Chapter 53
Boston
Three days later
I step out of the car with my heart racing and my hands freezing, eager to leave, but I know I need to close this chapter.
Two days ago, I arrived at Zoe’s house, and since then, I’ve only been communicating with Kamal through texts.
He sends them in the morning and at night, and I imagine how difficult it must be for him to resist calling me, because he once told me he despised texting.
In his own words, they were ‘too impersonal.’
“Good afternoon, Miss Turner. It’s a pleasure to have you back, miss.”
“Thank you, Kataina,” I greet my parents’ maid. I know they had to let go of most of the staff, and it doesn’t surprise me that Kataina’s still here, since she’s one of the few who can put up with my mother without going insane.
“Your mother is waiting for you in the living room.”
I follow her, feeling like a visitor rather than someone who lived in this house all her life.
As I walk, I notice the empty walls where the artworks used to be. Even the Persian rugs were taken away by the bank.
A part of my heart cries, sad at seeing a part of my life disappearing, because even though they were just things, they were my memories too.
Then I remember the thousands of people whose lives my father played with when he stole their money.
Since I arrived in Boston, I have been following the news in the papers, and embarrassment doesn’t even come close to explaining how I feel.
“Hello, you ungrateful child. You finally came to visit us.”
I take a deep breath as I stand face-to-face with my mother. I prepared myself for this encounter—or should I say sparring match?—and promised myself I wouldn’t let her get to me, but Adley Turner-Miller is an expert at driving me mad.
“Hello, Mom.” I walk closer and bend down to kiss her on the cheek, since she didn’t make any effort to get up.
“You don’t look pregnant.”
“It’s still early. How are you both?”
“How do you think? Embarrassed. Humiliated. Forgotten.”
I stare at the woman who gave me life. She is not the same person I said goodbye to when I left for London. Her face has no trace of makeup, and her short brown hair, which is its natural color, unlike mine, although in a Chanel cut, has lost its shine.
She’s wearing a silk robe over her nightgown, which is strange because I’ve never seen my mother in sleepwear during the day.
“Why haven’t you gotten dressed?”
“I don’t feel like dressing up anymore. What’s the point? No one will invite me anywhere anyway.”
I sigh, exhausted. Of course receiving an invitation is all that matters in life.
“Why did you come back to Boston? Gave up on marrying your Sheikh?”
“I didn’t come here to discuss Kamal; I came to see how you both are.”
To make a last attempt to try to understand you, Mom.
“We’re surviving. Your father told me we’ll manage to pay the lawyers, and they won’t take this house. That’s something, at least.”
I look at her, surprised. What does she mean they won’t take the house?
Before I can ask, however, she speaks again. “You said you came to see how I am. You’ve seen it, and now, if you don’t mind, I want to be left alone.”
I stand up, and my heart sinks with sadness.
That’s it. After months of not seeing me, and even knowing that I’m pregnant, she gave me only five minutes of her precious time.
“All right, Mom. Have a good day,” I say, faking a composure I’m not feeling. “I’ll call to check on you both.”
“As you wish.”
This time, I don’t wait for the maid to escort me to the exit, but as I reach the hallway, the library door opens.
“Madeline?”
I turn around. “Dad?”
“Can you come in here for a moment?”
I walk over to him and freeze when I see how worn-out he looks. Dad has always been a handsome man, but now, he has lost almost all his hair, and bags of fat have accumulated under his eyes.
The once proud Steven Miller is a shadow of what he once was.
Surprisingly, he hugs me. He rarely did that when I was growing up. Most of the time, I wasn’t even sure he saw me.
“Forgive me,” he pleads.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just grant me your forgiveness. I’ve been a terrible father to you.”
“You’ve been a terrible human being.”
“Yes, and unfortunately, I don’t have enough life left to pay for my sins.” He steps back, and I see a glass of whiskey on the table.
“What will happen to you both?”
“Don’t you know?”
I look at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Your fiancé is paying for my lawyers. He also bought this house and will allow us to live here forever. Or at least your mother will live here. I’m not sure what my fate will be.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he gestures with his hand, indicating he’s not finished.
“I’m not seeking sympathy. I know whatever happens to me, I deserve it. I just wanted to thank him and ask you to look after your mother if I end up in prison.”
“She doesn’t want me around.”
“Adley doesn’t know how to ask for help.”
“No, Dad, she doesn’t see me as her daughter. Or anything, I suppose. And to be honest, I’m okay with that now. You asked me to look after her, and I will. I won’t disappear from your lives, but I won’t let my mother poison my child, who will be born far from her prejudices and malice.”
“I understand, and your promise not to abandon her is already generous enough.”
“When is the trial?”
“In a few months, but for now, I’m under house arrest. Well, I hope you’ll be fine, my daughter. I just wanted you to thank your fiancé for me. I tried to do it myself, but he didn’t take my call.”
Because he didn’t do it for you; he did it for me and our child.
I know how much Kamal despises dishonesty. My heart overflows with love; even though it goes against what he believes and as much as he disdains them, he also considers my dysfunctional family his own.
“I have to go,” I say, before kissing my father on the cheek.
Inside the car that Christos sent for me, I get the new phone Kamal gave me the day after I left the hospital.
“Madeline?” the voice of the man I love asks.
“I just left my parents’ house. Thank you for everything, but you didn’t have to do this.”
“I didn’t do it for them; I did it for you.”
“I know. I love you, Kamal.”
“Ya ba’ad shabdi[1],” replies my fiancée.
My heart quickens when I hear him say that to me after so long. “Are you not going to tell me what that means?”
“Not yet.”
One week later
“You’re not living, Maddie. You’re merely surviving, and that’s not good for the baby.”
“He hasn’t called me, and since the day I left my parents’ house, he’s only sent texts to check if I’m eating and sleeping properly.”
“Kamal is giving you the space you asked for. For someone like him, it’s the greatest proof of love there could be.” She sighs. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I don’t think I’m doing any good by keeping silent, even though I promised him.”
“Promised him what?”
“Since the moment you set foot in Boston, Kamal calls me every day to find out every detail of your life: whether you’re eating well, sleeping well, if you need anything.”
“He does that?”
“Religiously. You asked not to be suffocated, and he’s fulfilling his part of the deal.”
“I’m being foolish, that’s what I am. Bringing suffering to both of us.”
“No. I think you did well by stepping away. Both of you needed some time after that meteoric start to the relationship, but you need to make a decision, Madeline. If you don’t want to be with him, if all you want is to maintain a good relationship with the father of your child, end it now.”
Just hearing that, I feel physical pain. “I have no choice, Zoe. I love him with all my soul.”
“You’re mistaken, cousin. There’s always a choice. You told me you wanted to grow up. Stand on your own two feet. Do that but do it right. Don’t let the man you love slip away.”
With my heart racing, I grab my phone and leave the room.
“Kamal?” I say when he answers.
“Madeline, I didn’t expect you to call.”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“Never. Is something wrong?”
“In three days, I’ll have my first ultrasound. I wanted to know if you . . . uh . . . wouldn’t mind being there because—”
“I’ll be there.”
My God, the way this man makes my heart race can’t be healthy.
“I’ll be waiting for you.”