A Silent Prayer

by Samreen Ahsan

  “It is called spending money at the right time. If it will bring a smile to your face, I can spend more than that.” Adam always makes me speechless. There is no point in arguing with him. I will have to be more cautious in the future; as now I know, he watches my every move. I don’t want him to spend so much money on me. I have no right to his treasure. “Would you like to have dinner here?” he asks me, as we seat ourselves in the luxurious lounge. “We have some time before we go.”

  “After a smoothie and then hot chocolate, you think I would have room? But I must say you feed me well, Adam.” I smile at him with all my heart.

  “I like feeding people. And feeding you is a different experience. It is very sexy!” His gaze on me deepens.

  Oh!

  I avert my eyes from him, to avoid his intensity. His green eyes have the power to sneak directly into my soul, and that is not fair. Every time he looks at me like that, without even touching me, he is able to pass a thousand watts of current through every inch of my body. “I would like to feed you with my hands one day.” His voice gets more serious and passionate, as do his eyes, and it gives me different signals that I have ever received from him before. I huddle into the corner of the couch, keeping a safe distance from him. There is no one else in the lounge.

  Is it the privacy, or the coziness of the area that is making him more intense?

  “You are very beautiful, Rania. I would like to paint you on canvas one day.” He still keeps a safe distance, but his eyes don’t.

  “You paint as well? I didn’t know that.”

  “No one does. I do it at home, in my spare time. I haven’t ever painted a real person. It’s either landscapes or objects. But I wonder if I would be able to capture your beauty.” He pauses for a moment and continues. “Only God can create such divine beauty. Humans are far from this talent, I believe.”

  “But I thought you didn’t believe in Him.”

  “I told you earlier, you left me no choice. You are making me believe in Him. So, whoever has created you is a perfectionist.” His way of complimenting me is so different from other men. It is very sexy, yet also respectful and gracious. We look at each other quietly, until we get interrupted by a very handsome young Frenchman.

  “Bonjour, Mademoiselle.” He greets me with a warm gesture and a kiss on the back of my hand.

  “My name is Eugene. As a part of our business class service, we would like to offer you a massage in our spa. Hot stone, aromatherapy, acupuncture—”

  “I would be interested in a foot massage.” I stand up with excitement.

  “Of course, ma’am. I am a reflexologist by profession and I can—”

  “Do you have a masseuse here?” Adam interrupts.

  “Not at the moment, sir.” Eugene seems to hesitate.

  “Eugene is here to give me a foot massage, Adam.” I look back and forth from Adam to Eugene.

  “Thank you for your offer, Mr. Eugene. We are not interested,” Adam says very rudely to the masseur. He grabs my hand and heads to the other side. The masseur is astonished at Adam’s behavior and leaves, giving strange looks to both of us.

  “That was very rude of you, Adam.” I look at him furiously, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “And what were you doing? Taking a massage from a Frenchman?” He is angrier than me. What’s wrong with him?

  “Oh, come on, Adam. He is a reflexologist. I know he is good-looking, but I don’t mind if he—”

  “But I do mind. Do you get me? I do mind if some other man gives you a massage.” His eyes become more intense and he leans closer to me. I look at him quizzically. Is he serious? “Do you know what kind of sounds you make when you are given a foot massage? Extremely pleasurable and highly erotic! You want to indulge that man, so that he can fuck himself from your sounds and take all the pleasures?” His words shock me. I look at him with my mouth open in surprise. Do I really make sounds during a massage?

  Oh my God! This is so embarrassing.

  I sit back on the sofa, still shocked by his attitude. Is he getting possessive about me? If not, then what should I call it? All my life, I have been escaping from this feeling, from a possessive man. The feeling which swallows all other feelings like love, trust, and companionship. I start to shiver and feel like my past is holding up a mirror to me once again. Adam notices my sudden mood change and sits beside me.

  “I’m sorry for my behavior.” So, he finally admits his mistake. “Last night, when I gave you a massage, you were making sounds which only a man can understand. The feeling that I got at that moment—I don’t want another man to experience it.” He looks down at his fingers, entwined on his lap. “I don’t know what you call it, Rania, possessiveness or jealousy. But I can’t share that feeling with anyone.” He stands up without even looking at me, picks up the newspaper, and sits on the other side of the room. I sit here quietly, not sure what to say. Being jealous or possessive, is it one of Adam’s normal traits? What other traits are there in his personality that I have not seen or experienced? He possesses what he wants. I don’t want you to end up being one of his possessions. Ben’s words churn in my mind with all the mixed feelings that I have for Adam.

  He has shown me care and kindness; he has surprised me in various ways that I have never dreamt about. Yet, his sudden change in attitude has created an alarm in my head. I guess Ben is right; I should be more cautious. It was just a foot massage by a stranger, and he is frenzied about it. What if I tell him about my past? How deranged would he act? Where is the trust that he has been asking for? I want to ask him about it, but his frozen attitude shows that it is not the right time. I will ask him when he has control over his emotions.

  An announcement is made to board the plane, and I pick up my bag and head toward the door without looking at him. He follows me without saying a word. Our seats are together, obviously, so I have no other choice but to sit next to him. The airhostess asks us if we want champagne, and Adam orders orange juice for both of us. I look at him in surprise that he didn’t order champagne for himself. He reads my eyes and breaks the silence between us.

  “We need to talk with a clear mind. The alcohol won’t let me talk properly.” Is he a mind reader?

  “What do you want to talk about? Your stubbornness?” I ask him sarcastically, cocking my head. The airhostess shows up again with our juice. He turns toward me and holds my hand tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Rania. If I’ve upset you, I am ready to apologize to that good looking masseur also, but please don’t be so distant with me.” His expression is as serious as his tone, but somehow, his way of calling the masseur good looking makes me laugh and banishes all my anger and fear. With one apology, he eases all the tensions between us.

  “Oh, Adam, you are very cute.” I put my other hand on his. “So, I can get a massage now?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I will ask them if they have a masseuse here on board.” He leans away from me, back to his jealous mode.

  “What’s the problem with—”

  “I don’t want any man to touch you, Rania. It’s as simple as that. Or do you want to be touched by another man?” He looks at me in vexation.

  I look at him, wondering what has happened to him. “And why do you think I want to be touched by some stranger?”

  “Exactly! I am doing what you want. I am protecting you from the ferocious eyes.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe it.” I put my hands on my mouth, trying to hide my laughter. He is acting like a kid who is not willing to share his toys. “He was a professional masseur. I was not dating him.”

  “Don’t you even dare think about dating another man.” His look ravages the entire comfort zone between us. What is wrong with him?

  “Another man? What do you mean by that? Who am I dating?”

  “What do you call this, then?”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Gibson, we a
re just friends. I am not dating. You are not my boyfriend.” My tone is a bit harsh, and loud enough that the people around us look at us with curiosity. Our argument is getting us nowhere.

  I realize it is better to be quiet than to argue during the flight and create a scene. He is not in his regular mood, so to avoid bickering, I take out my ebook reader and continue with my reading. I know he is looking at me, trying to say something, but my cold behavior and unresponsiveness give him the message. He is treating me like a possession that he can claim whenever he wants. If an encounter with a professional masseur is so difficult for him, then will he also get enraged over my friendship with Mike? No, I can’t let him dominate me like that. I won’t jeopardize my years of friendship with Mike over his stupid, arrogant, jealous attitude.

  “I know you’re not reading.” He interrupts my wild thoughts. How does he know that? “You can’t be reading a single page for ten minutes. Tell me what you’re thinking.” He leans his head toward me, whispering very low, so that no one can hear us.

  “Why don’t you tell me, Mr. Mind Reader, what I am thinking?” I ask him crisply. He smiles at my question and shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair.

  “I don’t know what I shall do to you. You are an impossible girl.” He takes a sip of his juice and glances at me. “You think I’m a control freak? That’s what you were thinking?” I shift away from him and huddle toward the window. He is a freaking mind reader. “Your face shows everything, whatever is going on in your head. You can’t lie… not to me at least!” He takes another sip, and relaxes with grace. We don’t speak for a while, until he finally breaks the silence. “Don’t get me wrong, Rania, but I was not raised with any relationships in my life—no siblings, no parents, no childhood friends. Yes, a father, who never had time for me. I don’t know what should I call this, friendship or a date, but it is the first for me in either case. I never had a female friend in my life. No girlfriends. But this, whatever it is, I want to keep it. It’s the most precious possession I have… and the most sacred feeling, which I can’t imagine losing.” Adam’s disclosure sends shivers deep down in me. Am I really so important to him?

  I look at him with a totally awed expression, dumfounded. I have nothing to say to him that is as comforting as his epiphany, but I hold his hand firmly and reassure him with my smile. We don’t speak for the rest of the flight. I don’t know where Adam is taking me or what he has planned, but I trust him unconditionally. When we leave the plane, he seems to be shielding me from the eyes of others. I also hope no one will recognize him in this new city. If he is recognized throughout the nation, it could create a lot of trouble for me.

  Being business class passengers, we are out of the airport in no time. I have never traveled so luxuriously in my life—first the lavish train and then massage options in the boarding lounge, which I was not able to use. Everything looks like a fairytale to me, and I wish to stay in this magical kingdom for a long time, to enjoy all the bliss. Adam appears to be God’s gift to me, and I wonder what good deed have I done to attain such blessings of care, kindness and friendship from one person.

  I am soon seated in a deep blue Lexus with Adam. I have no idea where he is taking me, but it’s almost ten, so he will definitely take me somewhere to sleep. Adam is busy on the phone with someone, giving instructions about office work, so I entertain myself watching all the city glitz and glamour. Christmas is around the corner, so the downtown streets are decorated with holiday lights and trees. This is my first visit to Edmonton, but I never imagined it being so opulent.

  Our car stops in front of The Fairmont Hotel MacDonald, at the grand entrance. It is a huge gray building, looking like it was built early in the last century. Adam is still on the phone, but his eyes and attention are on me. He holds my hand and helps me out of the car, and we enter the lobby. Why is nobody taking care of the luggage? We head toward the reception desk, where we are greeted by a graceful lady in her forties, dressed in a black suit. Adam offers his credit card and Fairmont President Club member card. The lady looks at the card and smiles at both of us.

  “Good evening, Mr. Gibson. Thank you for choosing our hotel. As a President Club member, we are upgrading you to our special Queen Elizabeth Suite on the eighth floor. I am sure you will enjoy your three-day stay with us.” She hands us two room cards with her pretty smile. Three days? But I already have a booking somewhere else.

  I follow Adam blindly to the room. When he opens the door, I am speechless for a moment. We enter a large dining area that easily seats eight, with light gray walls and elegant lighting. Beyond that is a lavish, yet cozy living area, with deep gray velvet sofas and a big flat screen television. What surprises me most is the staircase behind the living room, which reminds me the room lacks a bed. Holy shit! It is a two-story suite.

  I am busy absorbing the beauty and elegance of the room when Adam interrupts me.

  “You like it?”

  “I have no words. But it is too much for… I mean, a whole family could stay here.” I head toward the window and see the beautiful city view, engulfed in darkness and snow.

  “For now, it is just two of us.” Adam speaks with tenderness, taking off his jacket. Two of us? Does he plan for us to sleep in one room? I ignore his statement and look at the view again.

  “Don’t you want to see the bedroom upstairs?”

  I follow him up the stairs, where a double door opens into the master suite. At the entrance there is a beautiful white chaise, perfect for reading, with a stunning city-view window. The room has light brown wallpaper, and is elegantly decorated. There is a large king-size bed, with luxurious bedding and deep red velvet cushions—almost too beautiful to sleep on. There is an en-suite washroom, which has a double sink vanity and a jetted bathtub decorated with ivory candles. It looks like a honeymoon suite.

  Oh no!

  What if someone leaks the news that Adam and I checked into a hotel together?

  “Where is my room, Adam?”

  “This is your room.” He gives me a generous smile.

  “It is too big for me.” I look around the bedroom.

  “Not if you let me sleep here somewhere. This poor guy doesn’t have a room tonight.” Poor guy? I’d like to be as poor as you! He sits down on the chaise. “I can sleep here.”

  “Adam, you’re kidding me, right?” I cross my arms over my chest. “You expect us to sleep in one room?”

  “Yes, because the hotel is overbooked. This is the only room available. Also, my beautiful friend has a problem with nightmares, and I have promised to be there for her.” He copies me and folds his arms over his chest, but he smiles mischievously. So, you are in a playful mood! He observes my tension intently, then stands up and walks over to me. His gaze is dark and deep, which makes me step back, creating a distance between us. I know his desire is to destroy all the boundaries. “You don’t trust me? You think I would do anything against your will?” He reads my face with his intense, serious gaze. He takes something out of his pocket. “I want you to sleep without this poison from now on.” He shows me my sleeping pills. Where the hell did he get those from? “I stole this from your luggage and I’m not going to give it to you.” His tone is extremely serious. “You did sleep well, the whole night without waking up, when I stayed with you in your apartment. I want to see if my presence keeps you away from all this shit or not.”

  “You can’t do this to me. I’ve been taking these pills for years. I can’t sleep without them.”

  “Yes, you will, and I will make sure you don’t take this shit from now on. I want to experiment and see how you will sleep without this, with me.”

  “Then what will happen, Adam? What if your experiment is successful? You can’t be guarding my sleep every night.”

  “Yes, I can. You don’t know me, Rania. I am extremely good at keeping promises.”

  “Oh my God! I can’t believe it.” I rake
my fingers through my hair and shake my head in distress. Adam is impossible to deal with. He expects me to allow him to sleep in the same room with me, so that I don’t get any nightmares. What kind of theory is this?

  “You still get nightmares with these pills. So what’s the purpose of taking them, other than damaging your brain cells?”

  “Yes, I do, but at least my sleep is not broken. If I don’t take them, and I get the nightmares and wake up, I can’t get back to sleep, no matter how hard I try.”

  “You will try, Rania. And I will make it happen. Now that I’ve seen you doing this rubbish, I just can’t let you rely on them. And I will expect you to be a good girl and cooperate with me.” He puts the pills back in his trouser pocket.

  “You promised to guard my privacy, and you bring me to a hotel and want to share a room with me. Do you think no one will find out?” I ask him furiously.

  “No, no one will. I’ve given them special instructions and they will be accountable if the news leaks out. Believe me, I won’t let it happen. Please don’t make a fuss about sharing a room. We were alone on the train for two days and you still think I’m going to attack you like an animal?”

  “It is not about trust, Adam. I am not saying you will harm me. But it doesn’t look good, socially or ethically, that we are sharing a room. Anyone from outside would think we have more than a friendship. What if my father hears about this?”

  “Your father will never hear about it, and why do you give a shit what other people think? You won’t end up in the news, I promise you, so please have some faith in me.”

  There is no point in arguing with him—at least, not for tonight. An attendant rings the room bell downstairs, so we both head down. He has our luggage, and Adam instructs him to leave it on the upper level. He is rewarded with a hundred dollar bill, as a tip, just to bring our bags. Why does Adam waste so much money? I turn on the television, pretending I didn’t notice his generous act. After a while, there is another attendant with the dinner trolley. I am surprised to see the selection of food Adam has chosen.