Chapter 14 #4
It was a very short entry, about the Lord of Jaffa and Ashkelon and his achievements and titles.
This did not sound quite right to me—after all, my Jean was Count of Arsur, but maybe later on in his life he also became the Lord of Jaffa and Ashkelon?
I proceeded to the second entry, which was longer and more detailed.
“Jean of Ibelin (c. 1179–1236), called the Old Lord of Beirut, was a powerful Crusader noble in the thirteenth century, one of the best-known representatives of the influential Ibelin family … He served as regent and constable of the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Cyprus …”
I speed-read the messy description of Jean’s father.
The cigarette slipped between my fingers.
The entry included a quote mentioning the castle in Beirut, which sounded exactly as Jean had described it.
Nothing was written about his family. I clicked on the corresponding entry in English, which immediately displayed the Ibelin coat of arms: a broad red cross against a golden background.
I quickly scrolled to the part about his family and there, black against the screen, appeared the name of my Jean, Lord of Arsuf.
With a beating heart and a pressing sensation against the inside of my eyes, I clicked on the entry, “Jean d’Ibelin, Lord of Arsuf. ”
“Working?” asked Halimi from behind me.
I leaped in surprise and turned to him with a smile that might have been overly broad.
“Yes, I need to do a little research for the French book,” I said casually.
Halimi lit a cigarette and stood with his back to me, leaning against the railing of the balcony and gazing at the horizon.
I did not leave and take Lily to my parents’ place the day after Halimi and I had our big fight about Nina.
The doctor diagnosed her with strep throat, and she was very sick for the next four days.
My red eyes and exhaustion were probably chalked up to parental concern—disproportionate, if common.
Not only did I not leave Halimi; I didn’t even have the strength to tell him to get out.
I was afraid to be alone with my worries and Lily’s illness.
I was so worn out, I barely had the strength to do basic things—eat, shower, make Lily swallow her medicine.
Apart from that, the apartment had originally been his.
I knew that this was stupid, but I was unable to kick him out of his own home, an apartment that he continued to pay for himself despite my pathetic attempts to contribute to the rent.
“So. Tell me exactly how and when it started,” I said suddenly on one of those long days, when Lily had finally fallen asleep after a particularly harsh coughing fit followed by crying.
Halimi had ordered delivery from the coffee shop, and we ate in the living room in tense silence.
I had no idea if he had told Nina that he’d been caught or what they had agreed between them.
I continued to follow her profiles like a woman possessed, and there had been no notable drop in her mood or the remarkable quantity of selfies.
Halimi pushed his plate away with a frown.
“I will never understand your obsession with knowing everything,” he said coolly.
Without saying a word, I collected the plates, took them to the kitchen, washed them, and went to the bedroom. I got under the duvet. I knew I needed to look for a proper job. And find a divorce lawyer. And an apartment. I sighed and turned over.
“Ditush,” Halimi came into the room and sat down beside me.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll tell you.” He stopped and gently pulled the blanket from over my head.
“I just don’t want to hurt you even more.
I promise you that you are the person I love most in this world.
” He felt around for my hand underneath the duvet.
Ambivalent, I released it and let him kiss from my hand up my forearm. He smelled of whiskey.
He lay beside me and told me that at first it was just flirting, like a million other flirtations.
When they got a little closer, she told him that she wasn’t very interested in sex, because most of the partners she had had in her life had been disappointing, and that she did not want a relationship, because people expected things from her that she did not know how to give.
He did not need to tell me that this only further stirred his conquering impulse.
He’d show her a partner who was not disappointing and a relationship with no expectations, I thought to myself with tears in my throat.
Halimi went on and said that all my dalliances had made him feel freer than ever.
He told her that we had an open relationship. I couldn’t help but snort with disdain.
“In open relationships, people talk about everything, sweetheart,” I said but didn’t remove my hand from his.
“Well, now I’m telling you everything,” Halimi said impatiently. “The question is if you can handle it.”
“I want to know,” I said stubbornly.
“Mama …” The faint voice came from Lily’s bed. I rolled my eyes, and both of us even chuckled, like accomplices on death row.