The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(104)
The spotlight on me was so bright that I couldn’t see anything. Maybe it was better that way.
“Yes, Khabib is laugh-out-loud funny, impishly mischievous. And yes, you all already know how handsome and charming he is—” approving laughter sounded throughout the crowd, “but what you may not know about this man is how he is courageous in business matters, yet no less courageous in matters of the heart. Khabib is, hands-down, the most caring and compassionate man I have ever had the pleasure of encountering. You can see it in how he treats his family, his friends, and I’ve seen it each and every day with how wonderfully he’s treated me. To say that I’m lucky to have had the time I’ve had with this man would be an understatement. I…”
Just then, my hand was grasped. I stepped back, only to see Khabib grinning at me. He turned to the crowd.
“Is stealing the mic at your own birthday celebration a no-no?”
He received a mixture of cheers and boos, but continued regardless.
“Give me a break, though. You all have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, how I’ve been pestering this one—” he nudged me with the microphone, “because I don’t know how true all the great things she’s said about me are, but I do know one thing. I care for this woman, this Lucy Morrison, with all my heart and soul. I care for her in a way I never knew was possible and never suspected existed. She woke me up— in every way possible—to the joy in the world, the love, the possibility, both in others and in myself. Lucy Morrison, I love you.”
As we kissed, a roar of applause and cheers surrounded us. When we separated, I took another step back from the bright light, only to see, at the back, some out-of-place newcomers.
Dressed in extravagant clothes, they were gazing at us, stupefied. Only when I took a step forward did I realize who they were: Khabib’s parents, and a woman who I could only guess was someone they wanted to introduce as a bride-to-be.
Chapter Nineteen
Khabib
Of all the times to show up…
“Mother, Father—wait!”
Yet, as my family and the unfamiliar woman they were with swept away, they didn’t hear me—or chose not to.
Finally, outside the building, we caught up to them. I grabbed my father’s arm.
“Father, please.”
He ripped it away, his whole face almost unrecognizable with rage.
“Do not speak to me, Son. I have nothing to say to you.”
“But—”
He shook his head.
“Your mother and I brought a most honorable woman from Al-Jembar here to meet you…” He let out a deep sigh. “But it doesn’t matter now. You are a disgrace to this family.”
“Father, if you would just give me a second to explain.”
“Explain what? That your debauchery has reached an all-time low? That you have no respect for the country where you were born and raised?”
I shook my head and grabbed Lucy’s hand.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Lucy is the kindest, most loyal, most honest woman I know.”
Now, my mother was in my face, her dark brows arched.
“Is that so?”
“Mother, what are you…”
But she was adamant, her face an inch from mine, demanding again, “Is that so?”
Dumbly, I nodded, and at this, she smiled. A terrible, snarl of a smile that only made it to her eyes as a sardonic glint.
“If that is so, then why has your ‘most honest woman’ been reporting to us your activities, all this time?”
Silence.
I turned to her, my Lucy, expecting to see her own eyes slit in denial, in innocence. But I couldn’t see her eyes from her hung head. I was the one who had to break the silence.
“Lucy, is this… It can’t be…”
When she did finally raise her head to meet my gaze, her eyes were so miserable that I had to look away.
“True.”
She cleared her throat, though her voice returned as shaky as ever.
“It’s true.”
As my whole body slumped, she continued, “But I didn’t have any choice, Khabib. Your father, your brother—they threatened me, said they’d fire me if I didn’t comply. I’m under contract to them, not you.”
And still, I could say nothing in response. Now, she was grabbing my arm, spouting more words.
“Please, Khabib, you have to believe me. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times; I was going to. I told your father I was through with it, and he said I’d be free in a week. I couldn’t bear to tell you because…because…”
My head rose, and my eyes searched her face, the face of a stranger.
“Because you knew I wouldn’t be able to trust you anymore.”
My gaze flitted from her to my parents, back to her again. From liars, to liar.
“And you’re right. I can’t trust you—any of you.”
She grabbed my arm, but I wrenched it away.
“Khabib, please.”
“Get away from me—all of you!”
My feet pounded on the pavement as my legs took me away, away from the voices that were still shouting, the hands still grasping. I didn’t care. My heartbeat was hammering and it was right—I had to escape, had to get out of there. My car was where I’d left it, the parking lot fuller than when I’d come. No matter.