A Silent Prayer

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A Silent Prayer Page 27

by Samreen Ahsan


  ACCEPTANCE

  ♀

  “Rania, wake up.” I hear Adam’s voice. I open my eyes and he looks straight at me. “Wake up, princess. You’re home.”

  “Did I fall sleep?” I gape in surprise. He looks at me with a smile in his eyes. He takes me out of the car and we enter the building. I have no idea if he is coming upstairs with me or just dropping me at my door. I stay quiet and go with the flow. I know he is drunk, and it is better he should go home after dropping me. I enter my apartment and he follows me. I sense from his body movements that he doesn’t intend to leave right away. When I go into my living area, he grabs my hand and pushes me down on the sofa. He sits on an ottoman, facing me, and looks deeply into my eyes.

  I feel he wants to say something, but he is struggling with the words. He locks his gaze on me and takes both my hands in his, touching them to his lips. He doesn’t kiss my hands, but his lips rest on my knuckles and he closes his eyes, not speaking at all. I stay still, not sure what to say. He opens his eyes for a moment and I see tears clouding them. Oh my God! Is he crying? I feel his tears on my skin. He sobs into my hands, and there is nothing for me to say. Finally, he kisses both my hands and places them on his eyes, as if he is holding a sacred and holy thing that will soothe them. He repeats the motion a couple of times, kissing my knuckles and rubbing them over his eyes. He has locked my hands so tightly in his that I cannot even free them to wipe his tears, but he manages to wipe them with my hands. When he has stopped crying, he looks at me with watery eyes.

  “Thank you for everything, Rania.” He kisses my knuckles one more time and rubs them over his eyes. “I didn’t know I was blessed with the greatest gift from God. I believe in Him now. I know He exists and He has sent you to me, to guide me.” He touches my hands with his warm lips and speaks through them. “I was living in the dark. The light you showed me today…” He kisses my hands again. “I would have spent the rest of my life hating her. I didn’t know I was hurting her so much. Thank you for protecting me from the sin I have been committing since childhood.” Oh! He is talking about Grace.

  “You bring everything good into my life. I feel like you’re living in me now, as a part of me. I am as much as you are, Rania. No more. No less. I begin with you and I end at you. Please don’t ever leave me.” He puts his head down on my lap, hiding his face, and whispers from there. “Thank you for taking out all the thorns from my life. Thank you for giving me what I missed all my life.” He pauses for a moment. “You are an answer to all my silent prayers.”

  He is not declaring clearly that he loves me, but whatever he just said is more than I imagined in my life. My heart swells so painfully that I fear it will burst out in front of him. He still rests his head on my lap, pressed over my hands. I take out one hand and rake my fingers through his hair. He digs his head into my lap with physical force, as I run my fingers again and again through his hair. Right now, his body tells me he only wants warmth from me. He turns his head to the side, taking my other hand from under his head and entwining his fingers in mine. “I don’t want to stay alone tonight.” He sits up and looks at me pleadingly. “Can I sleep here?” His eyes are reddened with tears and dazed with alcohol, but right now he is too emotional to take out his alcoholic urges on me. He wants a friend, with whom he can share his heart and seek comfort. I can’t say no to him, so I smile at him in agreement. “Thank you.” He gets up and I look at him quizzically. “Let me get my night clothes from the car.” He leaves the apartment immediately.

  Did he plan to stay with me tonight? It is not the first time that he has spent the night with me, but somehow today it seems odd. Maybe because it was always me who had been emotional in the past. It is hard to accept him being as sensitive as he is tonight. I rush to my washroom to change my clothes. It has been a tiring evening. I am very happy Adam has met his family. They are all incredible, and extremely loving at heart. I wonder why he avoided them for so long. Perhaps he did not know what he was missing, and that is why meeting them tonight made him so emotional.

  When I come back after changing into my nightclothes, I see Adam gazing at the shooting star picture hanging behind the dining table. He looks at me and then back to the picture.

  “What is this Arabian Nights?” he asks, still gazing at it.

  “It’s a book with compilation of many stories for one thousand and one nights, based on old Arabic and Persian folk tales.”

  “Interesting. Have you read it?”

  “I have been reading them since my childhood. Different authors have translated the stories in different ways. It is always interesting to read the different interpretations.”

  “What is it about?” Why he is still lost in the picture?

  “It’s about King Sheharyar. Having been betrayed by his wife, he promises himself to hate women for the rest of his life. He marries every night, a new virgin from his kingdom, and executes her at sunrise. He keeps on doing it until all the virgins in his kingdom are dead. His vizier has a wise daughter name Sheharzaad, who asks her father if she can marry King Sheharyar and stop him from doing this sin. Her father warns her that if she fails, the king will also hang her at sunrise. So they get married and when the King enters her bedroom, she starts with a story. The whole night, the king listens to the story intently and is captivated by his new wife, as she is a very good storyteller. When the sunrise comes, her story is incomplete, so the king has no choice but to delay her execution until the next night, when she will finish her story.” I pause for a moment and Adam looks at me with keen interest. “So every night, Sheharzaad continues with a story, but doesn’t finish it before sunrise, so Sheharyar keeps on delaying her death order. They are completely fictitious and magical stories within stories, blended together, and she doesn’t stop for one thousand and one nights. That’s all it is about.” I smile at Adam, finishing my explanation.

  “Can you read it to me tonight? I’d like to hear it.” He looks at me pleadingly.

  “It’s too long, Adam. It doesn’t end in one night.”

  “I will be King Sheharyar and listen to my Sheharzaad for one thousand and one nights. How about that?” He looks at me intensely.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Yes, Rania. I’m damn serious. I want to hear the stories.” He steps toward me, which makes me take a step back.

  “I can give you a hard copy. You can read it yourself.”

  “I want to hear it from your beautiful mouth. The way you have started the story, I will only listen to it from you and no one else.” He moves closer to me with his drunken eyes. I keep backing up until I reach the wall. He puts his one hand over my head, completely surrounding me with his presence. He lifts his other hand to touch my face and my body starts to shiver at his touch. His hand is under my ear, caressing my cheek with his thumb. Where do I go? Where do I run?

  He is making me so nervous. Why does my body become so bloody weak, whenever he touches me? Why does my body betray my mind when he looks at me like that? It is as if this body has only longed for this forbidden fruit to sate its appetite. All these years I have avoided this feeling; yet, he comes into my life in a totally different way, and touches every part of my body without touching it. How does he do that?

  “You make everything sound so magical. I want to experience the same magic with you in these stories. Will you read it to me?” I don’t see any lust in his eyes. Just tenderness and sensitivity in his voice and gaze. I avert my eyes and look at the floor.

  “I will get the book.” I escape from the bondage created by his presence, and head to my bedroom to fetch the book. He follows and stands behind me to look at my bookshelf. “I have a hard copy, as well as one on my e-reader. Which one do you want me to read?”

  “I think it might be better to read from your e-reader. I’ll hold it for you, and we can switch off the lights and read it in darkness, right?” Oh my! What does he intend to do besides
listening?

  His sudden question makes me nervous as hell, but I pretend to stay calm. I should trust him. If he has promised to protect me, then there is no way he will harm me. I pick up my book reader and Adam excuses himself so he can go and change his clothes. I sit on the bed and he returns in a few minutes and sits next to me, after turning off all the lights and lamps. We are in complete darkness; just the light from my book reader is glowing. He tucks both of us under the comforter, puts his arm around me and snuggles me in his embrace. My body starts to warm up as soon as he wraps his arms around me. His musky masculine fragrance diffuses in my blood like a drug and engages all my senses. His back rests on the headboard, and my head and back rest on his chest. I can easily hear his heart beating against my back, but I hope he isn’t listening to my heart, which is pounding like a drum from this closeness. At least, reading this way, he will not see my face and his intense gaze won’t throw me off track.

  He caresses my arms softly, and goose bumps rise all over my body. I feel a jolt of electricity, even though our skins are separated by fabric. The wobbly fabric is no protection against his stimulating heat. It is as helpless as me, as his touch takes me to the world of fantasy. A world where no past haunts me, where Adam and I are floating in a paradise of pleasure—a paradise which has this forbidden fruit. I imagine crossing to the other side of the line where he is waiting for me to savor it. I long to touch him, feel him, to engrave this fruit on every inch of my body. I imagine his teeth grazing my neck; his hands run down to the small of my back as he separates the poor fabric from my skin. He touches me everywhere, without touching me at all. I am on the cusp of losing control, when I hear his voice bursting my bubble.

  “Rania?” Shit. Shit. Shit. What was I thinking?

  “Huh?”

  “You have something on your mind.” It is not a question; it’s a damn statement. Why do I keep forgetting he is a powerful mind reader?

  “I really liked Eva. I am glad she is recovered from what happened to her.” I divert the topic. Where the fuck was I?

  “Hmm. She is more annoying now.” Adam almost whispers in my ear. I don’t realize his face was so close to me until he speaks. His voice burns my nape and burrows deep down to my nerves, splitting them apart. “If you get tired, let me know. I will stop,” I inform him gently, opening the book in my book reader. And I am losing control.

  “Hmm.” His voice is sleepy. I don’t know why he wants to listen to the story right now. I hear his heart pounding against me, but I ignore it and start to read.

  “In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! Praise be to God, the Lord of the two worlds, and blessing and peace upon the Prince of the Prophets, our lord and master Muhammad, whom God blesses and preserves with abiding and continuing peace and blessing until the Day of the Faith! Of a verity, the doings of the ancients become a lesson to those that follow after, so that men look upon the admonitory events that have happened to others and take warning, and come to the knowledge of what befell bygone peoples and are restrained thereby. So glory be to Him who hath appointed the things that have been done aforetime for an example to those that come after! And of these admonitory instances are the histories called the Thousand Nights and One Night, with all their store of illustrious fables and relations.”

  I tap my reader and begin the story.

  “It is recorded in the chronicles of the things that have been done of time past that there lived once, in the olden days and in bygone ages and times, a king of the kings of the sons of Sasan, who reigned over the Islands of India and China and was lord of armies and guards and servants and retainers. He had two sons, an elder and a younger, who were both valiant cavaliers, but the elder was a stouter horseman than the younger. When their father died, he left his empire to his elder son, whose name was Sheharyar, and he took the government and ruled his subjects justly, so that the people of the country and of the empire loved him well, whilst his brother Shahzeman became King of Samarcand of Tartary . . .”

  I continue reading my stories within stories, confirming with Adam from time to time whether he is listening to me. It is already past three, but Adam is completely engrossed in the story. I keep on reading, and don’t remember when I finally fall into sleep.

  * * *

  I wake up; it is around ten in the morning, and Adam is gone. I assume he must have woken up and left, to take care of whatever business he usually does on Sundays. I feel too lazy to get out of bed, but I grab my phone from the nightstand where it is sitting with my book reader. I’m hoping Adam left me a message. In fact, he left two.

  You fell asleep and left me hanging, right at the beginning of a story about an ensorcelled prince.

  I smile at that.

  You are an amazing reader. You bring out all the expression of the author. What fool would read from the book, if he has you?

  He makes me feel more and more blessed. I know Adam expresses every thought that comes into his head. Sometimes, I’m jealous that he can communicate so easily. I always want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel, but words fail me. I know that what he feels for me is more than just friendship, but the good thing is that he has not admitted it. Or, more accurately, he knows I am not ready to accept his feelings.

  I step into the living room and find Adam busy in the kitchen. He gives me his million-dollar smile.

  “Good morning, beautiful. You slept well?”

  “Yes, I did. Thanks to you. No nightmares.”

  He parks a kiss on my forehead. “Are you okay with scrambled eggs? That’s the only thing I know how to make.”

  “Are you making breakfast?” I look at him in surprise. He glances at me with a nod and starts beating the eggs. “Adam Gibson, cooking for me? It’s a privilege.”

  “Stop saying my name like that. I feel like you’re making fun of me.” He takes a deep breath. “It creates distance between us.” He doesn’t look at me, but his words travel down to my heart. I watch him making tea and toasting bread, and scrambling the eggs. He watches me watching him. “The last time I made breakfast was for my father. I never cooked anything after he died.” He pretends to be casual, but I see the pain in his eyes. He goes silent after that and I don’t speak a word until he serves everything on the breakfast bar. I sit next to him on a bar stool and start the meal.

  He says, “If you hadn’t been there last night, I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to hear the truth. I guess my father felt too guilty to tell me. Though he never said that Mom left him for Brian, I assumed she did. I had no idea that my hatred and anger was hurting my mother so much.” He doesn’t say anything else during the meal. When he sees I’m finished, he swivels my bar stool and scoots it toward him. “There is nothing left in my life that you don’t know. And you know things about me no one else knows. You are my only friend, Rania.” He looks intently at me and I can see from his eyes he is speaking the truth. I lift the corner of my mouth in a smile, to let him know I accept what he said. “I believe trust is a two-way street. I have traveled far on my side, but when I see you…” He seems to be reading my face deeply. “Your road is blocked.” I look down into my lap, not sure how to react. I know where he is heading—he wants to know about my past. He thinks that me hiding things means that I don’t trust him as much as he trusts me. I can see hurt in his eyes, but there is nothing I can do about it. How can I tell him that I am bound not to speak the truth to anyone?

  He continues, “I want to remove all the stones from your road, but when I try to, you just add more.” He’s still reading my face, but I am unable to look at him.

  “Didn’t I tell you, the first time we met, that I can’t offer you anything?” I speak in a low whisper. “I was clear about that, Adam, but you still accepted it. So why are you changing your mind now?”

  “I’m not forcing you into anything.” He closes his eyes for a moment, then looks at me again. “If at any time you want
someone to remove those stones from your road, please call me. I will wait forever, if necessary.” His words diffuse in my blood, making my heart swell so much that I am unable to find space to breathe within me. It will always be you, Adam, and no one else. I’ve never trusted anyone so much in my life. He watches me carefully, but I keep my face down. There is an awkward silence between us until he speaks again.

  “Do you trust me, Rania?” I still look down, but I nod. “You know that no matter what happens, I will not harm you or go against your will?” I acknowledge him again. He takes a deep breath and continues. “If I ask you to…” He looks away, seeming to have difficulty speaking. “. . . to move in with me, would you accept?”

  This time he doesn’t take his eyes off me, but waits patiently for me to speak. I look away to avoid his true feelings, but don’t say a word. Does he know what he is asking? I’m not his partner or his girlfriend. Why would he want me to move in with him?

  “I don’t know how you’ve been living alone for five years, relying on those pills. I realize you didn’t get a roommate because you don’t want to let anyone know about your nightmares. I can’t leave you alone, Rania. It kills me.” He tilts his head down to focus on my face properly, but I close my eyes to hide my pain. “I’m not asking you to give up this apartment. You can always come back, if you don’t feel safe with me, but…”

  “It’s not right, Adam. I am committing a sin every day, letting you sleep next to me, but after all those years of living with nightmares, I’m too selfish to stop. I never ask you to leave, because I know you are the only one who can guard me against my nightmares.” I shake my head in distress. “I don’t know how you are doing it, but I can’t let myself be even more selfish. I know you want me to move in for me and not for yourself, but I just can’t do that to you.” I inhale sharply and pause for a moment. “Every time you touch me, I feel clearly how you feel about me. I know it is not just friendship, Adam, and I cannot give you any more than this. I’m sorry.” I look in his eyes. “There are no stones in my way. I am bound with ropes, and I’m the only one who can unwind them. But whenever I try to untangle them, it becomes more complicated than before.” He still looks at me mutely, so I continue. “I want you to know that if I ever manage to separate all my ropes, I will travel on your road and no one else’s. That is the only promise I can give you.”

 

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