Sweat drops were running down Hamdan's forehead, his t-shirt was sticking to his chest and back as he got off the treadmill. He went downstairs to the first floor at NAS, drying his face with a towel to find Saeed Hilal sitting at a table reading the newspaper.
"Is everything ready for tonight?" Hamdan asked.
Saeed nodded. "All set, sir."
"Good. You can go home after you drop Sarah off."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, spend some time with your family. I'll call you Saturday," Hamdan opened a bottle of water and took a sip. The car parking on the driveway caught his attention. "What's he doing here?"
Saeed looked over his shoulder.
"You're early." Hamdan stated to his uncle as he stepped into the building.
"Yes, your father wants to see you in one hour." The Sheikh replied, shaking hands with Saeed.
"What about?" Hamdan wondered.
Uncle Saeed pressed his lips together and quietly sat down.
It took one moment before Hamdan figured it out. "Really?"
His uncle remained silent, getting a hold of a piece of newspaper Saeed had set aside.
Hamdan took a step closer. "Why?" He demanded with open arms. "You've never made such a big deal about other girls."
Saeed brought the newspaper up, covering his face entirely.
Uncle Saeed scratched his forehead. "Because of how you responded when I confronted you. You care. Too much."
Unbelievable. You care too much so let's make sure nothing happens.
Hamdan scoffed and turned around. "I'll take a shower."
The doors to his father's office at Zabeel Palace were promptly opened for him by two members of the security team. Sheikh Mohammed was sitting behind his L-shaped mahogany desk with gold leaf gilding.
"Hamdan," he greeted his son, glancing up and then back down to the papers he was signing.
Hamdan walked behind the desk and kissed the emir on the cheek.
"Sit," his father invited.
Hamdan sighed and took a sit in one of the two dark leather chairs in front of the desk. He waited resting his elbows on his knees.
"So..." Sheikh Mohammed finally began addressing Hamdan, putting the papers in front of him away and reaching for two yellow folders. He opened the first one up and started reading. "Sarah Grace Anderson. Born July, 3rd 1990 in Austin, Texas. Only daughter to Patrick and Brianna Anderson—"
Hamdan stood up. "What's that?" He questioned, taking the folder away.
He started going through the pages. Every piece of information about Sarah was in there; immigration documents, drivers license, a briefing of her endurance career — including every ride she participated in— even records from The American School of Dubai. One piece in particular made him stop.
"Grades from high school?" He asked, holding the sheet up. "Was this necessary?"
"Yes, it was," the emir replied, reclining on his chair.
Hamdan closed the folder, put it back on the desk and sat down. "Just tell me what you found out about her that is so terrible."
"Nothing. She appears to be a very decent girl, same thing with her parents," Sheikh Mohammed noted, opening the second folder in front of him.
Hamdan pressed his eyelids with his fingers. "Then why am I here?"
"Because you did not listen when your uncle tried to talk some sense into you," Sheikh Mohammed leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. "Hamdan, nothing can happen between you and her."
"I think I'm old enough to make that kind of decision by myself."
"And the fact that she rides for your stables..." The emir continued, ignoring his son's remark. "That's completely reckless."
Hamdan hung his head, wondering if discussing the matter whit his father was even worth it.
"Son, your brothers and sisters look up to you, our people look up to you, especially the young ones. It's vital that you set an example for them," Sheikh Mohammed rose to his feet and walked to the window with his hands clasped behind on his back. "A lot of sacrifices have been made in order to achieve the goals and dreams your grandfather and Sheikh Zayed initiated."
Hamdan eyed the two portraits of the men his father was talking about hanging on the wall in front of him.
The emir continued. "And we keep working hard every day to accomplish them. But tradition is something that must remain untouched. It is what makes us who we are, it's the most valuable heritage we got from our ancestors," he turned to face his son again. "We Emiratis are already outnumbered by a ratio of nine to one by foreigners, in our own country. And even though we welcome people from all over the world with open arms... what's going to happen to our culture if we don't go out of our way to preserve it?"
"So, what do you suggest? An arranged marriage for the Crown Prince? We already tried that once and I'm sure you haven't forgotten what happened."
"No, I haven't but I'm still hopeful that you will come around and do what's right."
Hamdan shook his head. "I won't do it. It's not for me."
"You are an Emirati. So yes, it is for you."
There was a knock on the door. Sheikh Mohammed grabbed his cellphone and closed the laptop on his desk.
"You're leaving?" Hamdan asked with wide open eyes.
"I have a busy morning and so do you," his father replied, walking towards the door.
Hamdan got up. "But I'm not done talking about this."
The emir stopped, his hand on the door handle. "There's nothing left to discuss. Put an end to it and find her another stable to ride for."
Hamdan was left alone in the sumptuous office, he clutched his hands into fits, fingernails biting into his palms. Another decision made by someone else, but just like his failed engagement, he was not caving in. Ending things with Sarah was completely off the table. It had to work but he was the only one utterly convinced that he and Sarah were meant to be. He could give up everything and not look back just as long as she was there, next to him.
If only he could make her see.
The buzzing of his phone made him relax his fists. It was a text from Sarah. He plopped back onto the chair when he read it.
Sarah
Hey! Can't wait for tonight!
---
Sarah's voice echoing through the foyer made him come downstairs with a cheerful heart. She was leaning against the round table, holding her phone up to the ear. She had a black blazer on, paired with jeans and a white t-shirt.
"Yes, dad," Sarah said, raising her eyebrows at him.
Hamdan could not wait anymore, so he encircled his arms around her and purposely started tickling her neck with his beard.
"Stop!" Sarah squirmed away. "No, sorry. It's, um, Rooster. He's..." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Misbehaving."
Hamdan wrinkled his nose in response.
She said goodbye to her father and put the phone in her pocket.
"I hate lying to them."
"Tell them the truth," he suggested.
She angled her head. "Do you want to kill my dad?"
"That's how bad he hates me?"
"Oh no, he likes you very much. That's the problem."
"And your mom?"
"Well, she's quite the romantic... I think she would find this pretty amusing."
He ogled at the gorgeous woman in front of him. Little strands of hair were coming off from her messy bun, her curious eyes trying to read him.
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing. Can I kiss you now?"
"Maybe later," she teased.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, his other hand on her cheek. "That was the first and last time I asked."
"Good," she replied before their lips met.
Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered. It didn't matter what everyone else thought, it didn't matter if he had to face the entire world, because Hamdan found all the answers in that kiss. He was not letting her go.
"Hi," he said, resting his forehead into hers.
"Hi," a big smile parted her lips.
"Grace."
Sarah pulled back. "What? How do you know that?"
"I have sources."
"I bet you do. But don't call me Grace, it's weird, nobody does," Sarah got closer one more time and her index finger started to draw a line down on his chest. "So..."
"Don't ask, I won't tell you where we're going."
"Oh, come on!" She complained.
Saeed opened the door. "Everything is ready, sir. The helicopter is waiting."
"Helicopter?" She inquired.
"Thank you, Saeed. See you Saturday."
The bodyguard disappeared behind the door and Hamdan turned to Sarah.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
They headed to the back garden where the pilot was waiting by the helicopter on the extensive lawn with two helipads. Hamdan let her get in first and sat next to her. After buckling up, she held his hand and leaned comfortably into him. The conversation with his father was going around in his head as they took off. He was still debating whether he should tell Sarah about it, but her reaction frightened him more than anything.
"We're almost there," he announced after fifteen minutes into the flight
She sat up and peeked out the window. "Almost where? We're over the ocean."
He looked out his window and pointed. "There."
The amazement on her face made him smile.
"Oh my God! A yacht?"
The helicopter landed on the helipad on the front deck. Hamdan opened the door and helped Sarah out. They descended the few steps to the corridor surrounding the main cabin where the crew was waiting for them.
"Welcome to The Smeralda," the Captain shook hands with Sarah and then turned to him. "Your highness, it's always a pleasure. Dinner is served."
Hamdan thanked the crew for the warm welcome and guided Sarah towards the dining room. The whole time he did not let go of her hand, it was something he liked to do, but after that morning he was craving for her closeness even more.
"This is amazing, Hamdan." She sighed, looking at the wraparound glass wall in front of her.
He picked up the plate that was set across from Sarah and sat on the chair next to her. Over dinner, she did most of the talking and when he was done eating he noticed Sarah had only eaten half of her food.
"Didn't you like the food?"
She looked down at her plate. "Yes I did, I'm just not that hungry."
"Let's skip dessert then," he stood up. "Come on, I want you to see something."
He slid the glass door open and they stepped out onto the aft deck adjacent to the dining area. They stood in front of each other, in between two big U-shaped sofas with cushions.
Sarah looked around. "Am I missing something?"
"Yes, look up."
She gasped when her eyes found the star studded sky.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Better than the Texas sky?"
Her eyes traveled down to meet his. "Do you remember everything I say?"
"Pretty much, yeah. There's a lot to remember," his eyebrows up on his forehead.
She grinned and laced her arms behind his back standing up on her tiptoes. "Yes, this is much better."
He wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight.
"Is everything okay?" She wondered, rubbing his back.
A couple of seconds passed before he answered. "Everything is perfect."
And it truly was at that moment. They sat on the couch and covered up with a blanket, Sarah rested her head on his shoulder as the moon was high on the clear sky.
"Have you ever heard the story about the rabbit on the moon?" She asked.
Before he could say no, his phone started ringing.
"I have to take this, I'm sorry," he apologized.
"Sure, go ahead."
He went inside and came back after the long, work related call. Sarah was lying down, her eyes closed.
He squatted down and stroked her hair gently. "Sarah... Come on, I'll take you to your room."
"Five more minutes," she murmured without opening her eyes.
Reaching for his arm, she pulled him to lay next to her. Hamdan got under the blanket and she settled herself in his arms.
"Stay with me," she whispered.
He kissed the top of her head. "No... you stay with me."
***
That ending... :( but the night is not over, so stay tuned.
I know I say (or write?) this all the time, but I'm truly grateful for every vote and every comment, so thank you again!
XOXO,
Sophie.