I put on my boxers and sit on the bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom because, depending on the consequences of my impulses, our weekend fling could last much longer.
Maybe forever.
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 contraceptivepills. 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 mycycle.” 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?”
