I could not let him go. After scouring the dating scene, I now know that opportunities like Rashed do not come often.
Seducing him a second time will require some tact. He already knows that I want a proposal; earning his trust will be a challenge. I will need to act just like him. Charming yet aloof, present yet unattainable.
It takes me a while to get him to let his guard down, but a few planned coincidences and dozens of naughty conversations later, Rashed was back where he belonged, with me.
This version of Rashed was by far my favorite, he was comfortable and open and dotting. I felt safe with him and he felt loved.
In fact, I was hopeful up until when Rashed introduces me to his parents (his idea not mine). His mother takes one look at me and does not even make the slightest effort to conceal her disdain.
After the horrid encounter, alone in my room, I try not to question why I never seem to be good enough for the “thems” of Amman, the pretty people with their pretentious paintings and vapid conversations, who look and sound like me, yet believe that they are far superior.
In the months that follow, Rashed’s parents make him promise to never marry me, and a few months after they threaten to cut him off financially unless he reconciles with Noor. In a world where cash and property trump love every time, he agrees with them in the blink of an eye. I support his decision, Rashed was of no use to me without his piles of cash.
Still, Rashed and I had never been closer, we were finally together and one. He asks me if I’ll wait for him, I tell him I’ll wait forever. We both agree that he should try to be more civil with Noor, to show auntie and 3amo that he was making an effort.
He never told me that he planned to remarry her to secure his inheritance.
I decide I’d had enough of this nonsense. I knew that if Noor found out that I was in the picture she wouldn’t accept, she would walk away. Rashed was never man enough to make decisions of that sort.
Noor would be in and out of Rashed’s house frequently. All I have to do is get her to see me there.
It takes me three weeks of another round of planned coincidences, and sure enough Noor pops by.
Rashed panics. I pretend to hide but not really. And when I am sure she’s seen me, I leave the house.
That was that, I think to myself as I dial her number.
To catch up on Chapter 7, click here.