Chapter 20
I grip the napkin on my lap as I watch the waiter walk away with our orders.
When I left Kamal’s bathroom, he told me we would have dinner out, even though there was nothing on his face to indicate that he wanted it.
I stepped into the shower, completely confused.
With everything that had happened during the day, and especially the last time we made love, I wasn’t prepared for his emotional distance just seconds after we reached orgasm.
It was only when the sheets slipped off my body and I felt the wetness dripping down my thighs that I understood.
My pulse quickened, and my heart was beating so hard I thought I might faint.
That was the reason he had changed.
We made a mistake.
Or rather, I made a mistake—I had initiated, after all.
I spent nearly half an hour locked in the bathroom, not wanting to come out, until I remembered the pills I take to regulate my cycle. They are low-dosage but still contraceptive pills. I can’t be that unlucky that the day I lose my virginity and get careless once, I get pregnant.
I prayed to God and all the angels, begging that the fact I was irresponsible doesn’t unfold into something complicated like getting pregnant with the child of a man who, besides being a serial seducer according to his brother, will never marry a woman outside his culture.
I gathered all my dignity, grabbed one of the robes available in the bathroom closet, and finally came out to face him.
As soon as I stepped into the room, he informed me about dinner. Now, here we are, sitting in a restaurant that I later found out belongs to one of Kamal’s cousins.
“We need to talk,” he says.
I was already expecting that.
Even though I’m an adult now, every time I hear that sentence, I remember one of my parents reprimanding me, and my stomach turns into knots. Especially because his voice sounds cold and impersonal.
I tell myself there’s no reason to feel hurt.
It’s probably common in his world—which I now see has nothing to do with mine. Even in good times, my family’s wealth would be equivalent to a grain of sand compared to the Sheikh’s fortune. Women probably try to pull off a pregnancy scam all the time.
“I already know what it’s about,” I say, feeling my face heat up, but there’s no way I’ll let him treat me like a gold-digger.
“You do?”
I avert my gaze from his face; otherwise, I’ll end up saying something I shouldn’t, because I’m very upset.
“Yes, I know. We were careless. I realized it when I entered the bathroom. You can relax. I take low-dosage contraceptive pills to regulate my cycle.” I never imagined myself saying something so intimate to a man, but in an embarrassing situation like this, there’s no room for pride. “I don’t think there’s any risk.”
“You think?”
I look at him and count to ten before saying, “I’m not a doctor, Kamal. I can’t give any guarantees. However, there’s another option. I can buy the morning-after pill.”
It’s not what I want because it goes against my beliefs. But at the moment, I would even set aside my principles just so he stops looking at me as if I’m hiding something.
“No. Not that. I know it’s not solely my decision, but if this . . . matter becomes something for real, I won’t shy away from my responsibilities.”
“I understand,” I reply. I can’t deny that I’m relieved to know that if something does happen, he will take responsibility for the child. “And I find it very honorable of you to think that way, but you’re putting the cart before the horse. Everything will be fine.”
“You’re an optimist, Madeline?”
“Always.”
The waiter starts serving the appetizers, but I’ve completely lost my appetite. If there was a flight back to London today, I would leave.
“You’re upset.”
“No.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Madeline.”
I look at him again. “I don’t like having my integrity questioned. I understand that there must be a line of crazy women wanting to have a child with a wealthy Sheikh. I’m not one of them, Your Excellency.”
“I didn’t say you did it on purpose.”
“But you thought about the possibility.”
He doesn’t deny it, and I have to control myself not to get up and leave him by himself.
“I understand your position, Kamal.”
“You do?”
I nod. “Because of who you are, you must have met many women seeking to take advantage of you. As I said before, I’m not one of them. If you brought me here just to talk about this, we could have spared ourselves the mutual discomfort.”
“It wasn’t just for that. I wanted to spend time with you.”
“We spent a lot of time together today, which eventually led to this issue, as you pointed out.”
“Why are you acting like this, Madeline? I know I’m not the most diplomatic person in the world, but we barely know each other. What did you expect from me?”
I set down my utensils since I can’t even pretend to eat anymore. “May I be excused? I need to go to the restroom.”
I don’t wait for a response. I grab my bag and head to the bathroom.
I thank God when I find it empty.
I look at my watch and calculate the time in Boston.
Jesus, it’s three-forty in the morning. I can’t call Zoe now. She’s pregnant.
I decide to leave her a message.
Me: “Call me as soon as you can tomorrow. It’s not anything urgent, but I need you.”
I exit the stall and look at my face in the mirror.
There’s nothing to give away how nervous I am. After living with my family my whole life, it’s easy to pretend that something doesn’t hurt me.
One day. I just need to endure one day, and then I’ll be back in my apartment and what happened today will be in the past.
I return to the table, occasionally smiling at people along the way, and it’s only when I sit down that I realize there was a bodyguard accompanying me.
“Why is he necessary?” I ask Kamal, referring to the man.
“I don’t think you understand the importance of what might have happened, Madeline. From now on, until you’re certain whether you’re carrying my heir or not, you’ll be treated as my woman, with all the necessary care and precautions.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he interrupts me with a gesture.
“I haven’t finished yet. If you really are pregnant, we will have to make a different kind of arrangement.”
“I would never prevent you from seeing your child, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m also not interested in anything for myself.” Just the thought of him thinking that makes me sick.
“If you’re carrying my child, you won’t depend on yourself anymore. We’ll have to think about the child’s wellbeing.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The only possible solution if we made a baby would be for us to get married.”