Authors: Theodora Koulouris
“Our baby died, Loula. He was mine too!” he said in a tortured voice. “Please, Loula, don’t shut me out. I love you and need you so much now! Please talk to me,” he pleaded.
I looked at him, and I did not feel that he deserved anything from me now. “Please, leave me alone, Nidal,” I said coldly.
I looked around and saw that flowers—carnations, daisies, and roses of all colors of the rainbow—were filling the room. On the table next to the flowers were notes with get-well wishes. A lot of food was laid out: chicken, beef, potatoes, fruits, wine, and chocolates fit for royalty. I wasn’t hungry, but it was nice to know that they cared enough to pamper me.
I smiled at Nidal, and he smiled warmly back. But in that instant, I was reminded of my baby, and my smile quickly faded. Nidal noticed my reaction and took me in his arms. Then the tears started again. We both cried until our tears dried out. I had lost my zest for life.
Nidal looked at me through his tears and said softly, “We have to bury him soon, Loula,” he said as a sob tore from his throat. “We can’t hold him for long. He is in a wooden box, and he needs to be buried immediately. Do you think you can handle it?”
I knew it would be one of the hardest things I would probably have to do in my lifetime. The only reason I knew I would be able to handle it was because my baby needed to be laid to rest. So I agreed, and Nidal went hastily and gave the orders for the burial. When he came back, it was with a heavy heart that he announced the burial would take place in an hour.
I wore a black gown and a veil to cover my head and face. When Nidal scooped me up in his arms and took me outside, way back behind the gardens where the cemetery was, everyone was already there, and they were all wearing black. This was the first royal grandchild, and everyone was mourning his death.
Nidal had put a chair for me to sit on, and I sat on it and stared at the small box with my baby in it. It was placed next to the hole that was dug. I heard my cries. They were loud, heart-wrenching sobs that tore from my heart, made their way out of my mouth, and ripped through the air. It sounded like a tortured animal was wailing in pain. I heard the rest of the crowd cry too. The queen was the loudest. The king cried silently as his tears rolled down his cheek. And Nidal, he looked the worst of all. He had not shaved since our baby’s death, and the black circles under his eyes were proof to all that he had not slept for days.
I dropped to my knees and threw my body across the wooden box that my baby lay in. I let out a scream and cried my heart out. The crowd screamed with pain when they saw me do this, and Nidal dropped next to me and held me close to him. I cried, screamed, wailed, and prayed, and in the end, I went limp on the box. Nidal tried to pull me away from the box, but I held on to it for dear life. I talked to my baby and told him that I would always love him. I told him that I would be with him in heaven one day. I heard the crowd’s cries as I said this. I pulled my hair, I pulled my clothes, and I pounded on the dirty ground. I turned and pounded on Nidal’s chest, pleading for my baby’s life, but nothing. No answer. It was finished. Done. He was gone forever.
There was silence now. The crowd watched in tears as I said my peace. When I was drained of everything I had, Nidal lifted me up in his arms and took me back to the palace. Behind me, I heard the people cry. I shut my eyes and prayed one more time for God to allow my baby into his kingdom and to watch over him until I was with him again.
I was exhausted, and I held on to Nidal for dear life. My prince carried me inside the palace and walked down the hall to our chambers. The door was open, and he walked in and placed me on our bed. I lay my head down on the pillow and wept.
The next day, I woke up and looked at Nidal. All these days, I was thinking only about myself and not once of Nidal. I knew he was hurting as well. I looked at his face. The beard made him look older in a way. I cuddled closer to him, and he awoke immediately and took me in his arms instantly. We kissed, touched, and cried. It was our way of comforting each other. It was therapeutic. I forgave him. It was the only way I knew to release my pain.
The days came and went, and except for the three meals that the servants brought us, no one else bothered us. We just ate enough to live, and then we grieved together the loss of our child, a child who we never got the chance to name, hug, or raise. He was our firstborn, and he was gone to us forever.
We had not talked about the incident on the day of the tragedy. We both avoided it like the plague. We knew that, if one word was said, it would be like opening a can of worms. So for now, we thought it best to stay silent. Neither one of us wanted to spoil the moment.
Nothing lasts forever!
A
week later, I had regained my strength, and my appetite had come back. I ate enough food to last a lifetime. Nidal laughed at me saying that, if I kept this up, the palace would be an economic failure from all the money spent to feed me. His laughter sounded good, like music to my ears.
I don’t really know how everything started. We were simply talking about how I needed to lose the few pounds I had gained during the pregnancy, but that really hit a chord. I started to think of my baby, and the tears started. Nidal raced to my side to comfort me, and then one thing led to another. I realized that, all this time, Nidal had been trying to run from the truth. He did not want to assume responsibility for all the heartache he had caused. It was all Nidal’s fault, and he knew it. The realization of what he was doing hit me like a ton of bricks.
Nidal noticed my mood change and froze. He knew I was about to start a fight, a fight I was going to win. He quietly waited for the inevitable. I was getting ready for the biggest fight of my life.
And so it started.
“Why did you go to Shaeena’s palace seven months ago? Why did you spend three nights there?” I asked angrily.
Nidal looked defeated. He said not one word. His beautiful blue eyes were clouded with tears. He said nothing.
That made me even angrier. “Why is our baby dead, Nidal, but Shaeena’s baby lives safely in her womb!” I yelled.
Silence is golden an old wise man once told me.
I looked him in the eyes, and in a cold and dangerous tone I asked, “Does she carry your child, Nidal?”
Nidal pulled me into his arms and passionately whispered, “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. You are my life, the very reason I exist! I would never hurt you intentionally, Loula,” he moaned.
I knew he meant what he said, but I needed to hear more. The princess was claiming Nidal as the father of her baby. I needed to know the truth. I pulled away from Nidal and motioned for him to sit in the chair by the window as I pulled the other chair close to his and sat down.
“Nidal, I need to know why you went running to Shaeena’s palace on the night of our disagreement.” I patiently waited for his reply.
Nidal sighed and stared at me without replying. This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought, so I moved on to the next question. “Nidal, you stayed three days and three nights in Shaeena’s palace! What did you do there? Where did you sleep?” I asked in a dangerous tone, getting tired of playing the waiting game. But Nidal continued with his silence.
Aggravated now, I raised my voice just a notch. “Tell me then, Nidal. Do you plead innocent?” I waited in silence for his reply, but again, he did not say a single word.
He kept silent. I could tell he was trying to think his way out of answering me. This angered me even more. “Nidal, if you do not talk now, I will automatically assume you are guilty! I have given you many chances to respond, but you just refuse to share your thoughts with me!” I said a little louder now. I was losing my patience, and he knew it.
Nidal fell down to his knees in front of me and took my hands in his. He looked up at me, and I could see the tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Loula,” he whispered hoarsely, “I am not able to tell you what happened when I stayed at Shaeena’s palace because I do not remember. The whole three days are a blur to me! I barely remember anything at all!” he said. “Please believe me, Loula. I love you and would never deliberately do anything to hurt you,” he cried fervently.
A typical man
, I thought.
Never wants to admit to fault! Or take responsibility for his actions!
“Tell me, Nidal. Is there anything you do claim responsibility for?” I asked sarcastically, anxious to hear his reply, but it seemed the cat had his tongue.
The silence was unbearable. He was trying to figure out what to say to get him out of the trouble he knew he was in. “Please, Loula,” Nidal begged. “I honestly do not remember anything! You must believe me! I’m telling you the truth!” he cried.
I pulled my hands out of his grip, stood abruptly, walked to the middle of the room, and gave Nidal a menacing look. Nidal stopped breathing and braced himself for my outburst that he was sure would follow. And it did. I was crazy out of my mind. He was holding back the truth. He was hiding something from me. He was guilty. I just knew it.
“You went to Shaeena! You slept in her bed. Just as she told me! And now she is pregnant with your child! Our child is dead! Dead, Nidal!” I screamed. “Our child is dead!” A sob tore from my throat.
Nidal raced to my side and took me in his arms, and he tried to comfort me, apologizing and crying with me for the loss of our child. “Please, Loula, forgive me. I too am suffering in my heart for our child. He was my son too, Loula, and I loved him just as much as you did! I died a million deaths when our son died! I will never get over it, just like you never will. We need to come together and comfort each other; otherwise, we will destroy our love if we suffer separately. Please, Loula, try to understand what I am telling you.” He tried desperately to convince me, but I was getting sick and tired of hearing about his feelings. He was the one who had done all of this. Everything was his fault.
I pushed him away from me, but Nidal grabbed me again in his arms and held on tight. I tried to break free from his embrace, but he was stronger than I was. Defeated, I stopped trying and just went limp in his arms. His strong arms lifted me while he whispered words of endearment and placed me gently on the bed. He sat next to me and cradled me in his arms, and I cried myself to sleep.
A few hours later, I awoke to find Nidal’s head resting on my stomach, and his hands were around my waist. I loved this man so much, but he had done me wrong, and he needed to acknowledge his mistakes. I ran my fingers lightly through his hair, and I caressed his cheek. I was madly in love with him. He was my whole world, but I was still angry. I knew if we did not resolve it quickly, it would turn into something really ugly.
The sun had gone down, and night settled. I sent the servants away when they came in with our dinner. I had lost my appetite, and I was sure Nidal would not eat anything either. Nidal still slept. I wish I could sleep so peacefully, but I could not. We had ignored Shaeena’s accusations for too long. We needed to get to the bottom of this. We could not just sweep it under the carpet and expect it to go away. It was there, and I was determined to get the truth out of Nidal, even if it meant that the truth would kill our love.
I thought back to the last time we had made love. It had been powerful. We fit perfectly together. Like the yin and the yang. We belonged only to each other.
No matter what, no matter where we are, our hearts are united in such a way that, with just a simple thought, it will reach the other across oceans and even mountains. Nothing could keep us apart. Eventually, we will find our way back to each other. I am sure of it
.
Sadly, I was also sure of something else. If Nidal had somehow fathered Shaeena’s baby, our relationship did not stand a chance. But in the end, I knew we would find each other again, with a love as strong as ours, but there would be suffering in between. The thought of Nidal with another woman ate at my heart little by little, and now my heart was bleeding. I would not stop until I found out the truth. Sooner or later, Nidal would spill the beans. I would find a way to make it happen.
E
arly the next morning, I awoke to find my lover gone from our room. The servants filled my tub with warm water, and I bathed and quickly dressed into my lime-green gown. I pulled my hair up in a ponytail. I pinched my cheeks to bring a pink color to them, and satisfied with my appearance, I left the room hurriedly to search for Nidal’s whereabouts.
I wanted to tell him that I knew he loved me and I believed he would never betray me. I wanted to tell him that I believed him when he said he loved me. Shaeena was lying just to take him from me. Nidal would never betray me. I would tell him I believed in our love, and I knew it would make him really happy.
After checking in the dining area and finding it empty, a servant directed me to the tearoom, saying we had a visitor and Nidal was in there. I walked happily over to the tearoom, and as I was going to push the door open, I heard Shaeena’s voice saying something about the baby. My heart pounded faster as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Everyone turned and stopped talking instantaneously when they saw me. I could tell Nidal was stressed out. His face was ashen, and his hands were shaking. He walked up to me and kissed me with trembling lips. I tensed, realizing I was about to hear something terrible. I looked around. The queen was in tears, the king was standing quietly with his back turned to everyone, and Shaeena stood triumphantly alone, holding on to her abdomen.
I braced myself for what was about to be told to me. I was sure it would be a bombshell. I knew it would destroy everything I had come to love. It would change my life as I knew it. The color drained from my face as I thought of what I stood to lose.
Wasn’t losing my baby enough punishment? Why am I going to be subjected to more pain?