Chapter 32
New York-Presbyterian Hospital - United States
Days later
“Did you inform the doctors of the exact time we’d arrive?”
“Yes. Your mother is waiting for you, Adeela,” he answers, making no move to open the car door. We’re in the parking lot, and he asked the driver and the bodyguards to give us privacy. Even though I can still see them from inside, they can’t hear us.
Kaled has already told me three times that they’re expecting us, but I’m too nervous. Even after that first conversation, when my mother and I started talking daily, it will be different seeing her face to face.
It’s been twelve years since I last saw her, and in all my dreams, I never imagined it would happen in a hospital.
Even though, after speaking with one of the doctors over video call, I’m certain her illness is under control, she still needs care. For that, my future husband arranged for part of her medical team to spend the first month with her in Rheadur.
I have no idea how much something like that costs, but from what I’ve read, this hospital is one of the best in New York. I can’t afford to be proud if I want my mother with me.
We agreed to stay in his Manhattan apartment for about three days before flying back home, following the doctors’ recommendations.
Mom will be discharged tomorrow, but the head of her medical team thought it best to wait before putting her on a flight, even one as comfortable as the private jet belonging to my fiancé.
Earlier today, when we landed, I only had time for a quick shower before coming straight here. I managed to rest well on the way, since the jet has two bedrooms.
Not once did Kaled come into the suite with me, and I think I know why: after what’s happened between us these past few days, we don’t exactly have control when we’re near each other, especially behind closed doors.
“Before you go in, there’s something I want to tell you,” he says.
His voice sounds uncertain, which makes me turn to look at him. Hesitation doesn’t suit him, so I can’t help wondering what could be so serious that he’s afraid to say it.
“Did something happen?”
“Not yet. But it will, soon.”
A knot forms in my stomach.
We’ve both been constant headlines in celebrity magazines since our engagement was announced. Given who Kaled is, I suppose the news alone would’ve been enough to keep the tabloids buzzing, but it became much bigger after that model, Ingrid, made her statement about their brief relationship.
Just thinking of that woman sours my mood, and the anxiety I’ve been feeling about seeing my mother turns into anger.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I don’t want to sound insecure or repetitive, though every time pictures of him with his exes pop up in the media, my newly acquired confidence hides itself in the closet.
He’s been with women so beautiful they barely look real, and it doesn’t help my self-esteem that one magazine backed Ingrid’s claim that our upcoming marriage is one of convenience.
Yes, maybe we’re not in love yet—though what I feel for him has evolved at a frightening pace—but that doesn’t mean we’re not both committed to making this union work.
To my surprise, there’s more between us than the overwhelming physical attraction I initially thought would hold us together; there’s also companionship.
Not that I have any control over my body when he’s close. I won’t deny that he drives me crazy with just a look. When he touches me, his hand brushing mine, his knuckles grazing my cheek, his whisper against my ear, I burn. So yes, the physical chemistry is undeniable.
But beyond that, we actually talk. Kaled listens to me, really listens, asks questions, wanting my opinion on meaningful issues in our country, like the creation of full-time childcare programs for working mothers.
For the first time, I feel valued as a human being, not just admired for being pretty. Despite everything, my father never hid that he considered me his most beautiful daughter, but he made it sound like a curse, a flaw. Like a useless ornament, no matter how polished.
“Adeela, I know you well enough to tell when something’s bothering you.”
“It’s fine. I was just thinking about that woman and what she said to the press. I think I actually hate her, but I also hate those journalists who make a living speculating about us. Besides it being in terrible taste, they should be ashamed of the way they judge you.”
I didn’t mean to let my temper show, but maybe the tension of my upcoming reunion with my mother got the best of me, and now I can’t stop.
“They call you a playboy, and that’s so unfair. When I think of that word, I picture someone who does nothing but party, and that’s not you. I see how hard you work and—”
The next thing I know, he unbuckles my seat belt and pulls me onto his lap.
The kiss he gives me makes my anger at the media dissolve instantly.
I can’t even remember what the media is or why I was mad in the first place.
All I know is that when he touches me like that, I feel untouchable, safe from everything: my father, the people who gossip about us without knowing anything, the fear of not being enough for him or that one day he’ll break the clause I demanded and betray me.
Nothing scares me anymore.
When our mouths meet, there’s only us.
“Do you have any idea how crazy you make me when you start talking like that?” he asks when we finally come up for air.
My face burns, and I lower my eyes. “I just get upset when people talk about us, but especially when they’re cruel to you. You’re wealthy, yes, but you work for every cent you earn. You’re not like . . .”
“My brother?”
“Yes,” I admit quietly.
“It’s about Naim that I wanted to talk.”
He summarizes his conversation with the lead investigator on the case, not going into detail but warning me that a scandal involving his family will likely break soon.
“And your father . . . how will he take it?”
“I’ve already talked to him. But I think we’ll need to stay low-profile for the next few months in everything related to our family, because anything we do will make the tabloids.”
“Distorted headlines, you mean, since they haven’t published a single true thing about my life.”
“I’m sorry about that, ayuni.”
Now, when he calls me my eyes, I no longer feel shy. I’m starting to realize that Kaled is always tender with me, even if he doesn’t notice it himself. “It’s not your fault. Have you told Jazmina?”
“Yes, and she’ll return to Rheadur tomorrow. In the meantime, I left Rodrick, as he’s staying in Paris a few more days, to keep an eye on her.”
“That should be interesting. Your sister didn’t seem too fond of your friend.”
“She’ll have to learn to take no for an answer. I’m sure Rodrick will handle her as he would his own sister.”
I’m not entirely convinced. From what Jazmina told me about the redhead, they nearly killed each other in the short time they spent together, but I’m not about to burst Kaled’s bubble.
“I think I should go in now,” I say, only then realizing I’m still sitting on his lap.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“I appreciate the offer, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to do this alone. When we come to pick her up tomorrow, you two can meet.”
“All right. I’ll see you at dinner. I want to take you to my favorite restaurant in the city.” He kisses me again, then holds my face so I’ll look at him. “I’ll be at my office here on the island, but call me if you need anything. If you can’t reach me, call Amin’s phone.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to leave the hospital. My mother and I have twelve years of conversation to catch up on.”