Chapter 13
Le Pré Catelan Restaurant
“You’ve never taken me to such a beautiful restaurant before,” Jazmina complains, pouting.
I don’t know what to say, but the closest thing to the truth is that I wanted Adeela’s first dinner in Paris to be special.
“I should’ve eaten slower,” she continues. “Everything was delicious, but there were so many different dishes I won’t be able to remember their names or flavors.”
Adeela looks at her with a faint smile.
She’s been avoiding eye contact with me, as if every glance happens by accident, and every time it does, I feel like I’ve just won the grand prize.
That girl makes me crave her attention, and that’s not something I’m used to. Women’s gazes have always drifted to me easily.
While my sister talks endlessly, blissfully unaware of the tension between us, I feel as though Adeela and I are in our own separate world, because there’s no doubt that, despite her efforts to avoid looking at me, she feels it too.
I love Jazmina, but tonight, I wish she weren’t here.
I barely tasted the food. I spent most of the evening watching Adeela.
She’s so delicate. From the way she holds her fork to the way she takes a sip of sparkling water, every gesture is graceful.
She’s more of a listener than a talker, letting my sister dominate the conversation, but when she does speak, it’s always with a subtle wit that takes me by surprise.
I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a woman’s company so much, knowing full well I wouldn’t be taking her to bed afterward.
Even though none of this is her fault, I feel trapped in a dilemma. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but I can’t see a way to have her.
“Why did you two have to come stay with me in such a hurry?” I ask without warning, partly because I want a direct answer and partly because I need to stop thinking about Adeela’s full, soft mouth.
From what I know so far, that mouth has never been kissed.
Damn it. That only makes me wonder what else I could teach her.
“Do you really want to talk about that now?” my sister asks, incredulous.
No. I want to take your friend somewhere private, some alternate reality where rules and social conventions don’t exist.
I clear my throat, forcing my thoughts back into order. “Yes. I brought you both here, as you asked, and now I want to know what’s going on.”
I don’t miss the look they exchange. A silent understanding.
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. “Well?” I press.
“As I said on the phone, it was an urgent situation,” Jazmina explains.
“Why?”
“Before I tell you, you have to promise that no matter what happens, you’ll be on our side. Even if, three weeks from now, you’re officially sheikh, you can’t go back on that promise.”
Now I’m getting seriously concerned. “What did you two do?”
“You have my word it wasn’t anything wrong, Kaled,” my sister says seriously. “But I’ll only tell you everything if you swear you’ll support us unconditionally.”
“Did you break any laws? Hurt anyone?”
“Of course not,” she answers, but it’s not her I’m looking at.
“Talk to me, Adeela,” I order.
“No, we didn’t hurt anyone or break any laws,” she says softly, “but I’m afraid of what my father will do to me when he finds out I ran away because I discovered everything.”
“Discovered what?”
She takes a sip of water, then wipes her lips with the napkin.
She’s clearly trying to buy time. To gather courage.
“That he offered me in marriage to a man fifty years older than I am,” she says, lifting her chin.
Her words don’t come out as a complaint, but with disbelief, as if she still can’t accept that her father actually did that.
Arranged marriages are increasingly rare, even in Rheadur. Back when my father was sheikh, women at least had the right to approve or refuse their suitors.
“Did you and your father ever have a conversation that made him think you wanted to marry?” I ask, and for reasons I can’t explain, I need the answer.
“No. We never talked about marriage or husbands. My father is very . . . strict, so I think that scared off any potential candidates.”
I keep my expression neutral as I process everything quickly, but judging by her pale face, I know she’s still holding something back. “And what else?”
“Isn’t that horrible enough?” Jazmina cuts in.
“No. There are missing pieces to this story. Let her speak.”
“How do you know we’re not telling you everything?” my sister tries to deflect.
“Because one ‘no’ from Adeela would’ve been enough to stop the marriage,” I say.
“I’m sorry, brother, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Can we finish this conversation when we get back to your apartment?” Adeela asks tensely.
“No. I’m giving you the chance to tell me everything. There won’t be another one. What don’t I know? Were you being forced to marry?”
“Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom,” Adeela says, standing up.
As she walks away, heads turn to follow her. Even with her hair covered, there’s no hiding that beautiful face.
“Kaled, she’s embarrassed to tell you,” my sister says, pulling me back into the moment.
“Tell me what?”
“Counselor Arif isn’t the same man as a father that he is as a counselor, or maybe he’s just a terrible counselor too, considering he agrees with Naim’s insane decisions,” she says.
“But what he did to Adeela is beyond comprehension. She overheard him offering her hand to a man old enough to be her grandfather, telling him he could discipline her if necessary.”
“You’re telling me Arif gave a man permission to hurt his own daughter?” I ask, stunned. “Why would he do that?”
We’re not living in the Middle Ages. There are laws in our emirate that protect women from violence.
I’m not na?ve enough to think it never happens—cowards exist everywhere—but what she’s describing is almost unbelievable.
“She doesn’t know this, but if you ask me, he hates her because she looks like her mother. Or maybe he’s just a cruel man. Who knows? The fact is, Adeela can never go back to Rheadur.”
“He beats her?” I ask, and the words burn like acid in my gut. The thought of that delicate, nymph-like girl being hurt makes me sick.
“I don’t think so. If he did and she’d told me, I would’ve asked Father to intervene.”
“You used me to bring you both here,” I accuse. Even understanding her reasons, I won’t tolerate being played.
“I’m sorry you think that. It wasn’t my intention,” she says, sounding sincere.
“Don’t ever do that again. I love you. You’re my sister, and I’ll always stand by you, but don’t manipulate me, Jazmina.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I feel like shit, but she needs to learn to be honest about what she wants. I don’t take well to being handled, no matter the excuse.
“Forgive me, but we were desperate. You have no idea what our country has become since Naim took over. Who else could I trust? Father doesn’t have the strength, physically or mentally, to fight the council’s decisions.
How could I let that monster she calls a father hand her over to another one just like him? ”
That won’t happen. I don’t care what it takes, but no one will ever lay a hand on her.
“Go check on your friend, Jazmina. See if she’s all right. I’ll think over everything you’ve told me and investigate these claims. When we get home tonight, go straight to bed. I’ll have a private conversation with Adeela.”
I’m convinced there’s more to this story than they’ve told me, but now that I’ve started, I’ll see it through. I’ll find out what’s happening in my country.
Arif’s actions toward his daughter must be the result of nearly two years of Naim’s reckless leadership, but I won’t let our nation slip further into darkness when it comes to basic human rights. Adeela isn’t an object to be offered. She has the right, and the duty, to choose her own husband.
And suddenly, it’s as if a curtain lifts before my eyes. I can see the path I have to take.
It’s time for me to lead my people.
Rheadur needs me.