from the kingdom. Because then, there was nothing I could do to block my mind from thinking of him. Mazen.
My heart was breaking inside my chest, remembering him: his smile, his voice, his touch. Remembering how he’d comforted me, protected me, treated me like something breakable, held me tenderly, with care.
He let me go because he knew it was best for me. He let me go because he thought I’d be better. He let me go because he thought I’d stop crying.
He was wrong.
I was aching. Hurting. Bleeding and breaking inside. I missed him terribly. And I wanted him back. I wanted to go back. But...it wasn’t the right thing to do. I didn’t belong there.
I held my cross, closed my eyes and prayed. But when I held the cross, I only thought of the moment he’d given it to me. When I closed my eyes, I only saw him smiling softly at me. And it was all so quiet around me, that I could easily hear him in my mind as he called me his ‘beautiful princess’.
My nights were dark, and my days were darker. I cried myself to sleep. Every night. And I ached for him even more. Every day.
One day, I asked my grandfather, “Papa, what’s one of the hardest things in life?” and he told me, “To believe strongly in something all of your life, and then find out that it was all a lie.”
It was another Sunday where I sought some peace in my church, and when I was good enough to actually attend it. I walked down the street, begging Brad to just let me be alone for a while, knowing that he would still be around all the same: somewhere where I couldn’t see him, but he would be able to see me, just to be sure I was okay.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks since I last saw or heard from Mazen. The closest I’d gotten to anything related to my week with him, was the bag when my housekeeper asked me where she should put it–only to find it was all of the jewelry that had been gifted to me there. I really didn’t feel good about keeping it, but couldn’t be rude and send it back. And I thought it was nice of Mona to remember to pack them with my things.
The other thing was when I looked at one of the company’s billing statements: I found one address I didn’t recognize that had had lots of roses shipped to it. I knew right away that it must be where Janna was. I was surprised to learn that she didn’t live with Joseph. I thought a lot about visiting her to see if she was okay, but then thought that it wasn’t a very good idea. I needed to forget, not to remind myself even more of what I had lost. A visit with Janna would make the ache in my chest grow even bigger.
I didn’t want that.
I knew that Mazen would make sure she stayed okay; he’d told me so himself. But I couldn’t deny that I found some pleasure in knowing that she hadn’t forgiven Joseph, and wasn’t even living at his house. Serves him right, I thought.
I gazed at the shops around me, not really looking at anything but just busying my mind with something. But my heart would always find a way to force my mind into remembering him. Mazen.
I saw a small crystal shaped into a horse that was standing on its two back legs. It reminded me of that night in the royal stable: when Thunder first saw Mazen and how he’d greeted him. It brought a smile to my face...then tears to my eyes.
I bought it, though. Because I liked to torture myself, I think.
I spent those two weeks learning about Islam; Google was a good friend of mine. True to Mazen’s words, Islam was a beautiful religion, but some Muslims really weren’t. Because they were humans: bending the religion to their desires, sick desires of power and shedding blood. It was really sad.
I learned that killing was the biggest sin in Islam, that in their holy book it’s said that killing one innocent soul was like killing all of mankind, and saving one soul was like saving the whole world. It was very saddening that many didn’t follow that law.
And like Janna told me: anyone who did something bad to a woman, insulting her or causing her any harm, was promised