the balcony, bringing him with her.
The view from the balcony was wonderful. The chiseled stone railings, now eroded, gave a wonderful ambiance of what the palace would have looked like if it were still in its glory. The view looked out over a small ghost town of sandstone houses, and the deep blue ocean in the distance. She could practically smell the water from where they stood.
Tariq explained how Sheikh Aashiq had become hugely unpopular during the process of building his palace—especially after draining the nation’s funds for the sake of constructing his great, red home. Fearful and paranoid, Aashiq would traverse his many balconies for days on end, scouting the seas for any sign of approaching enemies.
The story was fascinating and sad, Emily thought, but she could hardly pay attention anymore—all she could think about was the mysterious woman who her crush was supposed to be married to, and what it was that had made Tariq feel as though he didn’t have any love to give her.
“Why did you go to the States?” she asked quietly.
“Well, I loved travel, even back then. And I knew I wasn’t ready to settle down and be with this woman, as lovely as she seemed. My parents…” he trailed off, sighing. “Our family has a long-standing interest in oil. My whole childhood was oil, oil, oil. Can I tell you something?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t even like filling my car up at the gas station. How was I supposed to take over an oil company, or be someone’s husband? All I wanted to do was travel. So I went to the States—against my parent’s wishes, of course—and I started my own business. At twenty-two years old I launched my own airline. Needless to say, this caused quite a bit of tension at home.”
“Well,” Emily retorted, “you did come back a billionaire, so I’m sure there was no love lost.”
Tariq didn’t reply; instead, his eyes cast over the water in the distance. His tan skin soaked up the sun so much that he nearly glowed like the golden domes above them.
Emily felt her heart rate quicken as she thought about him being previously engaged. Sure, it didn’t so much count when you were contractually obliged to marry the person in question, but even the fact that he had called her lovely had made Emily feel jealous. Jealous over a woman who had been abandoned, and all because of a man she’d only met two weeks ago.
Uh-oh, Emily thought to herself. ‘You’re in deep with this one!
EIGHT
The hot sun shone down on Emily and Tariq as they exited the palace. Thankfully, Emily had thought ahead and worn a modest maxi dress with a black-and-white chevron pattern and a large, wide-brimmed hat. She felt stylish—old Hollywood, almost. Something about being in another country made her feel like she could break out of her plain, ordinary office wear and break out the vacation clothes.
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 c
olors 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?”