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Oh shit—no—no—no! My mind swirled with random memories and visions of a future of me locked in a desert palace, covered from head to toe in sheets or robes or whatever it was they smothered their women with. I loved him—at least, I thought I did. I was carrying his child, so he did have a few rights and some say in all this, but I didn’t have to marry him.
It was modern times, after all, and I could raise a child on my own. Yeah, getting a job might prove difficult, but I would find something eventually. Even Anna’s mom had said she would help me. My mom was in Kansas and busy with her new husband and his kids, so I knew I wouldn’t get much from them. But when Anna had told her mom—who lived just fifteen minutes from me—that I was pregnant, she’d immediately said she would help—that I could even live with her if I needed.
“Julie? What is wrong? Do you not want this?”
Now I was crying. Damn this man and his ability to elicit tears from me. I never cried. I was much too practical and realistic to cry or ever break down. Damn him, anyway.
“Um—Amir, I…”
I choked on a sob and found I didn’t have words. Another power he had over me, which really frustrated the hell out of me. He looked downtrodden and confused as he sat on the bed, the glorious ring still nestled in the black velvet box. I sat next to him and set my hand in his free one.
“It’s a stunning ring,” I offered.
He snapped the box closed, and the sharp rapport made me internally jump. Turning to me he said, “I do not understand you. I only wish to protect you, care for you; offer you a life of leisure and luxury. I want our child born in my country.”
His voice grew sterner and stronger and he stood. “You are a stubborn American woman, and I find you difficult to love.”
I remained silent, still wordless at his onslaught.
“Julie, you are a spoiled brat who only wants her own way. Have you not considered what this child means to me? The second chance you’ve offered me at happiness? At a life with a family. With a wife of my own!”
He pointed at me and glared.
“You are denying me all I’ve ever wished for! I have lavished you with gifts and attention and—and—LOVE! Yet you still deny me this one thing? You still insist on this need to work and be independent. Why? This makes no sense to me whatsoever!”
I could tell he was getting angrier with each word. “Can I talk?”
He inhaled sharply and waved his hand, but before I could get out a word, he started a new tirade.
“You are only a few weeks along in this pregnancy. How do I know you will not change y
our mind about this, too? Have you simply been playing me? Is this even real? Have you considered what the life of a motherless child is like? You will be working, and the child will never know you. I want to know this baby! I want to raise this baby in the country he will someday inherit!”
He continued on in this vein at length, and I sat and listened.
Finally when he was done, he threw his hand in the air and indicated I could say something. He was pretty riled up at this point, so I picked my words carefully.
“Amir, I am sorry. I am not excluding you by denying you marriage.”
He made a sound of disbelief.
“No really! I want to do this with you. I want you to be part of our baby’s life. I already decided I would keep it—I am not going back on that promise I made to you and to the baby.”
He barked, “It is my son! You are carrying my heir!”
“I don’t know yet what the sex is. Will you care for it less if it’s a girl?”
He seemed shocked. “Of course not! She will be you—I love you! Do you not understand this, Julie?”
I nodded. “I know you think you love me, Amir, but honestly we hardly know each other. Isn’t this too young for us to run off and get married? What happens when this first crush feeling wears off? What then? Do you leave me alone in an empty palace while you go in search of better fulfillment?”
He now seemed confused. “What are you talking about? I was loyal to my wife, and I didn’t feel anything closer for her than what I feel for you. We had no passion such as you and I share. I loved her and was faithful. I worshipped her and our son.”
He dramatically waved his hands in the air in frustration. “What is this crush you speak of? Do you not love me? Have these past two weeks been a lie? All of our confessions? Did you not enjoy the pleasures I gave your body?”
I stood and walked towards him.
“Amir! No! I am wholly involved in this—in this thing we have! I’ve been honest with you—one hundred percent real! I do love you—I do! But like you said, it’s only been a couple weeks. Concentrated time since we’ve been together continually, but still, only a couple weeks. I do love you. Please look at me, Amir. Please hear me.”
