I wanted all of this to just be a terrible nightmare I could wake up from, but it wasn’t. The sun glared over me, scorning me with it, and the humidity made it hard for me to breathe. A drop of sweat slid down my back. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
My brother looked between me and Yaqoub, confused, and I gulped.
“We clearly need to talk,” Razzaq said, looking at me with a tight jaw. He was trying to compose himself, to keep himself from exploding right in the busy arena, where other race-goers whirred past us, unaware of the mess I was in. Razzaq walked to the side, away from the bustle of the main walkway and I followed him. I swiftly turned to Yaqoub an apologetic look while he waited, confused. He looked even more nervous than I was, even if Razzaq clearly looked younger than him.
“Who the hell is he?” Razzaq asked me through gritted teeth. His chest rose and fell in anger; smoke could come out of his nose and ears at that point.
“He’s…he’s a friend,” I said, like it was an acceptable answer. He clearly didn't buy it, he didn't miss a beat when he uttered the next words.
“You lied to me. You said you were going to your friend’s chalet and I trusted you, but you lied to me and left the damn country instead. What if something had happened to you? Is Zaid's accident not enough for us?” he said, trying not to yell. Zaid's "accident" was intentional, but I couldn't rebut that in that moment. Razzaq's face turned red in a way I hadn’t see before. I really thought he would hit me––which he never did. Maybe I did deserve it.
“I'm sorry,” I said, tears clouding my eyes now. My chest felt constricted, and I welcomed any signs of fainting with open arms, anything to rid myself of this shitty situation I put myself in.
“Who is he, Zaina?” he said. “Does he know you’re engaged?”
I gulped, thankful my brother wasn’t loud enough for Yaqoub to hear. He couldn’t know like this.
“H–he saved me in a car accident; you weren’t in the country when it happened,” I said, trying to guilt trip him. “And yes, I do think I got attached to him, more than a friend,” I added, standing my ground now.
“Does he know you’re engaged?” Razzaq asked me again, not forgetting his question. I gulped and shook my head, looking at my feet. He simply nodded and crossed his arms.
“How long have you been with him?” he asked me.
“Two or three months,” I said in a low voice.
“God, Zaina,” Razzaq said, raking a hand through his hair. “What about Talal?”
“You think I can tell Mama I want to break it off?” I almost yelled, tears falling from my eyes. “You think I want to be in this position?”
He took a long sigh. “What’s his full name?”
God, no. I replied with Yaqoub’s full name and my brother furrowed his brow.
“The same family as aunt Muna is related to?”
I shook my head, insinuating that Yaqoub’s family is not within our social or marriage circle.
“Zaina you really, really messed up,” he said, shaking his head. The disappointment in his eyes slit my heart into two. I was ashamed of myself. I wasn't that kind of girl, at all.
“You’re going to break it off with him today. You’re going to go back to Kuwait today, I’m being serious,” he said. I gasped.
“I can’t, Razzaq,” I replied, shaking my head vehemently. I was deeply falling for Yaqoub. Not now, not when things were getting serious. He was talking about marriage less than an hour before the whole run-in with Razzaq happened. Of all people.
“You can’t do this to him or Talal, or our family,” Razzaq replied. He was right. . “Do you want me to talk to Yaqoub?”
I shook my head, wiping my tears. The background music and announcements of the arena were barely a distraction at this point.
“Then talk to him and leave,” my brother threatened me.
“I can’t do it today; just not today––when we're back in Kuwait tomorrow. Please. He paid for the tickets,” I begged Razzaq. He looked at my wristband.
“He got you the standard tickets,” he said, his voice dripping with judgment and disgust like a standard ticket was beneath him.
The orange wristband on his wrist indicated he was in the VIP section. Of course he was. “This is the best he could do. You won’t be fine with it, not for long. He’s not like us, Zaina. He’ll never be like us,” he said, still angry.
I gulped, and another tear skidded down my cheek.
“Please, just let me watch one race with him,” I said, begging again. I felt pathetic, but I needed more time. This was too abrupt.
“What about Talal? Do you even want to marry him?” Razzaq asked me. I shook my head.
“I can’t tell Mama that,” I said.
“Why not?” he asked. I peeked at Yaqoub, who was pacing back and forth, anxiously waiting for us to finish. My heart broke for him. I was a terrible, selfish person. I hated myself for doing that to someone who least deserved it; who saved me in a time where things could've ended badly.
“We don’t click, Razzaq. I don’t enjoy his company so much; he’s boring—” I replied, and my brother interrupted me with a scoff. He actually scoffed like compatibility was a stupid concept.
“You’re joking, right?” he said. “Do you know how many girls would die for him?”
“I’m not one of them, clearly,” I said, biting my nails. The race already started. Yaqoub was texting on his phone, maybe he was texting me.
“But Talal can maintain how you live now, he can provide you with everything you need,” Razzaq said. “That guy?” he said, nodding his head back at Yaqoub. “When the romance dies down there’s nothing more for him to offer. You won’t last with him," Razzaq said, so full of conviction.
“Yes I will,” I said, adamant now.
“You live a life he cannot fathom, Zaina,” he replied. “Your clothes? Your bag? This is a burden to him; he’ll leave you sooner than you’ll leave him. You’ll be miserable. Talal, on the other hand, can. You can live your life, and your feelings to him will follow. I promise,” my brother added.
I sighed, feeling my throat close up. “But Yaqoub-“
“Is not for you,” he said, like it was the end of the discussion.
Another tear escaped me. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe Talal was also like Sara, maybe he was going to blindside me soon, and maybe we really were incompatible, but it was too soon to tell.
“Can I wait until France to call it off with Yaqoub?” I said now, biting my lip, hoping he forgot my earlier proposition.
Razzaq shook his head. “It’s going to hurt more the longer you take. Say your goodbye, pack your bag, and go back home,” he suggested. I sighed, and nodded.
“Okay,” I said, wiping my tears.
He didn’t bother walking with me to Yaqoub. I had to do it alone. Face the consequences of my own actions. Was I ever even going to call it off with him? Or was I waiting for something to happen for it to naturally fizzle out?
“I’m sorry,” I told Yaqoub, who had his jaw clamped shut. He could sense what was coming.
“Is that your brother?” he asked me, and I nodded. I had to call it off now, get it over with—rip it off like bandaid.
“We…we can’t,” I said. I didn’t know how to end this. I was choking on my own words.
“What are you saying?” he replied.
“We have to end it,” I replied. His face turned white despite the heat, his eyes budged out of their sockets like he couldn't believe what I was saying.
“Why? I told you I’m going to propose once your mother is back. Let me talk to him,” he said, clearly offended. My entire body hurt just listening to him. It hurt seeing him like this. I shook my head.
“It won’t work out,” I said, tears spilling now.
“Is it because of money?” he replied and I gulped, shaking my head. Of course it was a factor, but I couldn’t let him know.
“Then what?” he said, almost angry now. The humidity was making it hard for me to breathe. Razzaq appeared next to me now after hearing Yaqoub’s escalation.
“I think you should let her go,” Razzaq said. I realized he was six years younger than Yaqoub, but at that moment it felt like the opposite. The authority Razzaq commanded from his tone made my skin prickle.
“But why? I told her I was going to propose and she agreed,” Yaqoub said, and Razzaq stared at me.
“Propose?” Razzaq said; taunting me, and I shook my head, begging him not to out my secret.
“I guess it’s only fair to let you know she’s already set out to marry someone else,”
“AbdulRazzaq,” I objected. My heart was hammering against my chest now. Tears spilled endlessly down my cheek and I couldn’t stop them. This was not how things were supposed to go.
“What do you mean?” Yaqoub said like he couldn’t believe his ears. I wanted to faint, to desperately get out of this moment.
Razzaq kept quiet. Was he enjoying this?
“Zaina are you already engaged?” Yaqoub said, jaw tight. My head was light, my heart raced against my chest I was worried it would explode.
“I was-I was going to call it off, I swear,” I said and Yaqoub looked like he wanted to punch a wall.
“So you played me like a fool, is that it?” he replied.
“No, I swear everything was real, I swear,” I said, crying.
“I loved you Zaina. I really did,” he said sternly. His voice broke in betrayal. It was all my fault.
“I still do—“ I said, but it was barely audible when I spoke because he interrupted me with “I didn’t realize I fell for a such cruel, manipulative person. I have no one to blame it on but myself. ”
I couldn’t say anything, but my tears fell for me. Razzaq didn’t object either; he let him speak his peace.
“I’m—I’m sorry, Yaqoub. I really was going to break it off with him to be with you. I never liked him, I swear on my own life!” I said. He ignored me, and turned to my brother.
“Would your family have approved of me, with my surname, with my background, if I had proposed to her?” Yaqoub asked Razzaq.
I watched Razzaq lower his head, shaking it no. My heart was crushing into a million pieces. Yaqoub shot me a look that I could only feel humiliated by.
“Because she said they would. If I had known there was no chance I would’ve broken it off; I would’ve saved myself the misery,” he said and with each word that came out of his mouth guilt sinked deep into my core, shaking me. Was I a monster?
“I thought we’d really have a chance; I was going to convince them—“ I said, trying to defend myself.
“Please stop,” Yaqoub said. His eyes were teary now, and we were both in this mess together. I wish I could hug him, let him understand that it was always him. Always.
“You tell yourself that’s but the truth is you knew all along there would be no us,” he said. I gulped. He was right.
“I wish you the life you deserve, Zaina. Let’s just pretend this never happened,” he said. Before I could say anything he turned on his heels and walked away.
“How could you?” I seethed at my brother, and Razzaq lowered his sunglasses.
“You’re blaming me for what you did?” he said. “I simply cut your losses shorter. I saved the man out of further misery,” he said.
“It’s none of your business!” I yelled. I didn’t think I could be heard by anyone else over the roar of cars and announcements.
“When you’re putting your own reputation at stake it is my business,” he yelled back, and I cowered. “You’re lucky I won’t tell our parents about this. Let alone traveling with some guy you met just months ago; what the hell were you thinking?” he said, judgement lacing his tone again.
I gulped. It was really unlike me. I wouldn’t do this. I’d judge myself for people who did this.
“Let’s go to your hotel and pack your things for my suite. Do you want to leave tomorrow or tonight?” As if he knew his hotel wasn’t the same as ours; Razzaq loved the finer things in life. I guess I did too.
I hated that I wasn’t VIP. I hated that we had to sit back in economy. I hated that my hotel room looked occupied by 3,000 people before me. I hated that Yaqoub judged me over my outfit.
Maybe I was trying to convince myself I’d be miserable with him so I wouldn’t feel the pain of not being with him.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” I asked him, hoping it wasn’t the same flight as the one I booked with Yaqoub.
Was it really over between us?
“Eight pm,” my brother said. I sighed in relief.
“Fine,” I said. I just needed time to myself. I didn’t even want to go to this stupid race. “I’ll just go to the hotel and pack my stuff.”
I didn’t want to run into Yaqoub. This was too much to handle. Zaid silenced a phone call, probably one of his friends waiting for him in the arena. I ruined his trip, too. Served him right for interfering.
“You didn’t tell me you were going to Abu Dhabi,” I said as we walked to the Uber pickup area. I wanted to desperately flip the script against him now.
“It was last minute; the guys and I decided last night at the duwaniya,” he said. That was yesterday.
“Prices must’ve been insane,” I said.
He scoffed. “You never used to comment on stuff like that,” he said. He was right. “And yeah, they were. Only me and two other guys were able to find tickets, planes, and accommodations,” he said. “We even considered his dad’s private jet but it was too late. We arrived at six in the morning.”
Part of me found this weird, it was all too sudden. Was he hoping I wouldn’t find out that he traveled because it maybe wasn’t with his friends? Maybe he, too, had a special someone waiting for him at the bleachers.
“Are you okay?” he said once we got into the Uber. I nodded.
This felt like a nightmare that only happened in my mind, until reality started trickling in. Yaqoub’s voice rang in my head, reliving the moment over and over. I peered out the car window as another tear escaped my eyes. I couldn’t be this pathetically emotional in front of my brother. I had to show him I didn’t care. At least he didn’t rat me out to my parents.
“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you…going out with a guy like this. I’m not judging, I’m just…surprised,” he replied. I looked at my hands in my lap.
“Please stop,” I said, barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” he said. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Like what? What do you want me to say? I guess we both don’t know who the hell I really am,” I began to yell, not caring that tears are spilling down my cheeks.
The Uber driver peered from his mirror.
“I guess we don’t,” Razzaq said angrily, pressing his jaw shut. He had the power to reveal everything to my parents, and I was under his grace.
“You didn’t have to tell him I was engaged,” I said. My chest felt tight, and I still couldn’t breathe.
“It was his right to know. You lied to him, and I made it much easier for him to get over you,” my brother replied.
“I might’ve made it work, Razzaq!” I yelled now.
He scoffed, ridiculing me. “Keep telling yourself that. You know you’re not right for each other.”
“I didn’t want it to end like this,” I said softly.
“You didn’t want it to end at all,” Razzaq replied. “But it had to. For your sake and his.”
“You won’t tell Mama and Baba about this, will you?” I said, sounding pathetic now. His features contorted into an expression of confusion.
“Of course not, I’m not crazy,” he said. “Just as long as you promise you won’t get back to him.”
It was my turn to scoff now, and I wiped my tears, which fortunately had stopped spilling. “As if he wants me back.”
So that was why Razzaq told Yaqoub about my engagement. So he would be too disgusted with me to take me back. There was no chance now.
We stopped by my hotel and my brother waited for me in the car, while I went up to my room to pack my belongings. I didn’t run into Yaqoub going in, and I prayed it stayed that way leaving. For my own sake I really didn’t want to see him hurt.
Memories of our times together rushed to me, and I found myself sobbing on the hotel bed, ignoring the remaining items I needed to pack. Yaqoub’s disgusted expressions at me stabbed my gut, vivid like the confrontation was happening again.
I hyperventilated, my first ever panic attack and I had no one to calm me down. I could call him, text him that we probably would still have a chance, that I’d convince my parents that I’d rather be unmarried than marry anyone other than him. But I guessed I had to re-earn his approval first. I doubted that was possible. He hated me. I played him, and I don’t blame him.
I washed my face in the bathroom, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I was disgusted with myself. Maybe I was a monster; maybe that was why I didn’t have that many true friends. No one liked me. I thought someone did but I wasn’t myself with him. I presented myself like a lie.
I took a deep breath and grabbed my carryon and handbag, leaving the hotel room. I didn’t run into him.
Part of me still wanted to.
