After the doctor has left, I tuck Rania under the warm comforter and lie down on the chaise. I don’t remember when I fall asleep, but before long Rania’s voice wakes me up.
“No—please don’t hurt me . . . you said you loved me . . . how can you not trust me . . . no please . . . no . . .”
She rises up to a sitting position, panicking and sweating hard. I run to her, embracing her tightly to make her feel secure. She looks around the semi-darkened room in fear, and then looks at me with her ghostly eyes. She is completely worn out with her dreadful nightmare.
Who is the bastard who keeps haunting her, even in her sleep?
I want to ask her every detail, but every time I try to talk to her, she gets so emotional I don’t want to push her. I turn on the rest of the lamps, to reassure her that she is not lost in the darkness, and hand her a glass of water. Her hands shake in fear, so I help her drink it.
“You don’t need to be frightened, Rania.” I tuck her hair gently behind her ears. “I am with you.”
She gives me a dreary look. “What will happen when you’re not there?”
“That won’t happen. I will not let it happen. Trust me!”
“What happened to me, Adam? How did I get here?” She looks at me sadly. “Am I sick?”
“Your blood pressure was very low. I called the emergency service to treat you. They gave you some medicine while you were sleeping. But the doctor said you are very weak due to improper diet, and he has asked me to make sure you get proper nutrition.”
“When did the doctor come?
“Half an hour ago. You were unconscious.” She checks her wrist, probably wanting to know the time, then she touches her other wrist and her ears. “I took your jewelry off. It was bothering you.”
With that, I call room service and ask for dinner and fresh juice. There is still a horrified look on her face, but she manages to get up and makes her way to the washroom.
After ten minutes, she comes out in her pajamas and T-shirt. She sits at the corner of the bed, thinking about something, so I join her.
“I am a mess. I am troubling you for no reason. You did so much to take me to the play and I…” With that, she loses her voice and hides her face in her hands. “I messed up everything.” I wrap my arm around her and rub her shoulder gently.
“You don’t take care of yourself properly. Someone has to… and I want to be that lucky person.”
She takes her hands off of her face and looks at me. I see hope and pain mingled in her tear-filled eyes. As soon as I hold her face, she closes her eyes. I can’t resist kissing her innocent face. I want to tell her so much—what I feel, and how much I long for her, but her vulnerability stops me every time. I give her a deep kiss on her forehead and then move my lips slowly to her eyes. I feel her breath getting stronger with the touch of my lips, but I don’t see the fear on her face that I saw before we left for the play. I give soft baby kisses to both of her eyes and feel her body heating up for me. All the feelings thrashing inside are entirely new to me. I never knew my heart could beat so fast for a woman. I have fucked so many women in my life, but this is something else, something far from haste, greed and lust. I take my time on my journey to discover her beautiful face through my lips, from eyes to cheeks, and then to her nose, but I constantly check her expression. Her fragrance is driving me crazy. She has her eyes closed all this time; I only feel the warmth coming from her body. I keep exploring her face with my lips, kissing every corner of her skin gently, but she doesn’t pull back from me at all. I touch her warm lips with my thumb and she gasps at my touch. As soon as I decide to kiss her lips, I see a teardrop coming from her right eye. At that very instant, her body suddenly feels cold. Very cold. I feel the same heaviness in the air again, as if there is something around us, something hollow. And something pushing me away.
Has she realized I am about to kiss her on the lips?
Is her fear of kissing me coming from her eyes? Her body temperature falls right after the tear. Suddenly, room service rings the doorbell, and she opens her eyes. There is no passion, no affection in her eyes. They are empty. I pull myself away and get up from the bed.
“Our food is here. Please, join me for dinner.” And with that, I head to the main level to open the door.
Rania joins me after a couple of minutes, while the server sets up the table. There is a sudden wave of awkwardness between us. In all these passionate moments, I didn’t realize I was putting our friendship and trust at stake. If she doesn’t want me as her partner, I will also lose a friend. I will lose her trust if I keep trying to kiss her; she might run away and never look back. Right now, she trusts me enough to allow me to sleep by her side, as she knows I would never hurt her. If I keep on showing my feelings through my body, I am afraid I might lose her one day. I should have known from my first trial that she is not ready to take a step further in our relationship.
She joins me at the dinner table, looking at the food blankly. The table is filled with fruits, fresh juices, sandwiches and snacks. I know she will not eat much, since it is nearly midnight, and neither can I, so I ordered light snacks. She is noticeably quiet, maybe avoiding what just happened. She eats her grilled cheese sandwich without talking to me or looking at me at all. With all the tension in the air, I don’t even have the courage to talk. She finishes her meal before I do and waits till I finish mine. Her eyes are cold and her body is as unresponsive as a stone. She stands up from the table, still not looking at me. I ask where she is going.
“I am tired, Adam,” she says with no expression. “I want to sleep. Good night.” And she walks out of the room.
THE SUMMIT
♀
I wake up in the morning with a sudden jerk and realize I didn’t set my alarm. The summit is supposed to start around nine. It is still dark, so I step down from the bed on tiptoes. The other side is empty, which means Adam didn’t sleep next to me. I check the time on the bedside clock and it is half past seven. I still have almost an hour and a half to get ready. Before going to the washroom, I glance at the chaise and find Adam sleeping peacefully.
This man can afford the best beds in the world, yet he is sleeping on a chaise, because of me.
I feel despicable. I offer him nothing, and he accommodates me in every situation. He understands every movement of my body. I know he wanted to kiss me last night, but I don’t know how he found the fear inside me. He never questioned, he never demanded, but he was always there. But what amazes me more is that my body did not refuse him when he started exploring my face with his sensuous lips. I have never allowed anyone to be that close to me in the last five years, yet when he touched me, there was a current passing inside me, tearing all my nerves into bits and pieces and forcing me to surrender to him.
Who are you, Adam? An angel? A guardian? What should I call you?
When we started our friendship, I thought he would take advantage of our solitude and might seduce me, but he proved me wrong every time. Whenever I had a sudden wave of skepticism about him, he proved that all men are not the same. He proved I can trust him with anything—my nightmares, my past, my demons. After all the time I’ve spent with him, I realize it is me who is taking advantage of him, benefiting from his trust and loyalty. It is me who is getting everything, and this man lying on the chaise is getting nothing.
Sometimes life puts us in a situation where we get two right paths. The two sides of the coin are displayed together. My life stands at a crossroad. One path is the ordinary life that I had, with nightmares, but it is also safeguarding my father’s reputation. The other path leads me to Adam, revealing me to the light, but the intensity of that light is burning everything around it, except me. I’m getting all the benefits and warmth from that light. Should I be selfish, or should I spend my whole life asking for an apology from my father?
I push all these thoughts from my mind and head quietly to the washroom.
I don’t even bother to take a shower, as the noise may wake Adam. I get ready in no time. I take out all the summit information from my bag. It is fifteen minutes’ drive from where I am. I hear Adam’s phone ringing somewhere, so I follow the sound and see ‘unknown’ calling once again. Since he is sleeping, I put his phone on silent and lay it at his side. He is still sleeping peacefully and from the depth of his sleep, I can see he was up late. I look at him lovingly one last time and then leave for my work.
On my way, I decide to send him a text message, so that he doesn’t end up being worried about me once again.
Thank you for understanding—in every way.
I send one more message.
I have left to attend the summit. I will hopefully see you in the evening.
When I reach the Westin hotel, where the summit is, I check my cell, but there is no message from him. Still sleeping! I am a bit disappointed and send him another message.
The summit is about to start. In case you are worried, I behaved like a good girl and had my breakfast. I will also make sure I take my lunch on time. Please don’t worry about me. I am fine. Take care.
I was not expecting so many people to attend the summit. It is a global event, beyond my imagination. I am glad I have dressed extremely formally and professionally. At the entrance, everyone is asked to show their invitations, so that the security can provide badges with the proper names for each individual. There are people from social media companies, telecoms, and other technology-oriented businesses. There is hands-on-training in new technologies in Adobe® and other creative products used for digital marketing and publishing. I hope to learn a great deal about the latest publishing products, which will be extremely helpful to incorporate at Greenway. The summit starts with a small speech from the digital media head. The guy’s name is Ethan Murray. He is an Englishman, tall and handsome, in his late thirties, very high-profile in the technology world. Everyone knows him. I am very lucky to get a seat at one of the front tables. It is a breakthrough in my career to attend this summit, and I feel obliged to Ben for making it happen.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I welcome you all to Adobe® Digital Marketing Summit 2012. The Summit offers an unmatched networking opportunity with your industry peers, to learn how others are tracking current digital marketing challenges.” Mr. Murray sips his coffee. He is dressed perfectly in a black suit and a light gray shirt, and three hundred faces are turned to him. “The summit offers more than seventy breakout sessions, featuring many real-world customer success stories, based on solutions from the Adobe® Digital Marketing Suite. Many sessions will feature in-depth case studies, highlighting best practices from technology experts. Each session will have an emphasis on specific takeaways for attendees to implement immediately. It includes seven different tracks: Digital Analytics, Targeting and Optimization, Web Experience Management, Digital Advertising, Social Marketing, Marketing Innovations, and Tech Labs.” As Mr. Murray continues with his speech, he focuses on each person in turn. He is looking at me when my phone chimes. I completely forgot to put it on ‘silent,’ and since it is ringing loudly, Mr. Murray has to halt his speech for a moment.
Oh shit, this is so embarrassing.
It is Adam on my phone. I had forgotten him for the moment. I put my phone on silent and let it ring. Mr. Murray continues his speech. I’m not paying attention anymore, due to the silent calls coming from Adam. I end his call deliberately and type a text message.
I am at the summit. Your phone call came in the middle of a serious speech by the media head. Sorry for not taking your call. I will see you in the evening.
Within a few seconds, I receive his message.
Sorry to bother you. I am glad you are doing well. I was just worried when I woke up and you were gone. Thanks for leaving the messages on my phone. I look forward to seeing you this evening. Not sure how I will spend my day. I still miss yesterday’s tour.
His message puts a smile on my face.
You are a busy man, Mr. Gibson. I am sure you will have lots of official work to do. There were lots of pretty ladies by the poolside, though. If you get bored, you have plenty of sexy options there.
I send the message, with a winked smile. He replies back instantly.
When did you get a chance to visit the pool? Anyhow, I have an interview with CBC Edmonton within an hour. Is it possible to meet for lunch?
Interview with CBC? Everyone knows he is here? It is useless to ask all the details at the moment, so I decide to keep this discussion for dinner.
I am sorry. I have training the whole day. I don’t think I would be able to come out. See you later. Take care.
“You seem to be distracted this morning.” I hear a familiar voice coming from the next seat. I didn’t realize that in all these exchanges of text messages, the speech has ended and Murray is seated next to me. Some other men from the social media companies are making short speeches after him. “Ethan Murray.” He holds out his hand and I shake hands with him, smiling.
“Rania Ahmed.”
“Rania… that’s a pretty name. Where are you from?”
“I am from Toronto. I work for Greenway Advertising.” I am a bit intrigued.
He speaks with grace and charisma, with a typical British accent. “So, what training do you plan to take today?”
“I plan to take Creative Suite® training. And I am very glad to be part of it. Your speech was very informative.”
“You hardly heard it. Your phone kept you busy.” He cocks one eyebrow. I purse my lips in embarrassment and curse my phone. He observes my expression and continues. “What exactly is your job?”
“I work with the digital media and printing department. Basically, catalog designing and publishing. They are mostly e-catalogs, designed for different operating systems and smart phones.”
“That sounds interesting. So, where did you graduate from?”
“Ryerson University. But digital media was not my field. I studied software engineering, but playing with color was always my passion, so I took some courses and chose this field.” I smile genuinely, feeling good about my choice.
“That’s impressive. You look quite young to have all those talents. Have you planned further study in this field?”
“Yes, Mr. Murray. I’m planning to do a Masters in digital media and graphics, but probably not until next year.”
“Please, call me Ethan. I don’t like to be addressed so formally by a beautiful woman like you.” Murray’s gaze gets deeper as he speaks. I smile back at him, not sure what to say. Luckily, Murray gets distracted by other high-profile people and he excuses himself from his seat to join in their discussion. I head to the training area, where the session has already started. I stay there until lunchtime, learning many new things about the latest tools.
There are many people from Toronto, which makes it much simpler to communicate and learn things, as we share similar interests. In between presentations, we discuss our favorite places in the city. By the time we break for lunch, I’m starving. As soon as I step out of the training area, Murray greets me.
“Good to find you here. I was looking for you.” He blocks my way. I glance at the other people from my training session waiting for me to join them. Murray says, “You guys carry on, if you are going for lunch. Miss Ahmed will join you back for training in an hour.” The two girls look at me dubiously, and everyone leaves. “Please join me for lunch, Miss Ahmed,” Ethan says. “I want you to meet some people. Come.” I follow him silently. The people he wants me to meet may also be well-known in the field, like him. Meeting them could be a great opportunity. We exit the summit hall and enter an exquisite restaurant within the hotel. Murray introduces me to his two colleagues, who work in the same department, and they all launch into a technology-oriented discussion, regarding Creative Cloud™ and its advanced features. I listen to their discussion quietly, while sipping orange jui
ce. I have no idea why Murray has invited me to the lunch, where my presence is not even noticed. After a short discussion, the other men excuse themselves and I am left alone with Murray at a table for four.
“So, what would you like to have, Rania?” He glances at me over his menu.
“I will have Caesar salad and minestrone soup, please.” I look at the waiter, who is ready to take our order.
“That’s it? That is your lunch?” Mr. Murray asks me curiously, and puts the menu card down on the table.
“Yes, please.”
“I will have mustard salmon with cobb salad, please.” Murray hands both the menu cards to the waiter and he departs instantly. “Thank you for joining me for lunch,” he says, adjusting his thick black glasses over his deep gray eyes. “I always enjoy feeding beautiful women.”
“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Murray. I was not expecting, umm—”
“Expect the unexpected,” he interrupts me. “Where are you originally from?”
“I am from Lebanon.” I try to speak to the point. Where is this conversation going? Why am I here? I start to feel uncomfortable about the way Murray is studying my face. We remain silent for a moment, until the waiter appears with my soup and salad and meal for Murray.
“You don’t talk much?”
“I do. It’s not like that.”
“So, is it me, who is making you talk less?”
“No, Mr. Murray. I do talk, but we hardly know each other.”
“Yes, that’s a good point, Rania. That’s why I invited you for lunch. We should get to know each other.” He speaks with confidence, aware of his every word. Luckily, just then I hear my phone vibrating in my handbag.
A Silent Prayer Page 20