I gripped the stool in front of me, trying to stay upright. I inhaled deeply, willing myself to stay calm. “This isn’t about your family. It isn’t even really about you,” I told him, my voice shaking. “I don’t want to call off the deal, no. It’s just… It’s a lot for me to handle right now, is all.”
“Why?” Rami demanded, his voice softening slightly.
To the side, Tommy had begun to ease into the front of the restaurant, before spotting our altercation. He drew back, lifting a cigarette from his pocket. He flipped it into his mouth and lit it, his eyes on me. I wondered how much he could possibly understand.
“My mother’s sick,” I told Rami suddenly, my voice low. “She needs surgery soon, but we don’t have the money to pay for it. Since she got her diagnosis, I’ve sent paycheck after paycheck home, for the radiation and the chemotherapy and whatever else, but whatever I make will never be enough for the surgery. Not without your…input.”
Rami didn’t speak. When I finally forced myself to look into his eyes, they were gleaming, filled with a surprising amount of compassion. I felt a flicker of understanding within him, for perhaps the first time.
As the tears continued to flow down my cheeks, I waited, watching, as he brought his hands over mine on the stool. He eased his thumb over my palm, over and over and over again, trying to calm me down. And after a moment, it worked. I felt my thoughts begin to slow. I felt my heart stop its hammering.
“I know there’s nothing I can say to make you feel better,” Rami said softly.
He was right. And yet, just the fact that he understood this unique thing about heartache endeared him to me. I blinked several times, finding a small smile forming on my lips. For the first time since meeting Rami, I saw something beyond his incredible, handsome looks—something deeper.
Suddenly, with a flourish, Rami turned his left hand to his pocket and drew out a small, black box. He tapped it on the counter, beside my half-eaten burger. I looked at it for a long moment, feeling my heart begin to flutter.
“Is that…?” I asked, cocking my head.
“You don’t have to open it now if you don’t want to,” Rami said, his voice low. “But just know that I’m here for you to help with this. I know that this silly marriage is much, much smaller than your real problems. But if you help me with this…” He reached to the side, tapping a long finger on the top of the engagement ring box, “then I think both of our problems will go away. Like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Reaching to the side, feeling somehow lighter, fresher, without the weight of my mother’s illness on my shoulders, I drew the black box toward me. I opened it, watching as the ring glittered in the soft light of the grungy bar. It was a strange mix, the ring and Tommy’s.
“It was my grandmother’s,” Rami said, taking the ring from my hands and slipping it over my finger. “And now, it belongs to you.”
I gave him a soft smile, unsure of this wave of genuine energy. But after seconds of silence, I felt strength enough to reach toward him and give him a hug. I placed my cheek against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne.
Again, my heart fluttered. But I ignored it, knowing that nothing true could ever grow between us. We were orchestrating a plan, each of us, separately—but together. That was all.
At the end of the night, I agreed to let Rami take me home in his convertible. With the top down, the breeze blasted through my hair, bringing my head back against the seat. Rami played music I didn’t recognize, with a quick beat and vibrant vocals, and I allowed my brain to fall away from thoughts of my mother—at least, for a few minutes. It was freeing.
“So, do you want to do this again sometime?” Rami asked me, after following me up to my apartment door. He scratched at the back of his neck, giving me heavy eye contact. Again, my stomach lurched with sudden—strange—desire.
“We are engaged, aren’t we?” I asked him, giving a sneaky smile.
“I don’t think we should announce it for another week,” Rami told me. “The timeline is a bit fast, even for how alluring and irresistible I am…” At this, he gave me a wink, proving he was in on the joke. He knew that I sensed his arrogance.