“Look at me,” he commanded, but I didn’t dare. I was too afraid of the look in his eyes. “Look at me, Marie. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you’re serious and not just telling a sick joke.”
My eyes found his, and they spoke with tears, but my mouth couldn’t say anything. When Mazen realized I wasn’t going to speak, he did so himself.
“You’re right. I am grieving.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I almost choked, but I couldn’t do anything other than stare into his eyes, wondering if I could find answers to his unexpected reply.
“I’m grieving over a child with you that didn’t get the chance to live,” he said, and I bit my lips, hurt consuming me as the agony covered his voice. “Do you know why I lost my child, Marie?” Mazen’s eyes sparkled with tears, and I hated myself for pushing him so hard.
“Because I was too stupid and helped the devil kill it, along with the children of my brother,” he choked out.
“Mazen,” I whispered his name. “Not that again, please. I beg you to let this go.”
“How can I?”
A lone tear fell down his cheek, and it took everything in me not to hug him so tight right at that moment and ask him to forgive me for what I said. I wanted him to forget everything right then. Pretending and hiding hurt way less than watching him fall apart. This was even worse than the night following the execution.
“How could I let it go, Marie? How? I’ve tried so hard, but it all comes rushing back when I see the miserable look on my brother’s face – and I keep thinking it must be because of what I did.
“How could I forget when I know very well how bad you’ve been hurting, but you’re still hiding your pain from me? How could I do it when you suffer day after day because I was a fool for too long? I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Mazen, please, you have to stop blaming yourself. It. Was. NOT. Your. Fault. How many times do I have to tell you this? Stop blaming yourself because neither I, nor Rosanna, or even your brother is blaming you. It was fate, and we have to move on, please,” I told him, my hands touching his cheeks and my thumbs wiping tears away.
“It’s so hard. I don’t think I can ever get to the point where I can look at myself in the mirror and not remember what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything, angel. Please, believe that.” I said. “The guilt will eat you alive; it’s already taken so much from our lives. Blaming yourself won’t help, breaking glass is not right, and hitting walls won’t make everything better.”
Mazen looked at me with sorrow covering his face. “Sometimes it’s just too much to bear, and it’s all I can do to just breathe.”
“I know that, but seeing you hurting is like having sharp knives being stabbed into my heart,” I told him. “Do you want me to feel that constantly?”
Mazen shook his head. “Never, my princess.”
“So, please, stop it. Do you want me to feel better and forget the pain? Be better. Nothing hurts me more than watching you suffer.”
He nodded slowly, and our eyes stayed locked with each other for a long moment before we hugged tightly. I could swear I felt all of the pain floating away by the second, and I wanted to believe it would stop there.
“You’re my cure,” Mazen said, and I had to smile knowingly.
“And you’re mine, angel.”
As the weeks passed by, Mazen was somewhat getting back to what he used to be. Genuine smiles and warm laughs filled the air as we held each other’s hand and walked through life.
What sealed the deal was when we had dinner with Prince Fahd and Rosanna. It was something that they literally had never done before; men were always separated from women. I had asked Rosanna first if it would be okay, and she didn’t mind, even though she said she’d have to eat with her face cover on, which I didn’t think would be comfortable – but she said she would manage, and she did.
Dinner with my brother and sister-in-law was very nice. I loved our talks, and Prince Fahd has been always kind to me – to everyone, to be fair. He handled everything with solemn determination, but it always returned the best results.
Rosanna was my best friend; we barely went a day without talking to each other, on the phone if we couldn’t meet. I loved her thoughts and enjoyed her company to no end, and she never held back from advising me whenever necessary. I loved her dearly.
When Mazen started seeing their happiness and realized they weren’t as miserable as he’d assumed, he started to get past the guilty thoughts that had consumed his mind. Within days, he really improved, but I had no doubt that just a little bit of depression was still living in his heart.
It was a given that the four of us would never forget it; each one of us was suffering in our own way. But we let go. Because there was always hope for things to get even better than they were now.
On the tenth of November, Mazen got us two days off, and before I knew it, we were jetting off to some unknown place to celebrate his birthday, which was the next day. He had tricked me into making him pick out his birthday gift – spending those days with me. I was very pleased with the idea, very excited about getting away from everything and just being with Mazen. It was a much, much-needed break.
My shock was evident on my face when we landed. It was the last place I had expected for Mazen to take me.
“Mazen, we’re in New York,” I said.
I heard his soft chuckle. “I know that, princess. You don’t seem excited, though.”
“Please, tell me I don’t have to work.”
“Of course not, my crazy princess!” Mazen said. “This visit is more hush-hush than you can imagine. Only a handful of people know we’re here, and that’s for security reasons only.”
I sighed in relief. “Good to know. It’s the only thing I do here – work, work, work!”
“No. No work. I’ve only been here a few times, and this is the first time I’ve come with you. I want you to show me around, take us to your favorite places and get us your favorite foods from your favorite restaurants.” Mazen came even closer to me and whispered in my ear, “I also want to sleep in your bed, touch you in your tub, taste you on your kitchen counter, and maybe test how strong every wall in your house is.”
His heavy, warm breaths sent waves of lust down my spine, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head as the images of what he was saying sweetly assaulted my mind.
I spent the ride to my house counting in my head how many walls I had.
My breaths were heavy, and my moans filled the air as Mazen’s fingers thrust in and out of me. His own breaths as he whispered the most erotic words in my ears were enough to drive me right over the edge.
“Let me feel you,” he panted. “Let me feel you coming all over my fingers, Marie.” His thumb swept over my clit, and I did just as he told me, coming all over his fingers and screaming in joy as he bit my neck in the most delicious way.
Mazen’s lips stayed on my skin all the while as I rode out my post-orgasmic bliss, kissing my neck, my jawline, and the top of my chest.
I reached out to touch his erection when I felt it rubbing my hipbone as Mazen laid half on the bed and half on top of me, but he stopped me.
I raised my head in surprise. “Wh–…”
“Shhh, just relax, beautiful princess,” Mazen interrupted my question, “This time is only about you.” He smiled, and then kissed my shoulder.
“But you– …”
“I’m fine,” he interrupted again, “relax.” His voice was very soothing that I couldn’t help but rest my head back on the pillow and close my eyes, enjoying his touches and the soft brushes of his lips.
True to his words, we’d spent the past day-and-a-half making love on every surface we could use in my house. It was a honeymoon all over again; as a matter of fact, every day with Mazen was a holiday.
“You drive me crazy, birthday boy,” I said with my eyes closed as I felt his lips on my breast.
“Likewise, my princess.” He kissed wherever his lips la
nded, and I thought I would never have enough of him. “We only have seven hours left before we have to leave, so we should get out of the house, you know?”
My eyes were suddenly wide open. We’d done everything Mazen had said other than getting out of the house. Well, we couldn’t get food from my favorite restaurant because it didn’t offer Halal food and that’s the only thing Muslims could eat, but we managed vegetarian meals, and it was all great.
I had hoped that Mazen wouldn’t mention my favorite place because I really didn’t have any. But since he did, I wasn’t going to hide anything and was going to tell him my true feelings.
I made a move to get up so Mazen would back away, pulling the white sheets up to my chest. I sat up on the bed, which made Mazen do the same so we would be eye-to-eye. He knew I wanted to say something.
“Uh, … Mazen, I … I really don’t know where to take you?” I said, my words sounding more like a question.
“Is that a question?” Mazen’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. It was apparent I was a bit nervous.
“I guess?” I did it again which had Mazen laughing. He pinched my chin lovingly then spoke, “Just say it, Marie.”
“See, I really didn’t go out much in the past fifteen years, other than school or work,” I said, stuttering a bit. It was embarrassing to confess that I’d been living in a bubble since I was nine, up until my parents passed away and I had to go and take care of their business.
“What?” Mazen looked confused.
“Mazen, the only fun things I did were with you in London and what came after it. Before that … it was just work.”
“Are you serious?”
“Pretty much,” I nodded. “I only had my grandmother and she didn’t like to go out much. I didn’t have friends, so …” I looked down, embarrassed to admit how miserable I was before he came into my life. Heck, my only friend back then was my secretary.
“Okay,” Mazen said. “I understand that, but you must’ve had a favorite place to go to.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “It was always home,” I said, leaving out the part about how I was always anxious around people I didn’t know.
“I see,” he said, seemingly distant. “I’ve always wanted to meet your grandmother. Do you think it would be okay if we pay her a visit?”
Uh-oh.
To be honest, I was thoroughly nervous, not knowing how my grandmother would react to Mazen’s presence. But I didn’t want to disappoint Mazen, who looked awfully excited about meeting her. I also couldn’t deny the thrill of having Mazen meet a family member of mine who wasn’t a jerk, or who’d had sex with his teenage sister and pointed a gun to my head to force marriage on me.
But that wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now.
“Will we be all right with just four guards?” Mazen was better at knowing when it came to things like that. Or maybe I only wanted a distraction from my anxious thoughts.
“It would be best if none of them were with us, since we wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention, but four is going to be fine. No one knows we’re here anyway,” Mazen said.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I offered him a nervous smile.
My grandmother’s memory was mostly stuck at a time when things were peaceful in her life, before she’d lost my grandfather or my mother. She was always waiting for my grandfather to come home from work, and for a phone call from my mother who was studying far away. This was her safe zone, a way for her mind to protect itself from crushing heartbreak.
It had been years since my grandmother recognized me as her granddaughter, the one whom she raised and loved unconditionally. That made me unspeakably sad, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of right now. It was what she would do when she met Mazen.
My grandmother was another version of the ‘pre-Mazen’ me. It was embarrassing to admit, even to myself – for so many reasons.
She was the sweetest and kindest person I’d ever known, but she’d gotten her facts wrong, and had taught me her beliefs and the truth as she knew it. It had taken a lot for me to find my black keys; she never even had the chance to find hers. I was afraid she would offend Mazen in some way, which would hurt me deeply.
I was glad that Mazen had dressed casually and I didn’t have to wonder what her reaction would be if he wore his usual garb. I was never going to tell him to change out of his thawb, if that was what he chose to wear. I would never want him to think that I was ashamed of him or his origins. I never would.
I took pride in who I’d married, and it wasn’t because he was a king. No, it was because I was married to the most compassionate and caring person I’d ever met.
Mazen taught me to live in the moment, which helped a lot with my anxiety over time. That was what I had been doing since we’d agreed to pay my grandmother a visit. I tried to shrug the bad thoughts away, went on with my day, and hoped for the best.
The uneasy feeling about the whole visit was probably showing on my face, but I tried to hide it with my smile as we hopped out of the car. Our guards, who had been in another vehicle, were waiting for us by the doors.
Our pace was fast as we walked through the lobby to my grandmother’s room. Everyone greeted Mazen and me with cheerful faces and bright smiles, though I doubted anyone could recognize Mazen – he had sunglasses and a cap on – but I had a feeling the staff had strict orders not to bother us.
The first few times I’d come here after I became a queen were chaotic. Hopefully, no one was taking pictures this time.
With a deep breath followed by a smile to my Mazen, I grasped the knob and swung the door open.
My smile grew as I saw the woman whom I loved so much sitting at her usual spot by the window, her head turned to gaze at the beautiful garden outside her room. Her white hair was lying neatly over her shoulders, as she swayed her rocking chair ever so slowly, seemingly lost in her thoughts.
Her head turned to look in my direction when she heard us come in, and my smile grew as our eyes locked. Oh, how I’ve missed her. It had been a month since we’d last seen each other, but it already felt like it was too long to me. I didn’t know if she felt the same way since time didn’t actually make any sense to her, given her condition.
“Marie!” My grandmother’s smile was wide as were her eyes, and my heart instantly warmed just at the sound of her sweet voice.
“Hey ther–” I stopped mid-sentence, my smile dropping and my eyes widening in shock. “Wait, what did you just call me?”
“Marie, come here, my sweet pumpkin, I’ve missed you so much!” She opened her arms in an invitation to hug her, and I accepted that invitation and ran to her.
I couldn’t contain my happiness as I threw myself into her arms with force. I was probably hurting her, but I didn’t even think about that. My tears escaped as a rush of mixed emotions filled my chest; I couldn’t even describe it.
“Mama!” I cried. “You know who I am!”
I couldn’t remember the last time that my grandmother had remembered me – it had been a long time. She always thought I was my mother, and sometimes, she didn’t acknowledge me at all. I loved visiting and talking to her, but I couldn’t deny that each and every time I left her, it was with a heavy heart and disappointment.
Right now, I couldn’t hold back my tears, nor my smiles. I couldn’t even contain my gushes. I was so happy and overwhelmed.
“Of course, I know who you are, silly! Do you think I would forget you just because you never visit anymore?” she said. It was as though nothing had ever happened to her, and for a second my mind wanted to believe that she was perfectly fine and cured.
There was no explanation for her to remember me all of a sudden. I knew Alzheimer’s had no cure, but I was also told that some days were better than others. Since today was a good day – I was going to make the best of it.
“I’m sorry, Mama, I just–” I started to apologize but my grandmother interrupted me.
“Don’t be sorry, sweet pumpkin; I know you’re busy wit
h college. Abee calls me all the time, don’t worry.” She smiled as she told me she understood that studying was taking all of my time, and that my mother still called her daily.
My heart broke as I heard her words, and more tears fell as I knelt in front of her, but I wiped them away and smiled. I didn’t care what period of her life her mind had decided to be living in today. I was grateful that she at least remembered that I was in her life, which was so much better than all of those years when she didn’t know I existed at all.
“Yes, Mama, it’s school. I’m sorry. I’m glad Mom calls you.” I smiled at her and she hugged me one more time, even tighter this time.
The warmth I felt being this close to my grandmother was like waves and waves of positive energy and light were poured straight over my head. I wanted to tell her a million things, but, at the same time, didn’t know what to say.
It was always hard and stressful whenever I tried to tell her about current things or wanted to force her mind to remember me, so I always just went with however she wanted to remember me. Her doctors told me it was for the best.
“Who is he?” my grandmother’s question cut the silence and I broke our embrace as I suddenly remembered that we weren’t alone.
My head turned to look at my angel, seeing that he was standing a few steps away from my grandmother and me. I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that I’d completely forgotten that my husband was right there next to me.
“Oh, sorry.” I got up, wiping my tears and smiling nervously. I reached for Mazen’s hand and then I held it in mine as I introduced him to her, “Mama, this is Mazen, my–”
“Friend,” Mazen interrupted me. I looked at him with a question in my eyes, and he answered my silent question with a look that told me that he ‘got this’.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” He smiled, offering her his free hand, which she took.
Her smile was careful as she looked him up and down, and I swallowed thickly, anxious again about her reaction. “Mazen? What kind of name is that? French? But you have a British accent,” she said. My heart was beating fast as I heard her asking many so questions in one breath. “Which I might add, I could listen to all day long,”
Golden Chains (The Colorblind Trilogy Book 3) Page 5
