by Holly Rayner
Business had been booming, as per usual.
Rachelle took a deep breath, the scent of Lake Michigan reaching her nostrils as she made her way across the network of straight roads to get to the pier. As she walked from pavement to wooden slats, she passed by a few trendy restaurants and an ocean of tourists as she made her way to the one thing she wanted to see.
The Ferris wheel towered above the crowd, slowly turning as passengers boarded and exited. Rachelle waited her turn in line as she stepped up to the front.
“That will be ten dollars, please,” the attendant said.
Rachelle handed him a few bills, and was escorted to an enclosed box with glass windows. It was nothing like the older-style wheel she had gone on with Darian, and in that moment, she regretted her decision to come.
Stepping inside, the glass doors were closed behind her, and she felt safe, even as the wheel began to turn, lifting her high into the air. Sitting on the plush seat, she stared out at the gray morning, Chicago’s unique skyline cresting the coast of the lake. The wind should have been blowing in her hair. The scent of water should have been echoing across her senses.
Instead, she felt as though she was in a glass prison, watching the world from inside a box.
Sitting down, she cast a morose gaze out at the world, allowing herself to relive the ride she had taken with Darian. He had been so witty and kind, his eyes like melted chocolate. She had imagined them so many times in her waking hours, before her mind went haywire and she imagined them staring out cold and lifeless, destroyed by an errant military regime.
Rachelle took a shaky breath, working to calm herself. She had been so plagued by mixed emotions, trying to find any information on Darian and coming up empty-handed, wondering constantly if he was thinking about her, too. She reminded herself time and time again that girlish thoughts would do no good, but her heart never wanted to listen. She would have to get a grip.
As she sat in that sterile box, reminded of what could have been, she was acutely aware of what was. Nothing in her world had changed except for her. She would have to adapt and get back to the life she was living before Zaradi.
She simply had to.
The wheel wound its way back down, and Rachelle disembarked back onto the pier, watching the delighted faces of a pair of twins as they jumped in with their parents.
Rachelle squared her shoulders and walked with purpose back to her office building. The time for wistful reminiscing and empty wishing was over. She would move on. She would find a man like Darian, if not better, and she would have a life full of love and laughter, as everyone deserved. It would come in its own time, and until then, it was time to get back to work.
As the elevator doors dinged open, Rachelle stepped out to meet Phoebe.
“Everything’s ready, and the clients have arrived. I’ve got them in the conference room now.”
“Thanks, Phoebe. Let’s go land this account.”
“Let’s,” Phoebe agreed.
Together, they entered the conference room and were met with three women in sharp suits. All of them stood when they entered.
“Ladies, welcome to KSK Worldwide. I’m so glad you’ve given us a chance to speak with you today about the possibilities of spreading your platform worldwide.”
One of the women reached out her hand, and Rachelle shook it.
“Sandy Johnson, CEO of Femipad. Thank you for taking the time to show us what you can do today.”
“Of course. This is a very important topic, and I’m happy to meet all of you. You have accomplished wonderful things.”
Everyone sat back down as Rachelle made her way to the front of the room, her presentation in full force.
“Over the past five years, Femipad has revolutionized feminine hygiene, bringing desperately needed products to women and girls in poverty-stricken areas around the United States. Now, you are ready to expand beyond our borders, and change the game for women around the globe. Our goal at KSK is to normalize this issue in parts of the world where this topic continues to be a source of discrimination for girls as young as nine years old.”
Rachelle continued through her presentation, detailing just how KSK would work to ensure that their advertising was handled carefully and thoughtfully, so that the company could not only expand and grow, but they would also be doing what they set out to do—help women and girls get access to better hygiene when it came to their cycles. As she reached the end of the presentation, she smiled out at the group of businesswomen.
“Look at us. A room of top-level executives, and not a man in sight. This, ladies, shows the progress that we have been able to make towards a more equal future. Let’s work together to form the baseline for others who don’t have the access that we do. Let’s make a difference for women around the globe, together. Thank you.”
There was applause from the table as Rachelle joined them, folding her hands as she prepared for the question and answer section of the pitch.
“Are there any concerns that I can address for you?” she asked.
The women looked around at one another. They asked a few questions regarding tactical timing and when KSK could launch their first round of advertisements.
“I’m thinking about running a campaign around the likes of knowing when you’re due. Do you know your cycle? Are you prepared? Now, imagine dreading that time every month, feeling shame and fear, losing out on educational opportunities because of your basic human functions. Something along those lines.”
Sandy and her team nodded approvingly.
“It’s amazing how much we take that for granted. Even having a calendar to track that kind of information can be a privilege.”
Rachelle nodded. The room was filled with thoughtful silence as each woman considered these elements to the platform. Rachelle thought about when her last cycle had been. She had never really been big on tracking it, but when she thought about it, she realized that it hadn’t come in an awful long time.
Her arms prickled with goosebumps as she considered what that might mean.
Could it be possible?
Swallowing her disquiet, she smiled back up at the group.
“It seems we have much to discuss, and you have plenty to think about in considering our campaign. If you would like, I’d be happy to touch base with you in a few days, and we can discuss possibilities of moving forward.”
Sandy stood, her team following suit.
“That would be great. I’ll be in touch with you sometime later this week, if that’s all right.”
Rachelle nodded, shaking Sandy’s hand. She hoped it didn’t feel to her as cold and clammy as she felt it was.
“Absolutely. Thank you again for taking the time to join us today. Allow us to show you back to the elevator.”
With each step, Rachelle felt more and more nervous. She kept her smile in place, making pleasant small talk as they made their way to the elevator and waited for it to arrive. As the women stepped inside, they bid each other a kind farewell as the doors closed, and Phoebe looked at Rachelle with excitement in her eyes.
“I think that went really well! You nailed it!”
Rachelle smiled back at her, though it might have come out more as a wince. Phoebe’s excitement faltered.
“Are you okay? Do you think it went badly? Did I miss something?”
“No, no. Not at all. I think we landed it. I just…need to check something. Can you take messages for any calls that come in this afternoon? I might need to head home for a bit.”
“Of course,” Phoebe said, her gaze concerned as she watched Rachelle stride back to her office and close the door behind her.
Rachelle stared at her computer calendar, counting back to when she could last remember her period. She still couldn’t remember when it was, which wasn’t a good sign. Grabbing her coat and purse, she headed back out through her door and straight to the elevator, where she pressed the button over and over again until the door finally dinged its arrival. She shifted from one foot t
o the other as time passed like molasses, the elevator finally reaching the ground floor.
Rachelle made her way to a local pharmacy, where she blushed as she purchased a pregnancy test. The cashier didn’t seem to care, placing it in the bag and taking her change as though she were buying nothing more than a candy bar. Rachelle fought a rising wave of panic as she walked back to her apartment and stepped inside, ripping at the box as she did so.
She read the instructions, having never taken a pregnancy test before. She told herself that she hadn’t felt anything like morning sickness or cravings. It was far more likely that her body was just reacting from the stress of her evacuation.
She stared at her reflection for a moment, psyching herself up before she took the test and set it back down on the bathroom counter. Not looking at it, she quickly stepped out of the bathroom, pacing like a caged tiger around her apartment.
What would she do if it was positive? She didn’t even know if the potential child’s father was alive, much less where he was hidden from his own government. What would she do?
Rachelle knew that enough time had passed. She knew that she would have to look. She told herself that it was just stress and she was being paranoid, but somewhere a niggling voice in the back of her mind disagreed.
As she stepped back into the bathroom, she closed her eyes for a moment before standing before the counter and opening them to take a look.
As it turned out, Rachelle was pregnant.
Chapter Eleven
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Rachelle texted Phoebe that she wasn’t feeling well and would be taking the rest of the afternoon off. After assuring her several times that she didn’t need anything except for Phoebe to watch things at the office, Rachelle sat on her couch and stared out at Lake Michigan.
She thought about her last moments in Zaradi. The stone cold darkness in Darian’s eyes. No matter how many times she went over it, there was still the memory of something behind that steel—something softer. It had given her hope as she had cried herself to sleep more times than she wanted to count.
Now, she would be having his child.
As her shock began to wane, Rachelle’s mind began to whir as she tried to think about what her next steps would be. The truth was, her feelings had never dulled since leaving his country. She loved him. She knew how irrational it was. She had only known him for a tiny fraction of time. But that time was the most precious she had ever experienced. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of Darian holding her, cradling her belly with his child inside.
There was nothing for it. She would have to find him. She had to let him know that he would be a father, and perhaps they could find a way to be a family, disjointed as they were at the moment. A thought tickled the back of Rachelle’s mind.
His business card.
In the chaos of leaving Zaradi, Rachelle had completely forgotten that she had Darian’s business card tucked safely away in a back pocket of her wallet. Rising, she evaluated her body as she walked across the room to get her purse.
She felt fine. Great, actually. Healthier than she ever had. Weren’t there supposed to be side effects to being pregnant, like morning sickness and the like? Might she be one of the lucky few who avoided them?
Pulling her wallet out of her purse, she unzipped the pocket with his card and delicately removed it, holding it like a sacred relic. She held it against her nose, and she almost believed she could catch the scent of him through the fibers of the card. Super smelling powers was a pregnancy thing, wasn’t it? His pajamas had long since lost their scent, and she had tried keeping them in a closet a few times before giving in and wrapping them around her every night.
Turning the card around, Rachelle gazed lovingly at the distinctive, swirling handwriting. She had never seen a man with handwriting like that, like he was from another time. His number was written clearly, and she brought the card back to the couch, where she picked up her cell phone and typed in his number.
She listened as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.
There wasn’t even a voice mailbox for her to hear his voice. After several minutes of listening to the ring, hoping that she would be surprised by his voice on the other end of the line, she ended the call, holding the phone as she gazed out once again.
She had to find him.
Darian was going to be a father, and he deserved to know. Rachelle didn’t want to keep that information from him, only to have a child asking her where his or her father was, only to find him and discover he never knew his son or daughter existed.
That would be too hard to bear.
Rachelle wracked her brain for an answer, a solution. She was a problem solver by trade. A million little problems crossed her desk every single day, and she fixed them all. She could find a solution to national upheaval, right? She picked her brain for an answer before landing on one.
The Zaradi embassy in New York could have some answers!
Pulling out her laptop, Rachelle began to dig around the internet, finally landing on the contact page for the embassy. She tapped in the number and pressed call, waiting as the phone rang once again.
“Zaradi Embassy, this is Shara speaking.”
“Hi,” Rachelle said, not sure where to begin. “I’m looking for Sheikh Darian Al-Adain.”
There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line.
“Who may I ask is speaking?”
Rachelle felt a small flicker of hope beating in her heart. Maybe that’s where they had evacuated him to! Maybe she could speak with him in that moment, finally! What would she say over the phone? This kind of news wasn’t really something one gave from a distance. She had been hoping that she could get his whereabouts and tell him then.
“My name is Rachelle Smith. The Sheikh and I were together when the siege occurred. I’ve been trying to reach him.”
“The royal family has been displaced by the conflict in Zaradi and at present, as I’m sure you’re aware, the rebel army has assumed control. Their current whereabouts are unknown.”
The woman’s voice was cold and final, and it was the same story Rachelle had read before it had been eliminated from the internet, somehow. Who had that ability, anyway?
“I understand that you have to tell people that, but Darian and I are friends, and I am worried about him. Please, if you know anything, can you bend the rules a little and tell me?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have no other information to tell you. We are just as hopeful that the royal family has been brought to safety. Beyond that, there is no other information to provide.”
“But…”
“I’m sorry. If you have any other questions, please consult our website. Good day.”
There was a click as Rachelle’s phone beeped at her, signaling a hang up.
Rachelle nearly threw the phone against the wall. That woman had to know more than she was letting on, didn’t she? Perhaps not. In her frustration, Rachelle stood, pacing back and forth once again.
She could go back to Zaradi, and look for him personally. As she considered her other options, the dead ends and the brick walls, it was the only thing that made any sense in that moment. If she could find him, they would be safe. It was the only way. There was no knowing where he was, but chances were that they didn’t hide him far from his home country, right?
Determined, Rachelle opened her laptop back up and began looking for flights to Zaradi. Warning signs flashed all over her computer as she clicked through each page to order her flight. The airline companies made her digitally sign a waiver that they were not liable if flights to war zones were cancelled. When she got to the last page, it refused to sell her a ticket.
“Ugh!” she huffed, slamming a palm against the sofa.
Tapping her nails against the sofa ledge, she glared at the screen, trying to think of another solution. It dawned on her slowly.
Nurabi.
The nei
ghboring country she had flown out of! Surely there couldn’t be any travel restrictions there! Clicking back several pages, Rachelle changed her airport selection, clicking back through without any warnings. When she reached the end, she made the final click and watched as the confirmation screen flashed before her eyes.
It was done, then. She would fly into Nurabi and find someone who could help her locate Darian. A seed of doubt splintered in her belly. What if he didn’t want to see her? What if that hardness in him as they parted was how he really felt, and she’d read him totally wrong? They had had such a magical time together—could it have been one-sided?
She remembered how his eyes glistened in the starlight on his balcony before he kissed her. There was magic in the air. She knew it in her bones and her soul that it was there. It was real. It had to be. Their child’s happiness depended on it.
At that moment, her phone beeped. It was a text from Phoebe.
Just checking in. You okay?
Rachelle stared at the message. If there was one person she could confide in, it was Phoebe. She texted back, asking her assistant if she could come over, and was granted with an instant response saying that she would be there in ten minutes.
Rachelle hadn’t bothered to change out of her work clothes, and her suit coat was wrinkled as she settled back into the couch, waiting for Phoebe to arrive. The door opened minutes later, just as promised.
“Hey! I brought you some soup from down the street. I ordered it on my way in so it was ready to go. Should be nice and hot!”
Phoebe brought the soup over to the coffee table in Rachelle’s living room. It was nearing dinner time, and Rachelle did feel a little peckish. When Phoebe looked at her, her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t look so bad,” she observed.
Rachelle smirked.
“Thanks,” she said, leaning back and eyeing the soup.