Scotland, 1995.
Layla was pushing her bicycle to the side of the road that surrounded the family's estate. With tears on her eyes, she squatted down under the shade of a tree and realized the chain had slipped out of place. She let the bicycle fall on the ground and tried to fix it, but she only ended up with black grease on her fingers and no success.
Hamdan was on the lead of the race against his siblings. His legs spinning as fast as he could on his bike, the fresh wind blowing on his face and small sweat drops forming on his sideburns. Only one more lap left to go and he would be the winner. Again.
His eyes were entirely focused on the road ahead, until he saw Layla with her bike on the ground. He hesitated for a moment, his first instinct was to keep going but suddenly, winning didn't seem important anymore.
He slowed down his pace and gently pressed on the brake levers. Coming to a full stop, he slid down from the seat and put both feet on the ground.
"What happened?" Asked the out-of-breath eleven year-old boy.
"It's the chain." Layla complained.
One after the other, the rest of the kids swooshed by them laughing. Hamdan got off the bike and went to kneel down next to Layla's.
"We'll fix it." He comforted her.
Layla sat down on the ground and crossed her arms. "It's not fair! I always finish last!"
"That's not true." Hamdan countered. "Sometimes you beat Sheikha."
Layla let her arms fall down to the sides and rolled her eyes. "But she never wants to play the cool games! And I can never, never beat the rest of you."
Hamdan grimaced as he was struggling with his task, but finally the chain was back in place. "There!" He smiled proudly.
The girl moved the hair away from her face with her fingers and leaned over to see.
"Thank you, Hamdan." She smiled at him.
Hamdan chuckled when he saw grease smeared on Layla's cheek. He pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his hand and cleaned her face.
"I think I saw some scones in the kitchen." Said Hamdan while wiggling his eyebrows.
Layla's eyes twinkled. "Do you think they have raspberry jam?"
He knew any sort of sweet treat would always make her feel better.
Hamdan got up and went to pick up his bike. "Let's find out."
Layla followed suit and they both walked back to the main house holding their bicycles to their side.
From that day on, Hamdan always made sure that Layla won some of the cool games from time to time.
---
Hamdan
I get in the car and ask Saeed Hilal to take me to Maktoum's. The two Saeeds, Uncle Saeed and Saeed Hilal, belong to the small group of people I know I can truly count on. I've known Saeed Hilal my entire life, he started working for the family since before I was born and now it's hard to recall how he even ended up being part of my security, my driver, personal assistant... He does a little bit of everything and he's always here.
I'm running late as usual, Maktoum already texted asking where I am, but there's always something. My days are a planned ahead but things come up or last longer than expected every single time. People want to talk to me, shake hands, bump noses and tell me about their problems or things that should be done and I cannot say no. Someday I will be the Emir and I think one of my main responsibilities is to listen. A good leader always listens.
"This will be your last engagement for the day, right?" Saeed asks.
"Yes and I hope it won't take long." I tell him while scrolling through my phone.
We make it to the gates of Maktoum's home and security hurries up to let us in. Saeed stops the car in the driveway in front of the main door. I thank him as I get out of the car and run to take on the steps of the entrance. The door opens and a staff member welcomes me in.
"Where are they?" I question.
"Back terrace, your highness." His arm pointing to the right.
"Thanks."
I walk the long hallway and put the phone in the pocket of my kandura. Voices start fading in and I see people through the open glass door.
What? What is Maryam doing here? I thought this was a work meeting. Sheikha too? Latifa is the only one that works for the government; there's no reason why the others should be here.
I step out on the deck. "I'm sorry I'm late!" I say loud enough so everyone can hear over the chatter.
They are all gathered in a circle among the potted plants and patio furniture. Absolute silence comes over and that only adds to my confusion.
What's going on?
"What took you so long?" Sheikha asks me.
I don't bother to answer because I'm busy trying to read the room. Latifa, Ahmed, Mansoor and Maktoum are here as well and they all slowly begin to turn around and face me.
And there, in the middle of all them, emerges the ethereal vision of Layla, dressed in all white. The most beautiful eyes I have ever seen looking back at me once more. After all this time I'm seeing her again and here in Dubai.
"Layla." Her name rolls down my tongue like honey.
Her lips curve up, she walks in my direction and stops to examine my face as my eyes do the same. She's even more beautiful than what I remember; alabaster skin, pink soft lips and eyes that make me feel like I could swim in them.
"Hamdan."
She says my name unlike anybody else as the breeze softly blows on her hair. Taking two more steps, she lifts her arms and wraps them around my neck. In the midst of my daze, my palms gently land on her back and I inhale on her jasmine perfume.
"Aw! Look at you two getting along." Says Maryam.
I keep the urge to squeeze her body against mine, lift her from the ground and tell her how much I missed her, how I think of her all the time and how so many things still remind me of her everyday. Instead, I let her go when she releases me.
Maktoum comes over to stand next to her and passes an arm around her shoulders. "Meet the new board member of DMI and director of the Women Empowerment Program."
"What? You're going to work for Dubai Media?" I ask her in disbelief.
"Yes." She replies with a broader smile.
I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of it all. Out of nowhere she's back here, for good, acting as if nothing ever happened.
Was she never angry at me? Or avoiding seeing me? Was it all in my imagination? Have I been telling myself a story that wasn't even real to begin with?
I don't know, because I never reached out to her after that one last time.
My sisters steal Layla away, to plan a girls only get together at her place. As I pretend to listen to Maktoum talk, I manage to overhear that she's living in Palm Jumeirah and it feels so surreal, she even has a house here. My brothers also seem genuinely happy that she's back and as the conversation carries on I find out that Mansoor and Layla always meet up somewhere in the world for vacationing with their friends during the summertime.
No, it wasn't my imagination. She has been treating me differently from the rest, she has remained close to everyone except me and I suppose I cannot blame her.
One by one, everyone starts leaving and I can't bring myself to do the same. Layla hugs Ahmed goodbye and walks over near the pool to take a phone call. Besides her, Maktoum and I are the only ones here but I'm busy figuring a plan to approach her.
Maktoum clears his throat and that makes me remove my sight from her.
"Layla and I are going through some work stuff." He explains. "Perhaps you would like some time alone before that?"
"Thank you, brother." I reply.
"I don't know what happened but I'm sure you can work things out." He shrugs.
I scratch my eyebrow at his hopeful words. "Yeah." I wish I was that certain.
Maktoum walks back into the house and I head over to the pool. Her call doesn't seem to be coming to an end soon, so I walk slowly and sit on one of the lounge chairs, at a wise distance as she faces away from me.
She finally hangs up and turns around to find me, I get up and move closer.
"Important call?" I ask in an attempt to break the ice.
She tilts her head to the side. "Sort of. Maktoum's assistant is helping me find one for myself." Her sight searching behind me. "Where is he?"
"He went back inside."
"I better find him."
She tries to walk around me but I move to the side to block her.
"Layla, wait."
She takes one step back.
"I wanted to talk to you." I add.
She crosses her arms. "About?"
"I don't know, I simply want to know where we stand. Last time we saw each other was--"
"Hamdan," she cuts me off. "Whatever happened, it doesn't matter now."
"Did it matter before? At some point?" I wonder. "Or why haven't I seen you until now?"
She clicks her tongue. "I don't know... a coincidence? You're always busy."
I let my shoulders hang. "Layla, come on."
She puffs and looks around as if she was looking for a way out and then stares right into my eyes. "Listen, Hamdan, I'm starting over, okay? I moved here and I'm starting a new job. I'm putting everything else behind me."
She walks past me and I spin around because I know she's mad at me and I know what I have to do, even if it doesn't matter anymore, like she said.
"I'm sorry, okay?" I call.
Layla freezes in the spot and begins to turn around slowly.
"You're sorry?"
It's been a while but some things stay the same and I know her, I still do and I know whatever is coming next is not going to be good.
"Should I count my lucky stars?" Her palm doing a half circle over her head as she walks over to me again. "I mean, here I have Sheikh Hamdan apologizing to me and it only took him eight years."
Her hand lands on her chest to add to the sarcasm in her words. I knew better than to trust that initial kindness of her, if it doesn't matter to her anymore why can't she simply take my apology so we can move on?
Here I go one more time. "I'm trying to apologize here."
"You can try all you want, but an apology after all this time seems pathetic to me."
I'm usually a pretty mellow person, not even my job stresses me out anymore. I do what I'm supposed to do and whenever I feel overwhelmed, I find refuge in one of my hobbies. But I'm not sure if all the patience in the Universe will be enough to deal with this woman that apparently hasn't forgotten how to push every button. This scene is taking me back to the time after I came back from Sandhurst, something shifted there, we were not kids anymore and we fought all the time. The fights never lasted long though, we always came back to each other sooner than later.
In honor of the good times together, I take a deep breath to calm myself. "Layla, listen--"
"No! You listen to me." She tells me through her teeth. "It's too late and I don't care anymore and you know what? After all, it's like Maktoum said; we don't have to be best friends."
I tried. I really did but now I don't care either. "Perfect! Because I surely do not want to be your friend."
She scoffs. "You're so childish. I'm trying to be civil here and you should do the same."
She turns around and starts walking away from me.
And now I'm childish. How can she say that? I start pacing around to ease my throbbing heart and shallow breathing. I'm the one that apologized, how can that be immature? We're adults now! How about she starts acting like one? Doesn't seem to me like she's actually putting the past behind. But if she is angry at me I don't even care, I'll keep doing what I always do and she can concentrate on her job. I tried, I really did but if this is how things are going to be with her, then fine, I can deal with that.
---
In honor of that flashback at the beginning, here's a picture of your favorite Sheikh as a kid :)
Thanks for the votes, reads and comments! Keep them coming!
Love,
Sophie.