Cahpter 40
JASMINE
On the third outfit change of yet another photo shoot, I didn’t even feel the fake smiles anymore. My face was on autopilot, just giving the photographer what he asked for without any conscious thought involved.
“Beautiful, Jasmine.” A flurry of clicks echoed through the studio. “Tilt your chin a little. Perfect!” More clicks. “Okay, now turn.”
I shifted my weight, looked over my shoulder, and produced that same practiced, aloof smile I’d been using for years. It had never been more detached from what was happening in my head than it was right now, but thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
The photographer beamed at me and a few more clicks followed before he lowered his camera. “Alright, let’s take a five-minute break and reset.”
Relief swept through me. I relaxed my cheeks, stepping away from the lights, feeling like I was finally free to breathe again. One of the assistants handed me a bottle of water while the photographer barked orders to prepare the next setup.
Despite the flurry of activity all around me, I felt strangely isolated as I cracked open the bottle and brought it to my lips. It had been like this ever since my mom had arrived in Sharm El-Sheikh to give me the news I’d known was coming.
That didn’t make it feel any less like I was suddenly moving through life in a haze, though. These days, it felt like there was some kind of invisible barrier between me and the world, like I was a ghost who could interact with things but couldn’t quite exist in the same space as anyone else.
“Jasmine, touch-ups,” Sasha called, and I drifted to my seat at the vanity, lowering myself into it without saying a word. Her features pinched with worry as she looked down at me, but she didn’t ask, simply handing over my phone. “It’s been buzzing. I thought you might want to check it.”
I nodded, accepting the device and unlocking it to find a string of messages waiting from my brother.
Rami: Joseph just called. Isaac signed the contract.
Rami: It’s official. Dad just received a copy. It looks like we’re good to go.
Rami: Somebody’s getting married!
The next few messages were only emojis, party faces, and grins. I smiled and locked the phone again, handing it back to Sasha. It had been nice of him to let me know, but as relieved as I was, I wouldn’t be celebrating with them.
I exhaled a shaky breath and dragged in another.
My eyes slid shut as I tried to process that I’d done it.
Whatever happened to me, at least Isaac and Joseph had what they’d worked so hard for.
The project was theirs. Isaac would finally be able to start over under his own steam, building a career I already knew was going to be magnificent.
And the same was true for Joseph. Zara’s family might even consider him for her now, which was awesome.
It also hurt a lot more than I’d expected, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on that. I’d made my choices and everything was proceeding exactly the way it was supposed to. David had held up his end of the bargain, Isaac had finally accepted my decision, and everyone was going to be happy.
Everyone except me.
For the rest of the shoot, I felt even more like I was floating inside a bubble of despair, but I did my part, ensuring the photographers got the shots they needed for whatever we were shooting today. I honestly didn’t even know.
This afternoon, I had a dress fitting for the first round of engagement stuff, and now that Isaac had signed, the only thing left for me to do was show up and look pretty. I could stop worrying about him. At least, I could try.
Once we were done for the day, I put my own clothes back on and left the studio without saying goodbye to anyone.
Mom had offered to come with me today, and as I walked into the bridal atelier occupying the entire top of floor of one of Cairo’s oldest buildings, I sort of wished I’d taken her up on her offer.
My flats moved soundlessly across the marble floors.
Bolts of silk lined the walls and seamstresses beamed as soon as they saw me.
One approached, sweeping a hand toward an elegant, curtained sitting area at the back.
“Right this way, Miss Saad,” she said happily. “Welcome. We’re very excited you chose us for this most auspicious occasion.”
I nodded, but tears were suddenly stinging the backs of my eyes.
Despite that, I followed her to a fitting room and stepped onto a raised little platform.
Over the years, I’d worn dozens of couture gowns, and usually, I enjoyed every second of the process.
This time, as layers and layers of silk were wrapped around me, it felt so wrong that I sniffled my way through the fitting.
One of the seamstresses knelt to pin the hem while another adjusted the sleeves, murmuring about beadwork.
A few times, they stopped to ask for my opinion, but I just shrugged, barely even aware of what I looked like right now. Instead, I kept wondering why Isaac had taken so long to sign and whether he’d hesitated after he’d picked up the pen. I also wondered how much he’d hated me as he’d done it.
“Miss Saad?” one of the seamstresses said gently. “Are you okay?”
I blinked myself out of my thoughts and faked a smile. “Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
She glanced down at my arm and I realized then that I’d been gripping the fabric so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. My cheeks flushed as I slowly let go and cleared my throat. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“No apology necessary.” She smiled kindly. “Would you like to take a break?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Let’s just get this over with.”
If I stopped now, I was liable to start running, and once I started, I was afraid I would keep going, disappearing to someplace no one would ever find me. Thankfully, the women nodded and kept working, silently pinning the dress while I kept sniffling and trying to bite back tears.
Eventually, one of them rose and discreetly handed me a handkerchief. I accepted it gratefully, dabbing at my eyes when I realized the tears were coming anyway, despite how hard I was trying to hold them back.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry about this. The dress is lovely.”
She lowered her voice. “You know, there are ways of getting rid of a husband you don’t like.”
My eyebrows shot up and she looked back at me with the most perfectly innocent expression on her face. I burst out laughing and gave the woman a quick hug. “You are a sweetheart, but I probably won’t poison anyone. Mostly because prison food is probably terrible.”
She smiled and patted my hand. “That’s probably a sensible choice.”
Another reluctant laugh escaped me, but I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to stem the flow of tears welling in them. This was ridiculous.
I’d agreed to marry David. It wasn’t like I was a victim of an arrangement I’d had no choice in.
I just didn’t really know him. We hadn’t sat down and talked about the future, or children, or where we’d live.
I didn’t know if he snored or even whether he’d expect me to share a bed with him at all.
It was absurd to think that I would be committing to spending the rest of my life with a man I’d never even had a decent, proper conversation with.
Everything about this felt weird and uncomfortable, like I’d accidentally wandered into someone else’s life or gotten stuck in my own worst nightmare. I had to pretend to be happy in this alternate reality. At least in public.
When the seamstresses were finally done, they stepped back to admire their work.
“Perfect,” said the one who had offered me advice. “What do you think?”
I slowly turned my gaze to the mirror, seeing a woman in the reflection who looked exactly like Jasmine Saad was supposed to. Elegant, sophisticated, and painfully beautiful. I just didn’t recognize her as myself right now.
“You’ve outdone yourself,” I assured them tearfully, stepping off the little platform just as the bell above the door chimed.
A man in dusty work boots walked in carrying a little paper bag. His shirt was faded and there was a streak of grease across one forearm, but when the older seamstress turned and saw him, her whole face lit up.
“Darling! What are you doing here?”
“I managed to escape,” he replied gruffly, striding right over with eyes only for her. “I wanted to bring you a treat.”
He handed over the paper bag, leaning over to kiss her forehead without even the slightest hesitation.
It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a man who obviously worked a blue-collar job bringing his wife something to eat and stealing a kiss in the middle of a workday, but seeing it nearly broke me.
I stifled a sob and quickly hurried toward the changing room, allowing one of the other seamstresses to help me out of the dress before racing home. I barely managed to keep it together as I rushed into my building.
As I went inside, however, I wondered why Hassan didn’t open the door, but as soon as I looked up, I realized it was because he was distracted. By my sister.
“Deja?” I blinked hard, certain that my eyes were playing tricks on me. “What are you doing here?”
She cut herself off mid-sentence and turned away from Hassan, her smile vanishing as her eyes met mine. “Oh, sweetheart. Of course, I’m here. I came as soon as I could.”
When she opened her arms, I broke down, running into them. Everything I’d been holding back came out as choked, heart-wrenching sobs. I buried my face in her shoulder and she held me, rubbing slow circles across my back.
“I know, baby,” she whispered. “I know. Just let it all out.”
I wasn’t sure what she thought she knew or how she’d gotten here at the exact moment I’d needed her most, but I clung to her, crying rivers of tears that lasted until long after she’d led me up to my apartment and climbed right in my bed with me.
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and cradled my head to her chest, holding me until the tears finally subsided.
When she did let go, it was only to get me a glass of water. I took it from her as she climbed back in my bed. My back was resting against the headboard and she sat down to face me this time.
“What are you thinking?” she asked. “I can fly you back to Chicago with me right now if that’s what you want.”
I shook my head, lowering my gaze to the water I still hadn’t even taken a sip of. “You have no idea how much I want to, but I can’t, Deja. I have to go marry him. There is no other option.”
She was quiet for a long moment, but then she scooted closer and pulled me into her arms again. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it.”
I nodded, knowing it was true, but even that couldn’t touch the ache that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. “I don’t want to get through it. I just want to run away, but I can’t, and it feels like it might actually be killing me.”