"O'Hanlon," her father told the man, who typed their name into the system.
The clerk's eyebrows lifted, and he looked back up at her father. "It would seem you've had a change of rooms, sir. Instead of a single with two queens, you have been upgraded to the lounge suite on the top floor."
Jerry looked down at his daughter with a glance of approval. "He's really trying to impress you, wouldn't you say?"
"How do you know it's him?" Steph countered.
The further in she got, the more she felt like she couldn't go through with the wedding. It was made all the worse by the fact that whoever the groom was, he was obviously kind enough to shower her and her parents with upgrades and gifts before the big day. Could she really walk out on someone like that? On the other hand, could she really go through with marrying someone she didn't know? What if this was all just a show, a way to win her parents' trust so that he could do what he pleased to her and they would take his side? If her parents had been willing to give her even a small hint, maybe she could have relaxed, but Steph felt her panic rising with the elevator as they rode to the highest floor of the hotel.
When her father opened the door, the view they were met with was absolutely magnificent. The whole room was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, so they had a sweeping view of the majestic El Farah desert as winds whipped curls of sand off the tops of towering dunes. The living room was spacious yet comfortable, with colorful furniture that still managed to be chic. There were three bedrooms, and Steph picked the one across from the suite her parents took.
They settled in comfortably, resting after their long journey before meeting back in the living room.
"Steph, we're planning on checking out that landmark I was telling you about before. Would you like to come?" Jerry asked.
Steph let loose a huge yawn, stretching her arms to make a big show of being tired. "I think I'm going to rest here for a while. I don't quite feel like walking around yet."
Elora lifted one dark eyebrow. "But you always feel like walking."
Steph shrugged. "Okay, well maybe I just want some time to prepare myself for tomorrow. It's kind of the biggest day of my life."
Her tone brooked no argument, and her parents, wanting to be understanding, relented. Once Steph was sure they had made it to the elevator, she sank to the floor, taking deep breaths as she tried to steady her nerves.
She could do this. She could marry a stranger. The man had set them up in first class and upgraded them to a penthouse suite. He clearly cared about her welfare and happiness, right? She was being silly. There was nothing wrong with getting married this way-she had just grown up in a culture that didn't understand the merits of it.
Steph paced around the suite, needing to get all her excess energy out. While relaxing and watching movies was all well and good, her legs felt stiff and unused, and for a moment she entertained the idea of going for a jog to clear her head. Did people jog in El Farah?
Steph took a moment to stare out at the desert, feeling utterly small as she did so. It was silly to lose one's mind so close to an event that there was no stopping. Or was there? Did she really have no choice over her own future?
Feeling trapped, Steph came to a decision. She found a notepad and pen and scribbled a note to her parents, telling them she got hungry and stepped out for some food, and not to wait up. After her note was written, she left it on the coffee table in front of an enormous television before grabbing her purse and hotel key on the way out the door.
It didn't matter where she was going as long as she wasn't in that stifling room-and with the responsibilities that came with it.
FOUR
Steph
Stepping back out into the hot desert sun, Steph took a deep breath. The air had a distinct scent to it, almost like a beach. The buildings around her were all rounded at the top, domelike in nature. It was a fascinating style, and she probably would have enjoyed it immensely if she weren't in the middle of a crisis.
Casting her eyes downward, Steph began walking. She paid enough attention to avoid crashing into other people, but otherwise she was lost in a tangled web of thoughts, trying to puzzle out her life. She debated with herself at length about what the best option was. She was already in El Farah. There was no turning back.
She was trapped.
She walked and walked, turning down winding streets without noticing what the street names were. At one point she looked up and saw a sign that was written in her mother's native tongue as well as English, and she was reminded that El Farah had once been colonized by the English before gaining their independence many years before. Then she remembered that she would be marrying a stranger the next day and forgot all about the history of El Farah.
After some time, Steph's feet began to ache. When she bothered to look back up, she realized what a mistake she had just made. She'd taken off without any thought as to where she was or where she was headed, and as she gazed around, everything looked completely foreign. She was lost in a place she knew nothing about. How equitable to her own life was that?
Slumping onto a fountain ledge, Steph stared into the gurgling waters and began to cry. A single tear dropped from her face, joining the pool of water below.
"That must be some wish," a voice said from behind her.
Steph turned, craning her neck to meet the eyes of the gentleman who had spoken. He was tall, his clothing neatly pressed, his dark hair and eyes perfectly symmetrical. In a word, he was stunning.
Steph stared with her mouth open for a beat before she realized what she was doing and closed it. "I wasn't making a wish," she replied, dabbing at her eyes.
To her surprise, the man perched next to her, gazing into the waters himself.
"Well, based on those tears, it appears you may want to. I've seen many people cast wishes into this well. I'm convinced most of them actually come true."
"How would you know if their wishes came true?" Steph asked, sniffing.
The man procured a small white cloth from a pocket and handed it to her.
Steph laughed, accepting it. "Thank you. I wasn't aware there were men in the world who carried handkerchiefs anymore."
"You're not from here," he said, and Steph shook her head.
"I'm not. Well, I kind of am. It's complicated."
The man tilted his head. "You can explain it to me, if you like."
Steph wiped her nose as delicately as possible before telling him her backstory. "I grew up in America, but my mother is from here. This is my first trip to the country."
The man's stare was intense, filled with deep intelligence and something else Steph couldn't quite describe. He carried himself with a sense of stateliness, almost as if he were a diplomat or something similar.
"We haven't made a very good impression on you, it would seem," he said, glancing down at the wrinkled handkerchief.
Steph looked down at it, clenching it in her fist. This man was a stranger, but there was a steady sense of calm about him. It made her feel like pouring her heart out, which she hadn't done to anyone, even her parents. Taking a gusty breath, she said the one thing she hadn't been willing to admit out loud.
"I'm arranged to be married tomorrow. Since you're from here you know that I've never met the man, though I'm certain he is very kind. My parents insist that it will be a good thing-that he is wealthy and handsome and I will find nothing lacking in the match. I just don't think I can go through with it. What if they're wrong? What if I'm trapped in a situation I can't get out of?"
The man nodded his head. "I understand. While parents generally have our best interests at heart, they don't always see past the veneer some people put up just to make a suitable match. You're not wrong for feeling the way you do."
Steph stared at him. He had just said exactly what she needed to hear. This stranger, who she would likely never see again, had just validated her feelings better than anyone ever could.
"I'm Steph," she said, holding out her hand.
"Mehdi," he said, giving her hand a firm but gentle shake. His skin was smooth and warm, and Steph was reluctant to let him go.
"So what are you going to do?" he asked.
Steph stared into the fountain. "I honestly don't know. The truth is, I've never really felt like I belonged in America, but it's the only culture I know. How will I get on here, when I don't know the customs and culture of everyday life? I don't belong in either place, yet I come from both. Still, maybe if I go through with this, if I can give this mystery man a chance, maybe I could create a home for myself and find my own way."