The Sheikh's Purchased Bride

  ***

  They spent hours strolling between the pyramids, talking about life and art and what it meant to be respected. After flying back to Rabayat, later that evening, the days that followed involved much of the same; Malik making appearances at various functions, always with Amie on his arm, and showing her the various areas of his homeland in their free time.

  At first, Amie was under the impression that Malik simply wanted to keep making fun of her for gushing over every area, monument, or museum they visited like the fresh-faced tourist she was. But one day, after a beautiful dinner at a romantic restaurant rounded off a day swimming in the salty waters at Malik’s family’s private beach, Amie couldn’t help but notice how much he lit up when he talked about his childhood; showing her these places that had meant so much to him growing up.

  Had he ever taken a girl to these places before, she wondered? Maybe this was as new to him as it was to her. His passion for history, art and culture was infectious. The more he spoke about the city around them, the more in love with the culture she fell. Especially when she convinced Malik to take her to his favorite place.

  “This was the statue that became the basis for the festival of Nine Nights. This monument was carved entirely out of granite by the slaves after their liberation.” Malik gestured at the statue and his eyes lit up before Amie. The statue depicted a man and a woman, both with the lower body of wild dogs. In their arms, they each held a child. “The child symbolizes that they could finally start a family line that would not be oppressed. They were free, to pursue whatever they dreamed of doing.” His eyes seemed lost, suddenly; filled with emotion.

  “Not building pyramids for two cents a day,” Amie joked, but Malik didn’t join in. “You like this one a lot, don’t you?” she said quietly.

  “I love this one,” he corrected under his breath. “I would come here as a boy and just think, wow, they were free. What do you do when you’re finally free from those who oppressed you? From what you always knew? What bravery,” he said breathlessly.

  Amie looked up at the statue but didn’t dare touch it. She smiled at Malik. “What do you mean by that?”

  “How do you break out of the mold? What do you do when you’ve been caged and someone finally lets you fly?”

  Suddenly Amie realized why Malik was so attached to the statue: he saw himself in the message. For all of his early life, his parents had raised him in the mold of the respectable boy they wanted him to be. Then, he left the Middle East, moved to the States; his cage was opened, and he went wild.

  “Mostly… I think people don’t know what to do,” she said gingerly. “It’s like, what happens when all your dreams come true? You’d better make sure you enjoy every minute of it, and be careful not to abuse the gift you’ve been given.”

  He gave her a pointed look that she couldn’t quite read. Had he caught onto her subtle lecture? Was it out of line for her to be saying anything about his life in Chicago? Suddenly she felt like she was his employee again, instead of his friend.

  Or… whatever they were.