“But when you don’t believe He exists, then how can you say He is charging you with something?”
He looks deeply into my eyes for a moment.
“I told you earlier, you leave me no choice other than believing in Him.” He smiles at me very lovingly and beautifully. I can never forget his smile. He stands up and offers a hand to me.
“Come, dance with me.” His sweet smile makes me follow his steps. He takes me to the dance floor. The music starts playing itself. I don’t know how he is doing it, but it certainly impresses me. My mood gets lighter in his arms, hearing the music. We dance slowly for a long time. I see the lights changing above us, and wonder if someone else is there. He interrupts my thoughts.
“There is no one here, Rania. I have promised to protect your privacy, and I will keep my promise.” His eyes hold a bold promise.
“So, you booked the whole coach, just to—”
“I can keep this train moving for the rest of my life, if you keep on dancing with me.”
I avert my eyes, but I know his are deeply locked on me. His words are creating a blaze around us. “You always surprise me.” I look up at him and smile. He closes his eyes for a moment.
“I can’t even express what you do to me.” His words are almost a whisper in the air, but their warmth fills the room with affection. He pretends I didn’t hear, so I keep it like that, pretending to be unaware of it.
“This is very lavish. You shouldn’t have spent so much.”
“It’s nothing compared with this, our dance.” We keep dancing, lost in our thoughts. Finally, he breaks the silence. “So, what did you do yesterday, apart from meeting your guardian?” His tone is sarcastic when he talks about Ben.
“I was babysitting all day.” I smile, and he looks at me quizzically. “One of my neighbors has twin girls, around nine months old. They are adorable. I guess they are the best things in my life. I look forward to every Sunday afternoon.” I smile.
“You babysit every Sunday?”
“Almost. I give the parents some time out; meanwhile, I play with the babies. But they are going on vacation for a few weeks, so I am going to miss the little angels. Their innocence makes me forget everything. I’m always surprised when the day is over.”
“I can see that on your face. I’m sure they must be charmed with you too.” We continue with our slow dance, and I don’t object when he envelops me in his arms. I rest my head on his chest, feeling his warm body. His intoxicating cologne fills my senses. What is happening to me? I am freeing myself with his flow. He said he is drawn toward me, but he doesn’t know that the feeling is mutual. I don’t know if I will ever be able to express my feelings to him. But I have to tell him that I am grateful for his comfort.
“Adam?” I pause for a moment, waiting for his response.
“Mmm?” he says softly, to acknowledge me. So I continue.
“Thank you for everything.” The music still plays behind us, tracks keep changing, and I don’t listen to any of it. I am enjoying my peace. “In case I didn’t mention it earlier… I trust you.” He eases his embrace and our eyes meet. His expression says how contented he is to hear this from me. “I hope we never break this trust.”
“That will never happen. I won’t let it break… ever. If I promise to protect you, I will protect you, till my last breath.”
“But you don’t know what you are getting into, Adam. You don’t know me.”
“It’s enough for me that you trust me. I would like to know you better, but I want to give us time, till our bond gets stronger and we trust each other completely. When you don’t have to think before talking to me. You just say whatever is in your heart.” He hugs me and I rest my head on his chest again. We keep dancing, till I am distracted by the background song: Every breath you take. The song’s lyrics make me smile, and I sense he is smiling too. We look at each other, laughing heartily.
After our blissful, magical moment, I excuse myself to go to the washroom. He guides me and I keep following him. The whole compartment is ours, though. We can go anywhere we want to. I just wonder what we will do in here for two more days. I am hungry, also. I look up through the panoramic windows and it is deep dark outside. I check the time and it is almost seven in the evening. I realize I had only breakfast and then a little fruit. I slept all the way, till he surprised me.
“I will arrange dinner for us. You can freshen up.” Is he a mind reader? I don’t say anything, and escape into the washroom.
At the end of our dinner, I say, “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” I have his complete attention, so I go on. “The article in the paper, with the picture of us dancing, said that was the first time you’ve been spotted dancing with someone. But I also read that you pick up women at parties.”
He laughs at my question, though I am serious. I don’t think it was funny.
“Do you want to know whether I bother to dance with women before shagging them?” He tries to control his laughter. I nod. “About the dancing, it’s not that I haven’t ever danced with anyone. I do dance, but it’s usually very formal, like dancing with a business associate. Nothing like I was with you. That’s what surprised the media. We didn’t have a business relationship, but still, I…” He stops. He knows I understood, so he doesn’t bother finishing his sentence.
After a pause, my interrogation starts again. “So, the ladies you… I mean… slept with. Were they your business colleagues or…” I’m not sure how to continue, so I start playing with the glass.
“No, Rania. I don’t fuck with my business at all. Some of the encounters were arranged for me by my business associates, as a gift or a gesture; some by my people. I don’t pick them. I use them for my pleasure and they get well paid for it. It is pure business.” He takes a sip of his drink, but his eyes are locked on me.
“So, you call fucking a business, and you say you don’t fuck with your business. How very smart!” I try to suppress my smile, but he sees me smirking because of my dimples.
We remain in silence and finish our meals. It is an odd topic to discuss. I realize I shouldn’t have asked about it. It is too personal. But since he told me we should put our trust in each other, it is important for me to hear everything from his mouth and not judge him from the media.
“And what if you don’t like a lady that you are given? How do you ask her to go?”
He looks at me sharply, as if he didn’t get my question. “It’s never happened. I never saw their faces, really. Even if I did, I don’t remember. Their job was to fulfill my sexual needs.” His statement is so abrupt and open that I choke on my juice and drop my glass, coughing. Luckily, the glass lands on the bar and not on the floor, but my clothes are ruined. He stands up from the bar stool instantly, drying the juice, which flows down from the table toward me. He then puts a hand on my back and rubs it.
“Are you okay?” I nod in silence, wiping the juice from my clothes. He puts the glass away and wipes up all the liquid. “Please, go and change, you will catch cold. Your luggage is in your room.” He leads me to a small, but very cozy cabin. I stay silent and lock my door to change my shirt. I check the time and decide it is better to change into my night T-shirt and pajamas, rather than changing just the shirt. Within no time, I come out of the room and find him seated on the lounger, with a flat screen TV facing him. I sit on another couch, and he watches me fetch a plush throw from the side table.
After an awkward silence, he says, “Say whatever is on your mind. You may ask anything. Don’t hold it here.” He points toward his head. “I know what you want to ask me, things about my lifestyle.” He keeps observing me keenly, watching my every move. I cuddle myself in the throw, hiding my nightclothes from him.
“I don’t know what to ask. Umm… did you like anyone, in all those women?”
“I told you. I don’t remember any. They were paid to please me. That’s it.”
<
br /> “Have you ever tried pleasing any one of them?” My question catches his attention strongly. He shakes his head. “I mean, I have read that when a man provides pleasure to a woman, and when a woman makes sounds when she is pleased, and indulges herself in his pleasure, that’s what takes a man to ecstasy. A man enjoys watching a pleased woman more than being pleased.” I pause for a moment. “Have you ever thought of pleasing anyone?”
His gaze gets deeper and more intense. His mind is arrested, thinking, and I notice him stroking his lips with his index finger. Is he wondering what to say, or is he getting the wrong idea about me?
“You read a lot.” That’s it? That’s all you have to say? “I get what you’re saying,” he says, “but I never thought about it. It was always just an exchange of money. None of them ever demanded any pleasure from me.” He pauses for a moment and continues. “I am a very private man, Rania. You’ve read about my lifestyle, but have you seen any photographs of me linked with any woman?” He adjusts himself on the couch. “Other than you, of course. But when I was twenty-six, I got involved in a D/s relationship. She was my submissive for two years, but then she became demanding, assuming I was her boyfriend rather than her master.” He relaxes by taking off his shoes and socks, and places his feet on the ottoman. “After that experience, I decided it wasn’t really a good idea. There was a lot of paperwork and confidentiality involved, and I was starting to get bored with her expectations. So I changed my lifestyle.”
“You mean, to this… umm… pay-as-you-go mechanism?”
“Exactly! You are very smart, Rania. I am impressed.” He smirks and winks at the same time.
“So… in all those years, you didn’t have any girlfriends?”
He looks at me blankly, probably thinking of an answer. Is it too personal?
“No, I never liked anyone. And even if I did, I couldn’t afford to keep a woman.”
“Afford in what sense?”
“Afford in the sense that women demand gifts, dates, hangouts and time. I didn’t have time and money for all that.”
Really? He notices my baffled expression.
“I told you, I haven’t been rich all my life. I have seen what poverty is. I know what hunger is. When my mother left us, my father was in a very bad financial state. He could hardly afford meals for us. He used to drop me at the community center after school, and then went back to work. I used to eat whatever the donators provided. You can’t understand what hunger is unless you have experienced it. I was homeless for three years.” His confession stuns me. Is this the reason for him providing shelter and food to the needy—because he has experienced such need in his childhood? I truly feel sorry for him. We both get lost in our own thoughts for a while, before he breaks the silent bars between us.
“So, are you an only child, or do you have siblings?” He changes the subject.
“I am the only one. I had a very colorful childhood. I was born and brought up in Beirut. When I was fifteen, my father got his UN job and moved to Dubai. I did my high school and college there. I moved here when I was twenty. You know the rest.”
“How did your mother die?” Adam’s question has fired directly at my heart. I go pale and freeze.
“I am tired. I would like to sleep. Good night, Adam.” I stand up, not answering this personal question. He grabs my hand as I pass by.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was crossing a line.” He pulls me closer to him and pushes me down on the couch. “You don’t need to tell me everything today, if you don’t trust me enough,” he says, caressing my hands. “We need to let our friendship grow before I can ask about your past.” My eyes are still down on our hands. “Do you like watching movies?” He changes the subject to cheer me up. He picks up the remote control and starts playing with it. “Let’s see what we have.”
I shift and relax as he browses the list, asking me what I would like to watch. We agree on watching all the Home Alone movies in succession.
I stand up, and he grabs my hand again. “You aren’t going to watch?”
“How can we watch a movie without hot chocolate?” I wink at him and he releases his grip. I head toward the kitchen.
THE MOMENT
♂
I gaze at her, making hot chocolate for us. I pause the movie to wait for her. Watching her doing something for me is more stimulating than a glass of whiskey. No one has offered me hot chocolate since I was a child. She comes back holding two mugs. “Be careful, Adam. It’s very hot.” She hands me the mug, then sits beside me, warming her hands with her own mug.
“Thanks, Rania. I haven’t had this since… my mom left.” I take a sip, and it takes me back in time. Without saying anything, she starts the movie, and we both relax on the couch.
At one point, she hands me her mug and grabs the plush throw, which she wraps around both of us. She’s completely lost in the movie and doesn’t realize how close she is sitting to me. I feel her warmth next to me and it’s driving me crazy.
Control yourself, Adam!
She laughs like a child when the boy in the movie causes trouble for everyone. All I do is admire her beauty and innocence, watching a children’s movie. After we finish our hot chocolate, she cuddles back in the throw, folding her arms. I feel her getting cold, so I wrap my arm around her and surprisingly, she doesn’t object. She snuggles into my arm very chastely, and keeps enjoying the movie. Her laughter close to my heart makes me want to hold her tight, but I try to keep my hands to myself.
When the next movie starts, I feel she has stopped responding to it. I turn my head and find her sleeping on my arm. She is tired from all the surprises I’ve given her since this morning. I want to know what she has gone through in her past. I have seen her crying for her mother when I visited her home after our first date, but she doesn’t want to talk about her. Why?
I wonder if she thought about everything I confessed to her. Will she help me see the light? As I spend more time with her, she is becoming a folded mystery, wrapped in a hard shell, which can only be broken with trust and time. If she feels comfortable sleeping in my arms, then I’m sure one day I will find the passage to that mysterious door, which she called a hideous past. I feel the warmth of her body and, sometime later, I fall asleep too.
* * *
I don’t know how long I have slept, but I wake up with the urge to go to the washroom. Just as I finish, I hear a loud scream, and I rush back to find Rania on the floor, whimpering. She’s moaning in her sleep: it-hurts-please-have-mercy-on-me over and over. I kneel down with her on the floor and shake her hard to wake her up.
“Rania, wake up. It’s okay, dear. It’s just a dream. I’m here. Wake up.” I shake her again, to bring her out of her dream. She opens her eyes, filled with tears, and tries to catch her breath. I cup her face in my hands, wiping her tears. “It was only a dream. You’re safe.” Even after I speak, she keeps looking at me like I’m a ghost. I move the hair out of her face to see her clearly. The movie is still playing on repeat mode, so I assume we have slept for more than two hours. She still looks at me through ghostly wide eyes.
“Are you okay? Talk to me.” Obviously she was dreaming about someone hurting her, but I don’t know who.
She hugs me tightly, crying, as if I have rescued her from a prison camp.
She is trembling badly, and all I can do is hug her back and let her know that I will be at her side. She cries for a long time, until she is out of tears and the pain is released from her body.
When she finally settles down, I pull her away and wipe her face with my hands. She still sobs, so I give her time.
“Are you okay? Let me get you some water.” I release her to fetch the water, but she grabs my arm tightly.
“No, please, don’t leave me. What if he comes here and hurts me?” She looks around in fear. Who is she talking about? It’s not appropriate to ask right now, as she doesn’t look men
tally stable to me. She is still terrified.
“No, Rania. He cannot come here. You’re safe with me. We’re on a train right now. He doesn’t know where you are, okay?” I tuck her hair back, and hold her up. “You had a bad dream. No one is here. Let me put you to bed now. It’s very late and you need to sleep.” I pull her up, but her knees are still weak from fear, so I support her to her cabin. She’s still looking around like she expects to be attacked, but she doesn’t say anything. I tuck her under the blanket and rest her head on the pillow.
“Let me get water for you. And no one else is here, so be calm.” I rush back to the bar and get her water. When I come back, I find her sitting on the bed, holding some pills. She takes water from me and gulps the medication with it. I look at the bottle next to her pillow carefully, to see what it is.
“I can’t sleep if I don’t take my pills.”
“You take pills in order to sleep?” I ask her, surprised, and she nods silently. “Daily?” She nods again, head down. “But that night when I came to your apartment, you slept without them.”
“I don’t know what happened that night. It was my first night without a pill.”
“In how long?”
“Around five years.”
Shit! “That’s a pretty long time, Rania. Don’t you think it’s harmful for your health? These will damage your brain cells.” I put the bottle under her pillow.
“The doctor keeps changing it; otherwise, I will get immune to one formula and it won’t work.”
“But still, it’s not good for you.”
“I don’t desire a long life, either.” She shocks me with her confession. Her eyes are blank, with no hope or desire for anything. Who has taken the dreams from her eyes? Who did she dream of? I wish I could ask her, but I guess if she’s not going to tell me right now, it’s better not to push. I hope that one day, when she trusts me completely, she will reveal all her secrets. She lies back down and I tuck her under the blanket again. I turn off the light beside her bed and turn to leave. Surprised, she grabs my hand.
A Silent Prayer Page 12