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‘I got a modelling assignment out in the Middle East—an oil-rich city in the Gulf, where a new fashion mall was opening. They were doing publicity shots using European girls, especially blondes like me. It was good money for modelling at my level then, but it still wasn’t as much as I wanted. So when one of the photographers’ assistants asked me if I was interested in earning more money—a lot more—I said yes. He explained to me the custom in that part of the world. Said that as a “summer bride” I could make a lot of money—fast. That as a blonde I’d be at a premium...my bride price would be high.’
She looked at Rafael again, not seeing him, only letting her gaze rest somewhere in the desert that was the place where she was now.
Her voice changed. Twisted in her throat.
‘He called it a bride price but I knew what it was. I knew what a summer bride was. I knew it. Knew what it would be called here in the West.’ And now her eyes did see Rafael’s face. Saw every stricken feature. ‘Prostitution. What else? What else is it when a girl is given money in exchange for sex with a stranger? I was given money—a lot of money. And I know what that made me.’ She paused. Swallowed. ‘What it makes me...’
She met his eyes, forced herself to do so. They were blank. Blank with shock. With more than shock.
‘There are no excuses for me. I wasn’t tricked, or forced, or fooled. I knew what I was doing and I did it. Because I wanted to. Just like Madeline I chose to make easy money, fast. Just like Madeline.’
She closed her eyes a moment. Then opened them again.
‘So now you know why I left New York that afternoon. And why what we had is over.’
A shudder seemed to go through her, as if something were shattering deep inside. Her voice changed.
‘Rafael, I lied about myself by not telling you. I deceived you. Because I wanted you so, so much, I told myself that I could finally leave it behind me—ignore that it had ever happened—accept from you what I had come to feel I could never accept from a man. A normal, honest relationship! But when you told me about Madeline, how you despised and condemned her for what she did—what she chose to do—then I knew that all my hopes had been lies! I knew...know...that I can never escape the past, never put my past behind me! That by hiding it from you I’ve been lying to you right from the start! And when I saw the revulsion in your face as you told me about Madeline, I knew—’ her voice choked ‘—knew that I could deceive you no longer. I could not look at you and know that you would condemn any woman who made a choice like hers. A woman like Madeline. A woman...’ the breath razored her lungs ‘...like me.’
She paused, shutting her eyes for a moment, then forcing them open again in order to say what she still must.
‘So I left. And now,’ she said, swallowing, lowering her voice, ‘you must leave, too. I am sorry—truly sorry, more sorry than you can ever know—that I have treated you so badly, both in my deception, my silence about what I did, and in the anxiety you have felt these past days, not knowing where I was.’
He was still standing there, frozen into immobility. She drew breath and went on. She had to do this right to the bitter, nightmare end.
‘I would tell you, Rafael, that my time with you has been the most precious time of my life—I would tell you that, but for you I have destroyed it all by telling you the truth about myself, about what I’ve done. But it remains true, for all that, and to my dying day, each and every moment of my time with you will be a jewel in my memory.’
Her voice was breaking. She was breaking. She could speak no longer.
She saw him start, saw his face work. Then he spoke.
