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Noah quickly reaches for my hand, gently caressing me, and I feel grounded once again.
I can’t panic now. If I even give away a hint of being disheveled, they’ll lock me up in the temple and never let me out again. I must remain calm … even when we’re looking at each other in the eyes, knowing she still stands there in the crowds, wearing the same clothes over and over, being forced to wash with strangers, and eventually get fucked by a man who will claim her to be his.
Has she been married yet? Is there a man who put a scarf around her neck and called her his? I wasn’t here for the past few prayers. Maybe she’s already been taken, and I wasn’t there to help her.
We never stop looking at each other even while the president speaks. Neither of us seems to pay any attention to what he’s saying. All I care about at this moment is her.
Is she happy or afraid?
Tears well up in her eyes as she smiles, and I smile back, unable to stop the tears from flowing on my end too, and at that moment, I know we’re on the same level.
We’re not matriarch and follower. I’m not above her, and she is not beneath me. We’re still kicking and screaming, still fighting this impossible regime, even if it’s from opposite ends of the chain.
No matter how small our acts of resistance, each gesture is enough to prove the fact that we are still here. We are still breathing and still aware of the fact that we don’t belong here.
And it doesn’t matter where I was or how long it took me to come back. I know what we’ve been through, even if we weren’t together for it all. And that connection transcends time and space.
The women step forward again, and our eye contact is broken because of the red cloaks being thrown over their bodies. I gaze at each of the women who go to their knees in front of the stage. When they look up, my jaw drops. One of them is Holly.
When she looks at me, she smiles broadly as though she’s happy she got taken by a man. She was always so giddy whenever it was time to go to the showers. From the day I met her, she never stopped speaking of wanting to get married, of becoming a wife.
Now she no longer has to wear the scarf while eating. Now she can speak to the other couples and start a family of her own. It’s what all the women aspire to be here because they have nothing else to yearn for.
And for some reason, knowing she’s so happy makes my heart twinge with grief.
After the president finishes giving his blessing, her face beams, and she returns to her man in the back, who greets her with a brazen kiss, claiming her in front of everyone. When the prayers are finished, the hut empties out, and the patriarchs get up from their seats. The wives accompany them outside.
I gently nudge Noah’s hand as we walk out and lean in to whisper, “Can you give me some time, please?”
His brow rises. “Why?”
I swallow hard and point in the direction of the crowd going the other way. “April. One of my fellow initiates.”
Noah briefly looks around, searching for guards, but today there aren’t many accompanying us. I feel like they’re starting to trust us again, as we haven’t made a ruckus or raised a lot of eyes in the past few months, so maybe I can get away with this if I’m really quick.
“Quickly then. I’ll stay here and wait for you,” he says, and he pecks my cheeks in such a sweet way that it leaves a blush.
“Thank you,” I reply. “I just wanna talk to her.”
He nods. “As long as you don’t enter her hut.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I say, and I rush off into the direction of the crowd.
With my pretty purple dress, I draw a lot of attention from the people walking back to their huts, but I pay no attention to them as I dart through the waves, searching for her.
When I’ve finally found the hut April’s going to, I bolt past the people standing in my way and manage to catch up to her before she enters the door.
I grab her shoulder and swiftly spin her on her heels.
She’s befuddled at first, her face bewildered and looking upset, but then she sees it’s me, and a smile appears that could bright up the sun.
“Natalie,” she murmurs, and she falls into my arms almost instinctively.
“April,” I mutter, hugging her tight. “It’s been so long.”
“Tell me about it,” she says. “I was so worried about you when Noah announced that he’d take you as his wife.” She leans back, smiling. “But you look okay. How do you feel?”
